#and i find myself hesitating more and more before posting stuff now

[aquapede]

starting to feel like it's kind of a waste of my time to post my artwork online considering it gets very very limited responses if any. i don't even care about the numbers! i just want people's thoughts and feelings about what i've made! this is a sentiment i've felt before but it feels especially prevalent now where i'm posting on multiple sites and putting effort into image IDs and getting less back in exchange. it really just eats up my time and then makes me feel like what i've made is inadequate.

[bernardsbendystraws]

Fresh Air

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Check out my pinned post for more of my writing.

00 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 FINAL

Summary: One night at a party seems to change everything. A strange man with a friendly smile and a sleeve of patchwork tattoos seems to make you feel at home for a change. You're finally happy to have made a good friend to lean on - especially when it comes to your not-so-great relationship with your boyfriend. But what happens if you lean too much...what happens if you fall?

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

13: Ready or Not...?

wc: 1000+

It was starting to weigh down on me. Hayden kept giving more clues when talking about his ‘cheating ex girlfriend,’ dropping previous brands I’d worked with, small details that were littered all throughout a quick scan of my social media. People knew. And they were livid. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” I spit, tossing my phone on the couch as I rub my hands over my face. The afternoon sun peeking through the window of Matt’s living room is bothersome, a glare of brightness burning into my face as I readjust again. 

Matt was still in the shower. Nick and Chris sat with me, their jaws dropping as they did some digging on their own phones. Posts, tweets, videos…I was sick of seeing my face attached to such bullshit. 

He cheated too. 

“Can you like…sue for deaf animation of some shit?” Chris says. 

Before I can even think to correct his wording, Nick lets out a deep sigh, disappointed with his tone as he starts to speak, “-defamation, Chris. Not fuckin’ deaf animation.” 

I want to crack a smile at the mishap, but I can’t find it in myself to do anything but stare at the post on my phone. A picture of us that had somehow been spread across the media, one that definitely confirmed we had some sort of relationship. And I knew people were nosy, but how the fuck did they find all this shit? 

Today was supposed to be for relaxing. Matt told me nothing except that I needed to be at his house by noon, but I didn’t even have to do that. Not when I kept spending the night. 

“Hey, you ready?” 

My mouth waters as I look over, seeing Matt shuffling a hand through his damp hair. Part of me thought that once the ‘forbidden’ aspect of our relationship faltered that some of the spark would fade, but I only wanted him more. 

Especially now that I could think freely. And recently, I’d love living in my daydreams, seeing his face, letting myself imagine what more would look like with him. 

Nodding, I get up and shut off my phone without a second thought. 

Those people’s opinions never brought me these types of feelings. No one typing their thumbs on a screen could ever make my stomach feel so fuzzy. 

So, why should I even care? 

___

Music plays through the car with a low volume. The scenery through the windows had passed for a while at this point, miles upon miles passing by in my peripherals. 

I didn’t mind the long drive, it felt good to sit in such a soft silence. We didn’t need to talk. There was no pressure to fill the air with repetitive words, not when we could both just sink into the calmness of each other’s company.

“Where are you even taking me?” I ask. 

Matt shrugs, looking over to me with a small, reassuring smile. An immediate warmth spreads from his touch as his hand lands on my thigh. That’s new. 

“Well,” he says, his fingers gently grasping my thigh, “-I was gonna drive us up to that one viewpoint. I got all the stuff in the trunk, we can just… hangout. Just us.” 

Just us. I really liked the sound of that. My hand floats over top of his, hesitating before I caress over his knuckles. “I like that idea,” I smile. 

Matt gives my thigh another squeeze, quickly glancing over to me as he pulls off on the side of the road, “Good. We’re here.” 

Before I even have the chance to react, Matt puts the car in park, clicking the release mechanism for my seatbelt. The strap slides off my body. I look over, seeing his eyes gazing into mine with uncertainty hidden behind the familiar pale blue. 

“I was, uh,” he slowly pulls his own seatbelt off, his eyes never leaving mine, “-was gonna pop the trunk and…’’ 

His words falter to silence. I lean slightly over the console, pushing myself towards him and smirking as his eyes widen. “And?” I urge. 

The comfortable air has shifted into something tense, but not in a bad way. In fact, it feels really good - really, really good. 

Matt’s lips smack together. He swallows hard, clearing his throat as he shifts his gaze to his lap. “I…stop lookin’ at me like that,” he sighs beneath his breath, the tone of his voice making some sort of pride swell in my chest as I relax back into the seat. 

“Hm, my bad,” I hum. 

Matt clicks his tongue along the roof of his mouth. “Hold on a sec,” he mutters, climbing out of the car, popping open the trunk and starting to shuffle around. The slight movement and audible noises make my mind race. What is he doing? What’s he planning? 

My heart nearly jumps out of my chest as he abruptly opens my door. He looks down at me with an apologetic smile, grasping my hand gently as he helps me out of the car. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just… I’m excited for you to see this.” 

Curiosity looms over my shoulder as I follow his footsteps, his hand squeezing mine as we come to a halt just before the trunk of the car comes into view. 

“Okay, I just - don’t judge me. I mean, I don’t think you will, actually, I kinda doubt you will since you’ve never really done that before and you… I guess you just… well,” he rambles, his face furrowing as he looks around aimlessly, “- not like any sort of bad thing but I,”

“Hey,” I cut off, bringing my free hand to ruffle his hair, petting down his arm for reassurance, “-you don’t worry so much, it’s just me. It’s just us,” I remind. 

The statement seems to give him some comfort. Matt sighs, nodding as he tugs me even closer behind him. My stomach is swirling with anticipation, the glint of excitement in his eyes twinkling as he mutters one soft word; 

“Ready?”

A/N: OH SHIT I KNOW SOMETHING YOU DON'T!!!! (ily im sorry matt sturniolo taught me everything i know about edging, blame him.) Anyhow - any interation is appretiated! LMK UR THOTS!!!

[funkybatics]

Prettier than the stars

warnings: none!! they kiss and it's a little heated but that's it

A/N: I CAN FINALLY POST STUFF YAYYYY!!!! here's a cute fluffy fic with the silly man himself!! Dottore!!! this can be seen as akademiya or modern-day college au! ALSO HES AN ADULT IN THIS FIC!!! I hope u enjoy <3 ^U^

He couldn't help but look at you.

Why would he be interested in the stars above when the brightest one sits next to him? Shoulder touching his and bringing him a sickening warmth.

It was an odd feeling. He couldn't decide if he despised it or not, it made him feel weak after all. But he also could not bare the thought of not having you with him, so he let it stay.

"Zandik?"

He blinks, zoning back into reality. He goes to respond but feels his heart get lodged in his throat.

You looked so beautiful. The moon was full tonight and its glow illuminated you so perfectly.

Your hair was a slight mess, strands sticking out in different places. There were noticeable eyebags under your eyes, from the constant sleepless nights you've had (being a college student isn't for the weak hearted)

Yet, you still looked serene. It was you, and thats all he cared about.

"Are you alright?" You tilt your head, tired eyes analyzing him, "You were spacing out, should we head back? Are you tired?"

He bites the inside of his cheek and glances away, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, "I'm fine, you needn't worry about me."

You hum in response and look back at the stars, "What's on your mind?"

"What?"

"I know that look in your eyes, you were quite deep in thought you know. Another genius breakthrough?" You turn to grin at him.

He's silent, gazing intensely at you.

"...Zandik? Hello?" Your cheeks heat up as he stares into your soul for what seems like forever, "Are you-"

"A breakthrough would be the right words yes." He shifts his body to face you properly, "____, would you be willing to help me with a theory?"

"A theory? Of what kind?" Your eyes lock into his and time seems to still. He has an air of... vulnerability to him.

"When I'm with you, I find myself feeling... sick. My chest feels tight and my stomach flutters." His brows furrow as he tries to find the right words, "Even so, I don't... mind your company. In fact, when you're not here I feel even more lost."

He lets his hand come up to cup your cheek.

"Zandik..." your eyes soften and you lean into his touch with a smile, "I love you too." He only stares at you, his hand tensing slightly as he processes the words.

"..."

The only warning you get is the subtle furrowing of his brows, before he suddenly pulls you into a kiss. You can tell he's never really done this before.

It's alright though, you don't hesitate to take the lead and help him out. Tangling your fingers into his soft, curly blue hair, you deepen the kiss.

He lets out a noise when you swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, and he feels his head go numb when it finally enters. After what feels like an eternity you both pull back for air, lips swollen and hearts racing.

