#fuck I need therapy
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Y’all I literally couldn’t even sleep last night I was so excited for todays episodes. God bless the animatora working at Mappa… it’s been a long time since I have felt actual joy/excitement like that. In a world so fucking shitty, some 2D man that owns my soul brings me so much joy.
Is it a good way to cope? Abso-fucking-lutely not.
But I don’t fucking care. If it keeps you from offing yourself, fucking enjoy that shit.
Goddamn the way I wish I could be at his feet with him looking down on me like this.
#fuck i need therapy#and by therapy I mean Sukuna#kuna daddy makes my brain go brrrrr#FUCK he drives me insane#jjk spoilers#jjk leaks#jjk anime
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I Hate You #2
(Kakuzu Smut)
[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Noro King]
Requested by: My Attachment to the First Part
Word Count: 4,722 (sorry it's so long)
Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
Name Calling: Harlot, Crybaby, Scum, Peasant, Bitch
Abuse Including: Emotional Manipulation, Coercion, Verbal, Possessiveness
Human Skinning and Torture
Begging for One's Life
Oral (more or less; Female Receiving)
Size Kink
Cock Warming
Noncon/Rape
Slapping/Choking
Degrading/Misogyny
Biting/Scratching/Hickeys
Blood Play
Creampie
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The eerie lamplight of the hotel room slithers through the cracked closet door, quickly replaced by hands shooting forward, yanking my headphones off, and grabbing at me. My mouth snaps open, ready to yell for Kakuzu but I'm cut off. "Don't you dare, Harlot," he hisses at me, dragging me out of the closet before I'm lifted, and settled in his arms.
I screw my eyes shut as soon as I'm taken out of the sanctuary of the closet, my head buried into his neck for extra protection, and my hands balling up the material of his shirt. "Zu, please. I don't want to."
He ignores me, tightening his hold as he forces us into motion. The coppery scent always wrapped around Kakuzu is wrapped around the whole room for once, making my stomach churn even before I'm carried into the bathroom. "Kakuzu, please - "
"Get up," he orders, cutting my pleas off. I hate this, I hate when he acts like this, I hate seeing the things he does to people, and I hate that he claims to do those things for me.
The familiar sound of metal chains clinking against themselves and the tile floor rings throughout the room, pushing the nauseousness I'm feeling up my throat faster than I think I can hold it down. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just stop. Please?" A dried-out and broken voice croaks, the chains moving again and almost covering the words.
"Kakuzu - "
Just like before, I'm cut off, but this time it's by movements. My body is shifted, one of the arms that usually brings me comfort - but is now reminding me who Kakuzu is - settles under my legs, keeping me propped in a seated position with my back against his chest. His other arm wraps around me, his fingertips digging into my cheeks, and forcing my head to stay in place. "Open your eyes, Harlot. Open your eyes and see how much I hate you."
I try shaking my head, my focus on trying to keep my breathing even in hopes it'll help me not throw up. "Zu, please?" I plead again, wrapping my hands around his wrist, trying to tug his hold off my face.
"After everything I've done for you? After all the effort I put in? For you. For your honor. You won't even look at the work I've done? Are you ungrateful for the life I have given you? Are you ungrateful for the life that I saved?"
"No, I'm not ungrateful," I whisper, my cheeks warming up from the tears starting to trail down them.
Kakuzu's head dips, the material of his mask rubbing against the side of my head. "All I am asking of you is to open your eyes. Do you think you can do that for me, Crybaby?" He asks, his thumb sliding over my cheek, his gentle touch wiping away my salty tears.
"I can't," I sob, my nails digging into his wrist, threatening to mess up the forced tattoo weaved into his skin.
"Yes, you can. Open your eyes. See how much I hate you, see what I've done for you, see what happens when someone crosses you." I take a deep, jagged breath, slowly opening my eyes, causing fresh tears to fall easily. "That wasn't worth the bitching and crying now was it?" He grumbles, switching his arms around, and making me tumble against him a bit.
