#I really should know better than to post this but i needed to vent. vent what a stupid word.

[shellforbrains]

I know I'm very late in responding to this so sorry that this is way outta the blue. I've gotten increasingly worn out with the Helluva Boss fandom and haven't really wanted to talk about it much anymore. This Stolas analysis was basically the last real thing I wrote about Helluva before essentially just giving up on my yapping.

Honestly, I still don't want to talk about it much but I figured this did deserve a response because I do agree with you! You make a lot of great points here both in the post text and the tags!

While I myself was someone that unlearned the shit I was raised with essentially "on my own" with only the internet as my guide, I understand that I'm an outlier. And, before I started to make a turn around on my beliefs and behaviors, the internet first made them worse before making them "better" so to speak.

But like. Even if I was essentially "alone" in my reeducation of myself and my unlearning with not really asking anyone questions or shit, I still had people (online) that I looked up to and trusted whose opinions I listened to and learned from because, well, I cared about them and what they were saying. And a lot of what they were saying opened my eyes.

So even if I was an outlier in that I did all that shit "alone" (and because of what I personally went through I don't think it's impossible for someone else to do it "alone" too), I don't think that it would actually work for Stolas.

My point in saying that he has a smartphone and that Google/Gaggle is right there is more venting frustrations with how a lot of the fandom coddles him and believes that he is absolutely incapable of learning on his own and needs the idea that he's privileged (and how his behavior can hurt people) spoon fed to him like he's a toddler rather than a 30-something year old man.

And sure, Stolas definitely will need some help and guidance! As I said, even if I personally did most of my learning "alone" I still had people I looked up to that I was learning from (even if those people didn't exactly realize it lmao). I'm not saying that no one should help Stolas and guide him and be there to answer whatever silly "I'm privileged what do you mean you're oppressed" questions. I even said I absolutely anticipate Blitzø being someone like that for him eventually.

I just don't like the idea that because Stolas has no idea how the real world works because he was raised in his "gilded cage" that means that he's not still accountable for the harm he's caused or that he is helpless to learn anything without someone marginalized doing all the emotional labor to educate him completely. Even if, yeah, google/gaggle might lead him the wrong way if he tried to educate himself, he still is capable of trying.

Alongside something drastic happening to wake him up to reality, he still has to want to learn and want to try (which he absolutely will, this is Stolas we're talking about). It can't all be on someone else's shoulders.

I didn't articulate that well in my original post though and I can see how it definitely came off more like I was saying Stolas should just only use the internet rather than depending on/learning from anyone like Blitzø. And that's very much on me!

okay, strap in, here we go.

i think i & a lot of other people went into Apology Tour expecting Stolas to be at different point in his character development then he actually is. but that development is definitely still coming!

a deep dive into where Stolas currently is at character wise with insights from my own personal life experience.

in this deep dive into where he currently is, i want to use what i personally have experienced & witnessed in my own life as a guide. bc if i'm being honest, after i had time to mull it over, looking at Stolas in this episode was both like looking in a mirror & also like looking at some of my own family members who i have tried to correct on their own microaggresions in the past.

now i want to preface this by saying that i am white. i will not be speaking on this from the perspective of a POC. i am speaking on this from the perspective of someone who has had to go on a similar (but obvs not as extreme) journey that Stolas is on, and as someone who has seen people i love vehemently deny their problematic actions when i have tried to tell them how harmful they are & how hard it is to actually argue with them about it.

and i'd also like to add that i am not trying to shit on Stolas with this & say that Blitzø did nothing wrong in their arrangement ever or in Apology Tour. Blitzø is also on a character arc of his own & growing as a character.

both he AND Stolas continued to suck at communicating this episode, & it wasn't anyone's sole fault there. i'm focusing less on their conflict (though of course i will make reference to it) & more focusing on where Stolas currently is in his journey & how him acting the way he does in AT is... not far off from reality, honestly.

even if it's painful to watch at times, i do have to commend the writing there haha. bc it's pretty fuckin' spot on.

okay with all that out of the way, let's get our hands dirty:

the description of the episode itself confirms that Stolas is "still not quite being self-aware enough at times" & boy did they hit the nail on the head here lmao.

i think most people will agree that Stolas still has a LOT to learn about the race/class difference & the power imbalance between he & Blitzø, but even still, some were expecting better out of him in AT than what we got. myself included.

but let's look at FM from his perspective:

he's off his meds & obviously went into that night with a very black & white view of the possible outcomes: either Blitzø returns his feelings & they'll be dating by the end of the night, or he's been keeping Blitzø against his will & is a monster. no room for shades of grey.

and when Blitzø (understandably for multiple reasons) mistakes this basically out of nowhere declaration of feelings as a form of rp, Stolas (very understandably) gets his feelings hurt. he shuts down & stonewalls.

he doesn't see any shades of grey when Blitzø chases after him, says he needs a minute to think, makes reference to his feelings being played with, or the fact that, while aggressive, Blitzø was trying to talk things out with him. Stolas only hears the yelling and (again, understandably) gets triggered.

ALONG WITH, it seems, only hearing the "everything you've put me through, you rich, privileged asshole" comment & the "treat me like one of your butler imps" comment. which, if i'm being honest, i think ALSO really hurt his feelings, based on how he ends up acting the next day in AT.

here's where my personal experience comes in, so let's tldr my story real fast:

i was raised in a fairly privileged position & was basically brainwashed into far right ideology from a young age at the private school i attended. trust me, i went on a WILDASS journey to unlearn some of the craziest & most vile shit that had been hammered into my head since i was a little tiny child. it's a tough journey, too, that's filled with a lot of ups & downs.

part of what makes Stolas such a special character to me is seeing that journey reflected on screen with the good, the bad, & the ugly. which is also why i get very frustrated with fans that want to ignore the bad & the ugly parts of Stolas' character & journey.

bc, yes, while he is a fictional character, it is always important to hold oneself accountable. even though i am a completely changed person from who i was all those years ago, i know that even at 33 there are probably things i still need to unlearn that i just haven't stumbled upon to challenge me yet.

the journey that Stolas is on is not a single switch flip or a short, easy one. nor should it be treated as one. however, i think it's important to dive into these things and see where it's coming from, even if it shines light on the bad & the ugly in a way that some people may not like.

now with my personal experience in mind, & how Full Moon went from Stolas' perspective, let's finally address that painful exchange that happens the morning after Full Moon.

emotions are still high, neither of them has had time to really process, Stolas is still very deep in his own feefees, and those feefees are HURT.

Blitzø, in his mind, has rejected a relationship with him. as well as accused him of being a racist/classist, something that Stolas does NOT see himself as. and, like ANY privileged person mostly oblivious to their own behavior, he gets his feefees hurt over this as well as getting very defensive about it.

while the bar is quite literally in hell, Stolas DOES treat imps... better than other Goetia. that doesn't mean he treats them WELL, bc he DOESN'T, but to Stolas himself, he sees other goetia carry imps around in purses like animals or throw them around like objects like Stella did. in his mind, he's treating imps very well! so he must think, "so why would Blitzø or that Stiker guy even say anything like that?! that's ridiculous & hurtful!"

enter stage left Blitzø, who starts off with his typical sexy talk which then turns into needling/arguing. (once again, oof. they both continue to suck at communicating this ep so hard.)

and when this exchange happens, it is... it is so quintessential oblivious privileged person getting defensive.

"i'm not racist/classist! when have i EVER done something like that? you talk just like those people that hate all white/rich people!"

i have literally heard basically those exact words, and ones similar to what Stolas says later, from family that i have tried to point out microaggresions to before.

microaggresions are called microaggresions for a reason & are obviously not considered the same as the more outwardly hateful shit for a reason. they are harder for people to realize that they are doing/participating in and therefore very easy to get their feefees hurt over & defensive about.

bc the ppl committing microaggresions hear the big, ""scary"" words like "racism" or "classism" & think of the most extreme examples, not the ""mundane"" shit that THEY do. so if someone says they're being racist/classist, they think they're being accused of the extreme shit & think people are being absolutely ridiculous.

bc OBVIOUSLY Stolas isn't carrying an imp around in a purse or yeeting them like Stella does so what's the big deal, right? /s

moving forward in their exchange, we come to these lines. and here's where, if i haven't ruffled feathers already, i'm probably going to ruffle them now.

by saying this, Stolas DOES make a point but also... DOESN'T at the same time, ending up only reinforcing his own ignorance & lack of self-awareness. but before anyone starts furiously typing to me, let me explain.

Blitzø DOES need to hear this to begin to understand how Stolas has been making attempts & does care in his own way, just like how Blitzø also needed to hear what Fizz said in Oops for the same reason.

HOWEVER, just like how Fizz said what he said in Oops without full context of the arrangement that Blitzø & Stolas had, Stolas says what he says here without the full context of his actions & how they actually read to Blitzø, especially in the context of the deal they had.

he is genuine about his attempt to make Blitzø understand he cares, but just like before, this is ALSO quintessential privileged person being defensive.

