#And the whole “I don't have to like ANYONE”

[headspace-hotel]

This year has, so far, been for me a series of rapid realizations of what I have been unlearning.

I went to the library. This was a couple weeks ago. I knew I needed to read a book, fiction. I hadn't done so in over a year and it was the longest period of time I had ever gone without doing so. I made a rule: I would only pick books I had never heard of, by authors I had never heard of, and I would not do any preliminary research or even bother to look at what the book was about. I would make my decision on whether to read or not purely on my impression of the title, cover and opening lines.

The book was The Connoisseur by Evan S. Connell. It was kind of a random selection. I sat down with it in a corner of the library and straight up devoured it. I tore through the book within a few hours, without taking a single break. I was captivated. I couldn't put it down.

It is a book about a guy who buys a Mayan figurine in a knickknack shop while he's on a business trip. and becomes obsessed with pre-Columbian sculptural art. There isn't really much of a plot apart from this. He goes to sketchy antique shows, has conversations with museum curators, wealthy art dealers and forgers, and seeks to learn how to distinguish a genuine pre-Columbian piece from a fake one. It was written in the 1970's, so the views on Native Americans are antiquated and sometimes offensive, and there is the troubling thread of the very concept of looting another culture's treasures and treating them as collectibles, though the book is not without commentary on this.

All the same, it was a completely intoxicating read. The vicarious experience of becoming fascinated with a topic and having it unfold a whole world for you was ferociously gripping, and so was the intrigue of the art collecting world itself. The frauds, forgeries, smuggling, museums, academics, aristocrats, auctions and seedy flea markets. Will he ever be able to tell if a piece is "real?" Does it matter if it's "real?" Why does he want to own and possess a piece of art, and how does its "realness" affect that desire? The book leaves you not knowing what to think.

It is a book about curiosity, portrayed in the narrative as a totally unreasonable lightning bolt that strikes a man who has never been fascinated by anything and changes him forever. Why? Why does a Mayan figurine, in particular, speak to him? Why does any piece of art, or any fascinating thing in the world, speak to anyone? It is unknowable.

I went to the library again. I picked a new book using the same rules. This book was Fragile Beasts by Tawni O'Dell. Just like the last time, I was totally captivated. I couldn't put it down.

Did I have a couple major problems with the portrayal of some important aspects of the story? Yes. (It would make the post much longer to discuss.) Was I completely captured by and invested in the story for the time I was reading it? Also yes. The book braids together several very different strands-- the story of a legendary Spanish bullfighter and a wealthy American woman that he loved, two brothers stuck in an ugly family situation after their father's death in a car accident, and a rich old heir to a Pennsylvania coal mining fortune and to the sinister underbelly of her family's business.

There was a lot about baseball, which I know nothing about, and bullfighting, which I know nothing about, and I certainly don't know anything about being a teenaged boy who resents and mistrusts his estranged mother, or an aristocratic old lady who lives in a mansion and eats fancy Spanish food. It was fun to experience so much unfamiliar stuff and to care about things I wouldn't normally care about. Once again I couldn't stop reading until I had finished it.

I don't know that either book was "good," though I thought they were both well written; I just know that reading them was like being hooked up to an IV of something essential and life-giving and feeling it reanimating my body.

It had been a year since I had read any fiction, but it had been much, much longer since I had loved to read. As I became an adult I had become picky and critical about books, and developed a highly sophisticated sense of my taste and the books I considered good- which were very rare. My taste in books became so sophisticated, eventually, that I didn't like books at all anymore.

I had almost withered away from deficiency of that essential nutrient known as STORY. I'd almost crumbled myself into dust from pretentiousness! I may have been terribly wrong about the kinds of things I liked to read, on top of it. And I certainly hadn't realized that story was such an essential nutrient.

"Just entertainment" the pretentious sorts of people might say of a book they think is useless-- but what is entertainment but to absorb your mind in something, and what is absorbing your mind in a book but to experience things you would never have experienced? It expands you and makes you more complicated. It is the study of human existence itself.

Now all I have been able to think about today is finishing my work and going to the library again...

[shaisuki]

“Caleb?”

“What is it, pipsqueak?”

“Have you ever kissed someone?”

You asked him out of the blue while munching on the snack he bought for you. Seated on the stairs at the front of the store. The wind's cold. A telltale sign of the night to come. The skies are purplish with hues of orange and red. The can of soda sweats with condensation. Leaving a imprint of it on the concrete floor.

“What about it, pipsqueak?”

Caleb brows furrow at the sudden question. You were both in high school and neither of the romance stuff were discussed except when you both watched a romance drama that aired on the evening. He didn't even know you were interested.

”No. I mean that's normal. You're popular with girls and I know you must kissed one of them right? Riiight?”

Absentmindedly crinkling a wrapper of the candy and Caleb can hear the crunch of the packaging. A amused laugh escaped Caleb's lips. Turning his body to face you and resting his jaw to his palm. His elbow leaning on his knees.

He stares at your side profile. Studying how your eyelashes flutter and the dimple surfacing on your round cheek. A small pout in your plump lips.

“I haven't kissed anyone, pipsqueak.”

“For real? Nah, you're kidding me.”

Caleb's smile grew wider when you whipped your head to see if he was really serious. Your face scrunched up while you eye him suspiciously.

It was the truth. He gets it. He was Mr. Popular among his peers and there's the endless stream of girls who tried to get on his good graces. However he can't bring himself to like the attention. Sure, it was good that he can count on them and he knows you're going to be cool about it but it feels wrong.

“I'm not interested, pipsqueak.” Caleb assures you. Patting your head in a affectionate manner like he always did. His palm hold your round cheek. Caressing the skin with his thumb and his aura gets serious all of a sudden. “What made you ask me that kind of question?”

“A classmate asked me if you have a girlfriend and then if you did the lovey-dovey stuff with a girl. I told her I don't know and....” Your eyes squint for a little bit. The gears in your head turning. “— that's why I asked you about it.” You explained.

Caleb pinched your cheek. If Caleb wants to be honest with you right now. He will say he wants to kiss you, first. His eyes landing on your lips. He fought the urge to run his thumb in your lips for he might regret what he's about to do next. It's to kiss you. Taste the sweetness of the candy in your lips and feel the softness of your lips that will linger for days to come.

Caleb wants you, needs you to be his firsts. It's the way it is most special cause he shared it with you and he knows you're inexperienced too and what's better to be each other's firsts, if you'll allow it.

“Pipsqueak, do you want to be kissed?” His voice suddenly serious. The streetlight casting a glow behind them and from the angle where you look at him. Caleb's expression grew darker. The knowledge that you're going to be kissed someone that is not him — brings a pain that he can never recover.

“Someday, Caleb. Someday.” You mutter and Caleb smiles, cause that someday is the day when he will finally get to kiss you. A real kiss. Not the indirect kisses from having to share cans of soda or tasting another one's food. You didn't even know that.

Caleb and you stayed for a bit. Watching as nightfall envelops the whole city. Contented at the peace and quiet with the conversation gone in your mind except for Caleb who burned the memory. He's contented for now.

He can be patient towards you and when the time comes, it's not only a kiss from you but the whole you, body and soul.

[sylusismybby]

It wasn't like Sylus to be rough with you, he was usually sensual, dominant, yes, but sensual. You knew right off the bet the moment he came home that he wasn't going to be nice today, something pissed him off, and he needed a release. "Why so loud, sweetie?" His hands were gripping your hips, he wants currently cockwarming you, not moving his hips one bit despite all your please. The moment you try moving your hips, he slaps your ass as a warning. "No no, not until I say so." His speech is interrupted with a slight groan as your walls squeezed around his length, he wants to fuck up into you and take you right then and there. But if he does that means he would be giving into you and he really isn't feeling generous today. Your nails dig into his shoulder, another desperate moan leaving your swollen lips. "Watch those hands, kitten."

Sylus watches you struggle on his lap for a bit before getting up from his chair with you in his arms, his cock still buried deep inside of you. You gasp as your back hits the wall, legs immediately wrapping around him, his lips connect to your neck and he bites as his hips start to move. He doesn't start slow like usual, he starts with a rough pace, fucking you against the wall. Your reactions just make him want to ruin you more, those sweet moans of his name, your hands tugging on his white hair, oh you'll be a mess once he is done with you. The thrusts don't slow down, his cock hits your spot, your head leans back against the wall, his name falling from your lips like a song. And he wants to let you cum, have you squirm in his hands and turn to mush but again, he isnt feeling generous tonight. He pulls out of you without a warning, leaving you to look at his direction with confusion in your face. That's a new one, he hasn't seen you make a face like that before. "Don't be so shcoked, kitten. You knew i wouldn't be easy on you tonight."