Kakuzu wasn't lying when he said he was going to skin his partner alive. His partner is kneeling on the ground, everywhere I look his exposed muscles are on display with what I'm sure are buckets of blood seeping from the skinning and various lacerations, decorating the bathroom floor with thick inky redness. The man barely looks alive as he wheezes for air, his body trembling from fear and probable shock. He stares up at us with tearful eyes, both his soon-coming death and pain swimming in them.
The sight makes me dry heave, the hand on my face jumping up to hold my hair as I sulk over, aiming to get sick on the floor instead of Zu's shoes if anything does come up. "You're annoying like this. It's nothing but a bit of blood and flesh," he grumbles, dropping his hold on my hair before his hand wraps around my eyes, tipping my head back so it's resting on his shoulder. "Deep breaths before you get sick and ruin my clothes."
I take quick, shallow breaths, fighting between listening to him and trying to make my heart pump with the fear it's no longer there. It takes a couple of moments and a hell of a lot more tears, but I do manage to calm myself down enough that it no longer feels like my lungs are going to bust.
"Such a Crybaby," Zu grumbles, releasing my eyes so his hand can rub my chest, gently trying to help the hiccups I gained during my meltdown go away. "I swear you're always bitching about one thing or another," he adds, moving me so I'm sitting upright again.
"Come here waste of man." Slowly, the mauled ball of flesh and blood crawls forward, more blood and pain-filled tears spilling from him as he moves. He stops an inch or two away from my slippers, his restraints not letting him get any closer. "Show us how sorry you are."
"My greatest apologies, Lady Kakuzu," the man hurries out, his body falling to the ground in as close to a bow as he can get. "I'm sorry for trashing your name and your honor. I am so sorry."
"I don't believe you are," Zu husks out, making my stomach hurt again. He gets too much of a kick out of these situations. He drags them on for a lot longer than I wish he would too.
"I am! I am sorry. Please. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have forgotten my place. I'll remember it from now on. Kakuzu, please," the man cries, shooting painful chills throughout my body.
"Kakuzu - "
"Silence," he mutters, set on not letting me get a word in. "Where's your placement, scum?"
"Under Lady Kakuzu's feet. Even below that. Please. I'm the scum at the bottom of her shoes. I'm even worse than that. Please, just let me go."
"Kakuzu?" I try again, this time getting his hand wrapped around my mouth.
"Do you truly think that?" Zu asks the man, his sight pointed and cold as he glares down at his newest victim.
"Yes!" The man yelps, tugging on his unforgiving chains. "Of course I do. I do! Please let me go Kakuzu. I'm sorry for insulting your lady. I am!"
He chuckles, a faint imprint of a smile under his mask. "Go on then. Kiss her shoes, lick the scum off of them like the peasant you are." The man hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering between Zu and my slippers. "Straighten your leg. He can't obey orders if he's unable to reach your shoes," Kakuzu whispers, nuzzling the side of my head, his glare locked on his victim, daring him to act up.
I do as I'm told, straightening one of my legs out. Again, the man hesitates for a moment before pressing his lips against the sole of the slipper, his eyes locked on Zu the whole time. When approval isn't given, the man desperately starts stamping kisses up and down the bottom of my shoe, each one paired with an eye flicker toward the assassin. When that doesn't work either, the man locks eyes with Kakuzu again, his tongue sliding out to lap up the dirt and any other mess my slippers have picked up from the hotel carpet.
I tilt my head, looking at the man holding me, waiting for this to end just as much as the man at my feet. "Now the other," Zu finally mutters, starting to press masked kisses up my neck. I let my leg fall, lifting the other one before the man repeats his actions. Kakuzu hums in approval, his nose nuzzling my jawline this time as he watches. "What a pathetic way to live your last few moments," he grumbles, shifting my position in his arms again, holding me closer to his chest as he turns to walk away.
The man freaks out as I'm carried out of the bathroom, pleas, threats, and insults all thrown at Kakuzu. Again, like before, I'm settled into the closet, Zu resting me in the makeshift nest of blankets and pillows I've made. His eyes are swimming with a mix of arousal, madness, and anger as he stares at me, the melted gemstone color colder than usual when he looks at me.