"if i were racist/classist why would i want to date a POC/a poor person? if i were racist/classist why would i want to be seen with a POC/a poor person? if i were racist/classist why would i want to spend time with a POC/a poor person or support them?"

yes, Stolas cares about Blitzø. but this is called being seen as an Exception or One Of The Good Ones. Stolas doesn't look down on Blitzø as much as he does other imps, but that doesn't make Blitzø feel any better. and even still, while Blitzø is the Exception, it still doesn't mean that he isn't still looked down on or been the victim of microaggresions from Stolas.

and honestly, some of the talk i've seen these past few days around the fandom regarding this has been... very fucking exhausting.

yes, i more than anyone understand that Stolas is not self-aware enough to fully realize his own behaviors yet. but everyone seems to be putting this entirely on Blitzø's shoulders to fix & educate Stolas on this despite the fact that Blitzø is also hurting & neck deep in his emotions as well.

Stolas gets a pass for being ignorant & uneducated & neck deep in his feelings but Blitzø is apparently supposed to be able to articulate perfectly to Stolas every microaggresion he's suffered & be able to sit him down & give him a lecture on Hell's Racism & Classism.

just like how it is not the job of POC to educate white people, or any other underprivileged group to educate a privileged one, it is NOT entirely on Blitzø's shoulders to educate Stolas.

Stolas is approx. 36 years old & has a smartphone. Google (or i guess it's gaggle in hell) exists & Stolas shows later on in AT that he DOES indeed have tiny blips of self-awareness, little nagging feelings that he's missing something.

yes, it would definitely HELP to have Blitzø explain his own perspective to Stolas, as i'm sure Stolas would be willing to listen if Blitzø can find a way to properly elaborate. and i do think Blitzø WILL at some point in the future do that!

BUT. confronting or educating loved ones is SO much harder than anyone else. i think part of the reason WHY Blitzø has a hard time saying specifics to Stolas (besides his own self-hatred & communication issues) is BECAUSE he cares about him so much.

it was not easy at ALL for me to try to confront loved ones in my life about their behavior, & being met with the defensive reactions only made it more painful on top of that. it is not uncommon at all for ppl to let a privileged loved one get away with things that they would NEVER let someone else get away with.

this leads into where i basically want to say... if you're having any worry or doubts about Stolas' character arc right now, don't worry. we've gotten some pretty clear signs from AT that there's still plenty to be addressed on Stolas' side & that it WILL be coming.

he simply is just not as far along in the journey as some of us thought he was, & that's okay. he'll get there, even if it is painful right now.

personally, my biggest theory on HOW he'll get there is the whole "Stolas is stripped of his title & everything he owns" theory that's been circulating around the fandom. something that drastic happening to him, leaving him with nothing, & forcing him to see what Hell is actually like for the lower class outside of his gilded cage would be one hell of a wake up call for him.

but even if that theory isn't correct, i still believe that it will not just be solely Blitzø or others around him showing Stolas the error of his ways.

i am of the opinion that something drastic will happen that will also help shift his view much more into focus & make him even more receptive to what he's being told about the racism & classism of Hell.

bc oftentimes, it DOES take something drastic in a journey like this one to actually light a fire under one's ass. what that will be for Stolas...? well, i guess we'll just have to wait & see!

[natsmagi]

honestly the more i hear about engstars and its TLs the more i absolutely dread the inevitable release of poltergeist and what may ensue from it, bc if if the translators themselves are already invalidating arashis identity then i Really Truly do not want to see how theyll translate natsume and tsumugis microaggressions/transphobia towards her. esp since ive noticed a rise in people being comfortably transphobic towards her, and i REALLY do not wish to see natsume and tsumugi being stupid fucking morons be used as evidence to discredit her

and i think this is all the more reason why its VERY IMPORTANT for engstars to DIRECTLY ACKNOWLEDGE arashi and her gender. bc sometimes characters are STUPID and RUDE and APATHETIC. enstars is a story with NUANCED and FLAWED CHARACTERS, and when a character is being a fucking asshole youre meant to PROVE THEM WRONG. but they dont even acknowledge arashi as a girl themselves. so, if you do use engstars, please keep pressuring them bc omfg this is so bad and i can only see it getting worse

[zebratimw]

Spirit animal SQH

[an-theduckin]

Wait shit people might actually care about me

[micamicster]

it only took 12 interviews i guess for somebody to bring up 9/11 to me

[culmaer-sideblog]

please forgive me, but I need to complain and over-share or my brain is going to explode please feel free to ignore

[actual-corpse]

Someone on YT really just asked how I, a person in 2024, have a phone and access to wifi even though I can't afford food most days...

I know it sounds fucked up but like...

A PHONE IS MORE AFFORDABLE THAN A FUCKING HOUSE SANDRA! You can get them at Walmart for $50! Or... OR... It's a pretty old phone that runs like shit that the person got back when they had the money to spare.

I know it's very difficult to comprehend... I mean, it's very hard to perceive that other people exist, and they definitely aren't living the magical Barbie Dream House life that YOU get to live, but... Whatever. It's like yelling at a wall with privileged people.

[gaythreadrunner]

so you're taking care of your computer's software health. NICE! but what about its physical health?

because yes, computers do need the occasional real-world checkup to make sure that they're running well. but what exactly does that entail? i see many posts about maintaining software health: limit your browser tabs, ensure your antiviruses are working properly, so on and so forth, but checking the physical components is something i sparsely see discussed here.

so what's the deal with physical maintenance? well, have you ever had your computer hack and wheeze trying to keep up even if your OS and all your drivers are up to date and functioning? if you've never opened up your computer before, you may be shocked to find just how FILTHY it can get in there:

take a closer look at that snout dust! PTOOEY .. BLECKH

computers are much more likely to accumulate internal dust if they're sitting on the floor, and especially if they're near any vents and/or if you have pets.

ok, you've figured out how to open your device and now you're staring at the second coming of the dust bowl in your gaming rig. what now? let's explore some basic cleaning tips, deep cleaning pointers for your CPU/GPU, and tips to help keep maintain your computer's physical health in the future.

first of all, turn off your computer and unplug it (for my computer, i turn it off, turn off the PSU switch, unplug it, and then press the power button for about 30 seconds to drain the capacitors and minimize static risk)

generally, you're gonna want to have THESE items:

some sort of face mask (dust masks are best, but anything that'll help keep the harmful dust out of your lungs will generally work)

a can of compressed air (or an electric duster if you're ~fancy~. they look and function like turbo blowdryers)

a vacuum will be useful if there's a LOT of dust, best to use in combination with an anti-static cleaning kit

if you ARE gonna use a vacuum, spray every attachment you use with an anti-static spray. disturbing large amounts of dust creates a lot of static, and electronics are very sensitive to that.

it's never a bad idea to grab an grounding wristband as well, but as long as you wear loose clothes and always keep some part of your skin in contact with the case, you should be ok. (i don't know how much this applies to laptops and smaller devices, since the cases for those are typically plastic)

if there's staining (like from smoke) or there's more gunk caked on than you thought, you can gently clean electronic components with a brush/paper towel/microfiber and medical-grade isopropyl alcohol ONLY. do not use any other cleaning alcohols for this task.

before you do anything, TAKE THAT FUCKER OUTSIDE! always clean a dusty device where the wind can carry that shit away, because oh my GOD will it fuck up your lungs like crazy. (that, and compressed air cans have fluorocarbons in them, which isn't great to breathe in either)

most of the time, you'll probably be fine just using an air duster. for compressed air cans, spray the dirty surfaces in short bursts. an electric duster can be constantly blown. when dusting fans, make sure that you're holding the blades still as to not accidentally make them spin too fast (ESPECIALLY with an electric duster!), since that can damage the mechanism that makes them spin.

however, if there's a lot of dust, it may be better to give it a vacuuming first. anything from a handheld to a shop vac will work, and attachments with brushes on the end will help tons with loosening up even more dust. and of course ALWAYS make sure that you're spraying any attachments with anti-static spray, and keep a hand on the case of the computer to electrically ground yourself since the hose will be in contact with the internals.

if there's any left over, give it a blast with the duster.

in some rare cases, there may be some extra gunk caked onto the internals, and you may have to really get your hands in there or take components out individually. if you don't have an anti static wristband (the ones with an alligator clip) do your best to ALWAYS keep your skin in contact with the case as you're finagling around in there.

it's probably a good idea to have disposable gloves on for this. grab your isopropyl and towel of choice (microfiber is ideal, but dirtier PCs may need disposable paper/shop towels), soak it a little bit, and gently scrub off the gunk n' grime as needed.

with heat sinks specifically, since they're just big blocks of metal, they're the one part of a component that can be cleaned under water. if a dusting doesn't suffice, gently scrub it with a brush under warm, soapy water, rinse thoroughly, and let it dry on a towel for a few hours before reassembling it into the electronic components.

if there's still little bits stuck in the radiator fins, stick an isopropyl-soaked q-tip in there to push it out.

the dust settles, everything's put back together, and it's all clean in there again. YAY!!!!! but what if you're still experiencing temperature problems? well, it typically comes down to either the CPU or GPU:

IF ITS THE CPU: if you took off the cooler to clean it, then i hope you remembered to dab some fresh thermal paste on there. you should be replacing thermal paste few years, otherwise it dries out and loses its effectiveness.

the type you use makes a huge difference too; i like to use arctic's mx-4, it has excellent thermal conductivity while still being an electrical insulator, so spillover isn't a problem. if you go for a liquid metal compound, please do your research first, since some of them can run the risk of corroding the cooler pipes and/or the CPU's outer casing.