Carrying you back to the bed, he gets between your legs, kissing you sloppily. His hand roams down to your pussy and he teases your folds before entering two fingers inside of you. Your back arches and you moan into his next kiss, Sylus pulls away, biting on your lower lip as he does so. He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, enjoying your every response to his actions. It won't take long for you to reach your high, he knows your body better than anyone else but he won't let you cum, not until you beg. He kisses the side of your face, fingering you harder. "Come on. You know what I want to hear." You would hate to give him that satisfaction however it's getting harder and harder. Sylus loved that about you, your stubborness despite the fact that he always wins, you always give into him. "Please...please Sylus I need to come!" There it is, exactly how he wanted you. "That's my good girl." Pulling his fingers out of you, he turns your body around so you were face down, ass up. He teases your entrance before slamming into you.

Gripping the sheets, you gasp loudly. His hands grip your hips hard, thrusts unforgiving and sloppy. "Yeah, that's it. Scream my name." One of his hands grabs your hair and he pulls, not enough to make it hurt but enough for you to feel it. Tears start streaming down your face from pleasure, your hips move back against him. Sylus stops his movements just to watch you fuck yourself on his cock. You starts to whine, that feeling burning deep inside of your loswer stomach, your whole body feels hot, you need to come. "Sylus! I have to cum! Please!" He starts thrusting hard into you again, his own orgasm approaching, you were so obedientfpr him, it made him crazy. "Go ahead, kitten." The moment he says that you let it go, coming around his cock. Sylus fucks you through it, before he comes himself, filling you up with his warm seed.

[mxtantrights]

Azriel is (secretly) in love with you

"If it were anyone else, you would let them go." you grumble.

Rhys sighs and sets down both his utensils. The table goes silent.

No one could get into a fight like the two of you. Perks of knowing each other since you were children. Rhys is like the little brother you never wanted, but really treasured. And you were like the older sister he never asked for, but really needed. Especially after his mother and sister were brutally taken from him and his father died.

Which is how you now that he's treating you differently. If it were Azriel or Cassian asking to go on this mission he would happy oblige. If it were Feyre he might hesitate but he would let her do it. Mor or Amren he would let them do it. Nesta, well he doesn't tell her what to do ever. And Elaine, if she wanted to do something like this you think he might watch in shock. Never mind the valkyries.

"So you understand, great." he says sassily.

You slam the table, "Stop being rude. I deserve to go on this mission. I deserve what I'm owed."

"What makes you think-"

"I'm owed the head of the man who massacred my family. I am owed Rhysand!" you shout.

"Maybe we can come back to this conversation-" Cassian starts.

You and Rhys look at him in an instant. "Butt out Cass."

Cassian puts his hands up in surrender. You grunt and apologize to him. He nods his head once and places his hands down. You look over at Rhys.

"I'm going. Whether you want me to or not. I'm not asking for permission." you speak.

You stand up from your seat and storm out of family dinner. Something you have never done before. You know how important it is to Rhys and it's important to you too. But you know that tensions are high and you might say something you can't take back.

Its a long walk to your room. And as you sit on the edge of your bed you can't help to think to yourself about the circumstances. If this were Rhys, if he could go after Tamlin you wouldn't stop him. You'd help him.

So why does he not want you anywhere near this?

Your door opens and you green yourself up for a fight, thinking it's Rhys. But when your eyes meet Azriel's you deflate a little bit. Actually a lot. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes.

"I'll ask him to put me on the mission. And then I'll winnow you in." he says.

You look at him in pure confusion. You can't believe what he's saying. Was Azriel...defying orders for the first time? You've never seen him do something like this. To offer you something like this?

"Az, you can't." you say.

"I can. If you agree." he says.

"Why would you disobey Rhys like that?" you ask.

He looks at you. His eyes are basically piercing into your soul. And while you look into his eyes you understand why he's not answering you. He's not saying anything but he's saying everything.

"You know why." he puts simply.

It doesn't surprise you. It doesn't come as a shock. You don't know why but with him standing there and looking at you, you feel it. What you've been feeling for a while underneath the surface.

And he doesn't say anything else. He leaves and shuts the door behind him. You sit there with nothing else to say either. You don't chase after him. You don't call out his name.

Azriel. It's Azriel. How have you been so blind this whole time?

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (49/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Climbing up the mountain can be very freeing.

Warnings: angst (self-doubt, insecurities, mentions of abuse in a relationship, Charles is very insecure about himself), the end is a bit fluffy, but don't expect too much

Word Count: 4.1k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: I feel like this describes Charles well. I cried when writing this chapter. I hope you like it. feedback is appreciated.

It is the first time in years that Charles has no desire to climb the mountain on those stupid skis. 

His feet hurt, he is cold even though the jacket he is wearing is suitable for even colder temperatures, and his hands are so stiff from the frigid air that they painfully curl around his ski poles. 

The snow blinds him because of the bright sun, his bones feel heavy, somehow his mouth is so dry that he would like to rinse it with water every five meters.

But maybe that's just because he'd rather be at home in Monaco. Because that's where you are. And there is no place he would rather be right now. 

Closing the door behind him and leaving you alone in the apartment was incredibly difficult. He would have loved to put you in his bag and take you with him, but you would only have distracted him from training. 

And if he wants to be world champion one day, he can't afford to make any mistakes. 

It's been two days since he's seen you and heard your voice. In the morning, when he wakes up and gets ready for the day, you are still fast asleep, and during his training, Andrea has his phone so that Charles can collect his thoughts and stay focused. Only in the evening, when Charles is in bed, he manages to text you a few messages before falling asleep, cell phone in hand, completely exhausted. 

He misses you every second. 

Before he met you, he would never have imagined that he could miss someone he had only known for a few days so much. He had missed Annika from time to time, after all, he had definitely loved her at some point, but he had never longed for her or anyone else the way he did for you now. 

As soon as he has a moment to himself, whether it's in the shower or on the toilet or when Andrea isn't bothering him with calories or carbohydrates or protein for a moment, he misses you so much that he can almost feel the physical distance between you. 

But most of all, he misses you in the morning when he wakes up. When he is in that one second when he is neither sleeping nor fully awake. Snuggled up warm in the blanket and against the pillow, where in the evening he imagines it would be your body that he is snuggling up to. And in the morning, for a brief moment, it feels as if you are actually lying next to him, which is why the second he realizes that you are miles away from him hurts the most. 

“Are you okay?” Andrea asks, who has slowed down a little to run up the hill next to Charles. ”You're suspiciously quiet.”

Charles, who hasn't realized that he has slowed down at all, looks at his trainer in confusion. “Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

Andrea shrugs. ”Usually you're chattering away at me during training. That usually helps you to distract yourself from how exhausting it is.”

He has a point there. Charles pushes himself forward on his skis. “I don't know. This time I don't feel like you're torturing me up this mountain. It's still the same route we usually take, isn't it?” He looks around as if he can recognize the surroundings. 

Andrea raises his eyebrows and also picks up the pace. ‘We're in a completely different area, Charles.’ He points to another mountain with his gloved hand.

If his friend hadn't told him, the man from Monaco would never have noticed, so absorbed is he in his thoughts about you. The mountain Andrea is pointing to seems more familiar to him than the one in front of them. And a lot smaller. If they had taken the familiar route, they would have been at the summit long ago. 

“You asshole,” Charles curses and wipes his face. ‘Why did you choose a different mountain? And especially one that's higher?”

Andrea can't help but grin. ’You came in second in the championship this year. I'm hoping that if we increase your training, you'll come in first next season and...”

“And what?” Charles interrupts his trainer. "The whole thing is useless if my strategists and the whole team mess up so much during the race. I can train as much as I want. It won't work." He gets so caught up in it that he doesn't notice how quickly he pushes himself up the mountain on his skis. 

“Charles –”

“No, Andrea. This whole thing cost me the title. Wrong tires? Last-minute changes in the pit? What the hell?” he gets worked up. He knows that his anger is unfairly directed at the wrong person, after all Andrea is only there for Charles's well-being and not for what happens on the track, but it just comes spilling out. And he can't stop it. 

His ski poles dig deep into the white snow, which Charles barely notices. He only sees the summit in front of him and hears Andrea breathing loudly next to him as he continues to complain. 

“It's not right that I come in second because of such little things! If I had caused accidents, then at least it would have been my fault and I could have dealt with it more easily,” he says, annoyed. ”But what kind of stupid plans were these, anyway? Even a toddler could come up with a better strategy!”