Also again, his hand shoots forward, clinging to my cheeks. "You are mine, you understand that?"
"Yes, Zu."
"Say it right," he mutters, his freehand jumping to his face to pull his mask down.
"Yes, Kakuzu, I understand that I'm yours," I whisper, tilting my head in his hold, my eyes stuck on the warn-out carpet that makes up the hotel floor.
"I hate you," he whispers back, tilting my head back straight before leaning forward. Zu's lips lay against mine, his fingers tightening against my skin as he kisses me. "I hate you," he repeats, lips brushing mine as he speaks, courtesy of the lack of distance.
"I hate you too," I echo, looking into his eyes again. Some - but not all - of the crazy is gone from them, as is his anger. The pool of arousal mixed in hasn't been tamed though. If anything, it seemed to have grown. "Kakuzu?"
"Hush. I have more work to do, Harlot. Go back to your music and try to get some sleep," he orders, brushing kisses along my jawline. Despite everything tonight, the familiar feeling of his stitches rubbing against my skin still brings me comfort. Once he's satisfied, Zu slowly places my headphones back on me, taking the time to fix the strands of hair that got caught in the mix.
One more kiss is pressed to my lips before his mask is pulled back on and the closet doors are snapped closed. I flop into the pile of bedding, screwing my eyes shut and letting the music mix with my thoughts. I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight.
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Pressure is added to my side, breaking the soft trickle of exhaustion and sadness I've been clinging to all night. Soon, the pressure tightens, fingers digging into my ribs to get a better hold on me. "Kakuzu!" I scream, shooting up from my laid position.
"Hush, you annoying little bitch," Zu grumbles, his hand falling to my ankle, his fingers wrapping around it before tugging me out of the closet. "You're still crying?" He groans, his eyes scanning over my face now that I'm in the light of the dim lamp. "You are unattractive when you cry. Stop crying before you make me go soft."
"What?" I ask, not making sense of Kakuzu's short lecture.
I'm ignored, grumbles I can't make out slipping from him as he bends down. I'm lifted again tonight, this time long enough for Zu to carry me across the room before dropping me on the bed. "You should be of use," he grumbles, snatching my ankle again so he can position me on my back, laid flat so he can climb on top of me.
"Zu," I murmur, not liking where this is heading.
"Always such a Crybaby," he groans, crawling onto the bed, his hands already working at tugging my clothing off. "I'm going to sleep in you. You're too much of a Crybaby to do anything until the morning," he mutters, his words coming out as a statement but meant as a question.
His eyes scan over my nude body, his hand gripping my thigh, and his thumb sliding back and forth over my leg, softly teasing me as he impatiently waits for me to respond. "Just... just sleeping... in me," I mutter, enjoying his soft touches but also hating that I'm enjoying them. Why does he have to know me so well? Why does he always get so needy after a kill?
That's a good enough answer for Kakuzu, his clothes peeled off of him just as quickly as he tugged mine off. "You liked it, didn't you?" He mutters, his arms wrapping under my knees, shifting down so they hook over his shoulders.
"I liked what?" I whisper, my pussy already tingling from the hot breath coating it as he lowers his head down.
"You liked what I did for you today," Kakuzu answers, his tongue sliding over the inside of my thigh, making my cunt tremble even more.
"No, I didn't," I deny, toying with his hair as I try to even out my breathing. It's not fair how quickly Zu can get me worked up. "You... you are a terrible man. You do - did - terrible things today."
"Do you think that?" He asks, eyes skating up to look at me. Kakuzu's eyes are shiny with sexual tension and entertainment blending with their chilled green color. "Your soaked little pussy doesn't seem to think so," he adds, shifting his head over. His tongue slides out, running over my pussy lips before he nibbles on them.
"You... you're playing with me. Of... of course my body is going... going to react," I push out, my ankles crossing behind his neck and my thighs sliding against his cheeks. I try tugging him down, quickly changing my mind, and pushing him away from me again.