to replace thermal paste, make sure that the crusty old paste is sufficiently scrubbed off the contact points of both the CPU and cooler. again, use isopropyl for this. once it's all cleaned off, put about a pea-sized amount of paste on the CPU and carefully lower the cooler onto the mounting bracket before fastening it in place. (also it really doesn't matter how you put the paste on, as long as it ends up covering most of the contact area)

also if you're still using the cooler your CPU came with, you should probably get a better cooler. especially if you're doing gaming or using graphically/mathematically intensive software. sorry. the stock coolers that most CPUs come with are mid as hell. you can get a nice ARGB one for less than 20 USD i promise its worth it

IF ITS THE GPU: like CPUs, your graphics card also needs to have its thermal paste cleaned out and replaced every so often. but they also utilize a second thermal material called thermal pads. these are usually made of either silica gel or a very thick clay-like grease, and come in different thicknesses. my favoured pads are owltree's 12.8w grease pads, the assorted pack comes with enough for about 4-5 GPUs.

taking apart a GPU seems scary, and understandably so; they're incredibly expensive and hard-working pieces of technology! but i've done it twice now, and it's actually surprisingly simple (as long as you keep track of all the damn screws... im lucky there's a magnetized screw mat in the house i can use)

i recommend watching a deep clean/teardown video of the GPU model you have before digging into it yourself. generally, they separate into 4 distinct portions: the outer shell, the heatsink, the board, and the backplate.

the shell contains the fans and any possible RGB elements. it'll have 1-2 controllers plugged into the board, one for the fans and one for the lighting elements if there are any. once the case is unscrewed, unplug these connectors with a firm squeeze and tug.

these tend to be surprisingly dusty on the inside, so it's probably a good idea to blast it with a duster. again, make sure to hold the fans so they don't overspin. you can also remove the fans from the shell and clean them individually if you'd like.

the heatsink is BIG and heavy, and you can do all the same stuff here that you would with a CPU cooler heatsink. it may take a bit of effort to tug off if the thermal materials are really making it stick to the board. once it's off, scrub the old thermal paste, blast it with a duster, and wash under soapy water if needed before rinsing thoroughly and leaving it to dry for a while.

the backplate is just a flat piece of metal that protects the back side of the board. usually all this will need is a simple wipedown.

the board is where all the magic happens, and will usually have a layout that's something like this:

clean up as needed; gently scrub off old thermal paste, scrape off the old thermal pads (but take close note of how thick they are so you can replace them with the correct pads), and brush/wipe down the dust and grease on each side as needed. take care to avoid touching the PCIe connector too much (the bar of golden pins that juts out from the bottom)

thermal padding varies from card to card (i recommend checking thermal pad placements for your gpu in water cooling guides, even if you're not doing water cooling) but it's typically gonna be on THESE spots:

the VRAM chips surrounding the die (main chip) along with the small black chips next to the capacitors will require thermal pads the most. cut each one to size, carefully peel off the plastic films, and press each piece onto the chips.

now you can grab your thermal paste and put some on that big shiny die. now take your freshly pasted/padded board and CAREFULLY lower it back onto the heatsink. i highly suggest having a good source of lightning for this, since shifting around the pieces too much trying to get them to align properly can displace the thermal pads and mess with how the paste spreads.

screw the heatsink tight to the board, and double check to make sure that the pads and paste are snug against the heat sink. now put the backplate and shell back on and BAM YOU'RE DONE! with the paste and pads i used, i was able to bring down the temperature of my cards by a good 10-15 °C.

ok you've done all this deep cleaning shit and your computer is happy and healthy. what can you do for your computer's health in the future?

DUST AT LEAST ONCE A YEAR. haul that thang outside and spray that shit out to stop it from building up for too long.

KEEP IT OFF THE FLOOR. if you can, of course, not everyone has the desk room for it. computers accumulate dust easier when they're close to the floor. if you do need to keep it on the floor, you might have to dust it every 6-8 months rather than once a year.

AND STOP PUTTING YOUR LAPTOPS ON SOFT SURFACES I SWEAR TO GOD

GET A FAN CONTROLLER. motherboards are DOGSHIT at maintaining fan speeds!!!! there are physical fan hubs that use controller software, but if you can't afford that, fancontrol by rem0o is a stellar software-only option.

IF YOU DON'T ALREADY HAVE CASE FANS, GET THEM. the number of fans depends on the motherboard form factor your case can accommodate (ATX cases typically have 6-8), but having that air circulation is very important to maintaining ideal temperatures. arctic makes fantastic budget-friendly fans.

IF YOU HAVE AN NVMe HARD DRIVE: please put an aluminum heat sink on that thang. they get toasty :(

OK THATS IT I THINK. if anyone else has tips they wanna add, go right on ahead. ok thank you bye your computer will love you

[kaijuposting]

"Saw traps for people with moral OCD" is a phrase that has embedded myself into my brain because, well, Saw traps for people with moral OCD are everywhere.

Stuff that basically amounts to...

"You have to listen to my opinions on [issue], or else you don't care about [issue]. (Constantly talks about how people like you are the absolute worst.)"

Anything that's functionally like, "you have to let me tear you down over things you can't control or you're a bad person."

Anything that's functionally like, "you have to let me vent to you whenever and however I want or else you're a bad person."

"If you enjoy X media/trope, you just hate Y people."

"Everyone knows that X thing is harmful/hateful; if you engaged in it, it's just because you were fine with perpetuating hate/harm."

"You should have just known better/should know this already!"

This thread over here talks about the inherent issues of putting this kind of stuff out there. The TL;DR is that it really only works on people who are mentally unwell and have poor boundaries, while just pissing off everyone else. It really doesn't matter if you're technically correct; you're still attacking people, and that means they're not wrong to block you.

I think that many of these Saw traps are created when people effectively write posts directed toward people who don't want to help, rather than the ones who do. Like, if you catch yourself writing an angry, shame-laden post, ask yourself: who are you writing it for and what are the odds you're going to change their minds? If your mental image is some smug fuck or angry reactionary, you're writing for the wrong person. Write for the person who's curious, who's willing to learn.

Also? Work on figuring out how to transmute negative feelings into positive, encouraging rhetoric. EG:

"Why is there no X positivity?" -> "Let's hear it for X!"

"No one cares about Y problem!" -> "Hey, we need more recognition of Y problem" or "I haven't seen many people talking about Y problem, so here's some info on what's up."

"If you don't reblog this, you don't care about [group]" -> "Please reblog this, it would mean a lot for us [group]."

And if you're really super duper frustrated and want to vent with a lot of nasty words and sentiments? Consider taking it to a private vent channel or a journal or somewhere that a stranger with moral OCD/scrupulosity isn't likely to run across it.

Remember, most people don't want to hurt anyone. More people are ignorant than malicious. People naturally want to do the right thing, so if you feel like you have to guilt them or shame them into it, there's probably a fundamental communication issue somewhere, or they simply lack the context to understand why what you're saying is so important.

[7ndipity]

“Are You Confident?”

fwb!Jungkook x Plus Size Reader

Summary: The one where you get fed up with Jungkook’s teasing and decide to take him up on his offer.

Word Count: just under 1.7k

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut. oral(m. receiving), swearing, Jk starts out fuckboy-ish but turns subby, slight dom reader, reader’s referred to as Noona, not proofread

A/N: This idea has been sitting in my drafts since early December, but I finally managed to finish part one! This is sort of a prequel to this drabble, so if you can read it too if you liked this one. I’ll also be posting part two and a masterlist(hopefully)later this week, so lmk what you think!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

If you had to choose a favorite place in the whole world, you would choose Jungkook’s apartment without a thought. Not your own apartment, not you favorite shop, not even the dream vacation you’d been planning and saving up for forever, just being tucked into the corner of Jungkook’s couch, Bam curled up next to you, his massive head resting in your lap, subtly begging for pets as you vented to his owner about your most recent dating fiasco.

The guy one of your friends had set you up with had seemed nice enough at first, but as dinner progressed, things had progressively gone downhill.

“Did he least pay for dinner?” Jungkook asked, sprawled on the opposite end of the couch.

“I’d assume so, I walked out before the bill even came.” You replied, taking a long drink from your glass.

“Why do you even bother with dating anyway? You said before you hated it.” He asked.

“I’ve told you, I’m… lonely.” You said pointedly, avoiding his eyes.

He squinted at you, understanding suddenly flashing across his face.

“Ah, so you just need to get laid?” He asked, sitting back with a smirk as your face flushed with color. “Why didn’t you just say so? I could help you with that.”

“Ugh, shut up.” You groaned, getting up and heading to the kitchen.

“I’m serious.” He said, following you. “It’s better than fucking some random asshole.”

This type of conversation was a recurring thing in your friendship. Jungkook loved to tease you, and with a relationship that had grown as close as yours had, he had plenty of opportunities.

Your friends often joked that the two of you should just date already with the way you acted with each other, often toeing the line between what was typically considered okay for ‘just friends’. You’d slept in the same bed more times than you could count(a fact that had made Taehyung nearly choke on his drink when he’d found out), you’d even kissed at his friend's New Years Eve party after a few too many drinks and a similar conversation to the one you were currently having, lamenting about not having someone to kiss at midnight.

You didn’t know what had possessed you to do it, all you could remember was hearing the countdown and leaning in, connecting your lips with his for the briefest moment, only for him to quickly chase after yours when you had started to pull away.

Neither of you had brought it up afterwards, but the memory of it was permanently seared into your mind; the feel of his lips moving against yours, the way his hands had gently gripped your waist-

You shook your head, redirecting your attention back to the current moment, trying to ignore Jungkook as he leaned against the counter next to you.