"Was...was that useful data?"

He composes himself and clears his throat, looking away to hide his flustered face.

"O-One test run is never enough, multiple trials are needed to get proper data. I'll be expecting your help from now on."

"Are you asking me out?"

"Yes."

You scoot closer to him, giggling, and lay your head on his shoulder, "I accept."

As you look back at the stars, he finds he still can't focus on them. He feels a fuzzy warmth as you lean against him.

You're prettier than the stars anyway.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

hey! im sorry to make another post like this, but i feel like i need to say some things. because honestly, if i don’t, i won’t be able to move on from it.

further text under the cut because i don’t want to flood your feed with this

when i posted that anon message, i wasn’t expecting.. well, anything, really. i just felt very awful, i dumped my feelings out because i got emotional and i was ready to just delete this app and not come back. i thought, okay, that’s it, i embarrassed myself for the last time, im done. but when i came back, suddenly there were all these kind messages from people telling me they care, and i think it’s only because of you all that i’m still here. you all mean so much to me, i don’t think i’ve ever felt this supported in my entire life. i don’t know what i did to deserve this kind of kindness, but it means everything to me. so thank you, thank you so much to everyone who didn’t just walk past me when i needed it the most, i really needed to hear that. i cant help but smile when reading your words. i appreciate each of you.

the truth is, that anon text hit me like a knife to the chest. and i hate that it did. i hate that i let a random person make me feel sick about my own hobby, my own blog and everything i’ve ever shared here. but the thing is i’ve always felt this way. hesitant, always unsure if i even have the right to take up space here, i guess a lot of that comes from the friendships i used to have.

because ive always been that friend. the one who listens, who gives. who’s always there when someone needs to vent, to cry, to talk about their passions, struggles or random thoughts. and i never minded, i loved being there for people. but when i tried to share smth about me, it was always met with indifference. like what i had to say wasn’t worth anything. and after years of that, i started believing it myself. even now, posting this, i still feel awkward. like, it’s hard for me to even write this without thinking, should i delete this before anyone sees it? that’s where the anxiety comes from and it’s smth im still working through

so when that anon said what they did, it was like hearing all of my worst thoughts spoken out loud. as if they reached inside my brain, pulled out every insecurity i’ve ever had, and threw it right in my face. ive always felt like im being too annoying. i know i post a lot, but every time i cant help but feel so cringe about it. and i fight it because i dont like being constantly embarrassed for just being myself, but it’s exhausting.

so yeah, when i saw that message, i just felt so damn embarrassed about everything, like i was making a fool of myself this entire time and just didn’t realize it and i hate feeling that way.

and the part that really got to me was the comparison. it hurt more than anything, it made me feel like no matter how hard i try, ill never be enough, that all the effort, all the time, all the small moments of pride i let myself have were just misplaced. i know I’m not perfect, i know there are better writers, faster writers or just people who seem to create more interesting ideas or plots or describe characters way better, but i didnt mind? i mean i was just trying to find space where i can express myself without fear, but then that comparison just made me feel so sick of myself. like “oh look, they’re better, so mb you should just give up.��� it made me feel like i don’t have the right to take up space here at all

its hard to explain, but that comparison just made me feel like i was less than

i wouldn’t say i’m a perfectionist, but i am very critical of my writing. i put a lot of effort into my stuff, especially since english isn’t my first language. it’s twice as hard to make sure my sentences are right, that i didn’t mess up the grammar, that i used the right words. and when you pour so much effort into smth and then someone just comes and shits all over it, it kills any desire to create or continue smth. makes you feel like maybe you shouldn’t create anything else. hell, i know that sounds dramatic, but that’s how it feels. and i hate that i’m letting this ruin smth i loved

and the part about taking too long to update... i don’t know what to say to that, i’m not a machine, i write when my brain lets me. when i have an idea, an image in my head, when i feel inspired. and i did have inspiration. i spent a whole week writing that last fic, actually enjoying the process, i felt proud of it, which is rare for me. excited to share it with people. and for what?

and the worst part is, i was planning to start posting my art too. i wanted to finally get out of my comfort zone, to share smth i’ve been afraid to share for so long. but if this is the kind of reaction i get for just writing, then what the hell is gonna happen when i post art? i blocked the last anon who sent me hate, so this is someone new then? meaning there’s two people now who actively dislike me enough to go out of their way to make sure i know. and i know, i know, i shouldn’t care about whether people like me or not. but fuck, it’s hard, i’m a professional overthinker, and unfortunately, i don’t think i’ll be quitting that job anytime soon.

i already had so much going on in my personal life. so much i was trying to get off my mind by being here, writing, sharing things that make me happy, talking with people. and then i open this app and see that, and suddenly it’s like, what’s even the point?

i know i’m being a sensitive crybaby. i hate to be this way. and i get that it’s the internet, and people can be jerks and assholes. but i REALLY don’t understand how much poison you have to have in yourself to send this hateful shit to a complete stranger. i just don’t get it. i’ve never left hate on anything, not even on stuff that isn’t for me. it just feels so pointless?

and as for the thing about Stan’s speech in my fics - im not american. english isn’t even my first language. and you have no idea how much effort it takes to get his voice even close to what it should be, he is one of the hardest characters for me to write. so fuck you, anon, you suck. genuinely

but... as much as that anon’s words gutted me, the kindness i received in response meant even more, it reminded me of why im here in the first place. to share things i love, to create, to talk with people who actually care. what im trying to say is thank you for making me feel less alone. i’m honestly just.. overwhelmed, in the best way. i was drowning in self-doubt, and your kindness and support pulled me out. i don’t take it for granted. i love all of you ♡♡ ive read all your messages, and ive never felt SO damn appreciated

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 6

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

I'm also posting this story on AO3 which you can find here.

TW: Violence

First | Prev | Next

Chapter 6

Dear Mr. Wayne.

Or should I just call you Bruce?

I might not address you at all. Hopefully, that doesn’t bother you. I know some people are weird about that kind of stuff. Have you read Daddy Long Legs? I can only assume you have if you want me to write letters, but I might be wrong. For all I know, you just want people to thank you profusely for your generosity. That sounds more likely.

But I digress.

You wanted to know about my studies.

Classes are going well.

You probably expected more, but it’s only week two. I’m still getting my bearings. I promise to share more with you next time, but I was already late getting this first letter to you. Sorry. I’m not great at talking about myself, so this is hard for me.

I think I should start with why this scholarship is so important to me. Writing isn’t the most lucrative business, nor do writers change the world the doctors and scientists. You could have thrown my application away, but you didn’t, which must mean we understand the same thing.

Writers wield a special kind of magic.

When I have a pen in my hand, I feel invincible, and the stories I plan to write will offer people a reprieve from the harsh realities of the world.

As someone who strives to do good, I figured you’d understand.

I was hesitant to accept this scholarship. The kindness of strangers makes me wary, but I’m starting to see that might be my cynicism talking. Kindness doesn’t have to have an ulterior motive.

Thank you for taking a chance on me.

I promise I won’t disappoint you.

Jason sat on the edge of a parapet that overlooked Crime Alley, your letter resting on his thigh. His helmet sat off to the side, leaving him in his domino mask instead. He wanted more, obviously, but seeing how nervous writing this letter made you; he was just grateful to receive something.

It was surprisingly vulnerable. He never imagined tender words hiding behind those dubious stares. At the end of the day, you just wanted to bring a little magic to the world. It was an admirable thing, even if you considered it small by comparison.

He smiled to himself as he tucked the letter in the inner pocket of his jacket, satisfied with himself.

And Tim thought the letters were stupid.

His comm beeped with an incoming call. He tapped it and said, “Go ahead.”

“Hood.”

“Oracle.” He sat a little straighter, ready to bolt, not that running did him any good. She likely already had tabs on him. “If this has anything to do with the raid on Black Mask and the ensuing property damage, I plead the fifth.”

“If I did know anything about it, the evidence I’ve compiled wouldn’t require a confession.”

She knew. Babs knew everything.

“But that’s not why I’m calling,” she continued, “We have a hostage situation that could go south and fast if we don’t act quickly.”

Jason sagged. “Yeah, I don’t really do—”

“It’s at Wayne Manor.”

His protests died on a wheeze. “And you called me?”

“Bruce and Damian are inside, but Robin managed to slip away. He needs back up, and you’re the closest to Gotham Heights.”

“What about Orphan?”

“Recon for the Birds of Prey.”

“Spoiler?”

“She has a night class.”