Kakuzu chuckles, flatly and slowly running his tongue through my pussy before pulling away, my legs tumbling back to the bed because of his movements. "So quick to call me a bad man and then so quick to get soaked and squirmy for me. But," he starts, flipping us so we're on our sides, one of my legs buried under his body weight, and the other one held open by Zu. "I don't have the time tonight to stop the resentment you'll feel after I rape you so that'll have to wait until the morning."
My stomach drops with the statement; half from fear and half from excitement. Zu and I rarely have sex, partly because it messes with my head but mostly because he doesn't have the patience to calm me down afterward. "Yes, sir," I murmur, burring my head in his chest as my hand wanders his back, finding comfort in tracing the masks sewn into his back.
"I hate you," he grumbles, using his hold on my leg to tug me closer, the tip of his dick quickly bullying its way into me.
"Kakuzu," I whimper, my body already sparking in fearful anticipation. "You're going to hurt me." Zu is a big man, in all areas of the word. It even hurts taking him when I'm wet and stretched, which means it's going to tear me apart taking him like this.
"I know," he whispers into my hair, his head nuzzling mine upward. Once my face is lifted enough, Kakuzu smashes his lips against mine and slams his dick into me, his mouth catching the scream of pain that rips from my throat. "Stop crying," he grumbles, his nose rubbing the painful tears spilling down my face into my skin. "How can you be so pretty when you scream but so ugly when you cry?"
"It hurts," I whine, ripples of pain sizzling from my pussy as my nails dig into the stitches holding his masks in place. "I can't."
"You can and you will. Shut up and go to sleep," he orders, pushing my head back into his chest before he rests his chin on it. "After I rape you tomorrow, and once my work is done, we'll go shopping." The words are meant as a comfort, kind of, but they're not. If Kakuzu is willing to spend money on me, he's going to fuck me up badly in the morning.
I soak in the night's events, the torture and death he caused, in the events promised tomorrow, in the fear and arousal caused by it, the hatred I feel from being arousal, all of it. My nails dig in deep enough to break his skin, and I'm crying enough to soak both of us in my tears. Despite my meltdown, Kakuzu stays put and quiet, his dick stretching me out and pulsing as his chin rubs back and forth on my head, offering a small comfort in all the pain he's caused me today.
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Prickles of pain growing on my cheek rip me from my sleep, and my eyes snap open as my body attempts to shoot up. Kakuzu is laid on top of me, the hand used to smack me awake slithering down to grip my throat. The other one is buried between us, rubbing rough circles against my clit. "Zu?" I croak out, trying to squirm out from under him as my eyes blink away the remaining sleep in them.
"I hate you. I fucking hate you. Disgusting Harlot," he breaths against my neck, his teeth sinking into my throat and inch above the fingers squeezing my windpipe.
"Hey, wait a second," I wheeze, my fingertips wiggling their way between his palm and my throat, failing to loosen his grip. "Let me wake up a bit."
Kakuzu doesn't bother relaxing his jaw as he lifts his head, my skin giving in and ripping between his teeth. "If I did what you asked, I wouldn't be raping you, would I?" He husks in my ear, his fingers tightening, cutting off the little bit of air he was allowing. "I was trying to be nice, I was going to rape you while you slept, but your desperate little cunt wouldn't loosen enough to let me pull out without waking you."
It's a lie, I know it's a lie. He gets off on me being conscious, of me knowing and seeing what he's doing, of the fear that coats me when he acts like this. But still, the thought of being unaware of any of it is nice, even if it was fictionally taken from me.
Kakuzu loosens his grip on my throat, letting me coat my lungs in oxygen again. "Don't cry," he grumbles, pulling his touch away from my clit, his hand sliding up to rub his fingers through my hair. "Do you hear me? Don't you dare cry."
"If you weren't so harsh I wouldn't cry," I bite back, my defense melting the second his midnight moss-colored eyes meet mine. "I mean... um... yes sir."
He lets out an airy laugh, a smirk sliding onto his face as he glares at me. "I hate how easy you bend for me. You've gotten so complaint. It ruins the fun. If you weren't so complaint I wouldn't have to hurt you as much. How about we make a deal, my little Harlot."