“Look, if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine, I’m just offering a possible solution to your problem,” He said, shrugging as he grinned at you. “You know, if you’re really desperate.”

You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. When's the last time you even went on a date again?”

Your words had the desired effect on him, turning his expression sour.

“That’s different, I’ve been… busy.” He said grudgingly.

“Uh-huh, sure.” You grinned triumphantly.

“I mean it though,” He said. “If that’s really all you’re after, I’d be glad to help.”

You blinked at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” He shrugged. “I mean, like you said, it’s not like I've got anything going either. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, just two friends helping each other out.”

“That is, if you think you can handle me.” He added with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, letting out an irritated laugh. “Please, I could handle you.”

“Are you confident?” He asked, quirking a brow at you.

“Yes.” You answered immediately, catching both him and yourself off guard as you stared him down.

Your words weren’t entirely true, you weren’t all that confident when it came to things like this, but Jungkook had a way of triggering your stubborn streak, whether it was with that cocky smile he always threw your way or the domineering tone he like to tease you with, something about him made you suddenly brave and willing to challenge anything he said.

Normally, that was part of what made your friendship fun, the two of you constantly bickering and at odds with each other, but this was much different than arguing over where to get dinner or what to watch on tv.

You were chest to chest now, able to feel his heart pounding surprisingly fast as he stared down at you.

“Prove it.” He said, his tone having lost its teasing edge as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your mouth.

That was all it took to make you break.

You closed the gap between the two of you, pushing him back against the wall as your lips clashed.

This wasn’t at all like the first time you’d kissed, there was no hesitancy or tender playfulness, it was hot and rushed and needy, full of tongue and teeth.

You were aware of a voice in the back of your head frantically screaming at you, something about how this was terrible idea and could ruin things between you and Jungkook completely, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care as his warm hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue fought with yours for dominance. He tasted sharp and sweet like the wine you had brought, his skin hot under your fingertips as your hands slipped from his shoulders to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly at the strands and earning a low grunt from him.

His grip on your hips tightened before sliding down to grope your ass, grinding you against the growing bulge in his pants.

A surprised squeak left you, making him chuckle against your lips as you mentally cursed yourself. You were not about to let him have the upper hand, not this quickly.

You slipped a hand down between you to palm him over his pants, squeezing just enough to cause what sounded very much like a moan to you to release from his throat, though you knew he’d tried to deny it.

Just as suddenly as you’d begun, you pulled away, making his eyes snap open in confusion.

“What are you-?” He panted, stopping in shock as you dropped to your knees in front of him.

“I’m helping you out.” You said simply, undoing his belt as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Is that okay?”

He nodded, breathing unsteadily.

“I need words, Sweetie.” You said, making him flush at the petname as you fiddled with his zipper. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

“I want it,” He quickly blurted, giving up control with surprising ease as he stared down at you, eyes black with need. “I-I want your mouth, please.”

“Good boy.” You tugged his jeans down, revealing the prominent tent in his boxers, a small wet patch on the material showing just how eager he was.

“These are cute.” You commented, toying with the waistband before letting it snap back against his skin, making him jump slightly. “Purple looks good on you.”

“Noona, please.” He whined in frustration, his head falling back against the wall as his hips twitched forward involuntarily.

“Fine, since you’re asking so politely.” You pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free, hanging heavy in front of your face.

He was slightly bigger than you expected, the tip flushed deep red and leaking precum as you took him in your hand, making him shudder.

“Mm, should’ve known, even your cock’s pretty.” You mused, leaning in to give it a cursory lick, sucking the tip into your mouth for a moment before pulling back, leaving a few kisses along the underside of his length as you glanced up at him to gauge his reaction.

He was staring down at you slack-jawed, his breaths coming out in uneven pants as you pumped him with your hand.

He already looked slightly fucked out and you’d barely done anything to him yet, giving you a massive surge of confidence as you held eye contact with him, gathering as much spit as you could in your mouth before letting it dribble down over his twitching length.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, squiming slightly.

Still holding his gaze, you took him fully into your mouth, sinking down as far as you could go.

“Fuck!” He gasped, his head falling back against the wall with a thump as you pulled back, swirling your tongue around him teasingly before sinking down again, letting him hit the back of your throat and holding him there for a moment before pulling off.

You quickly found your rhythm, bobbing your head up and down on him and using your hands on what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

He let out a low whine, fists clenched so tight against his thighs his knuckles had gone white.

Noticing this, you used your free hand to guide his to your head, letting him tangle his fingers in your hair and giving him something to ground himself with.

All too soon, you felt him beginning to tense, his grip on your head tightening as his thighs started to shake.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” He whimpered. “Where do you want me to-?”

You only answer to him taking him and deeper and swallowing around him, making him cry out as his hip bucked forward, fucking your face as he chased his release.

“Shit, Y/n, I-” His words were choked off with a groan as he came, cumming down your throat in hot spurts.

He slumped back against the wall, breathing hard as you slowly pulled off of him, making a point to meet his eyes again as you swallowed.

“Shit, Y/n,” He said weakly as you stood back up. “That was-”

You cut him off with another kiss, feeling him twitch against your leg as he tasted himself on your tongue.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @ldysmfrst

[callooopie]

Modern!au Davos who's hooking up with one of his friends from their big friend group but they have to keep it a secret

Situation Situationship // Modern!Davos

I don’t want your body. But I hate to think about you with somebody else — Somebody Else // The 1975

chat I think I went too sad and not funny with this

What Davos offers you is a beneficial relation between you two. A humble friend’s with benefits scenario, a situationship if you will. An agreement between two friends born out of boredom and driven by the need to just fuck things out. This would have to not affect your friendship, with both of you sharing a friend group; the possible chaos of a relationship between you two would be too much. Rules were then set out: no pda, no posting, no exclusivity.

Plus you were already sorta talking to someone and he was a guy who didn’t like being tied down. And both of you knew that a breakup between you two would make the friend group weird. So Davos couldn’t really complain when you would talk about your other dates or some other guy. He bit his tongue as he let you vent about what went wrong, or what could’ve been better. Oh, that guy didn’t pay? Damn, you should always pay for the pretty girls. This was his grave, and he would lie in it.

Despite this being his idea, Davos really hates it actually. Which is a little funny. The thing that he insisted would not happen, happened to him. It’s a little hard not to fall in love, or not to become attached to you when you’re the only one who seems to understand him. In the daylight when you’re hanging out with the group, when your eyes don’t leave him as he talks, when you text him throughout the day about anything and everything. Your closest friend—Davos. Even worse when it grows into night and he’s in your bed or you’re in his. He does want to tell you to stop doing aftercare so good; the way you caress his face and card your fingers through his hair makes him feel too many things better left unsaid. He refrains from saying anything.

And maybe he thinks the no PDA rule is stupid too. He sees how his friends touch and hold their girls, his own fingers twitching by his side as he watches the displays. He wonders if you think about it too. If you think about the feel of his hand in yours, how different it could be in the daytime. How your held hands could swing back and forth as you walk along a path. Maybe he would pull you into a store that catches his eye, or down an alley to press you against the wall. He wonders if you like it when he holds your hand at night. Do you like it when his fingers press open your closed palm, interlacing his fingers with yours? He always thinks about how your hand is smaller than his. He knows it makes you shiver, his fingertips trailing down your back; he hopes his calloused hands feel gentle against your soft body, maybe just as soft as his kisses. He likes when you sit in his lap, because then he can look into your eyes as his hands slowly run down your spine. No matter the reason however, Davos knows his hand wouldn’t leave yours. Day or night, rain or shine. If the rule did not exist.

Secretly he either blocks your social media accounts or simply deletes the apps off his phone. He wasn’t a big user on those anyways, and to see you post about dates or what you’re wearing to them drives him up a wall. Davos doesn’t wanna think about it but he does; he lets his mind wander to what you would wear to a date with him. Would you like something more formal? A nice restaurant? Or maybe a laidback affair, a movie at his place where you could snack and hide under the blankets. He would offer you his hoodie, would you take it? You already wear his clothes when you’re around anyways, rifling through his closet like a little animal in search of the softest fabrics to wear after you two finish. Sometimes when you’re looking with your back turned to Davos, he’ll stare at you as you pick up shirts or toss them aside. He’ll say he’s attracted to your body, the way it curves or shifts with each singular step or movement. But Davos also knows different; he’s staring past the skin, past your intricate body, and looking—hoping—for you to turn back to meet his gaze. You never leave with them, no. You always give them back before you leave.

He wonders if you’ll think him pathetic or weird, if he begs you to stay. Davos isn’t sure what’s come over him this early morning. It’s your usual routine; you both get up, he makes coffee, you get dressed to leave. Davos knows he’ll throw up if he so much as takes a sip of the warm coffee, feeling too tense and anxious about what he could do—what he wants to do. You’re oblivious maybe, or you’re just ignoring how strange he’s acting today. His thoughts are racing: Don’t look at your phone, keep your eyes on him. Don’t turn away from him, don’t step toward the door. Don’t, don’t, don’t. Davos can’t believe it himself that he’s reached you before you’re even out the door. His breathing heavy as his hand remains wrapped around your wrist. His stomach does somersaults as you look back at him. Davos swallows thickly, he’s this deep in already, might as well keep going.