Jason gnawed at the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper. Exhausting the growing list of Gotham vigilantes wouldn’t help him here. As if sensing his thoughts, Babs said, “I wouldn’t have called on you if I didn’t have to. You know that.”

He sighed as he reached for his helmet. “You owe me.”

“Consider the property damage forgotten until the next time you irritate me.”

“So, next week?”

Her snort crackled in his ear. “I’m assuming you know where to go.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m heading that way now. ETA is about ten minutes.”

“Can you make it in eight?”

“Is that permission to speed?”

“That never stopped any of you before.” He chuckled as he grappled down, landing with a soft thud near his motorcycle. “I’ll link you with Robin when he’s online. Shouldn’t be more than a minute. He has a better idea of the situation than I do.”

“Yeah, about that,” Jason said as he kicked up the stand of his bike and sped off toward Wayne Manor, “Dear, old Robin may or may not have me blocked.”

Babs waited for a beat before she asked, “Why?”

“No idea. I’m a fucking delight to talk to.”

“Uh huh.” Her indifference stung more than he cared to admit. For all the contacts in his phone, his phone stayed silent most days.

It didn’t bother him.

Why would it bother him?

“That won’t be a problem. I could also unblock you.”

“Ignore him, Oracle. He knows exactly why he’s blocked.”

“Tiny Tim!”

“Codenames,” Babs warned.

“Robin!” he corrected without missing a beat. He took a sharp left, his body shifting with his bike. “Managed to evade a hostage situation this go around? There’s a first time for everything, I guess. This is why I’m not a fan of parties.”

“You get invited to parties?”

Jason clenched his teeth. “Fuck off.”

“Aw, did I hurt the big, bad Hood’s feelings?”

“Boys,” Babs chided, “Can we keep the bickering to a minimum? I haven’t had nearly enough coffee, and there are lives on the line. Hostages, men with guns. Whatever beef you have right now can wait.”

“Right,” Tim said more seriously, “We’ve got Blood Knuckles at the manor.”

“I’m sorry. Blood Knuckles? Are you shitting me?” Jason grunted as he took another sharp turn, “What is a Crime Alley gang doing in Gotham Heights?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Here’s what we’re working with.”

“Tell me everything. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Three minutes later, Jason found Tim stooped outside the window that looked onto the sitting room. Its familiarity knotted his stomach. Jason used to spend hours reading on those leather couches while a roaring fire crackled on the hearth. He shoved away the nostalgia and tried to focus on the present.

Bits of plaster and crystal littered the floor. Guests huddled in small clusters throughout the room as four armed men circled the room. Bruce stood near a middle-aged man who clutched his arm. Blood oozed through his fingers as Bruce addressed the man looming over them. He held a gun aloft in his hand, his knuckles marked with a telltale red.

“That’s Oscar Franz,” Tim provided, “He’s CEO of a pharmaceutical company based in Star City. Oracle, what can you tell us about him?”

“Not as clean as people believe,” she said, “It looks like he’s been smuggling experimental narcotics into Gotham for distribution.”

“Not anymore,” Jason cut in, “I intercepted his line a few weeks ago and haven’t allowed anything since.” Experimental drugs and unchecked suppliers made his operation messy. He didn’t have time for messy when he expected things to run without his constant supervision. “He supplied for a few dealers in my territory, so I’m not sure who paid for a hit on him.”

“We can figure that out after we save the hostages,” Babs assured him.

“We have one injured already.”

“Two,” Tim corrected as he motioned to the body that lay crumpled near the bar, “A server dropped their platter. It distracted out targets, giving me a chance to slip out, but it looks like she paid the price.”

“Is she breathing?”

“I hope so.”

That was reassuring.

“Four guys, armed,” Jason continued, “You could have taken them without me.”

“In tight quarters like this, we don’t want anyone else getting hurt. Two people will ensure that doesn’t happen.” Tim reached for his belt. “I’ll create a distraction, so Bruce and Damian can duck out. Can you take out the gunmen?”

“Piece of cake.”

“We really do appreciate you doing this,” Babs said in earnest.

Jason tried to avoid Bat business where he could. If they called on him, it was usually as a last resort like this. He always stepped up because, well, old habits die hard. He was still a Robin—somewhere deep down, even if no one else believed it.

If he managed to escape without speaking to Bruce, he’d consider it a successful night. They were going on three months without speaking, and he’d hate to break the streak tonight.

“Wait for my signal.”

“Wait. What sign—”

Tim had already vanished.

Jason grumbled and turned back to the window. “I hate when he does that.”

Babs chuckled. “Not a trait you picked up from B?”

“No.”

He peered through the glass and waited for the signal. Tim always had something up his sleeve, though he rarely saw fit to share it. Minutes passed—too many minutes given the gravity of the situation.

His fingers curled around the grip of his gun. “Robin.”

Silence.

A growl ripped from his throat. “Robin. Respond.”

Nothing.

He was a half-second away from breaking the glass to handle the situation himself when he heard a pop, followed by three more in rapid succession. Hairline fractures webbed along the ceiling.

“You know, I always hated this chandelier,” Tim finally said.

The crystal monstrosity at the center of the room shuddered before it plummeted to the ground, scattering crystal and glass across the expensive carpet. People dove to avoid it, including the Knuckle speaking with Bruce.

“FYI. That was your signal.”

Jason shouldered through the glass with one gun drawn, catching the closest Knuckle off-guard. His arm locked around his throat as the pair slid across the floor. He kicked the air as Jason applied a bit of pressure on his windpipe. A vein bulged along his forehead as he choked on a whimper. No matter how tough they looked, they always went down whimpering.

If he had more time, he would have waited for him to pass out, but alas. With a swift blow to the temple, the first guy was down for the count.

Two more went down just as quickly as the first. Jason turned to face their leader. Bruce had vanished, leaving Damian to tend to Oscar. Displeasure curled his lip as he applied pressure to Oscar’s wound. His face had gone from pale to ghostly in the span of a few minutes.

“A little far from your turf, eh, buddy?”

He trained his gun on Jason. “Oh, you know. A chance to expand into a new market presented itself and we couldn't say no to a decent payout. I figured an opportunist like yourself would appreciate that. You and I, we’re not so different.”

“You’re right,” he agreed as he raised his gun to mirror him, “I’m not, but unlike you, I’m not afraid to finish the job.”

“You wouldn’t shoot me. Not in front of all these people.”

He flipped his safety off. “Try me.”

“Hood. Stand down,” Babs hissed in his ear.

Jason tapped his comm off as he fingered the trigger. Every instinct told him to shoot the bastard dead. To be done with it and get the hell out of dodge. He strove to be better. Not good per se, but better.

Blood already stained his hands. What was a little more if it meant there was one less criminal plaguing the streets?

No one expected Red Hood to make the good choice, but he would make the right one. He was right. This was right.

Do it, the anger whispered, Be the difference you want to see in the world.

His hand trembled as he willed himself to pull the trigger.

A batarang clipped the man’s hand and he dropped his gun. He saw the cowl, a flutter of black, the reverent gasps as the Caped Crusader came to save the day.

His knees buckled. A hand fell over his, lowering the gun for him. “Easy there,” Tim said gently, “It’s over.”

Jason shrugged him off. “I’m fine.”

“Are you? Because you were about to—”

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped.

Tim held up his hands to concede. “I believe you.”

It didn’t sound that way. Jason flipped the safety back and shoved it in its holster.

Tim took a step towards him. He matched with one of his own to keep the distance between them. They stared at each other, the tension between them palpable. A siren blared in the distance.

Tim retreated and said, “You should get out of here before the first responders get here. B will be preoccupied for a while so you can slip out without him noticing.”

Several guests stared at him with fear in their eyes. His anger flared as he turned his back on them. Red Hood was a spectacle here—and not the good kind.

He would never be a hero.

Not really.

“Hey, hey. Come on. Wake up. We’re safe.”

A man with strawberry blonde hair knelt beside the downed server, speaking in a panicked whisper. His hands shook as he smoothed the hair from her face. His heart sank. Not just any face—yours.

Jason moved before he fully realized what he was doing. He sank to his knees, searching for bullet holes or blood. Your pulse fluttered beneath his fingers, and his shoulders sagged with relief. At least you were breathing.

“What happened?”

“She took a gun to the back of the head. It knocked her out co—”

The man stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape wide enough to catch flies. Jason rolled his eyes as he brushed his fingers over the back of your head. No lumps or blood, but you were in for a killer headache when you finally came to.

“A concussion probably. Does she have any family?”

“N-No family in the area. Not that I know of. She prefers to keep to herself.”