Andrea, who knows full well that Charles needs to vent his anger, walks quietly beside him and lets the storm pass over him. It's not often that Charles gets this angry. And normally he blames himself, but he certainly doesn't take such serious mistakes on his head. 

Charles knows that making mistakes is an inevitable part of competition, and sometimes, they're the difference between standing at the top of the podium and finishing second. Being the runner-up in a championship can feel bittersweet – so close to victory, yet just short of it. 

Being second in the championship feels like a mix of pride and frustration. On one hand, Charles has achieved something incredible – outperforming almost everyone, proving his skill and showing that he deserves to sit in the red car with the horse on it. But on the other hand, there's that lingering thought inside of his head – he was so close. The tiniest mistakes, the small miscalculations in his strategies, or someone else having a slightly better day made the difference in the end. 

There's this ache inside of him, knowing he was almost the champion. The podium felt different when he looked up at Max Verstappen holding the trophy he desperately craved. Charles felt a lot of things in that moment – disappointment, regret and even anger – at himself, the situation, the team and at the margin that kept him from winning. 

“I could have won the title. Max will definitely win the next season too, as strong as Red Bull is. How will I ever live up to my reputation then?” He clenches his jaw. ”I feel like I'm stuck with what I'm doing now. And I'm doing my best, Andrea. I really am. But it's apparently not enough. Do you know how incredibly frustrating that is?”

Being second carries a unique weight – a strange middle ground between triumph and heartbreak. And hell, Charles heart broke with every race that put more distance between his and Max's points. He feels like a failure, like he failed his team, his family and friends. He failed his fans, that support him through every decision he makes on and off track, that defend him whenever he makes a mistake during races. 

And it haunts him. What if he had pushed just a little harder, made one less mistake, reacted a second faster? What if he made a different decision that would've outweighed the mistakes his team made? What if he became world champion in the famous red car he worked so hard to get into? The famous red car that his dad loved so much?

Disappointing his dad was the worst part of it all. It was a different kind of pain, heavy and crushing. It's not just about failing at something – Charles feels like he simply isn't good enough. Like he let someone down who believed in him. He could have been champion this year – he was so close to standing on top of the podium. What if he never gets this close to winning? What if he never holds the big trophy in his hands, dedicating it to his dad, who always wanted to see him drive in the Ferrari?

Charles' anger has been building up for so long that he doesn't know where to put it. If only he had concentrated more on the season and hadn't been so distracted by his personal problems - 

“And Annika. What a waste of time the whole thing was. I should never have gotten involved with her. I should have ended the relationship when I realized that she wasn't the one. When I realized that I couldn't give her the attention that a healthy relationship requires.”

Charles would never admit it, but Annika’s betrayal in their relationship cut deeper than expected. It’s not just about broken promises – it’s about broken trust, the foundation of any meaningful connection. It shook everything Charles believed to be true about Annika – or love in general. 

The worst part wasn’t the act itself or that he caught them right in the act, but the realization that someone he trusted with his heart made the choice to hurt him. After the break-up he questioned everything – was any of it real? Was Annika lying to him the whole time? Even after everything, the wounds linger. 

Some betrayals are survivable with time and effort, but others leave scars that never fully heal. They change people – it changed Charles. It hardened his heart, made love feel dangerous to him and made him create walls where there once was openness. 

He guarded himself like a survival instinct. At first, it was solely for protection – he told himself that if he didn’t let anyone in, nobody could hurt him. The walls became his shield, keeping out disappointment, rejection, and the risk of being vulnerable again. 

But over the course of the weeks, Charles noticed the walls he put up brick by brick didn’t just keep the pain out – they kept everything out. Love. Connection. The chance to feel something real. Hell, he didn’t even tell his Maman that he was back home in Monaco. He pushed his family away, his friends, acting cold and distant – not because he didn’t want love, but because he’s so scared of what happened when he let someone else in. 

It took Charles some time to figure out the truth, that the walls didn’t keep him safe and sound – they kept him stuck. They stopped him from healing, from growing, from experiencing the things that make life meaningful. But he was so scared of breaking them down when it took him so long to put them up, that he didn’t know what to do when he met you. 

It was terrifying, letting you in slowly and hesitantly. He’s spent so long guarding himself, convincing himself that no one except his close ones can be trusted, that it almost felt unnatural to let you in. At first, he resisted, kept his distance. But the fact that you didn’t even know who he was felt so good, made him feel safe to share his story with you and then – you stayed. You didn’t push too hard, but you didn’t walk away either. 

Surely, this friendship has had it’s ups and downs, but this is what happenes when two people, who protected themselves so much that they become too careful, too hesitant to let someone in fully. 

And instead of forcing your way through, you waited. You were there. You proved in small, consistent ways, that you’re not like the woman who made him built those walls in the first place. 

And then, without realizing it, he stopped expecting the worst. He let you see his wounds, his fears, his past, and instead of running, you stayed. You stayed with him through awkward dinner conversations about his ex, you stayed with him when he didn’t correct his family about your relationship status, you stayed when he overstepped the boundaries of your friendship. Your gentle touch, your honest conversations while burning Annika’s things. 

You stayed when he revealed to you who he really is. You see him – the real him – and don’t flinch at what you see. Little by little, cracks form in his defenses. He finds himself wanting to trust again, to love again, even though it scares him to death. 

When you look at him, it feels like sunlight creeping through the cracks in the fortress he thought were unbreakable. It was unsettling at first after being in the dark for some time. But you didn’t break down his walls in a dramatic, earth-shattering way. 

It was quiet. Subtle. It sneaked up to him in moments he didn’t even realize – they way you looked at him when he played your song on the piano in the bookshop, when you let him hold you while you cried like his arms were the safest place in the world, when you showed him that you want him for who he is. 

But even though you broke down most of his walls, he still can’t admit that you’re all he needs. 

He can’t let you in fully after what Annika did to him, he can’t let you touch him like he wants you to. He can’t let himself feel so much for you because what if those feelings he has for you – the feelings he swore he’d never harbour for anyone again – are not enough for you?

What if he gives you his all and you decide that it’s not enough? That he is not enough? He can’t tell you why he doesn’t want you to touch him, because what if you’ll see him differently? What if the things he wants, he needs, are different from what you want? 

He feels like he isn’t good enough. The scars Annika left on him made him question his worth, his value, his ability to be loved. There are moments where he feels too far gone, too damaged, not strong enough to break free from the fear of losing you that he’d rather keep you at arms length hurting himself than push you away and out of his life. 

He can’t let you touch him after Annika, because sex with her felt wrong, like he was broken because he wanted different things than her. Because he craved intimacy like his life depended on it, the safety that comes with it, but it always felt like he needed to deliver, even if he didn’t want to. It felt like a chore, no gentle touches or loving words, only demanding hands and lips and thighs and he swore to himself he’ll never let it happen again. 

If you don’t touch him at all, there’s no chance you could hurt him like that.

He’d rather give you all he’s able to give instead of letting you return anything.

“I could have waited for…”

“Charles.” Andreas‘ voice is gentle and soothing, in contrast to Charles’. When the man from Monaco looks at his friend, he smiles at him. ”We're here.”

The wind howls at the summit, biting and cold, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel it. He can’t feel anything except the weight that presses down on his chest. He stands there on top oft he world – and all the space in the world couldn’t quiet the chaos inside him. 

Andrea chose this route to help Charles clear his head, the mountain was supposed to be his escape, his victory. He climbed every inch of it, each slide of his skis pushing him further from the mess he feels inside. The view from the top is actually breathtaking: endless stretches of jagged peaks, skies that feel closer than ever. He should feel something – pride, accomplishment, freedom. But instead, there’s only the overwhelming silence that gnawed at him. 

For a moment, everything is still. He pulls his beanie and glasses from his head, closing his eyes and trying to ground himself in the beauty around him, but the images, the memories, everything – it all comes flooding back. The things he can’t outrun. The words that had been sad. The choices that had left him fractured and alone. 

A sob caught in his throat, sharp and unexpected and he falls to his knees in the white snow at his feet. The tries to fight it, but the tears come anyway – slow at first, then faster and harder. They burn against the cold wind, mixing with the salt of the sweat on his skin – and he can’t stop them. 

They stand for everything he hasn’t been able to say, everything he has be scared to face. He thought he could bury it, hide it behind the walls he built, behind the distance from it all. 