Whatever the outcome of his stupidity this morning; he hopes you’ll be at least somewhat kind in letting him down as he spills his heart out to you…

[anghraine]

There's this weird genre of post I've periodically seen that's like "It bothers me that autistic people come onto this site and vent about the pressure to accommodate mainstream social norms that seem unnatural to them, and these people just don't seem to get that mainstream social norms serve a function that makes them right and good, so 'help' consisting of pressuring autistic people into unnatural 24/7 performance is actually great. Really, autistic people need to meet the allistics halfway and accommodate us as well!"

Obviously, these posts aren't phrased this way—the style is usually more patronizingly helpful with a hint of chiding autistic strangers for venting on their own blogs about one of the most basic diagnostic criteria of autism. But the thing that always strikes me about these "helpful" explanations is how incredibly sheltered they seem.

I can't speak for all autistic people. But a lot of treatment for autism has historically been rooted in teaching autistic people to mimic "normal" behavior as much as possible. Success has often been understood less in terms of the strain of this mimicry on autistic people or how viscerally unpleasant it is for an autistic person to perform this way, and more in terms of the comfort of people around us. The less perceptible our symptoms are to other people, the greater the perception of success in most cases, although research increasingly suggests that "social camouflaging" is actively harmful to autistic people no matter how good we seem at it.

Yes, there's a reason for social norms. I know. Many of us know. We have been incessantly told this our entire lives and live under extreme pressure to adapt to the allistic world. We are under vastly more pressure to accommodate the social norms of our communities than most allistic people seem to even remotely grasp. All this "don't label yourself, it's all just a social construction" and "you're high-functioning, though, so-" and "WELL ACTUALLY it is morally incumbent on you to imitate our social norms" only makes this absolute abyss of ignorance seem all the deeper. It feels rather like Protestant proselytizers in the USA who walk up and are like "have you heard about Jesus?!" as if it is remotely possible to live in this country without hearing about Jesus.

Secondly, the idea that the weight of accommodating these different experiences should rest equally on allistic and autistic people is actually pretty grotesque—yes, even if you're talking about autistic people without specifically intellectual disabilities. Where is all this endless understanding and patience for the allistic world we're expected to develop when it comes to accommodating us? Usually completely absent, and even when we do receive some degree of empathy, it still seems incredibly unequal to the demand on us.

But even if that were not the case, the idea that ethically, the people with, you know, autism are under some moral onus to equally accommodate allistic people (especially allistic people who do not have any similar disabilities themselves, which is most of them!) is absurd. Most allistic people are more able to adapt to changing circumstances than autistic people and experience less strain from doing it, they are better and faster at correctly interpreting social situations and emotional cues, and social performance is easier and more natural for them, and they overwhelmingly outnumber autistic people. The logic here just seems absurd.

And thirdly this scary danger of "high functioning" autistic people not trying to accommodate the norms and comfort of allistic people on some broad scale is not happening. Here's one fairly clear discussion that isn't paywalled:

In fact, high-functioning ASD individuals were reported to be more aware of their communication difficulties and were more likely make considerable efforts to adjust their behavior to conventional rules of non-autistic individuals, learning to imitate other non-ASD individuals. Moreover, females reported a higher frequency of camouflaging strategies, suggesting a role of camouflaging in the gender gap of the ASD diagnosis. Although camouflaging strategies can sometimes grant a better level of adjustment, even resulting in a hyper-adaptive behavior, they are also often correlated with negative mental health consequences due to the long-term stress associated with continuous attempts to adapt in day-to-day life.

Seriously, the world being just too easy on autistic people and letting them actually show signs of being autistic (God forbid) without sufficient chiding is not a thing. It's not real in any significant large-scale way; the exact reverse is vastly more common. Annoying autistic people on Tumblr dot com are not a social problem.

[starry-bi-sky]

miscellaneous danyal al ghul things

specifically about the danyal al ghul from my post/prompt here and i wanna get my misc. headcanons/thoughts on him (especially in his early stay with the fentons) out here before i make any other danyal al ghul aus

list under the cut because whoops this got longer than i expected. which really i should have expected

the Fentons are unaffiliated with the League, which was perfect for Danny faking his death.

he struggles with empathy. Empathy was not taught nor encouraged while he was with the League, so it's a skill that's been pretty stunted. At 15 he's better at empathizing with people, but he still struggles with it. He's pretty bad at reassuring/comforting people and usually acts as an emotional rubber duck for Sam and Tucker to vent to if need be. He sometimes offers blunt and sometimes mean opinions, especially if its about another person.

Sam and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin, they are however, pretty positive that he used to be part of an eco-fascist cult with a focus on martial arts?? They've been helping him tone down some of his more,,, extreme views on humanity ever since they caught wind of his more extreme ideologies.

He and Sam are still avid environmentalists and feed into each other quite a bit. They spend plenty of time at protests and pestering the school into more eco-friendly options.

Dash is not dead on the sole fact that Danny knew he had to lay low in Amity Park and killing someone was not, in fact, 'laying low'.

he did, however, traumatize him when Dash first tried to bully him. Safe to say, Danny is not bullied at school and neither are Sam and Tucker.

Danny didn't make any friends in his first year at Amity Park. He was surly, grumpy, standoffish, more stubborn than Sam, and pretty self-important about himself. Jazz was trying to teach him against these things, but she is a 12 year old unaffiliated with the League. Danny did not respect her nor listen to a word she said. It wasn't until like, year two that he finally started paying to mind what she was saying and slowly started to improve on himself

Sam approached him first, he rebuffed her quite harshly, and then Danny approached her sometime afterward when he overheard her talking about environmental rights. Sam completely ignored him though when he agreed with her, and Danny had to later learn that he needed to apologize for being rude to her when they first met. He did so eventually, and they started to talk more with Tucker and Sam.

Danny's a bit more reserved than he is in canon, although he steadily learns how to act as a regular teenager when he's out in public. He's a bit more friendlier at least, although when he's around Sam and Tucker he drops the act. He still has a somewhat formal way of talking, it's just become more casual after a lot of ribbing from Sam and Tucker. When he's angry or annoyed he starts talking poshly though.

His humor is relatively the same as in canon, if somehow dryer and more insulting at some points

Those rare moments where he gets really pissed usually ends up with him insulting someone in arabic or any of the other languages he picked up from the league. He is the go-to for Tucker's Spanish homework. (Tucker makes that mistake and learns that Danny is a very strict teacher)

while Danny doesn't view the Fentons as his parents, even five years after living with them, he does respect them to some amount. He respects them enough at least that when Vlad Masters comes sniffing around, he is suitably offended on both Maddie and Jack's behalf. And when he finds out Vlad was the one who tried to kill Jack and tried to tell him to renounce him as his father/parental guardian, danny threw a suitably sharp object at him and insulted him quite horrendously

Vlad still wants him as his kid. In fact perhaps even moreso after this.

Danny trains with Maddie to keep up with his training. It's not quite the same but it prevents him from getting completely rusty

Sam and Tucker know that Danny has a little brother, but nothing else beyond that other than Danny cares about him quite a lot and that he got his facial scar from keeping him safe.

Danny cares about Sam, Tucker, and Jazz quite a bit, but he struggles to convey it. Especially early on when he realized he cared about them and like instinct started being harsher to them and more critical of their actions. This resulted in quite a few arguments with Sam and Tucker and Jazz until he got sat down and told outright that the way he was treating them wasn't okay. It's a process he's still trying to unlearn even at 15. He has become kinder towards them as a result, and has begun looking for what they did right rather than what they did wrong.

He harbors a lot of guilt over how he treated Damian in the League, and its a pretty big conflict he has with himself since he's torn between telling himself it was for the best to make sure Damian survived the League, and feeling like crap over how harsh/critical of Damian he was and realizing that he probably could have come up with a better way of training him despite being a child himself at the time. Danny comes to the realization that more than anything, that he just wants to apologize.

His ghost form, specifically is outfit, is a combination of his hazmat suit and his uniform from the league, and he carries a sword with him. He also doesn't know how to react to Dani, honestly. Although it is fair to say that he figures out she's a clone instantly because of her whole 'I'm your third cousin once removed' thing and he freaks out. She spills the beans pretty quickly after that. And Danny is pretty skittish around her - or the equivalent of skittish. Her being younger than him kinda reminds him of Damian, so he's uncomfortable by her presence but learns to warm up to her.

[yandere-sins]

A yandere with a darling who is kinda worse than they are but are still into it.....I don't know how unhinged you'd have to be for the yan to be like "Are you ok? Like if you need to talk about it I've put listening devices in the vents but still..."

I didn't want this to go into compliant darling territory or the darling being the yandere for someone else (though I did laugh a lot at the idea of telling the darling that the vents are bugged just in case they need it lol that's a good one). But this somewhat brought me a kind of different idea which you probably didn't intend, but I hope you like it all the same!

Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Descriptive acts of murder, stabbing, punching other people, breaking bones, getting bloody, a lot of blood actually, burying bodies), Sexual Content (Mentioning of non-con, dub-con, taking advantage, doing it in the blood of victims and next to dead bodies), Mentioning of drugs, Mentioning of knives, Patient/Doctor relationships, Murderer/Admirerer relationships, Reader is a serial killer, Yandere captures people for reader to kill, Yandere is also mad but so is reader, Reader doubts yandere's reasons for liking them, Reader is genderneutral but gets lifted into a bridal-style at the end, I once again didn't compile these warnings while writing and editing so I might miss some, sorry :(, Mentioning of wanting to throw up, Reader doesn't actually want to get better, it was different but really fun to write, Long post?, I feel like there are more warnings... but I can't remember anymore, if you made it this far and still want to read it, I hope you enjoy it!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Click

You sighed, holding your head in your hands, arms squeezed between your torso and legs. Your head was throbbing with the headache of the century. One you hadn't had in a long time... like five days. 