"Okay," I whisper, not liking where this is going. Kakuzu is not a fair man and neither are his deals.
"For once I won't hold down your wrists. Do anything your pretty mind wishes. I won't hold it against you," he whispers down, his head dipping to brush kisses against my lips between his words. "Besides, the more you fight, the more excited I get. Maybe your raping will end early today." Fat chance but it's worth the effort, I guess.
"Okay," I repeat, letting my hands fall away from his, my fingers jumping out to cup his face. Maybe if I take him up on the deal, he'll be too shocked to keep going. I doubt it... still worth it. I let my fingertips slide over Kakuzu's cheeks, caressing him like I usually do. Once his eyes fall closed I shift my touches, digging my nails into his skin and tearing at it.
"Fucking bitch," he yelps, eyes snapping open, the green color of them dancing against the red of his blood so beautifully. Is this why he likes ripping me to shreds? "I didn't think you'd do it, you fucking," he cuts himself off by burying his head into my neck, his hips ripping himself out of me before slamming back in.
I yelp from the sudden friction, more prepared than yesterday but still not ready to take him. Zu's teeth dig into my throat again, as do his fingers, limiting my breathing again. "Ka... kaku... zu?" I spill out, my hands attempting to scratch at his face again, the suddenness of his actions catching me off guard. He said he wouldn't retaliate, he said anything I do wouldn't be held against me, this isn't fair. Why give me a chance to fight back if you're going to take it from me?
He chuckles, his teeth quickly forcing my throat to give way as he litters my neck in ripped skin and bleeding bite marks. "Come on, I know women are dumb but you're not that dumb. Did you think I wouldn't react to you fighting back?"
I can feel the tears prickle in my eyes. His teeth hurt, his thrusts hurt, my muscles hurt from trying to shove him off, his fingers promising to leave bruises on my throat hurt, and he's mean. Why does Kakuzu have to be so mean? He said I could fight back without being punished.
My nails continue to scratch at his face, occasionally catching on his stitches. The more he chuckles, the harder it is not to cry. "Get off of me, Zu," I sob, my nails saying screw it to his, shifting down to tear at his shoulders. If I snap the threads laces through his arms, maybe I'll be able to wiggle out from under him. "You said I could fight back," I wheeze, his hand tightening the longer I fight against him.
"Yes, I did. I didn't say I'd let you win though," he chuckles, loosening his grip long enough for me to suck in a breath before it's back to suffocating me. "Harlot, when are you going to learn you don't deserve rights? Women like you are only worth as much as your pussies are. Lucky for you, your pretty little cunt gets off on being violated and reminded of your use. It makes you worth something."
He babbles his degrading against my throat, his tongue sliding out to slither over the markings he's left, licking up my spilled blood as his mouth focuses on sucking bruises over the teeth imprints. The hand not wrapped around my windpipe shoots down, scooping at my juices as if to prove Kakuzu's rant. I hate his insults, I hate that they're right, and I hate that I've started to cry so soon. It's going to piss him off even more.
Slowly, he lifts himself, adding enough pressure that his movements are a threat to snap the bones of my neck. "I told you not to cry," he grumbles, wiping the fingers coated in my mess across my face, blood from his scratch marks dripping down to mix with the juices coating my cheeks. "At least you look pretty dotted with my blood, huh?"
"Please?" I spill out, my head light enough that I can't keep scratching at his stitches, my escape plan left forgotten. "Please stop," I wheeze, attempting to tug his fingers off again, trying to get just the smallest break to breathe.
"You're fine, stop crying," he orders, fingers loosening so I can huff a few breaths of air. "What do you want me to stop?" Zu asks, starting another one of his sick games.
"Stop..."
"Stop what?" He repeats, leaning down, eyes locked on mine and his nose brushing against mine. The more blood droplets that spill onto my skin, the more he squeezes, the faster his thrusts get, and the more I ache. It hurts having a man as thick as Kakuzu fucking himself into me, it hurts having so much of his weight pressed against my hips, my throat. "What do you want me to stop doing? Say it."
"Stop raping me," I whisper, my sight blurry now. Whether it's because of the lack of air or my fears, I'm not sure.