His hand tremble on his thighs, his chest tightening with every broken breath. His vision blurred, the edges oft he mountain fading into the background. It doesn’t matter that he’s at the top – he feels smaller than ever. The tears slip down his cheeks like a rush of a river too long dammed. 

„I’m not enough“, he whispered almost unaudibly. A confession only the mountains and his friend could hear. „I’m never going to be enough.“

The world stretched out before him, magnificent and indifferent, and in that moment, he realized that being on top oft he mountain didn’t mean escaping it all. He had climbed all this way, but he couldn’t outrun himself. The hurt, the mistakes, the weight of everything he’d buried deep inside. 

He doesnt flinch when he feels Andrea’s hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing and reassuring him that whatever he feels right now is okay. That the tears that fall down onto the snow have their right to exist after being bottled up for so long. 

The sobs faded, leaving him gasping for air in the stillness of the summit. He wiped his face, trying to wipe away the brokennes, but it lingered in his chest. His hands still trembling from the release, from the rawness that had bubbled to the surface. For a long moment, he just sits there, the wind biting at him, the emptiness inside him as a vast as the world stretched out before him. 

And then it hit him, like a sudden punch that knocked the breath from his lungs. 

You. 

Your laugh. Your smile. The way you always seem to know what he’s thinking, the way you care in the quietest ways – how you’ve been there for him, even when he pushed you away. How, despite everything, you stayed. 

He tried so hard to tell himself that he’s better off alone, that he doesn’t need anyone else to fill the empty spaces inside him. He thought he could bury his feelings, run from the truth. He has told himself that love was something to fear, something that could trap him, break him, leave him just as broken as he’d been before.

But now, sitting on top of the world, it all makes sense. 

He loves you. He always has. He can feel it in every part of him, the truth that has been there all along, buried under layers of fear and pride. It’s not something he can outrun, not anymore. He can’t ignore the way his heart always beats faster when you’re near, the way everything seems to fall into place when you smile at him, the way your presence has been the one thing that feels like home. 

The moment of realization hits him like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. It’s undeniable. 

He loves you.

Not in the casual, passing way he once tried to convice himself was enough for his relationship with Annika, but in a deeper, truer sense. It’s always been you – only you. Right from the start when the both of you stood in the small apartment. 

But the weight o fit, the sheer force of that truth, felt like it could crush him, especially when he realizes how long he’s been running from it. 

His heart races, pounding hard in his chest, but it isn’t the kind of excitement he thought would come with such a revelation. Instead, it is quiet terror. The terror of feeling too much. Of feeling anything at all. 

His breath comes in shallow gasps as the cold mountain air cuts through him. It isn’t the altitude or the wind that chills him – it’s the fear of being too vulnerable again. Of letting anyone close enough to hurt him. The thought of telling you, of exposing his raw, vulnerable part of himself, feels like standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to climb back down. 

He stares out over the vast horizon, the world stretching out endlessly beneath him, and for a moment, he considers it. The possibility of going back, of telling you everything he has just realized. But the thought of your eyes on him, the weight of the words, the vulnerability—it‘s too much. Too raw. Too dangerous.

So, he stays silent. He stays with the truth, buried deep inside of him. The love he feels for you is now his secret, locked away like a fragile thing, too delicate to share. He can‘t find the courage to let it out—not now, not after everything that had happened.

But there is something about knowing, about feeling it — just knowing that he can love again — that makes the world feel a little less heavy. It isn’t perfect, and it doesn‘t fix everything, but it is enough. For the first time in a long time, he doesn‘t feel so broken. He isn’t empty. He is filled with something — something soft, something he thought was gone forever.

Maybe he isn’t ready to tell you. Maybe he will never be ready. But the knowledge that love still exists in him — that it can still find him, even after everything — is enough to hold onto for now. It isn’t a victory, not in the way he wants, but it is a beginning. And in that, there is a quiet peace. A peace that, despite all the fear and hesitation, he coul still feel, still hope.

And that, for the moment, is enough.

[gothghostiie]

the babysitter!reader chronicles shall continue for I am babysitting

cw: fluff, age gap, size difference if you squint, gn!reader

price arranging for you to stay for a bit over 2 weeks, he's on deployment spontaneously and no one he usually asks has time. he really doesnt want to bother you, doesn't wanna overwhelm you with the calm little infant and suddenly staying a whole two weeks and then some at his place. but you're his last option, hes desperate, quite frankly. so he gives you a call and you're absolutely delighted to come over, even if it's on short notice. how could you not go see your favourite baby? so now here you are, around 1 ½ weeks in, all cozy in his home. you're having dinner with the baby when a set of keys jingle in the door.

You loom up, a bit worried, honestly. no one should have a key, john didn't tell you anyone was coming over - and you frankly didn't believe he'd send someone to check up on you out of the blue. you listen close, a set of heavy steps making you perk up, even the baby is silent at the look of concentration on your face. the door closes and a heavy thud follows shortly after - then a loud groan. your face immediately lightens up and so does the baby's, you both recognise the low voice. you shimmy out of your seat, the little one making grabby hands at you, wanting out of their highchair. you quickly lift the baby, settling it onto your side and scrambling towards the front door, both of you giggling softly at the sight of price stretching, old bones cracking. "Look who's there!" you loudly whisper to the infant, who babbles happily. John looks just as happy as them, you can see the resemblance once again (especially in both their chubby cheeks, paired with the smile). he doesnt even bother taking off the fingerless gloves on his dirty hands before grabbing his little one, snuggling them to him as they giggle and squirm.

"there's my favorite sweethearts.." he murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to the little head. his voice is rough and raspy, he's been yelling, his lips are chapped and dry, there's dark bags under his eyes - and yet he's still smiling down at both of you. he settles the baby against his side, eyeing you over briefly, his smirk widening. "C'mere." he says gently, lifting his other arm to pull you in close, against the black fleece jacket he's wearing. you hesitate just briefly before hugging him back, heat creeping into your face.

"You're home early." you say softly, relaxing into him a bit as his big hand rubs your back gently, cradling the back of your head to make you lean against his chest.

"mh. got finished earlier than we anticipated." he says briefly, his tone telling you you better not keep poking; so you don't. you stay like this for a few more moments - even if he could've stayed like this for much, much longer. you pull away, straightening your clothes a little as you clear your throat; taking the baby again.

"You gotta be starving. How about you go shower and I'll fix you a plate? Just go sit in the living room when you're done, your show should still be on."

John never wanted to marry anyone more.

[specialgradefckr]

nerd!gojo is so cute! please give him a kiss on the cheek for me.

you stare at the note you found in your locker. it's written in glittery purple ink, which only adds to the insult.

gojo, "cute"??? give him a kiss on the cheek???

like an ill omen summoned by its name, a terrible presence looms over your shoulder, "watcha got there?"

"hate mail." you say dispassionately as you quickly shove gojo away.

when you face him, you see gojo's face change - smooth features and rounded eyes hardening into anger.

"hate mail?" gojo frowns, "in your locker? who would send that?!"

"you want a list?" comes geto's snarky voice. "she's kind of a bitch."

you shoot him a glare, but gojo speaks before you can.

"don't talk about her like that."

the room feels a little bit colder. since when did gojo sound so... mean?

"i'm just saying," geto says, shrugging, "you'd know better than anyone, she's always on your ass."

"yeah, my ass," gojo turns to you, a pout on his face, "you're not bullying other people, are you? i don't have any other bullies."

only satoru gojo could get into an argument this stupid.

"no," you drone, "your drain on my time and attention is uncontested."

rather than being ashamed of this, gojo looks absolutely tickled.

even when you punch him in the shoulder, his good mood is undampened.

"nerd," you grouse, stalking off to your next class, which gojo naturally follows.

it sucked being in the same classes as him, but at least it meant you could get his help. he really is a huge nerd. all those hours you put into it, and he seems to understand everything effortlessly.

the class feels like it takes hours. you pay diligent attention, take so many notes, and somehow, gojo comes out of it completely chipper.

you're left in peace for a few blessed minutes afterwards as he bolts out of the room for some reason or another.

is he finally starting to fear you as his bully? took him long enough -

"here!" pressed into your hands, your favorite snack from the campus vending machine.

gojo smiles at you, that big, boyish smile that makes him look extra stupid. "sorry i messed up last time."

you don't know what comes over you. maybe it's pure delirium brought on by hunger. or the joy from having something nice to eat.

maybe it's a new form of torture, humiliating him by making him endure a kiss from his bully.

it's just a kiss on the cheek. it's whatever.

he stands there, still, face completely red, blue eyes wide in shock. gojo looks even dumber than usual, which shouldn't even be possible.

you fan your face for a moment as you turn to leave.