"You're a fucking dick, you know that?"

Groaning, you heard your own voice echo through your dizzy brain, nausea building as you felt like you were on a ship, everything moving unsteadily around you. The blinding lights flooding the off-white room didn't help soothe the feeling either, and your whole body kept tensing up, readying itself to throw up. You tried deep breaths, but they barely did anything. Not like they ever did something. You were too far gone for that.

"I did what was necessary," his voice rang out through the speaker in the top left corner, accompanied by the screeching of technical issues. You whined loudly, tearing your hair out as your head felt like it would burst. "My bad," he added, turning down the volume.

"What was it this time? Double the dose, triple? Must you keep drugging me? Some doctor you are..."

"I tried something new," he admitted, a cheeky grin in his voice. 

"Worked great..." you slurred, listening to him chuckle. 

For a while, you gave in to the need to collapse, putting your arm over your eyes to escape the lights while you thought about the last few things you could remember. Therapy was going well... at least that's what you were told. But the nurses—ugh. That one bitch.

"She did it on purpose," you mumbled, hearing the softest of agreement through the speaker. You knew that if it wasn't against regulation, he'd be sitting next to you, brushing your hair out of the way while you'd tell him your woes. He was that kind of sicko. A doctor, yet fascinated with you, his patient. Even though he merely sat behind the cameras, watching you, you could hear the sickening affection he held for only his favorite patient in every one of his words. 

In a way, he wasn't that different from you.

"You beat her up real good, smashed her face in. Got yourself into a frenzy and just tore open all your stitches from your last fight while you were at it, you really..."

He sighed. He was disappointed. Upset. This was a significant setback for him, too, after all. 

"She called me too stupid to ever recover properly and I was trying this time, really! How else should I have reacted?"

"You could have told me."

"And you would have dealt with her how?"

A brief chuckle rang out before he replied, although, had you been less delirious, you wouldn't have needed to ask. You knew what he did to people who behaved poorly with you. "I would have taken care of her, as always. You know you have my unending support."

You couldn't help a smile creeping over your face, the memory of burying the last nurse who bothered you in the asylum's cemetary resurfacing. Digging out the grave had been hard work, but you had to agree with him that the physical labor did wonders to soothe your ever-agitated mind. 

"You're terrible," you mumbled, unable to hide your smile.

"Ah! There it is! Look at those little dimples! I'm glad my services are appreciated by my darling. I was hoping to take you out on a rendevous once the dust settles. Maybe we can do that sooner than I expected."

"Who'd want that, you sicko."

Groaning, you finally sat up, looking down at the cushioned floor while you adjusted to being awake. Standing took a few attempts; the cushions aligned along the wall, not actually graspable, even if they looked like it. Everything about the solitary cell was so safe, it made you feel helpless. But eventually you managed to get to your wobbly feet, sighing in exhaustion once you stood.

"There you go, breaking my heart," he sighed, and you shook your head with a laugh, knowing he didn't mean it. 

"No straight jacket this time?" you asked, raising your arms and, for the first time since you awoke, realizing your movements were unrestraint.

"You weren't in a condition to restrain you. I prioritized your healing over that awful jacket."

"You just don't like it because it does nothing for my figure."

Again, you heard the grin in his voice as he said, "Busted. You're too cute to walk around constrained. Even though I love how crazy you look with it."

"Sicko..." you mumbled, your nickname for your doctor, endearing only in his ears. 

Your limbs were terribly heavy as you moved them towards the door. Part of you wanted to collapse on the ground again; simply pass out where you were. But knowing him, he'd definitely use the opportunity to take advantage of you, especially now that he could get a video of it. 

You didn't always mind what your doctor did to you. In a way, he was helpful even if everything you two did was against any laws in this country. If anyone knew what you two were getting into when no one was looking, you'd both be put down like rabid dogs. But that's just how you two were—feral.

The sicko kept telling you how he'd get you back on track. How he'd "fix" you just enough so you could go home with him. There was no way you'd consider living with him if you ever did get out. Still, he liked to paint the picture whenever he crawled into your bed while on night duty, hugging you and telling you about his ideas. You told him often enough that, given the chance, you'd kill him outside the safety of this institution, but so far... you hadn't.

You had enough chances, enough people he let you murder, watching you while you did it and helping you to hide the bodies once you were satisfied, but you never once turned the knife on him. Maybe it was because of his studies; perhaps he knew more about you than you about yourself. Or it was because he was just as insane. Fucking your patient in the blood of their victims was definitely not normal, even you knew that. So what other reason could he have for it except insanity? 

"Earth to my darling, I repeat: Are you thirsty?"

You felt the heat spread over your face as you felt called out by his question, almost as if he was reading your mind. It wasn't like you two were lovers. There was no chance in hell you'd get together with someone like him—or anyone for that matter. You didn't want the burden of someone clinging to you while you did your dirty work.

But the sex after releasing all your pent-up anger? Out of this world. 

Perhaps his doctorate was in fucking instead of psychiatry, but he knew how to work every part of his body. And he knew just how to get you in the mood, too. An explosive combination, mixing his lust with your madness.

That didn't change much about your feelings for him, though. 

"I'm not," you muttered, trying to hide your face, which probably showed the embarrassment you felt, thinking of the last romp you two had. You tried the deep breaths again, but the thoughts kept popping back into your mind. Must be the drugs, you thought.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!" 

His excitement was loud and clear as it rang through the microphone, and you weren't sure if you should smile at it or sneer. For some reason, you both held each other in a tight grip, unable to be separated, yet most likely toxic for each other. But he still got excited over any kind of interest you had in him and you about all the things he did so you could live out your best life—even though you were locked away for a reason. 

"Why me?" you asked, standing in front of the door, not looking up. Even if he was just the voice behind a camera at the moment, somehow, this question left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't want him to see the conflict on your face; didn't want him to know that you were doubting how deserving you were of his favor. It wasn't insecurity, wasn't a need for reassurance, but how could anyone look at you and think, "That's the one!"? You killed people, went into violent rages, and weren't considered safe enough to be reintegrated into society, probably ever again. There was nothing you had to show for yourself. Nothing that could justify the feeling of adoration your own therapist held for you. Especially not he. He should have been one of the good ones. And you weren't. It made no sense to you why he'd behave like he did.

"Why you what?"

"Why do you like me so much? I mean, come on! I mean, look at us! We're batshit crazy! This isn't some romance movie on television, we're actually doing bad shit, and yet you keep shielding me, doing me favors, telling me you love me. I'm sure there are others out there who you can fix and fuck if you like. It's not like..."

Biting your own tongue, you wondered if it was the new drug combo he tried on you that made you feel especially irritated with his feelings that day. You let him do all this stuff to and with you, but now you were getting weirded out by it? It wasn't like you to get so worked up over him; you were more of the cool type, spitting-in-his-face-type if he pissed you off. You didn't even want to validate his feelings for you, but also... being self-aware enough to know you were a danger to humankind, you couldn't shake the feeling he might just be using you for his own sick desires. And that made you angry again. You'd not be a pawn or a means for no one.

Click

"Wow, okay, you bastard." Your grumbling fell on deaf ears as he turned off the microphone. "Sure, I'm going through something here, but by all means, stop listening. Not like it's your job or anything..."

Unprepared, you jolted back as the door to your cell suddenly yanked open, revealing the pitch-black corridor that lay behind. Apparently, it was late at night, but you couldn't focus on that as your doctor appeared from the shadows, a deep frown etched into his beautiful face. He should have been a model. At least that job wouldn't have led him to meet you.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, stalking forward, undeterred by the open door, not thinking for a second that you'd try to escape. "Do I need a reason to love you for you to believe it?"

He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back as he matched the steps you were taking backward. Soon, you'd run out of space to back into, but perhaps that was his goal. 

"Can't I just love you because the first time you caved in and told me about the things you went through, things just felt... right? Everything just clicked in my head, and I thought, "Wow, I want to see them happy!" Must there be any other reason for me to love you?"

Your back hit the wall just as his eyes lowered to your lips, his thumb reaching up to brush over them. "I dream about those lips. I can't help but think about you no matter where I go. In the evening, I imagine you curled up on the couch next to me; sometimes, I hear your laugh when you aren't even there. I want that picture-perfect life with you, but the moment I step into your room and see you covered in blood, your eyes showing just how far gone you are, it just..."

He looked up again, his eyes swirling with all the emotions he tried to convey in his words. But when he met your gaze, the color drained, leaving behind what you could only describe as pure, unfiltered madness.

"It drives me insane."

His second hand raised to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm for a moment, a soft smile creeping over his lips. "I like you like this. Docile, calm, sweet. I like it when you ask me things, I like it when you beg for something. I like it when you only let me do things to you. I want to help you, I do! But..."

His hand sliding down, you looked away, trying to catch it before it slipped around your throat, pressing into it, squeezing so hard you felt as if your head was going to detach from your neck.