"Say it louder. I know you can say it louder," he demands, his voice angry and shaky with his end approaching. The bad side of us having sex once or twice a month is that Kakuzu is ruthless during it, the good side is he doesn't last long, especially when he spends the night buried in me.
"Stop raping me," I repeat, my voice louder and cracking as I speak.
"Again," he hisses, his hand once again threatening to make me pass out from lack of oxygen.
"Please. Kakuzu, please. Stop raping me. I'll do anything, Zu. Stop, stop, stop. I don't want to be raped. Please?" My voice is raspy from my screams, and my sight is speckled with black dots. It might have been a dumb move, one that'll thrust me into unconsciousness, but it was worth it.
"Shut up," Zu grumbles, his hand finally releasing my throat just to grip my face, nails digging into my cheeks and squeezing to keep me quiet. His dick is shoved into me again, uncomfortably stretching me out, his hips against mine, making them ache even more from the forced wide spreading of them. "You are repulsive when you cry. Why did you cry? It's ugly," Kakuzu lectures, his sperm quickly spilling into me, the warmth of it adding just a bit of relief to the constant pain in my body.
I stay quiet, soaking in the slow agony of being crushed under his weight, in the warmth of his seemingly never-ending finishing, in the sound of his pants and his hearts pounding.
Finally, he slowly lifts off of me, the warmth of his cum spilling out and coating my legs as his dick inches out from his movements too. "Why did you cry?" He repeats, kneeling between my legs, his eyes scrolling over my bruised and labored body. "I told you not to."
"I'm sorry," I whisper, the situation in front of me fucking with my head even more. Kakuzu violated me and I'm apologizing for crying. Kakuzu is the one sulking when I'm aching more than him, though, I did manage to get in quite a few scratch marks this time.
Again, he moves slowly, leaving me alone in the bed and exposed to the chill of the room. Despite moving away, his eyes still slide over me in circles. "I hate you," he whispers, silence falling over us again, the only noise being his jaw rotating and flapping with unheard words. Flapping with invisible apologies and thank yous.
Kakuzu will never admit but he doesn't like raping me, he doesn't like that this is the only way he can get off. It's not my fault our sex life lives in one or two days a month; it's his. If he wasn't so rough I'd be fine having sex more often, but he can't stop, and we both know it. Not that we haven't tried.
"Get out of bed. I have things to do and I can't start them until you've been disinfected and bathed." I sit up, pain shooting everywhere it can reach as I move. "I will be back. Put on some clothes while I'm away."
"I thought I was bathing? Where are we going?" I ask, carefully placing myself on my feet, and leaning against the bed for extra support.
"You are. I am going to inform Sasori that you will be using his tub, and then we shall come back here so I can bathe as well."
Oh...
My eyes trail after Zu, watching him pull some clothes on before heading toward the door. "Kakuzu?"
"Harlot?" He sighs, stopping with his hand on the door.
I race forward, ignoring the pain threatening to snap my bones or make my muscles give out. I crash into him, wrapping my arms around his sides and burying my head between his shoulder blades. "I hate you, Kakuzu," I whisper against his skin, painful tears once again escaping my eyes because of my dumb decisions.
"I hate you too."
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#naruto shippuden#naruto shippuden oneshot#naruto shippuden x reader#naruto shippuden smut#kakuzu oneshot#kakuzu x reader#kakuzu smut#kakuzu#fuck I need therapy
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the process of writing and also trying to examine exactly what the fuck is happening in my brain is actually just me slowly realizing that even the seemingly random character traits I've given to my characters is actually a hidden unhealthy thing that's been chilling in my mind for years.
I was talking with my step dad today and realized that a core personality trait/flaw, whatever you want to call it that one of my characters has is the constant obsession with ranking. He's never good enough, he wants to be top at at least *something*. Well, turns out that comes from the high expectations I put on myself and that were put on me. Every time I think "this character trait isn't me, for sure" it turns out it actually is!