"come on, you idiot. we've got a test to study for."

gojo whistles some unbelievably stupid tune, practically skipping the whole way to the library.

"i can't believe it! she kissed me on the cheek!!! a real kiss!" "uh-huh." "don't uh-huh me, suguru, it was REAL! anyways, it all makes sense now. she was just hangry. no wonder she shoved me into a locker. it's my fault for not taking better care of her..." "would you listen to me if i reminded you that you're not dating and this is all pure delusion?" "not dating yet." "so a no, then," suguru says, rolling his eyes as he returns to his work. satoru's already finished with the homework and scrolling through his text message history with you, no doubt spamming you again with memes or pictures or just remarks. but you haven't blocked him yet, have you? suguru smiles to himself, closing his notebook, tucking away a shimmering violet pen.

[captainclickycat]

Whoops turns out I have Further Thoughts on this.

So, here's the thing. We could argue a lot about whether or not characters in horror films make stupid decisions and how it depends on the individual film and what have you all day long. And I'm sure we could come up with a few examples on either side of the argument.

But I think there's a broader point here which is that when people say "what if there was a horror movie that featured a convenient and straightforward way for the characters to get out of trouble without making any sacrifices along the way, so they did that and were fine, the end", and especially when they present this as some kind of refreshing new take on the genre...

Well, aside from the fact that this would make for a very boring and disappointing story for anyone who actually wanted to watch a horror film, it has the same energy as those people who are presented with moral dilemmas as a thought exercise and get fixated on "what if there was a way to stop the trolley and save all six people" "what if you could replace the Omelas kid with a robot" and so on. It's a copout, and it really does come off more like they're balking at the idea that suffering is sometimes unavoidable, that sometimes there are no easy answers and any decision you make comes at a cost.

It reminds me of this other post that was going round a decade or so ago, where the title was something like "horror movies for our generation" and the gist of the whole thing was essentially "if millennials were in a horror movie scenario we'd be able to fix everything and save ourselves straight away because we're so smart and progressive and have the best resources!" (Which to add a bit of extra context was clearly pushing back against a lot of the "millennials are stupid children who don't know how to do anything" think piece discourse that was floating around at the time) and a lot of people in the notes (possibly even including me, at the time) going "omg I need this!! I'd watch the shit out of this!!" which, when you think about it, is really weird when you acknowledge that the scenarios being described were essentially just "what if something that claimed to be a horror story actually just had no plot."

The idea of a horror story where the characters make sensible, realistic, understandable decisions is potentially a great premise (and again, there are plenty of existing horror stories that already meet that criteria.) Crucially, though, that can't be enough to get them out of trouble, at least not instantaneously.

If you could avoid getting lost in the scary woods just by using your trusty functioning gps tracker, there would be no story. So in an actual horror story, the gps wouldn't work, or it would be hijacked by some sinister entity and end up landing the characters right back where they started, or lead them further into danger. The characters happen to have the exact right combination of personalities and skillsets to instantly defeat the monster and go home? Well, first of all that's just dumb luck, and second of all that can't work right away either. There would be a different monster that they can't defeat so easily, or they simply don't have enough information or opportunity for most of the story to be able to actually use their collective skills against it. You managed to evade the killer and get out of the creepy log cabin unharmed? Congratulations. Your best friend is still in there, though, and they might be injured. Are you comfortable leaving them behind and hoping they can fend for themself while you get away? What if it's your child? Sometimes the "stupid" decision is the one you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you didn't make.

I'm going to give the "cozy romance" person props because at least they're honest about the fact that they don't actually want a horror story, and at least the story they're proposing would actually have a plot, just not a horror one. I can see where their thought process was going; there is something cool about the idea of a secret secondary plot going on in the background that the protagonist managed to narrowly avoid, that we can put the pieces together about if we pay close enough attention. (It's not the best example, there are undoubtedly better ones, but it reminds me a bit of Shaun of the Dead where we get these hints that there's a doppelgänger squad running around in the background, and it seems like just a one-off joke until one of them shows up at the end with the military in tow.)

But the thing about that example and a lot of the other ones is that there's eventually a payoff. Ultimately it does affect the protagonists in some way, even if it's sometimes a subtle way. And there's something sort of weird, and just a little jarring, about the idea of reading a story where you're sort of vaguely aware that horrible things are happening to some poor bastard in the background, and your only takeaway from that is supposed to be "oh well, sucks to be them. Let's continue to enjoy watching these Sensible people kiss! Yay!" Apart from maybe being a cool sort of easter egg, what exactly is the point of this subplot, besides imparting the profoundly unsatisfying message of "you can easily avoid danger and have a wonderful life if you're just smart and sensible enough!" when that's so often and so tragically untrue in real life.

And that's why I feel like this would be a much better premise if the horror eventually caught up with the protagonist. Because sorry folks, but escaping the genre unscathed is too easy and too unsatisfying. It has to at least be a challenge, or there's no story worth reading.

You can't just replace the Omelas kid with a robot.

people are so mean about horror movie victims like. sorry but if i had gone to a cabin in the woods with my friends as a teenager you couldn't have stopped us from reading aloud from the evil tome. how were they supposed to know the ancient curse was real they're like 17

[scissorcentral]

Abby with a reader who's just •_• bug eyed and silent lmao, very oblivious to everything, always in their own world, but very endearing and sweet to abs <3

Abby with a more introverted(?) reader-

warnings- (there aren't really i don't think)

-Abby literally thinks you are the most adorable human being ever. Whenever you space out during group discussions, she literally can't help but laugh to herself before slinging her arm around you and holding you against her until you come back to reality (because of course you're always directly next to her).

-If anyone tries to make little jokes or tease you about your speaking habits or anything about you, she will shut them up so fast you literally won't even have time to notice. It gets a point where nobody even thinks about trying because Abby will either clap back, aiming to destroy their ego, or give them the most insane death glare. Like the type of look that could kill, and it probably could if she tried hard enough.

-You can't help but mess with her fingers and drift off sometimes and she literally will have like hearts in her eyes as she watches you. You're completely silent just running your fingers all over her hands and she will just watch in awe with a soft blush on her cheeks. She's literally enamored by you and whatever you do.

-Whenever you are out on patrol together, she ALWAYS makes sure to keep an eye on you no matter what. She knows you can get a little off track, your mind sometimes wandering causing you to wander a bit to. After her dad's death she refuses to lose you so she makes sure to never let you out of her sight as long as she can help it.

-Sometimes you guys will sneak off and find a building with an accessible roof and you will just sit for hours. Sometimes you guys won't even speak, and other times Abby will talk for the entire time as you listen to every word she says. Sometimes its rant and other times it's some stupid store that sends you both into a fit of giggles. Her main goal is always getting some laughs out of you which she always does, rant or not. She lives for the sound of your laughter.

-Her dream is to be able to see the world through your eyes. How you are able to get through most of your days without talking or talking so little. How you can be so oblivious to things but also so insightful to other things. She is so obsessed with you and how you go about your life. She wishes she could know what it's like, but even though she really can't she does everything in her power to understand you.

-Before you guys got together, Abby had been literally in love with you, but you never noticed her advances. She would get so angry, like screaming into her pillow angry. It would make her so embarrassed how pathetic she'd get but she still continued to try. Eventually you caught on after she had to be so extremely blunt. Now the whole thing is something she just teases you about, but your obliviousness is something she has grown to completely love. It's so cute to her now(it wasn't cute when she was putting her reputation on the line with her extremely obvious advances(well obvious to everyone but you))

-If you ever get lost in your head she's always there to try and ease you out. It becomes a thing she is really good at. Holding you close to her, her thumbs rubbing softly over your skin, light kisses on your temple. It's sweet and something you become incredibly grateful for. You will always show your appreciation by leaving a new coin on her nightstand that you had secretly found on a patrol.

-Abby makes it her fucking mission to see you smile. Whatever she has to do she will do (which can be a little concerning). She thinks your smile is the cutest thing in the world and would literally die to see it once more.

-If anyone in the stadium says legit one negative word about you, she will lose it. Nobody is allowed to talk bad about you. Ever. She is so extremely protective of you. You're her everything. She knows you aren't classified as a "completely normal person" by everyone's else's standards but that's why she loves you so much. The way your eyes will glaze over slightly when you space out, the way you'll just stare at people when they send you a backhanded compliment, and the way she's the only person who gets to hear you speak and even then, it's usually quiet whispers. You've got her completely whipped. You got the Abby Anderson completely and utterly whipped.

notes- Hi. I am actually horrified to post this as I haven't written and posted on Tumblr in multiple years so it's weird to be back. This is such shit, but I hope you do enjoy. To me this writing feels like a fourth grader who just learned a few new vocab words but whatever. I'll probably go back and fix it and add more but I'm still having a crisis from just writing this so we will see. Hope you like it.