"I want to ruin you. I want you worse, I want you deranged. I want you to kill everyone and then me, so I'll be the last of your victims, the only one you remember. I want to be ruined by you so badly that every day, I hope you tell me about yet another staff member we get to kill, and then you can use me to satisfy your needs. Can't you understand? This is love. No one will ever love someone like you, but. I. do. I understand you, I care for you. And I will continue to do so, with no other reason than I love you. I love you so much."

You gasped for air at this point, fingers grabbing his arm. It was hard listening to him, but it was harder to breathe. You knew he wouldn't kill you. This was nothing compared to other things you two did to each other. It stung a little when he said no one else would ever love you, but he was right. Not unless the change everyone expected from you was also something you wanted. 

But why would you?

The pressure on your throat disappeared, only for your breath to be stolen by his kiss. You hated this man. You hated him because he was a little bit too much like you. Too unhinged to be likable. And at the same time, he wasn't at all. He was too supportive, too nice, too forgiving. It disgusted you, honestly. Yet, you reciprocated, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Before he could back off, you caught his cheeks in a squeeze between your fingers to draw him back to lick off the red fluid, reminding him he wasn't the deranged one here. 

"Don't question me again about my feelings, please," he asked, out of breath, too, as he bumped his forehead against yours. "I love you, I really do."

"You're a sicko, you know that? And your beard is stinging me, you should shave."

At this, he laughed out loud, raising his head to the ceiling. "I spent three days waiting for you to wake up. You can deal with some stubble."

"No, I don't like it."

Grinning, he lowered his face to you and gave you another peck on the lips. "It's gone tomorrow, I promise."

"Can I go back to my room now?"

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Someone's awaiting their punishment still. You really want to miss out on that?"

Now it was your turn to grin as well. "Aww, you shouldn't have! Are we gonna cut up that bitch now? For real?"

"Anything for you," he mumbled, raising your hand to give it a quick smooch. "But let me change your bandages first. I don't want you to accidentally get sepsis if your wounds are still open."

"Surprisingly, you're still a doctor at heart."

"That's not true," he gasped, feigning indignation about your statement.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him bend down to pick you up, bridal-style even. You weren't mad since your legs felt even weaker than before, and you really wanted to conserve your energy. 

"I'm afraid it's no longer medicine that has claimed my heart."

He looked at you, smiling softly. "It's all you."

"And I can't help but love you more, realizing I am becoming more like you every day."

[baby-yongbok]

4:26 am

Best friend!Bang Chan × Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: You love your boyfriend Minho, but lately your best friend has been on your mind.

Warnings: Cheating, Chan is a tiny bit manipulative, Car Sex? (That should be all, sorry if I missed anything!)

A/N: This might might, be the last of Chan's birthday posts. I have one more that I prepared awhile ago but I might save it. Who knows lol. I hope that you enjoy! I'm trying to start writing again and it's been hard so I'm sorry if this is a bit rough 😅

✨️Masterlist✨️

 “Tell me again why we're parked in an abandoned parking lot at 4:26 am.” Chan asks quizzically. I sighed, running my hands over my face. 

“I needed someone to vent to.” My gaze stays fixed on my lap, I don’t know if I can look at him, I don’t know what I’ll do when his eyes meet mine. He’s my best friend and I know I can tell him anything, hell, he picked up the phone in the middle of the night and came running to me. So I know that I can trust him but right now the thought of looking him in the eye with these thoughts running through my head is dizzying.

“Well I'm here, start when you want.” He leans forward, crossing his arms and resting them on top of the steering wheel. I run my hands through my hair as I try to gather my thoughts.

“Okay so, uh, Minho came home early tonight and he surprised me with this really cute home date and ya know… we had sex and it was good, really it was, but I just don’t feel… I haven’t been feeling…” My heart is beating a mile a minute, Chan and I are extremely close and we talk about our sex lives all the time but this time it’s different. 

“Unsatisfied?” Chan asks with an eyebrow raised. I nod my head, thankful that he finished the sentence for me. Talking about Minho behind his back feels so wrong but I suppose it’s not as wrong as what I plan to confess next.

“Yeah, unsatisfied and I've been… thinking of someone else.” I swallow hard as I play with the zipper of my hoodie, desperate to pay attention to anything but the look on Chan’s face. I know him, I know that he’s looking at me with semi wide interested eyes and he’s waiting for me to look back at him but I just can’t. 

“Who do you think about?” If I were in a hospital right now the nurses would go crazy because I am almost certain that my heart stopped, exploded even. I knew that he’d ask me that question but hearing it actually come out of his mouth sets off a whole new type of panic. Should I tell him the truth? I’m in a relationship, a beautiful and loving one at that, I shouldn’t go around confessing these things. But on the other hand, the thought of my fantasy coming true is too inviting to ignore. It’s now or never and I choose now.

“Well, it depends on the day. It could be Hyunjin, Seungmin, but… I mostly think of you. I guess it’s because of our connection or some shit like that, I don't know” My nerves got to me half way through my confession, shit, he must think I’m fucking with him. The silence around us lasted far too long for my liking, causing me to look over at the man in the driver's seat. His eyebrows were slightly raised and there was a red tint to the tips of his ears but other than that he seemed completely cool and collected. 

“Okay, uh, you think about me in what way? Like, do you daydream about me and kind of dissociate from Minho or do you pretend that he's me?” His brows knit together briefly before relaxing again. He shifts in his seat, leaning back completely and bringing his crossed arms to rest over his chest. He’s clearly trying not to show the effect that my confession has on him.

“I imagine that he's you, that his hands are yours and that you’re the one fucking me, it's better when I pretend.” I look back down at my lap as a deep blush creeps onto my cheeks. 

“Do you come faster? More intensely?” My head jolts up quickly and my eye’s find his immediately, the look of disbelief written all over my features makes Chan grin. He chuckles a bit and that's when I realize that he's messing with me. I sigh dramatically, relaxing into my seat before flashing my middle finger in his direction.

“Fuck you, don’t taunt me.” He smiles wider, looking down at his lap.

“I just want to know for my own personal records.” He licks his lips before looking back up at me  “It's fun hearing what I do to you.” 

At this point I’m sure that my brown skin is as red as a rose. Why did he have to look at me like that? Is he trying to ruin me? 

“I called you because I need to vent.” I remind him as I turn to look out of the passenger window, anything to avoid his gaze for a second. 

“Sorry sorry, continue.” I clear my throat and unzip my hoodie just a bit, is it getting hot in here? Why does his car suddenly feel so small?

“He falls asleep after sex all the time, I mean how could I blame him? Three rounds every night for four or five days a week is a lot on top of working and all of the other stuff that he does in a day. But no matter how many times we do it I’m still not satisfied afterwards, I watch porn and use my vibrator on the bathroom floor, every time.”

“Did you do that tonight?” His eyebrows knit together in curiosity, I open my mouth to try to answer him but when I look back in his direction I get distracted by the sight of his strong arms. He leaned back in his seat a bit more than he was a minute ago, his fingers intertwined and tucked behind his head giving me the perfect view of his biceps and everything that matches it. 

“No, I called you instead. I just needed to talk to someone. I feel like I'm going crazy, I keep wanting more and more sex. This can’t be normal.” Chan chuckles lightly and I can’t help but to roll my eyes. Is he even taking this seriously?

“Well either you're a sex addict or you aren't satisfied because you want someone else. In this case that person would be me.” He moves his hands from behind his head and rests them in his lap lazily.

“So, what? I fuck you and it goes away? If anything I'll keep wanting it.” I scoff, shaking my head in an attempt to erase the thoughts.

“You'll never know unless you try.” My eyes meet his quickly, I open my mouth to reply but no words make sense in my head. Is he serious? He’s messing with me… right? 

“I couldn't cheat on… I can't.” 

“Haven't you already though? Thinking of another man inside of you while he is? Imagining that you're with me.. your best friend. If he were thinking of someone else while he fucked you would you call that cheating?”  I turn away from him as if I'm physically trying to run away from his words. This is all too much to handle. The man that I can’t stop thinking about is basically offering himself to me. But I can’t do that to Minho, he’s been nothing but good to me for all of these years, he’s loving and attractive and he shares all of my values… but so does Chan and right now my best friend has one up on my boyfriend when it comes to intimacy. Is this really worth it? Is sex really worth potentially ruining my relationship to start a new one with Chan?

“I'm single, Y/n, if I screw you no one will care. But you, you're in a relationship. If we fuck you'll either feel guilty and confess everything to him or you'll feel so amazing that you'll call me at 4 am every night, The choice is yours.” Silence surrounds us and it almost feels heavy on my skin. What should I do next? I could tell him to take me home or I could get in the backseat and let him fuck me until I’m satisfied. I glance over at Chan to find that he’s already looking at me, his relaxed gaze is raking over my frame slowly but that’s not what did it. It was the way he licked his lips as his eyes met mine, like he could already taste me. Like he already had me. 

“Fuck it.” I blurt out, making up my mind all at once. It’s like every system in my brain shut off at once. I'm not really even thinking anymore, every move is now driven by desire. “Let me see your dick.”

 I maintain eye contact so that he knows that I’m serious. A smirk plays upon his lips and his eyebrows raise instantly.

“That escalated quickly.” He chuckles and I try my best to hide my giddy grin, Am I really doing this? Maybe I can take it back?