Yeah. Jason gathered that much about you.

If the paramedics got ahold of you, they’d take you in for overnight monitoring. The cost of an ambulance alone would cripple you, let alone the hospital bill. Sure, Bruce would pay for it like he paid for everything, but another charitable handout might rub you the wrong way.

Another stupid idea took shape in his mind. He’d likely regret it, but he needed a win. Nothing about tonight felt good, but there was still hope. “I’ll make sure the paramedics get a good look at her. Go and wait with the rest of the guests. The GCPD will want your statement.”

He stood, albeit reluctantly, and left to join the rest of the people congregating near the fireplace.

Your eyelids fluttered as Jason gathered you in his arms. He exited through the window he came in before anyone noticed. “You’ll thank me for this later.”

Probably.

Hopefully.

[phantomarine]

Hey what were you trying to say in your “it gets good at page 1001” post

Was it more of a comment directed at yourself ( self degradation), is it satire about perfectionism,

Is it supposed to be inspirational for Beginners webcomic creators, or we’re you just in a bad mood?

More of a warning against self-sabotage, because I see it so much. Sometimes it's tied to perfectionism, sometimes it's the opposite - people surrendering to imperfection when they don't really have to.

Creator chat incoming. I'll put it under the deelybob for anyone who wants to read it 👇

I've been in the webcomic sphere for several years now and I've seen so many people introduce their comic with 'I know it's very long and not easy to read, and I won't be going back and changing anything about what I've already made - but please critique it so I can make the rest of the pages better and attract a bigger audience from now on.'

And that's a hard thing to respond to. If a reader can't get through all those existing pages without being confused or bored, then how can they get to the good stuff that lies past them?

So much of gaining an audience is about actively making it easy to 'fall into' a work. Without that easy entry point, it's always going to be an uphill battle to build an audience, no matter how good the later chapters get. There are outliers, but most webcomics won't be those outliers, especially with thousands of them available nowadays. Some people love the grind, but most people will jump to a new tab and try to find something less frustrating.

And webcomic creation is particularly cursed by its very nature. Creators are hesitant to go back and edit pages, even once they've figured out more details about their craft or story structure. It's mostly because of the seeming permanence of it all - the art takes ages and the words feel unchangeable if even one other person has read them. To go back and edit is to publicly admit your failings, right? That's how it feels. What do you MEAN you didn't get it right the first time? You were supposed to do it live, and do it PERFECTLY!

But ideally it shouldn't be any different than prose writing, which is ALL ABOUT finding the story in those edits. And because your story is digital, you can go back and change things whenever you feel like it. A webcomic is fluid.

And if you're thinking 'I should just redraw my whole first chapter' - NO! Hell no, old art can be a part of the appeal! It's far more about finding little tricks to convey your story/characters more clearly. I have read some first chapters with janky art that made me fall completely in love with the story and cast. It's not about the art - as with all things comic-related, it's about conveyance.

Examples I've seen and some I've used myself: A single extra page with a meaningful interaction can solidify the theme of a character's arc. One additional 5-to-10-page scene can help add visual context for an offscreen event where there was none before. Adding a map can tell people where the characters currently are. Changing a character design can help if they get often confused with another character. Redoing your lettering to make it more legible is a huge one too.

In the end, I just don't want people to be afraid of small edits. When I got feedback about the bad clarity of my own work, I knew it would take some time to fix those problems. It wasn't fun to think about or to do, but I'm glad I did it in the end - because it would have limited my audience tremendously. With just a bit of extra effort, I opened a door that wasn't there before, and it now leads more people even more easily to 'the good stuff.'

tl;dr You started your webcomic for a reason, and you're learning more things about its characters, story, and craft every day. Don't be afraid to go back to old pages and inject some of that wisdom through editing. Even a little can go a long way.

***Caveat: If your goal is to just create chaotically, with no goal of gaining an audience, you are a wild and free little thing, and I am in awe of you. This whole rant doesn't apply to you, and you are stronger than me.

[blythsholland]

I’ll take care of you

Pairing: Peacekeeper!Coriolanus snow x female!reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of blood, injuries, fighting but nothing too descriptive, alcohol consumption. use of she/her pronouns.

WC: 2.2K

Summary: An injured Coriolanus arrives at your door in the middle of the night.

AN: Here it finally is. Sorry for not posting sooner. This is my last ever semester of college and I’ve been quite busy. Hope you enjoy! <3 Let’s pretend the events of part 3 of tbsosas don’t happen. Sejanus is still alive, Lucy Gray is not a mystery. Coryo actually likes his life in District 12.

Masterlist

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Moving to District 12 was not as bad as Coriolanus had expected it. Sure, he asked to be sent to twelve to be closer to Lucy Gray. But he did not expect to encounter you instead. You were a pure soul, the sunshine on a cloudy day. The first time he saw you, it was like love at first sight. You were only helping an older lady in the market, but he was captivated by you. Since that moment, Lucy Gray had left his mind, only being occupied by you.

Sejanus had noticed Coryo's gaze. He knew his friend was infatuated. And it certainly took a lot of convincing and courage for Coryo to talk to you.

"You should go and talk to her. I can see that lovestruck gaze from a mile away."

"I don't know Sejanus. What if I make a fool of myself in front of her?"

"Coriolanus Snow, you are the smartest guy I know. I assure you, everything will go smoothly. Now go."

And he did. He walked over towards you without an idea of what to say. Nor even how to talk to you. But he did, and he was glad Sejanus made him go. Meeting you was the start of something that would become more.

His visits to the market became frequent. He would buy stuff, but the main reason was to see you. Eventually, both of you started a small friendship, oblivious to the lingering feelings both had for each other.

“Hi Sir, what brings you in today?”

“You know I don’t like it when you call me Sir. Coryo is just fine.”

A chuckle left your lips. “I know. I am just trying to be professional. I take it you are here for those apples from last time.”

“They are delicious, what can I say?” He took a bite from an apple, giving you a wink. The blush creeping on your cheeks made him smile. “Are you free tonight? I heard The Covey are performing.”

"Why? Are you going to ask me on a date?"

"Actually, yes. I have been finding the courage to do it recently." He confessed. And it was true. You made him nervous, something he never really felt before.

“Coriolanus Snow, a peacekeeper, needing to find courage? I don’t believe you.”

“Well, when you have the most beautiful woman in front of you, it’s easy to get nervous.”

“That was smooth.” A giggle escaped you. Compliments towards you were a rare thing. But you could not lie. It made you feel something. You have been waiting for him to ask you out for a while. “I would love to go with you…” You hesitated.

“But?”

“But not tonight. I am sorry Coryo.”

You moved to help a client with their products, leaving Coriolanus there. He was confused as to why you had said no. He waited until the client left and walked to you again.

“Can I have a reason why? You seemed happy about it.”

“Believe me Coryo, I am happy. I have been waiting for you to ask me. But not tonight. My grandma has been ill for the last few days. And I need to take care of her.” You explained.

And it was true. It had been a hard few days. You had been working because you made a deal with your cousin. He agreed to take care of her only if you give him a percentage of the earnings you gained at the market. Earnings that he would get drunk on, no less. But it was something, at least.

“But you should go still! Enjoy a nice evening with Sejanus and the rest of the boys. We will have our date at another time. I promise.”

He delicately placed his hand under your chin, gently lifting your face. His gaze lingered on you, admiring your beauty. "I will hold on to that promise." His lips met your cheek, placing a soft kiss before he walked away, leaving you there, a blushing mess.

***

The Hob was crowded. It was mostly district men and Peacekeepers everywhere. They were there to get drunk, dance, or find a woman for the night. And Coryo was glad you were not there with him. For some reason, the place felt tense tonight, as if something were to happen.

Coryo and Sejanus sat down just as Maude Ivory came to the mic to introduce Lucy Gray. Everyone erupted in cheers the moment she came on stage. It was clear everyone loved her. It made Coriolanus proud. Cheating on the games might have gotten him to be a Peacekeeper but he did not regret it. Lucy Gray was back where she belonged.

"Good Night, everybody! I hope everyone is having a good time. We are The Covey! Now grab a drink, grab your partner, dance, and enjoy."

The music started. Everyone started dancing. The Covey brought a joy that made people forget about their problems; life in District 12 was good, and nothing else mattered. Coryo and Sejanus were drinking and enjoying the music until they didn't.

Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray ex-boyfriend, walked in. He was drunk, ignoring Mayfair, the Majors daughter, who was trailing behind him. They were arguing. She was questioning him, while he just ignored her. And it continued until Billy Taupe reached the stage where Lucy Gray was. He tried to touch Lucy Gray when Mayfair stopped him. This action made Billy push Mayfair away, causing chaos to erupt.

Men started picking fights while others started circling Billy, clearly mad at what he did. Instead, he ignored them, going back for Lucy Gray. And then, a sudden punch landed on his face. It was Coriolanus. He had been watching the scene unfold carefully. His feet took him there without processing what was happening. He wanted to protect Lucy Gray. Billy's fist landed on Coryo's nose, making him stumble. He had surprisingly hit back even in his drunken state. Coryo felt a rush of blood fall from his nostrils. The faint taste of blood on his lip let him know he also had a cut. This just made Coryo's fists land back on Billy's face. Three consecutive punches landed on his face until someone pulled back Coryo. It was Sejanus.

"Let's go Coriolanus. We cannot get in trouble." And so they ran, leaving the place. Once they were far enough from The Hob, they stopped running. Finally catching their breath, a laugh escaped both of them.

“Who would have thought I had to save your ass this time? Billy got you pretty badly.”

"Fuck off." A chuckle left Coryo, reminiscing back how he was the one to save Sejanus during the games. “I guess we are even now.”

The blood had started to dry. His face was hurting. He could not go back to the barracks in that state. They would question what had happened, and Coryo didn’t want anyone to know. He also didn't want to create more chaos. He had hoped that if other peacekeepers saw him, they would cover-up. Or that maybe they were too drunk to remember what had happened.

“I cannot go back like this, Sejanus. I don’t want them asking questions.”

“And where are you going to go? We can come up with something and lie. Tell them you stumbled over something and fell.”

Sejanus was right. They could make up a lie and get over with it. But something in Coriolanus did not want to do that. “I don’t want to lie this time. Cover for me. Tell them I'm not feeling well, that I went to sleep early. I don’t know.”

“And where are you going?”

“I think you have a clear idea.”

***

It was probably past midnight. Your grandma was fast asleep in her room. You, on the other hand, tried to sleep. Something did not feel right, as if something had gone wrong. Your cousin was somewhere doing who knows what, and you hoped he was not in trouble.

A sudden knock on the front door startled you. Confusion took over you, wondering who might be at this time of the night. You put on your nightrobe and took careful steps to the front door. While preparing for the worst, your mind drifted to your cousin. There was the possibility of him getting taken by a peacekeeper for causing trouble. However, when you opened the door, you were surprised by what you saw.

Coryo stood in front of your door. Blood dried up on both his nose and lips. His nose already had a bruise forming. His bottom lip had a cut on it.

“Coryo? Oh god, what happened?! Get inside.”

Doing as told, he entered. Your home was lovely for what it was. He had seen you outside a few times and even greeted you once, so he knew by now where you lived. He followed you carefully towards your bedroom, mindful of your sleeping grandma.

Your mind was going through every possible scenario. Something had gone down at The Hob. Part of you also wondered if your cousin was behind it. Coryo sat in your bed after you told him to. He waited until you came back with some medical supplies. It was limited. You would only use them if they were necessary. Not that Coryo needed a lot of it, to be honest.

“This is not a lot but is going to make you look better. Now, tell me what happened.”

And so he did. He told you everything from the beginning. What Billy Taupe did to Mayfair, what he tried to do with Lucy Gray, and how Coryo got there before Billy tried something.

“I am happy you defended Lucy Gray. That guy is an ass. I hate that my cousin is friends with him. And I bet that is why my cousin is the way he is. Though I am not thrilled he got his fists on your gorgeous face.”

A hiss left Coryo's lips at the sudden contact with the alcohol.

“Sorry. I should’ve mentioned it was going to sting a bit.”

“Don’t worry, angel.”

Coryo was entranced with you. The candle illuminating the room made you look so angelic. He could not believe that such beauty stood in front of him. He had no doubts. He was falling in love with you. You noticed his gaze on you. Those blue eyes of his filled with love and admiration for you. Your heart was racing just by being so close to him. It felt intimate. And it did not help the growing feelings for him. You were also falling in love.

“And done. You are all better now. ”

You were about to leave and put the medical supplies back when Coryo's hand grabbed yours, stopping you.

"Coryo, what are you-" Your breath hitched as Coryo placed a small kiss in the palm of your hand. Your heart started racing at the action, so sweet and so delicate.

"Thank you, angel."

"Anytime. I'll take care of you whenever you need me to."

Coryo got on his feet and stood in front of you. He pulled you closer to him, leaving little to no space between the both of you. It was as if time stopped. There, in your small room, your eyes never left each other. Slowly, his hand took hold of your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb. His gaze lingered on your lips. He needed to kiss you.

"Can I kiss you, love?"

Too entranced by him to utter a word, you just nodded yes. Warmth blossomed in your chest, and butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You could feel your heart pumping as he closed his eyes and leaned in. His other hand went to your cheek while yours rested on his shoulders. Coryo's lips caught yours in a soft kiss at first, and it did not take long before you kissed back. You felt giddy. You had wanted to kiss him for so long, and it was finally happening. His lips were soft against yours. It was electrifying. Your lips parted slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue. The soft kiss soon turned hungry. Coryo could not get enough of you. Your lips were too addictive. Needing a moment to catch their breath, they ended the kiss in a delicate one. He leaned his forehead against yours, a big grin on his face.

"I wanted to kiss you for so long. I really like you." He confessed, and it was true. He felt things for you he hadn't felt before. And it was scary yet exciting.

"Want to know a secret? I am happy you did. I wanted to kiss you too, Coryo." You took his hand still on your cheek and pressed your lips against it. " I really like you too. I have for a while."

And there you were, smiling at each other, happy that feelings were mutual. Coryo leaned in again until his lips brushed yours in a soft kiss. He wanted to kiss you all night long and even stay the night, but he couldn’t. At least not yet.

"I need to go now, and sneak in but about that date... you still own me one."

A giggle escaped from you. "I know I do. I did not forget. How about you and me, tomorrow at the lake at four o'clock?"

"It's a date."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tags: @gracieroxzy @vivi-wtz @jefferson-in-the-tardis @phoward89 @cxp1d @loverandqueenofdragons @acidaciruela @astarborntowrite

(the ones that aren't tagged is because for some reason it didn't let me tag you)

[egg-emperor]

something unfortunate is a majority of people you know who somewhat regularly create Eggman stuff likely don't like me much or outright despise me for various different reasons. I'm on a mutual block with most of them too

whether it's due to me asking for credit for stuff I made (which takes extra effort with my disability and they know this), my character opinions on Eggman, the way I like to analyze and educate on his game portrayal, my headcanons and preferences, my interest and exploration of his evilness, the ways I will and won't ship him, various kinks I involve him in, etc

people also try to tell people I'm a nasty asshole over misinformation about game Eggman or different headcanons but I think those who read into my blog will see I'm never attacking people and I certainly don't in more private places like chats. I think I'm chill but misread a lot because I'm bold and passionate unapologetically

and that's usually something played up to further steer people from interacting with me too as a bunch want me isolated. if you don't like what someone is saying just for having a different opinion, you can just say they were mean about it and people will believe it, that's their tactic

and more recently it's me not addressing current real life events on my blog about Eggman because I've never commented on any since I started posting about him online over 10 years ago. but now more recent fans who don't know how far back this goes have been taking me doing what I've always done as meaning things they don't unfortunately

it's frustrating that as someone who has been an Eggman fan for almost 20 years remembers what it's like to be one of the like 3 Eggman fans while looking around for him online and eventually starting to make stuff yourself to be what you wanted to see in hopes of finding others someday-

to Eggman suddenly exploding in popularity because of Boom or the movies and then newer fans coming in and having a problem with you posting and acting the way you always did before. where you'd think I'd finally find community, I'm kicked out of the space I was in before them

I think some hold me to an impossible high standard to be everything they want to not ruin their idea of me and if I show I'm a real human with feelings, emotions, thoughts and opinions they might not like and agree with sometimes (over fictional things not even real life), they don't like me anymore but I'm not perfect, nobody is

it's fine for people to disagree with me or even dislike me but some then get very hostile and try to turn anyone against me they can, to the point even people who don't entirely hate me are hesitant to associate due to how people might view them for it and that's very frustrating

but I never joined the fandom to become popular. I know what it's like for people to genuinely find the idea of Eggman being sexy to anyone extremely weird and rare lol, it wasn't cool at all when I started, I was the only one I even knew who found him attractive for ages so I never expected fame :P

I realize I'm not the most liked fan for the ways I choose to boldly and openly express myself, how I don't sanitize myself, or lean into the ideal me that people would prefer, despite the full awareness in what would make people like me better. I'm determined to find my place as I am authentically

and I'm building a pretty nice little place for myself over here that's constantly changing in size from bigger to smaller with each uptick in controversy but overall it's becoming one of the most comfortable and chill places to express myself with wonderful followers, mutuals, and askers and I'm very grateful for that 💜

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

The improved behavioral modulator seems to be working.... well, with mixed results.