(also i didn't know how to word the title but i tried.)

[colossrat]

Marvel is old. Like, not just bcs he is a entity of zillions of years old Billy was born and imprisoned for several years in a relatively conservative time full of prejudices.

When the time bubble pops and the League finds out about it, they expect Captain Marvel to be some kind of very close-minded, militaristic guy who will find the new generation full of sins (They don't know that in Fawcett there is so much magic, different species and queer entities that it is impossible to really be a socially backward place. They also don't know that the captain is a guy who doesn't like the police very much and his favorite sport is beating up nazis)

And well, finding out that the guy you thought would give you headaches in the modern age is actually super happy about it is kind of shocking Batman already had several slides ready to give the captain a lecture about respect

Marvel: Oh my gods, I found some pamphlets about these pride parades. Mr Batman, can I take this weekend off? I would love to go with my brother there!

Batman: Your... brother?

Marvel: Yes! Well, my whole family. We were part of some protests for the queer community in my time, but we were not part of any since the bubble. He liked the idea, but he's too shy to go alone, so me, my brothers and sisters wanna go with him to support him!

Batman: ... Of course, I will arrange for someone to take over your monitor duties

And next week there are several news about how the new-old heroes appeared on pride parade.

They help with things like free water and snacks distribution, first aid for minor injuries, they ensure that no homophobes try to start a fight, they don't let it turn into a mess and in general they also participate. They are practically all painted in colorful colors, their capes are personalized, some of them are dancing, others are further away taking care of the environment. Marvel does some magic tricks, makes rainbows appear in the sky and all that And they absolutely shower the green-suited superhero, aka they bro, with support and love. Vicki Vale and Cat Grant are dying to know why

And things like this just keep happening. Is there a protest in Asia about feminism? The Shazam family will be there, Mary and Darla protesting while their brothers stand around staring at anyone who wants to intervene. Community centers for homeless charities? captain will appear to call the public, ask for support and do some tricks to please the rich Donations to hospitals? They are all out there distributing news, asking anyone who can help, to help. A movement for teacher salary justice in Brazil? They are already there to help Or are movements taking place to preserve Brazilian flora? because of the criminal fires happening in the Amazon? They are there again, using their magic to heal what was hurt, put out what burned and protest, demanding more attention from the government. Do they want to take away land from indigenous tribes? They're going to have to go over the captain first. News broke about high levels of trash in the ocean. But Aquaman barely has time to deal with it himself, he sees his co-worker there with his family gathering pieces of trash and separating them for their own disposal, using spells to separate chemicals and water pollution. Is Gotham suffering from polluted air? The captain will gather a bunch of clouds and sprinkle them with some magic, and his raindrops will gradually purify the air for the people Is a police officer being cleared after attacking a teenager? no no no, marvel will be in front of the police station in the morning along with a bunch of civilians wanting justice Does a police car, or any car in general, have a sticker that supports some kind of tyrannical movement? apology for the Nazis? to an oppressive government? a prejudiced joke? Oh man, you better be ready for dawn with every part of this car missing, probably being sold illegally and having the proceeds sent to charity The fact that the captain calls the police bastard pigs was a shock, some got defensive and such, others thought it was great. It was a slight headache for the Justice League when it came to the media, but it's not like the government liked them before The movements in Brazil are there because im brazilian, raised by a teacher, there was no way to avoid it. Billy come to brasil <3

[reddead-salem]

König who only shows affection in private, too scared his teammates would tease him about it.

König who still hasn't showed you his face, too scared you'll leave him like everyone else did.

König who sleeps like a baby when you're with him, you're the only one he feels safe around.

König who gets you anything and everything because you're his whole world and he'd do anything for you.

König who barely lifts his mask when you kiss him, too scared you'd see what's underneath.

König who would instantly choose you over anyone else in his life, you're the only one who genuinely cares for him.

König who's so proud of everything you've done, even if you don't feel the same about it.

König who wants you and only you, nobody compares to anything you have.

König who can't stand to see you upset, you deserve the whole world and more.

"what's the matter, liebling?" he'd ask as you sobbed in his arms. "no one can hurt you now, I'm here."

König who hates arguments, so if you're mad at him he'd stay silent, the only thing leaving his mouth being apologies, even if he's not sure what he's done.

“mein liebe, I’m not sure what I did to make you feel this way.. saying that probably makes you even more annoyed.. but just know that I’m truly sorry for whatever it is that I’ve done. I hope you can tell me why you’re upset, I love you more than anything and would do anything to make up for this…”

König who doesn't care how bad of a person you are or used to be, all he cares about is having you as his lover.

König who could sit and listen to you talk for hours, makes him all giddy inside hearing your pretty voice talk about anything and everything.

[carisa-ironfell]

If you're going to church just for the "sermon" and want to get pissy about getting "lectured" instead, you're not actually listening to what's being said (or your pastor isn't saying the right things) and you definitely aren't going to church for the right reasons. It's just autopilot at that point, just a pointless ritual that doesn't mean anything. And I know this from experience because that's WHY I stopped going to church. I wasn't getting anything useful out of it, and the environment was taxing my mental health instead of helping me heal. I wasn't growing, I was just miserable and angry and bitter.

The point of church, as I've always understood it ever since I was little, is to connect with the other members of your community and help each other learn and grow and continuously become better people, to follow Jesus' teachings and LOVE people. You go to church to LEARN, and when needed, to be guided back to the right path by your pastor and/or your peers. That's literally their job. For example, most of Paul's writings. (Paraphrased: Y'all are acting crazy, stop doing that. Here's how to fix it.)

You don't have to agree with others' choices in order to love them, and something that a LOT of Christians seem to miss is: if you're not getting through to someone and you can't change their mind, let it go. The seed is planted, and there's a chance that years down the line, God will speak to that person and they'll be ready to listen. Shouting in their face (literally or figuratively) is only going to make them get defensive and shut down and push that time further away.

Anyway. No one who claims to be Christian or any kind of servant of God should be rejoicing in mass slaughter. And I've had to listen to "Christians" rant about how great and amazing the nightmare in Palestine and other Middle Eastern conflicts are, and it makes me sick. Whether you agree with them or not, people don't deserve to die like that. And if there's a member of a church who tries to implore the president to do something positive about that whole disaster, don't get pissed off with them, because they seem to understand the teachings better than you do.

I don't really consider myself Christian. I want nothing to do with that (generalized) group of people, because I have yet to meet any of them who make sense to me and can help me grow. I believe in God, I do my best to act in ways that reflects Him, but until the church starts shaping up and actually behaving with love and compassion instead of hatred, I'm not involving myself with them. It's dismal to watch and it makes my heart ache. And I can only imagine God probably feels the same way in a lot of cases.

I wasn't expecting to say this much ._. Uhh, sorry if anyone actually reads this lol Be safe and well! With love, Reggie 🤍

The lack of self-awareness is truly astounding.

[meanbossart]

So I've noticed you've been getting a lot of asks along the lines of "how do I make good porn like you?" and I just thought to add in my two cents, and if you agree with what I'm saying perhaps you could publish this and it might help others, if not feel free to just ignore xD

So first of all the fact that you're also a horror/gore artist adds to your skill, there's a lot of overlap between erotisim and horror in artwork because it involves being extremly familiar with anatomy and how the body moves, and in art, like a lot of things, you needs to know how something works before you know how to break it.

People also really don't appreciate how difficult horror is as a genre, it's not enough to draw someone covered in blood holding a knife, it's mood and lighting and expression, and these are also transferable skills to erotica as so much of what sells an image as erotic is everything happening around the people involved. Colour choices, the lines around the eyes, how you depict the shine of their sweat and saliva, all these little things are part of the greater whole.

Finally, I think when it comes to improving your craft when it comes to depicting erotica is that you have to make peace with the fact that the physical act of sex is wierd and gross when you look at it objectivly. You're in wierd, undignified positions, there's a lot of mucus involved, you're sweaty and red-faced, and if you're looking at it without your brain swimming in sexy hormones it's just kinda rediculous. I think once you get over that hump of "no, I have to try and make this as pretty and aesetic as possible" and reach "okay, sex is wierd and ugly IRL" you're able to start creating things that feel more real and seemingly paradoxically become able to create things that people find arousing, because it reads as 'true' to them.