“Show me.” Chan takes a deep breath, hooking his thumbs into the waistline of his sweats before giving me a glance. I can tell what he’s trying to say with his eyes, he’s asking me if I’m sure about this and to be honest that answer is no, I’m anything but sure. All I know is that part of me is desperate to see if he really has this effect on me or if it’s all in my head. I nod to him and without another word he lowers the hem of his gray sweatpants and his cock springs up, resting against his clothed stomach.

Fuck what I said before, I don’t want to take it back. The mere sight of his dick, makes my mouth water. It takes every ounce of control that I have in my body not to lean forward and take him in my mouth. I want to taste him, to feel him, to use him.

“No underwear?” I tease with a smile and he shrugs.

“You said it was an emergency, I rushed over to you. Threw on the first thing I could find.”

“Mm maybe that's a sign.” He furrows his brows slightly as he watches me with curious eyes. I unzipped my hoodie completely, revealing the lingerie that I had put on for Minho tonight and never changed out of. 

“Fuck.” Chan says in a breathy sigh, bringing his hand up to his cock.

“Is it still cheating if I don't touch you?” I slip off my silk sleep shorts and turn my body towards Chan so that my back is against the passenger door. I open my legs to give him a full view of my cunt, reaching down to spread my arousal over my folds. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, babygirl” His tone is a bit deeper than before, the soft and playful tone replaced with a deep and husky one. He holds his hand out towards me and I nearly moan at the words that follow.

“Get it wet for me?” A low hum vibrates from my throat as I lean forward, pursing my lips and spitting into his palm. He coos at me, a quiet ‘good girl’ leaving his lips as he watches me. His eyes don’t leave mine as he takes his hand back and spreads my spit over his leaking tip mixing my saliva with his pre-cum. Slowly, his eyes trail down my body until they fix on my dripping pussy. He slowly starts to stroke himself, exhaling heavily when he rubs over his tip.

“Play with yourself for me, yeah?” At this point the only thing going through my head is Chan. He’s all I can remember, all that I want, all that I need. I feel drunk off of the sight of him sitting across from me, cheeks flushed and his long fingers wrapped around his hard cock. How could I possibly want to do anything but please this man?

I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly through parted lips, my eyes stay trained on him as I slowly trail my hand from my neck to my stomach. I watch his expression as he grows a bit impatient from my teasing, his dark gaze warning me to give him what he asked for. 

“Does it look like I want you to tease me, baby?” The tone of his voice sends chills down my spine, his words are breathy and challenging and it makes me hungry for more. What would he do to me if I kept teasing? How would he punish me? 

“Why would I give you what you want right away?” I run my fingers along my inner thighs, smiling at him as his gaze drops from my eyes to my core, watching my hand carefully. “That would be boring.”

“Touch yourself or I'll do it for you.” A shiver runs down my spine as I imagine him getting impatient with me and taking control, using his long fingers to fuck me. Why do I feel drunk off of that thought? It hasn’t even happened and yet I feel like I’m on cloud 9. 

“Fuck.” I hiss as I run my fingers between my folds brushing against my clit and circling it. Chan strokes himself a bit faster as he watches me, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. 

“Put a finger inside.” He looks up from my cunt and my eyes follow his meeting for a second. My pussy clenches around nothing, desperate for something, anything, him. “Pretend that it’s me” 

He nearly sounds like he’s pleading me to do it, like he’s desperate to see how I fuck myself. Desperate to see what the thought of him does to me. I nod, slowly obeying his command and slipping my middle finger deep into my cunt.

“Oh fuck.” My back arches up off of the passenger door once I start fucking myself, increasing the pace gradually as I start to become desperate for more. I pressed the palm of my hand against my clit, trying to add as much stimulation as possible. He watches in awe as my hips buck into my hand a bit. 

“Add another.” I quickly obey his command, adding my ring finger inside, eliciting a groan of pleasure to fall from my parted lips. I try my best to keep my eyes open, I want to watch him, I need to watch him. His strokes are much faster now, small grunts and sighs leaving his parted lips, his head thrown back in ecstasy. I take in the way that his jaw clenched as he builds himself closer to the edge, his right leg slightly bouncing, it's a masterpiece that I wish I could become a part of. 

“Chan.” His name passes my lips in a breathy moan and he looks over at me as he strokes the head of his dick, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip at the sensation. “I need you so badly.” 

“Your choice.” He groans out as he throws his head back again squeezing his eyes shut. “ Better make up your mind, I’m so close, babygirl.” 

I sigh heavily as I try my best to fight the urge to climb over and ride him until I pass out. I focus on my own pleasure again, Imagining that it’s Chan rubbing tight circles on my clit while his long fingers reach spots that I didn’t even know existed. I imagine that it’s him bringing me closer and closer to the edge, I wish it was him. The wet sounds of Chan stroking his cock mix with my moans as we both draw closer to the edge. I watch his hand as he pleasures himself, I wonder if he’s imagining that, that’s me. I wonder if he feels that same way. Does he touch himself to the thought of me at night? Thinking of all of the times that we were play fighting and his fingers grazed my bare skin, all of the tight hugs that we shared, my chest pressed up against him. Does he think about me?

“Shit, oh my god” I squeeze my eyes shut and arch my back at the thought of him wanting me just as much as I want him, maybe even more.

“Fucking cum for me, babygirl.”  Chan groans “I'm so fucking close for you.”

Those words alone throw me over the edge, one of my fantasies is coming true right in front of my eyes.

“Oh my- I'm gonna..” Before I could get another word out my orgasm rushed over me, breathtaking and mind fogging.  I clamped my legs shut and arched my back off of the car door. My moans filled the space around us but I couldn’t hear them, the pleasure was deafening. 

“Fuck, Y/n.” My name fell off of his tongue in a sweet moan and my pussy clenched at the sound of it, sending another wave of euphoria through me. “Oh shit, I'm cumming.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, his strokes becoming shorter but still just as fast. A rush of adrenaline hit me and suddenly my vision changed. I felt like a rabid animal who was desperate for food. Suddenly, I forgot about everything that was looming over my head. All of my thoughts about Minho and saving our relationship were gone. All that I could think of was pleasure and I was absolutely driven by it, so much so that after the first stream of cum came leaking from Chan’s tip I leaned forward, getting on my knees in the passenger seat and running my tongue up his length. He moved his hand quickly, clearly surprised by my sudden confidence. I licked up to the head of his cock and then took the rest of his length down my throat. His seed spilled into my mouth in warm and delicious spurts, painting my throat with his sticky arousal. Every bit of him tasted like heaven and in this moment I swear that I would do anything that anybody asks as long as I get to stay here. As long as I get to feel him. 

“Y/n” His hand lightly lays on the back of my head, stroking my hair slightly. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” I bob my head a couple of times, milking his arousal from him until I’m sure that I’ve got every last drop. Once he’s come down from his high I sit up, releasing his cock from my mouth with a faint ‘pop’ and licking my lips. I sit back into my seat, settling in a bit while we watch each other. Chan’s chest is rising and falling heavily and there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, once he seem to have composed himself a little the tiniest chuckle falls from his lips as he begins to tuck himself back into his sweatpants

“Do you think that fulfilled your lust for me?” 

“Not even close.”

[rosemarydisaster]

Thinking about writing something about RoyJay. I just love the idea of those two accidentally fumbling their way into having one of the healthiest dynamics in DC.

Like, they're both considered such fuck UPS by the cape community at large post drugs/pit madness. I just think they're both such no-bullshit people they would be actually really effective at cutting each other's self destructive/self isolating behavior. And at first they would fight it because "fuck you and your holier than thou shit", but they would eventually realize neither of them is judging the other. That they both come from a place of caring and empathy even if they can't always express it.

Like Roy has a lot of background on the Batfam dynamics from being friends with both Dick and Jason. He understands how it feels to not meet your mentors expectations and to be let down by them in your time of need. He's also a father that has lost his daughter and I think that he can both validate Jason's need for vengeance while also offering some perspective on Batman's self destructive behavior after Jason's death. I think that whole angle is so interesting to explore (even in a Bad Batdad or trying his best but it's not enough Batdad situation). Roy also would let Jason vent about his siblings sure, but once he calms down he'd force Jason to reckon with the fact that these are kids. Dick, Cass and Tim aren't at fault for other people comparing them to Jason, and unfair comparisons go both ways.

On the other hand I think that Jason is probably one of the better equipped people to help Roy through his addiction. Jason has never blamed Catherine for her struggles and understands that if she never managed to get clean it wasn't for a lack of love for him. He would be the most empathetic in that situation, understanding how fucking hard it is to stay clean, but at the same time he would never go easy on Roy because he knows that sometimes you need someone to hold you accountable until you can do it yourself again. Roy would really appreciate having someone that has his daughter's best interest at heart but doesn't judge him as a horrible father for struggling. It can be so hard when everyone else just assumes that you should be able to magically cure something that's affecting your brain chemistry because it's what "good parents should do". I also think Jason would point out the hypocrisy of Roy calling Dick a Martyr while pulling the same shit. Maybe Roy doesn't do it out of guilt and a savior complex but the end results are the same.

Like, I don't ship them just because they're two men standing next to each other being friends. I think that even from a completely platonic standpoint their dynamic must be so interesting because of all of the above. Canon doesn't do enough with all of those tasty parallels because they're cowards. They're in the perfect place to help each other and they have the no-nonsense attitude to keep each other in check. They wouldn't judge each other but neither would they try to fix each other. They'd help each other fix themselves. I'm chewing my arm off.