The Toy Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four (you are here)

Takes place after the Back to Skool Arc

But Before the GIR ARC

Master Post

Support me on Patreon to get updates early (i can't promise frequent udates)

Kofi

Boo! An update! under the cut for more personal stuff as you prob wonder why this au has been silent lately.

Hey, I know it's been awhile since you've seen me. Well, that's cause I've been holding onto this update for awhile. Since December of 2022.

There's a lot of reasons why I haven't posted this. Mostly to do with severe depression, and anxiety getting worse, and a major art complex on my shoulder.

Plus, fact of the matter is that I lost all of my notes for the Post-Florpus AU. Yeah. Every single one, cause I handwrote those notes and who knows where they are now. I had this huge thing for this little arc here planned, and cause my memory problems are getting worse, I don't remember the initial interactions I had planned for Zim and GIR that fit the major part of the story.

So this thing is very much in Hiatus and I haven't drawn most of 2023 I think. I still have one additional Post-Florpus comic I'm sitting on that I drew in 2019, but I hesitate uploading that one with no context to something I can't remember.

As always, this au is pretty personal to me, and while I am still working on FNAF stuff, I might come back to this officially one day.

But for now, I'll just give you some scraps I've been hoarding to myself for a full year.

The series is in Hiatus still, and I hope to find my joy of drawing again.

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚖 𝚁𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚜 -- 𝙰𝚄

William Rollins x Fem!Reader

◢ Genre: AU, Dark Fic, Smut, Plot Bunny — Suitable For Adults Only

◢ Warnings: darkfic, alternative universe, sexualization of a bad guy, toxic relationship, mentions of stalking behavior, manipulation, mentions of being institutionalized, mental health talk, keeping secrets, possessive!William, use of petname: kitten, exploring kink with William, body marking, knife kink, pain play, Dacryphilia (turned on by crying), katoptronophilia (sexual acts in front of mirrors), sexually recording the reader. Proceed with caution in case I missed something.

◢ A/N: This is an AU headcanon style fic list where William didn't die, but instead had been institutionalized for his behavior, and later released. It's based off William and his personality, though in a non-canon setting. Keep in mind, William is a psychopath, so don't always expect fluffy stuff with him. If you want a more direct x fem!reader insert with him based off this concept, let me know. Gif credit goes to myself.

◢ I do not consent to my work being post anywhere else.

The first time you had talked to William, it had been in a chat room.

Old habits die hard, and the internet has progressed so much.

You wanted to vent to a stranger about life and he was willing to listen.

He's charismatic, knowing exactly what to say to make you feel like you are on top of the world.

It was his way of learning you. He wanted to know what made you tick.

You found yourself confiding in him, telling him your secrets, fears, and insecurities.

Naturally, he knew how to use these things to his advantage.

To make sure you trusted him back, he started to confide in you.

But not the whole truth.

He's only told you bits and pieces of things.

Like that his mental health had declined as a teenager.

That he ended up institutionalized because of it.

It was just enough to make you feel sorry for him.

But not so much so that it would scare you away from him.

And it was likely a little warped in perspective.

That doesn't matter to him, so long as he has you at this point.

As far as you know, he's okay now and you are the reason he keeps going.

And that might not be a whole lie, he's actually become rather attached to you.

Maybe more so than you realize.

Dangerously so.

You might even have some darker things in common.

Which, if you do, he's going to find out one way or another.

After establishing yourselves, you finally agree to meet.

When you first met William, he had come off as perfect.

He flashed you that charming smile and batted the lashes on those pretty blue eyes which naturally caused you to bring your guard down.

He makes you feel safe, wanted, desired.

He's forward, but not overly so.

It's his way of testing the waters a little more.

But when you let him, he gives you these soft and sweet kisses.

The kind where his lips hover over yours after, and he simply smiles against them before he kisses you again.

You are his now.

He has his claws in you, and has no intention of letting go.

But being away from you doesn't exactly sit well with him.

He starts to keep an eye on your social media. He watches where you post from or what you are posting.

He checks on who you are talking to and who interacts with your page.

If he feels that someone is getting a little too close to what is his, William won't hesitate to make his presence known.

He'll leave little comments here or there to show you that he's paying attention.

At first, it's not going to come off overly possessive, but as time goes on it will start to become more clear in his wording that 'what's his, is his.'

Depending on the type of girl you are, this is either good or bad.

It will either turn you on, or it won't.

Let's assume that it does.

You like feeling that sense of being desired so badly.

In a way, he makes you crave it.

Even through a screen, this man a way of making you feel different things and deep emotions.

But with that being said, he has a way of convincing you of things.

Be it, he's trying to get you to change your opinion about something or someone.

Or he's trying to convince you to do something.

It doesn't take too much at times, and he's able to have you doing things that you don't quite realize is bad right off the bat.

You are blinded by love to really notice the bigger picture.

But even than, you might not care.

You might accept him for how he is.

And depending on the type of friends or family you might have, they could see right through him.

There will be people that will try and warn you about him, but that doesn't mean you will listen.

And if he keeps having it his way, he'd prefer it if you didn't listen to them.

"They are full of shit, Kitten. I'm always doing what's best for you. What's best for us."

Eventually you find yourself defending him at times.

His own little shield that he will head-pat and tell you that you're a good girl.

Eventually things will start to sexually escalate.

It had been a mutual starting on both parts, with some light flirting texts that headed into a round of sexting.

Which had left both of you craving more and it starts to become an almost daily thing until you see each other again.

You can rest assured that the first moment you got the chance, clothes were stripped off and William was pressing himself roughly into you.

He learns what gets you wet. Be it fast or slow, a little bit of both.

He'll get a little dirty in his language if he knows it's going to make you tighter around him.

And he's a moaner.

Soft at first, but the more he presses and the closer he gets, the louder he can get.

"Fuck! Kitten you feel so good."

"Keep going Kitten, you're gonna make me cum."

"That's my girl."

If you're the kinky type, William is willing to explore.

He may have a particular fondness for more edgeplay related kinks.

He would also enjoy marking your body.

Hicky marks in various spots.

Maybe he'd drag a knife against your skin from time to time. Leaving little cuts here and there.

The more things continue the more he develops an enjoyment of pain play.

Be it spankings or simply manhandling you, William knows that you belong to him and he will use you as he pleases.

If he can make you cry during this, he gets even more turned on.

There is something about seeing you in that moment of being particularly vulnerable that he enjoys.

There is added bonus if you happen to have a full body mirror around.

He likes to watch himself with you, and he particularly enjoys watching you.

This will eventually progress into him wanting to record you.

Even if he isn't involved in what you are doing.

He'll get you to play with yourself and it won't be long before his phone is out and pointed right at you.

He'll take pictures of you while you're naked. He'll even take pictures of you when you aren't even aware of it.

The stalking, no matter how long you are together, it won't stop. Which means, some of those photos are of you through out the day, or on your video calls with him.

He actually starts to enjoy the type of control that he has over you.

It's a different type of control than what he's used to having over people. But it's satisfying in it's own way.

This doesn't mean he stops manipulating you, or others at that. He wouldn't be William if he didn't try and manipulate you, or those around you.

----------------------------------------------

May consider doing a part two and expand on this more. I'm not sure yet. Tagging: @voxmortuus @earth-elemental18 @bettytaylorversion @liveandbreathesmut

[venbetta]

Okay, regarding the last post/ask, there's a part of me that worries for internet safety in recent times, because it's very easy to become a victim of hacking, doxxing, or in more extreme cases, actual harm (grooming, stalking, etc.).

Not to age myself (and others) but there was a time in school where teachers would show us videos and presentations of the dangers of lacking online literacy/safety. Net safety videos were a stable of my childhood and many others, and most of those videos discussed the following:

Do not post personal information about yourself online

Do not interact with people you don't know

Do not meet people you met online in real life

The effects of cyberbullying

Those were the basic stuff. There was a lot more to take away from them

And those videos were scary. That was the point of them. I think about them less now, but it stuck. Because it can happen. And it has happened.