Your art is beautiful and erotic because I can believe that these guys are sticky, covered in sweat and working hard to bring each other pleasure.

Like, IDK that's how I ended up being a fairly decent erotica author, you let go of the dreamy hollywood version of sex and embrace something a bit dirtier and closer to life. If you draw enough silly 'O' faces you'll eventually find one you like!

Anyway, I hope someone finds this helpful. Also the picture of Astarion with Cazador's skull is my new favourite, the way he's pushing his thumb into the eye as the head burns in the sunlight and the blood drips down is just... so powerful, I wanna print it out and stick it in my BG3 scrap folder xD

A really useful breakdown of what makes compelling erotica and/or effective pornography!

Not a disagreement perse, but I just want to clarify to anyone reading this that being familiar with horror and gory art isn't a necessary step in this process - it just so happens to have a lot of skill-overlap, like eyesofthrone said, making the transition from one to the other easier.

Thank you for doing this write-up, and I'm extremely flattered if you or anyone reading this finds my saucy art especially compelling for any of these reasons!

[brawberryz]

I don't want to die

Batfam × negleted Asuka langley!Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error/ This story has no relation to my Evangelion AU

You hate this

You hate everything, nothing is ever fair to you

You always tried your best being batgirl but still you couldn't get anyone to tell you how proud they were of you

You were good at fighting and you solved cases in hours but still it seemed like you didn't exist for your family

Your presence was a shadow between the great walls of the mansion, you didn't understand why none of your efforts to get noticed worked

But it's okay, you don't need anyone

You didn't need his approval, you're fine alone because you know very well that no one will protect you or take care of you

But at the same time you didn't want to be alone, you wanted to experience that love that Bruce gave to his other children and which you never felt

Bruce

How you hated that name, he was never a father to you and he never will be, he pretended to be the perfect and exemplary father but deep down he was as broken and rotten as you

You hated him so much, you hated your father and your mother, You hated your brothers and you hated men

Nobody understands you and comprehends you, they pretend to like you but you know that the fake

Richard, claimed to be the eldest brother and that he cared about his brothers but you knew it was a farce, he was as hypocritical and fake as the whole family

He only showed affection to the people who suited him and if you were not useful he just ignored you

You hate him so much, his mere presence makes you nauseous and disgusted

Jason, he was an idiot just like the whole family, since he had revived he was a person full of anger and revenge

In a way you understood him a little, but then you hated him

I believed that just because his life had been miserable it didn't mean that he should make life miserable for others, sometimes you wished that the joker would beat him to death with that crowbar again

Tim, you didn't hate him as much as the others but you still despised him

Since you and he arrived at the mansion You had some kind of rivalry since you two were equally intelligent and you were very competitive children

I never wanted to admit that I was wrong and at some point you were like that too, but having Bruce always put you on his side made your blood boil

Because Bruce seemed so proud of him but with you he treated you as if you were some kind of mistake

Damian, he was the second person you hated the most every time you two saw each other it seemed like you wanted to kill each other

You still remember the first time he arrived at the mansion you weren't so excited you thought he would be another idiot you would have to deal with

You were very surprised when you saw how a katana was heading towards your head, by instinct you dodged it your years as batgirl had favored you for the first time

You didn't remember that fight well, you only knew that if your father and your brothers didn't interrupt that fight you and Damian were going to end up killing each other

But there was something that stayed in your head, when they separated you Damian you and him were equally hurt by their big fight but everyone decided to pay attention to him

Everyone was so worried about him and they had only met him a few hours ago, but you

You had lived in this mansion for more than a decade and they didn't even bother to check on you

The only one who seemed worried was Alfred who carefully tended to your wounds

You could still remember the look of disappointment and anger that your father gave you after that fight

You wanted to cry at that moment and yell at him but you couldn't, you couldn't show yourself weak

It was a simple nonsense that shouldn't affect you, you were never going to show yourself vulnerable or cry again

But deep down, you would have liked to be able to cry

Barbara, you didn't hate her but you didn't like her either, you just tolerated her since at some point she was quite useful in your missions

But you weren't going to lie that at some point you felt jealous of them when she was Batgirl, you saw how Bruce treated her with so much love as if she were a daughter

How he looked at her with pride and cared for her, and you were there looking at her with hatred without knowing why she deserved that love and you didn't

It wasn't fair, she hadn't even tried hard to get Bruce to respect her and you who spent your whole life training and becoming one of the strongest and most skilled members of the batfam he didn't even turn to look at you

Cass, you tolerated her to a certain point your opinion of her was neutral

Sometimes you used to train together but you never talked, you only got together to train or on missions that Bruce asked her to accompany you

Steph, you met her when she was Robin, you got along well at the beginning but when she stopped being Robin you two separated and stopped talking for a while

When she came back she looked so different as if something had changed, you had heard that she went through a lot of things when she left like getting pregnant or something

You just kept quiet and didn't ask her so as not to make her uncomfortable

Your life wasn't the best but you learned to live like that, you got used to this life full of disappointment

Maybe you should just accept this life and wait to die, no one will remember you and the only thing people will remember will be batman's invisible daughter

You will remain as one of Bruce's many mistakes, a mistake he could never fix

_

It was another mission, it was easy you just had to deactivate some bombs that the scarecrow had placed in some buildings, you had done it many times it shouldn't be difficult

And as you sensed it was very easy, there was only one bomb left that was located in a warehouse

You were confident without paying attention to the warning of your father and oracle

You quickly went to the place where the bomb was located, you had deactivated many bombs this one should not be so difficult

But you trusted too much

Oh no

It was a trap, a fucking one

Before you could react the bomb ended up throwing the toxic fear all over the place and you didn't even have time to react

"(NAME)!"

Bruce shouted trying to get you out of there but it was too late

He could see how your body fell to the ground trembling while tears came out of your eyes

He could hear how you screamed in fear and begged for it to stop

"NO! NO PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME REMEMBER, ANYTHING BUT THAT!"

You said between screams while you grabbed your head and curled up further into yourself

Bruce was surprised to see you in that state, he had never seen you so vulnerable and scared

He knew it was the fear gas's fault but he was still surprised, not even when you were little and had come to the mansion you never showed yourself scared or vulnerable

Since you were little you always had that look full of hate and resentment

He quickly went to you to check your condition, he hugged you tightly to prevent you from hurting yourself because of your state

"(Name)!, please react!"

He said trying to make you see reason but all you did was scream in pain and agony

Whatever you were hallucinating was much worse than anything

_

Your head was full of memories of your childhood and that incident

You were supposed to forget it forever but apparently they decided to come back

...

You didn't remember your mother's face, it was a blur between your memories you only remember her tired voice

When you were little you didn't understand why she always seemed so depressed and tired, you were too young to understand the world around you

She was hardly ever home and if she was she was always lying on the couch drinking cheap alcohol

You always asked her what was wrong but she always answered "it's adult things, honey"

In those moments your little self wished you could be an adult and understand everything, to be able to help your mom with whatever she was suffering

But you couldn't, you were a little girl unaware of the world and the problems that surrounded her

You wished your mother had been more present in your life

You knew she had to work for hours and then come back tired, but still...

You still wanted her love

You saw how the other kids at school came to pick them up, how they hugged their parents happily

Hugs

Have you always wanted to know what it would feel like to have someone hug you, would it feel as warm and comfortable as many say?

You just wanted to experience that, deep down you dreamed that someone would hug you in such a quality and loving way

Then that day came, you could still remember it

You had come home from school as usual, everything seemed normal

Too normal

"Mom, I'm home!"

Screaming at you as you took off your shoes and left your backpack on the table

You found it strange that she didn't answer since she was supposed to stay home today

You walked down the small hallway of the apartment until you reached your mother's door

It was half open and you thought he was asleep, you opened it excitedly but all that joy and excitement disappeared as soon as you saw that horrible scene

"M-mom..."

You said in shock looking at her hanging body, small tears came out of your eyes as you looked at that scene completely paralyzed

You quickly reacted and went to her crying, praying to any god that existed that this wasn't real

But it was real, your mother's skin was as cold as the snow falling outside the apartment

After that it seemed that your memory decided to erase all traces of something you remembered

To a certain extent you could still feel your mother's cold skin between your hands

When you were little you didn't understand why Your mother had done that, but now

Now you understood everything...

_

You woke up in your bed, you heard the soft knock on your door

It was Alfred asking you to go have breakfast

"I'm not hungry Alfred, just leave me alone please..."