#fuck i need therapy#How is there always more shit to unpack#And what worries me is I'm not even that bad off as the world goes#Are you all doing ok?#Cause it seems like I'm not#Feel free to rant at me any time if I'm online I'll always listen no matter who you are
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Letting down everyone around me bc I can’t get my shit together
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nothing else even comes close to making The Bad Feelings subside and if i ever finish the coloring book i think i’ll have to call it quits on everything
#alice oseman#charlie spring#heartstopper#nick nelson#heartstopper coloring book#i love my boys#fuck i need them#fuck i need therapy
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
#warm up#writeblr#this one has bothered me for a bit#any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime#hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying#as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing#like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts#why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge#''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it#ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace#if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!!#men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible#ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing#the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....
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#in remembeance of that time I drank two glasses of vodka#like two weeks ago#and most of that vodka ended up in a garbage bag#and I blacked out and apparently texted rwby references to a friend#but miraculously didn’t get a hangover#just cause I spent almost a year believing in what was apparently a fake relationship#fuck i need therapy#I was even looking at colleges in the area#i’m such an idiot
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Sometimes it hits me like a fucking truck that I was there too, during all the dhit that’s happened around me I was also there, I was also affected. And now that everyone else has moved on I’m still stuck in the emotional backlog because k never thought about it like that, I never really recognized that all this dhit had also affected me, that im also allowed to process and feel my emotions, that I was also part of the trauma. Sometimes I just remember that I was also there. It fucking sucks
#another vent y’all#buckle up folks it’s 2 am and I haven’t slept#doing my makeup ag 1 in the goddamn morning core#vent post#trauma#I’ve never really thought of it all as trauma#but like in retrospect it was kinda traumatic#me: my house burned down#also me: eh I don’t hav etrauma#just because I had kickass insurance doesn’t me I didn’t loose my house#just because I wasn’t living out of my car or on the streets doesn’t mean I didn’t watch my entire life burn down before my eyes#all while trying to o comfort everyone around me#fuck i need therapy#i swear tk god if I cry right now#k just did my makeup#if I smudge this shit I will riot
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Listen, either the bottles I've been shoving my emotions into explode or I die of old age. Either way, this is a very healthy way to deal with emotions
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I am
• worried
• depressed
• uncomfortable
• upset
• afraid
• uneasy
it does not feel good.
I'm going to drink some water, take a nap, and deal with these things later
#I'm still waiting to hear back if I got my apartment#I just broke my glasses#I ran out of my meds and it might take a while to get more#I have so many people I need to message back#I fucked up and missed my therapy appointment yesterday#I'm with both of my parents for the holidays and I'm not out as she/her#I just feel gross
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Me starting GTN after hearing about it from a friend: NEEEEEEED the bone lesbians to kiss
Me finishing NTN: love is all around me and god needs to die.
#these books make me insane#how the Fuck do I cope#tlt series#i came for lesbians I left with trauma. and lesbians.#this series is the reason I need therapy and the therapy itself#you can’t take loved away#tlt#tlt memes#gtn#htn#griddlehark#alecto the ninth#Gideon the ninth#ntn#nona the ninth#john gaius#gideon nav#harrowhark nonagesimus#Jod#the emperor undying#the locked tomb#1k
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Bro I'm so done with the human brain.
I learned to fight hate with love so strongly (bc I refuse to ever turn anger on someone else even if maybe they deserve it because I refuse to ever put someone else through what I grew up in) that whenever I'm feeling sad or angry there's just this intense false joy about everything. So I'll be sitting there confused as fuck because I'm so angry or so sad or whatever and then another part of me is forcefully obsessing over how amazing this thing over here is and hey, isn't this person over here the best ever? While the depressed side of me is telling me how much I suck and I'm just going
The fuck do I feel right now? How do I function?