That's why I'm worried and a little taken aback about the lack of understanding of safety and knowledge of the current internet user base. I know that kids and teenagers use the internet, it's nothing new at all. But they're not being taught how to be safe or use common sense!

At least not in a way that I'm aware of.

If they are being taught, it's either not taught well or it's not being retained. Either way, it's clear that it's not being implemented.

And yeah most of those rules above are broken almost immediately, because we as people have gotten too comfortable with posting and sharing our intimate lives publicly. Our ages, our genders, our dating status, our home state. I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't acknowledge that, yeah, I also have some of that info in my bios!

However, some make the mistake of including very sensitive information such as their state, town, school, and worst of all their face!

Even if you don't do it intentionally, whether your posting on tiktok or whatever, if you have your state flag in the background of a video with your school logo just barely showing, someone with enough time and effort will figure out where you are. It's been shown in not only those tiktoks doxxing people but in those old net safety videos, too!

If this is scaring you, that's the point. That's what those net safety videos did. And sure, you'll forget about the rules and get comfortable with providing that info... I know most of us have, but it's up to you to keep yourself safe as much as possible.

With the state of the internet now, it's imperative to have an understanding of what the dangers are. Especially with ai in the mix. That's why I'm hesitant to even post my selfies anymore (Fuck Instagram for their ai scraping feature). It's because of what people might do. It's anxiety inducing. And that's why I'm making it a point to just be mindful as to what you do when you're online.

Don't join spaces that might have people that may take advantage of your naivety (I'm talking to kids and teenagers). If you find yourself in a space with someone or a group that makes you uncomfortable, leave. If they threaten or coax you to stay, follow your gut instinct and leave. Do not communicate with anyone who makes you uncomfortable. If it feels to be too much, tell a trusted friend or adult who can help you get out of the situation.

Don't post your current location. Don't post your school or work. Don't post your face if you can help it. Don't click on random links from people you don't know, even if they're offering free robux or nitro. It's a scam!

And before anyone makes a comment demeaning those for not knowing these scams or basic net safety, get over yourself. People who don't know either were never taught to look out for those things or never encountered such things.

People of all ages fall for scams regardless of what it is, kids to old people who aren't tech savvy. It's in our interest to teach people these things so that they can protect themselves. It doesn't make us better for knowing something and then shaming others for not.

Just be safe out there.

[fanfictionalraven]

Piece by Piece Pt. 11

Title: Piece By Piece Pt. 11

Summary: The apocalypse draws near.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, Original Characters, other SPN canon characters

Word Count: 2,550

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and peril

Author’s Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 10 here.

Dean paces across the room Zachariah had stuck him in. He’d lost track of how long he’d been here and he was past mad now. The angels had tricked him, leading him down a path to jump start the apocalypse. He picks up one of the bottles of beer Zachariah had left for him and throws it at the wall.

“Now Dean, that’s the good stuff. Don’t waste it,” Zachariah says, having suddenly appeared in the room. Dean turns on him with a glare. “I see I made you the wrong offer earlier. Ginger and Mary Anne. Not your type anymore. No, you have a more particular taste now.” Dean’s hands tighten into fists at his sides as a smirk spreads across Zachariah’s face.

“Leave her out of this,” he practically growls. Zachariah lets out a sadistic chuckle before merely snapping his fingers.

************************************************************************

“M.K., you have to eat, Sweetie,” you say, kneeling down next to the chair your daughter is currently occupying. She’s sulking over her plate like she did every day. It had been a month and a half since you’d left Dean and she hadn’t forgiven you yet. You hadn’t forgiven yourself yet.

“I’m not hungry,” she mumbles quietly. You sigh and rise to your feet, knowing she’d eat when she wanted to. You run a hand over your stomach as you walk across the kitchen. You were just starting to show, that adorable little baby bump just visible under your shirt. You wanted Dean to be able to see it. You wanted him to be there when you found out what the two of you were having. You wanted him to feel the first kicks. But you’d left and he hadn’t tried to chase you.

“Momma,” M.K. says, fear in her voice. You turn and look at her quickly, finding a strange man standing near the table. Your eyes widen and you hold a hand out for M.K. She runs and stands behind you, peeking around you at the stranger.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he says. “Only to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” You ask before glancing around the kitchen. The man smiles what you’re sure is supposed to be a reassuring smile.

“You can’t fight me, Y/N,” he says. It was a fact you were already sure of. He definitely wasn’t human and even if he was you didn’t stand a chance.

“Where are you taking us?” You ask again. You were trying to stall and he could tell. He takes a step towards you now and you frown.

“I can’t tell you that. Let’s not do this the hard way, hmmm? Just take my hand,” he tells you, holding his hand out now. “For your children, Y/N.”

“What are you?” You ask, watching him as he takes another step towards the two of you. He smiles again.

“An angel,” he says before reaching out and grabbing your arm.

You blink and find yourself in a new room, M.K. still clinging to your leg. The angel who had brought you, lets go of your arm as you look around. Another angel, one you recognize from the three months you’d spent living with Dean, is smiling at you. Standing between you and him, his back turned towards you, is Dean. His fists are clenched at his sides.

“Thank you, Malachi,” Zachariah says to the other angel. He nods once then disappears. M.K. peeks around you and her eyes widen.

“Daddy??” She asks. You watch as Dean’s shoulders fall and he hangs his head in defeat. He turns slowly and smiles at her, a sadness in his eyes.

“Hey, Baby Girl,” he says. The tears overwhelm her as she runs to his waiting arms. He lifts her up into a tight hug and kisses her temple before locking eyes with you. You bite your lip and he shifts M.K. to one side, holding his other arm open for you. You don’t even hesitate as you rush into his arm, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry,” Dean whispers, kissing your hair.

“I do love a happy reunion,” Zachariah says. Dean’s grip on both of you tightens before he lets you go. He sets M.K. down next to you then turns back to the angel, standing in front of you two protectively.

“Take them home and leave them alone,” he demands. Zachariah smiles and shakes his head.

“That really what you want Dean? I mean, it’s Apocalypse Now. Wouldn’t you rather they be here, protected?” He asks. Dean sets his jaw and closes his eyes for a moment. “You know what? I’ll give you some time alone to talk things over. Go check on my ticking time bomb.” In the blink of an eye, Zachariah disappears. The three of you stand there, silently, for what feels like an eternity. Dean runs his hands over his face then turns to face the two of you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was just trying to keep you safe. I never wanted you to be involved with this,” he tells you, his eyes avoiding yours. You step forward and take his face in your hands.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out,” you assure him. He shakes his head slightly.

“This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let this happen. I shoulda kept my distance and not fallen in love with you and M.K. I shoulda left town and never looked –” You cut him off with a quick kiss. He smiles a little as you pull away. “What was that for?” He asks.

“We love you too,” you tell him. He smiles wider and wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. Holding you close, he presses a quick kiss to your hair.

“I’m gonna get us out of this. I swear,” he says. You nod and pull away from him. He reaches down and places a hand over the tiny bump. For a moment, you think he’s going to cry. He looks back up at you quickly. “Cas,” he calls out. He steps away from you and looks up at the ceiling. “Cas!!”

“What is it, Dean?” Cas asks, suddenly appearing. His eyes land on you and M.K. and he frowns. “What are they doing here?”

“Zachariah brought them,” Dean tells him. Cas shakes his head slowly.

“No, he swore he would leave them out of this. Dean, I’m sorry,” he says. Dean nods slightly, taking a step towards Cas.

“Seems like ol’ Zach can’t exactly be trusted,” he says, his voice dropping low. M.K. reaches up, clasping your hand. You smile down at her reassuringly and run your other hand over your stomach. “Help me end this, Cas. Help me save my family. Get me to Sam. We can stop this before it’s too late. You know where he is?” Cas shakes his head.

“No. But I know someone who does. We’ll have to stop Sam from killing Lilith,” he tells him. Dean frowns and raises an eyebrow in question.

“I thought Lilith was going to break the last seal,” he says. Cas merely shakes his head again, walking over to you and M.K.

“Lilith is the last seal,” he tells him. “Did they hurt you?” He asks. You smile at him and shake your head quickly.

“No, we’re fine,” you tell him. He nods and looks back at Dean now.

“If we attempt to leave, they’ll follow us,” he says. Dean nods and looks around the room, thinking.

“You go find out where Sam is. Come back. Send me there and get them to Bobby’s,” he says, pointing to you and M.K. He looks at you and you nod in agreement, knowing you’ll be safer there. Cas nods once then disappears in the next second. Dean runs his hands over his face.