You said in a tired tone, it was the same tone your mother had

You curled up further in your bed, the old butler said something you weren't able to hear but you didn't care either

Nothing mattered anymore

So the days went by, you weren't even able to get out of your bed or eat

Even the batfam was surprised not to see you as usual to patrol

Richard decided to check on you and almost fainted when he saw your condition, your room was a mess, full of dirty clothes and other things

It was almost impossible to walk around there, your floor was full of things like books, clothes and other things that he didn't want to know what it was

But the worst was your appearance, you smelled terribly bad and your hair was greasy

He quickly forced you to take a shower, he had to push you into the bathroom since you didn't even deign to answer or get up

After Richard told the rest of the family about your sorry state something inside them turned on, like a protective instinct towards his sister

Now they had to force you to do things as mundane as bathing or eating, since apparently you weren't even capable of doing it by yourself

Each member of the batfam tried to cheer you up in their own way

Jason took you with him to the library while he told you about the new book he was reading, he thought it might be interesting for you but all you did was give him a tired look

Tim made you sit next to him while he worked on his computer, sometimes he asked you if you wanted to help him in some case but you just refused

The old you would have accepted without hesitation but the old you was no longer there

Damian and Cass made you go with them to train with them but you refused, arguing that you were too tired or didn't feel like it

So they just made you sit there while you watched them train since Bruce asked everyone to keep an eye on you

Steph and Barbara tried to cheer you up by making you spend time with them, but nothing worked

You gave them the same empty and tired look you gave everyone

Bruce decided that the best thing was to take you out of school and take you with him to work, since according to him you were in a very delicate and vulnerable state

Besides he could educate you, you didn't need any teacher when you had him, it was much better since you spent all day by his side and he could control you better

Richard tried to get you to bake a cake with him but all you did was look at him tiredly before nodding at his idea

But he still tried to make you happy while you two cooked but nothing could make you feel something

You were like a doll without emotions, you had entered a state where you couldn't even tell what was real and what wasn't

Your body was there but your conscience wasn't

But don't worry, as long as you're next to them you don't have to worry about anything

I'm thinking of updating Goodbye World My soon, there are just a few things left to edit and then I'll upload it

Leaving that aside, I hope you enjoy this!

@strwberryglass

[topluvr]

https://www.tumblr.com/topluvr/774755990647226368/husbandkwon-ji-yong-x-wifereader-headcanons-an?source=share

hey girly could you make a T.O.P version of this??

husband!choi seung-hyun x wife!reader headcanons

Warnings: fluff

★Reassuring your husband Seung-Hyun. You and Seung-Hyun were currently having a movie night, you loved having nights like this with him it doesn't happen often as you both are busy with work most of the time. You were both on the couch, your head resting against his shoulder and a blanket pulled over your bodies. Suddenly the movie was interrupted by a phone ringing, you sit up and see its Seung hymns phone. "Sorry baby I have to take this". He apologised kissing your lips before leaving the room. He returns 15 minutes later, his mood slightly changed which you noticed. "Everything okay?" You ask giving him a soft smile. "Yeah I urm got offered a role in a show." He replied quietly. "Thats amazing seunghyun." you smiled at the news, your smile slightly disappearing when your saw your husbands face. “Thats good news isn't it?" you say, he sighs and walks to sit back next to you on the couch. "Yeah its good but I don't think im going to accept it." He says looking up at you, You immediately knew why he was acting like this he always overthinks and he just doesn't think he deserves certain things. "Hey, stop overthinking you know you deserve this more then anyone, I think this is a perfect opportunity for you to get back into acting." You say reaching out to hold his hand in yours. "I know, its just I don't want anyone to be affected by my past." He confessed squeezing your hand. "Seung Hyun you've learnt from your mistakes and you have fans who support and love you so much, and I know they would love to see you acting again. As for the other people who can't let what you did go, you need to ignore them they just want to bring you down baby."

★Reacting to seung-hyuns new hair. You were currently finishing up cleaning the dishes, seunghyun was on his first day of set after years, he got a role to be apart of the squid game cast he’s been extremely nervous and at one point almost declined, but you reassured him and told him how proud you were that he took the opportunity. You heard the front door open. “sweetheart?” He spoke out. “I’m in the kitchen.” You said, you heard his steps come closer to the kitchen where you were washing the last couple of dishes. you heard his footsteps stop. “seunghyun?” You ask turning around. “close your eyes y/n i have a surprise.” He laughed, you close your eyes and wait for him. “okay their closed.” You giggle, You hear his foot steps come into the kitchen where he eventually made his way over to you. “okay open.” He finally spoke out, you open your eyes and gasp when you see his hair, his own natural color now replaced with a bright purple. “Wow, i love it.” You say reaching your hand out to put your fingers through it. “really? it’s for my new role.” He smiled relaxing into your touches. “mhm it’s really hot.” You smirk causing him to let a small chuckle. “Thank you baby.” He said pulling you closer to him by your waist, he smiled at you before connecting his lips to yours.

★Your husband Seung Hyun making you taste test his wine. Seunghyun was currently placing 4 boxes of wine on the counter in front of you. He recently decided to start up a wine company, you supported him all the way through it and you are so proud of him. So today he wanted you both to taste test the wines. “Thank you for helping me with this baby, and for being my wine taste tester.” He smiled pulling two wine glasses from the kitchen cabinet. “I won’t say no to free wine.” You giggle watching him open and pour the first bottle of wine. Once the glasses were to the same amount seunghyun gave you a glass, You thanked him and downed the whole glass quickly. “Aish y/n, calm down you’re meant to savour the flavours.” He said with a serious tone, you laugh at his tone. “Oops”. After he finished his wine he opened the second bottle and poured the wine into the glasses again. “This one is more fruity and sweet.” He explained taking a sip and letting it stay in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. You followed his actions taking a smaller sip then last time, you swirled the wine around your mouth pretending to be professional, Seunghyun laughed at your actions. “so how is it?” He asked with raised eyebrows waiting for you to reply. “I really like this one, it’s my favourite so far.” you smiled taking another sip. After you tried every wine with seunghyun you were now slightly tipsy. “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come seunghyun.” You told your husband, he laughed at your drunken words. “Thank you sweetheart, i think you’ve had a bit too much wine.” His hand came to your face gently stroking it. “It’s your fault.” You pouted looking into his eyes, his eyes meet yours and he leaned in to press a peck on your nose.

A/N: HII THANK YOU SM FOR THE SUPPORT ON MY LAST POST❤

[summertimesadnessirl]

It's not smugness.

It's more like

My entire life, people have been fighting and fight a slow, griding war of attrition against a small, powerful group of people who want to have a government based on christofascism.

It's become really obvious that these people become more powerful over time.

It's become really obvious that they are not going to stop doing anything and everything to ensure that no one can get anything done except a slow slide into christofascism.

My whole life people tried to build movements and raise awareness and build outside forms to care for one another and business networks that supported each other and all the things.

And yet the best they could do was slow down the christofascism.

The thing is, we know what happens with authoritarian governments.

Especially the kind that involve a strong urge to purge undesirable, corrupt, weak, or outsider influences.

I'm not saying it's good.

I do keep yelling at everyone who will listen to leave the country and like buy guns and defend their homes with them. Set up as much as you can to protect yourself.

But what happens when governments like this that run on this type of fervor get control is that they keep purging and purging until they don't have anymore undesirables to purge and then they turn on one another.

Most fascist or totalitarian governments wind up doing this so completely that they practically destroy themselves without anyone else fighting them.

They take over and the competent people keep getting accused of stupid purgeworthy shit until it's all ideologically pure idiots and weasels who just agree with whatever anyone else tells them.

So on some level, I think

"Maybe if we get this over with, all these rich weird people will destroy one another."

The real problem is getting normal people out of the country so that can happen as fast as possible.

I see so many people feeling all smug at those "damn conservatives who will finally see the mistake they made!" And you know a while ago I would've agreed, but seeing it all now, I can't. I can't be happy, I can't be smug, there's nothing to celebrate.

People are gonna die, conservatives, democrats people who didn't vote...

People are gonna and ARE starving, losing jobs, get into poverty and god. I can't even feel like we have any gotcha. This is horrible.

I don't want people to die because they were never taught better, because they were uneducated and/or manipulated. And the thing is, I'm not even American, but I just know, everyday looking at the news, that things are getting bad, and they're getting bad for all of us. It hasn't reached me yet, but how long till it does?

To everyone who lives in America, I wish you luck and a strong will. Don't give up. And now more than ever you need to be united, don't let them tear you apart, because they will try. Though times ahead, but we will get over them.