#I can't deal with the bad emotions anymore because everytime I try another side of my brain is just aggressively happy#How did I manage to fuck myself up this badly#fuck i need therapy
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*tries to organize my thoughts*
*remembers i'm not in school and therefore beholden to neither heaven nor hell nor any man's grading system*
*joyously shredding & tossing all my carefully arranged 3x5 mental notecards into the air like so much beige confetti. raising my arms in victory, cheering raucously until i accidentally inhale bits of homemade confetti*
(*coughing up itty bits of paper like a cat evicting a hairball with a firm understanding of tenants' rights*) wait wat happens next
#i marie kondoed my thoughts and *i* feel great. but now my stream-of-consciousness has escaped containment#so many innocent bystanders at stake#every time i try to organize my thoughts i run out of plastic bins and have to make a trip to the container store where i get even more dis#racted so. you can't just hand me THIS brain and NO catalogue OR library classification system#and expect me to single-handedly sort through all this nonsense? bad form but fucking form not in my job description#aNYways. formal education sure did a FUCKING NUMBER on us huh#(a number i measure not in gpa or dollars of student debt.#but in the number of therapy sessions & medical debt it will take to recover.)#seriously folks. our education systems are...innately traumatizing for a huge number of students. and we NEED to address this.#the fact that it is culturally common for adults to have anxiety nightmares about school/exams...even decades later?#that is not cute. it is Alarming.#no one--much less entire generations--should be spending their developmental years in an environment of chronic stress & pressure & strain#and yet that is the reality for millions and millions of pre-teen and teenage and young adult students#this isn't healthy and it serves and empowers NO ONE#...except of course the many exploitative educational & financial & debt-collecting institutions thriving from the current balance of power#and of course it's a nefarious and powerful way to sabotage/erase the middle class#which billionaires and the wealth-inequality creators they finance couldn't possibly have any noteworthy interest in whatsoever#it's not like there's an elite group of people with huge financial incentives to drain/steal resources from the masses...#anyways sorry for going all Conspiracy Theory on you.#obviously the billionaires who control the vast majority of our resources and news and political campaign funding#are not tied to every single itty bitty social issue and i'm a silly billy to imply it#please tell elon musk to ignore this tweet i am so subservient and acquiescent#mr musky u r so good at inheriting slavery-built mining fortunes & buying other people's companies#& building rocket ships & fancy cars that do NOT explode/catch fire & also NOT running billion dollar companies into the ground#mr musky u r so talented genius billionaire playboy with 10 kids and ex-wives who find you creepy af babe u r basically iron man
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can't wait to see him again tomorrow! Tomorrow!!
#scribbling this did more for me than 100 hours of therapy#he's so soothing....#just what i need on this Festive Occasion! a fucking chill pill!!#i hope he has a great day tomorrow!#i also hope he feels loved! because he is! so much!#i simultaneously hope hes Thriving but also Experiencing The Horrors yk yk#scribble garnish#welcome home#welcome home puppet show#wally darling#every time i see his full name i need to take a second to Feel Things#darling... so fucking accurate... he Is darling... The darling.... absolutely darling lad.....
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redraw of this
#help wanted 2 spoilers#she does need therapy though#sorry 4 no fredddy i got so fucking lazy#fnaf#help wanted 2#vanessa#gregory
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tbh though if you look at the older episodes, Betty was always like absolutely 100% fully and irrevocably unhinged, and her going insane was barely a departure from the status quo at all
like this woman is and always was nuts, and I think it's for everyone's benefit that they're both equally obsessed with each other, because that means nobody else ever has to get involved with their fucked up dynamic
I think it's less that she put her life on hold for Simon's benefit, but that she's a scary lady who knows exactly what she wants, and what she wants is a relationship with a nice autistic guy who's really into femdom
#simon petrikov#betty grof#fionna and cake#adventure time#and she's valid for it#like remember that time she jumped through a random time portal to 1000 years in the future and entered a magical world#and then shoved half dead simon off of a magic carpet literal seconds after hearing the thing that removed his powers#and went there and fucking murdered the entity that was doing it less than fifteen seconds after showing up#this woman is fucking deranged#that's not codependency#that's something else entirely#she's on an absolutely different level#she doesn't need him but she wants him and he needs her and honestly that's fine#they both have something therapy cannot fix#nobody should even be permitted to try#like they need to be isolated with each other forever#I hazard to say that she would straight up be doing yandere shit if Simon were even fractionally less into her
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