“Bobby has a panic room. It’s heavily warded. They shouldn’t be able to get you there,” he says. You let go of M.K.’s hand and walk over to Dean. He looks at you now and you glance back at her before dropping your voice low.

“I’m not gonna lie, Dean. I’m scared to death,” you tell him. He frowns and pulls you into his arms quickly.

“I know. I am too. But I’m gonna end this. I just have to get to Sam in time,” he whispers into your hair. You nod and squeeze him slightly.

“Dean,” Cas says, having reappeared. Letting him go, you both turn to face him. “I spoke with Chuck. There’s still time. He did say we’re going – what was his phrase? ‘Off-script’ I believe.”

“Well, hopefully that’s a good thing. Can you handle Zachariah and the others?” He asks. Cas nods and Dean sighs, turning back to you now. He takes your hands in his and squeezes them. “We get this taken care of and, if you’ll still have me, I’m coming home. It’ll be the four of us. You, me, M.K., and our…”

“Son,” Cas says. You both look at him quickly and he nods. “You’re having a boy.” Dean looks back at you now, a big goofy grin on his face.

“A son,” he says. You smile widely and stand up on your toes, pressing your lips against his in a firm kiss.

“We’ll see you soon,” you tell him when you pull away. He nods and lets your hands go before turning to M.K. He wraps her up in a tight hug and kisses her hair. After setting her back down, she takes your hand again. He steps back next to Cas and looks at you both one last time.

“I love you. All three of you,” he says. You smile at him and nod.

“We love you too,” you assure him. Cas turns to him and presses two fingers to his forehead. Dean disappears. The angel rushes to your side now and takes your free hand in his.

“We have to hurry now,” he says. You nod quickly and blink before finding yourself in the middle of Bobby’s study. The old gruff man is sitting at his desk. He jumps up when he sees you all and M.K. smiles over at him.

“Grandpa Bobby!!” She exclaims, running around to him. Bobby continues to stare at you and Cas as he picks her up in his arms.

“What’s going on?” He asks. Cas shakes his head slightly.

“Y/N will explain,” he says before disappearing. You stare at the spot he had been then look back at Bobby.

“Dean said you had a panic room?” You ask. Bobby nods and leads the way down to the basement quickly. He opens the secured vault door and you all three step inside.

“What’s happening?” He asks as he sets M.K. down on the cot in the middle of the room. You sigh and run your hands over your face.

“I honestly don’t have much of an idea. Dean’s going to stop Sam from killing Lilith,” you tell him. Bobby frowns more.

“Stop him?” He asks. You nod quickly.

“Cas said that she’s the last seal. Whatever that means,” you say, panic coming through your voice. Bobby nods as he watches you then takes your arm gently.

“I think you need to sit down,” he says, leading you to the cot as well. You take a seat next to M.K. and she crawls into your lap. Your arms wrap around her tight as you start to rock back and forth.

“He can do this, right? He can stop Sam?” You ask, looking up at Bobby again. He shrugs his shoulders once.

“If anyone can talk Sam down, it’s Dean,” he says. You squeeze your eyes closed tight and hold on to your little girl as Bobby closes the door of the panic room.

************************************************************************

Dean looks around, trying to make out anything he can in the dark. Cas had sent him to the side of the road somewhere and he’s just starting to think Chuck was wrong when a car pulls over across the street. Dean can just make out the two figures that emerge from the vehicle, one his brother and the other the demon he’d been running around with.

Sam pulls his phone from his pocket as he walks away from the car. Ruby throws her arms out in exasperation as she stops near the trunk.

“Sam, it’s time. Are we doing this or not?” She calls to him. Sam looks back at her.

“Give me a minute to think,” he tells her. She rolls her eyes.

“Sam,” she starts but he cuts her off with a sharp glare.

“Give me a damn minute, Ruby!” He shouts to her. She holds her hands up in surrender then leans back against the car. Dean starts towards them quickly.

“Sam!!” He calls out. Both Sam and Ruby turn towards him. She lets out a growl.

“He’s here to stop us,” she says, looking back at Sam. Sam looks at her, conflicted, as Dean comes up beside the car. He stops when he hears the screams coming from the trunk and looks at his brother.

“You got someone in there?” He asks. Sam goes to answer but Ruby cuts him off.

“A demon. Not your concern,” she says, crossing her arms. Dean glares at her then looks back at his brother.

“Hey, Sammy. You gotta stop this, okay? Ruby’s lying to you. You kill Lilith and that’s the last seal. The apocalypse starts. The angels were lying to me too. They wanted this whole thing to happen. They want Armageddon,” he says. Sam’s brows furrow in confusion and he shakes his head slowly.

“That – that doesn’t…” He stops and Dean nods his head.

“Doesn’t make sense? Come on, Man. We’re trusting angels and demons over each other right now? We are all that each other have had our entire lives. Me and you, Sam. I need you to trust me right now. I’m sorry for that crap I said earlier, I am. Cause we’re family and there isn’t a damn thing that can change that,” he says. Ruby turns to Sam quickly.

“Don’t listen to him, Sam. We’re trying to save the world here. Remember all the pain that Lilith has caused? Sending Dean to Hell?” She asks. Sam watches Dean the entire time she speaks. The woman continues to scream and beat at the trunk, begging for mercy. Sam shakes his head slowly, closing his eyes. “Sam!!”

“Shut up!!” Sam says, pushing her away from him. She stumbles back a few steps then turns to face Dean, glaring at him.

“Oh, you son of a bitch,” she practically growls before taking a swing at him, making contact with his jaw. Dean runs a hand over the spot slowly then looks back at her.

“That was a mistake,” he says. He pulls the demon killing knife from the inside of his jacket and she scoffs a laugh.

“You really think I’m gonna let you get close enough to use that thing?” She asks, taking a step back. Sam grabs her arms quickly, holding her in place, and she looks up at him. “No,” she says, trying to fight out of his grasp. Dean advances on her quickly and plunges the knife into her gut. She lets out one last scream before Sam drops her dead body on the side of the road.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 12 here.

[creatortools]

New listeners?

I got two new listeners as well as a Intern doodle when he was younger and the one, the only…

KARMOR doodle hehehe

The full photo, info of my two new listeners, and a little ramble will be after the cut.

KAYNE AND RAZE IS FINALLY HERE! (I tried to draw Gienne and failed) Of course, the info I prove is most likely NOT CANON, this is just my interpretation/version of these two.

Kayne:

-He/They (Male)

-Probably in his twenties

-Half Chinese, half European.

-5’5 (Just an inch taller than Karmor)

-He loves his instant noodles (relatable) but hates garlic bread.

-Likes orange juice better than apple juice

-Extremely afraid of the stalker (Mad Crow? Idk if it’s still canon anymore.). He’s afraid that his stalker had broken out of captivity and is still following/stalking him.

-The feather that Loyal gave him is on his necklace. (I drew it there just pointing it out.)

-Sleepy man

-Very soft spoken, and very hesitant.

-Speaks English, of course.

-His birthday is on the 16th of December.

-Starting to forget himself.

————————————————

“…What…What else do I say? I-I don’t have much else to say, I…don’t know myself anymore? I can’t really explain it…I-I can’t remember?”

“…What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t…know…I’m sorry.”

“Can…you tell me more? Like where you lived before all of this, or…maybe the languages you know, or anything?”

“…Well…I like the colour green, is…that good enough? Im so sorry…I can’t remember anything else”

“Uhh, yes, I’ll write that down.”

————————————————

Raze:

-Any pronouns (Genderfluid)

-Unknown age? But their old I guess

-A half Bull hybrid space thing (new species alert?). Because why not and I think the connection I made to their mechanic bull Angel thing is cool.

-More than 6 feet tall, maybe around 7 feet max?

-In terms of food and drink, will try anything and like anything. He has no preferences really. It’s rare to find something he hates.

-Oblivious.

-Has four arms and a bull tail. Strong build.

-The star on her eye is like an eyepatch weapon kind of thing. She’s missing an eye on that side but she can use the star eyepatch thing like a ninja star.

-Can change their features slightly.

-Tolerates and also pities Makarro. Makarro reminds him of his late husband, while also reminding him of…himself almost.

-Gienne reminds her of herself of course. She’s very gentle towards Gienne.

-Wishes Zed for the best. They hope that Zed is doing well after they left.

-Not very trusting and can’t express his thoughts and feelings well. (Relatable)

-The mechanic bull is probably triple his height? Maybe? Idk but it’s huge.

-Can probably glance into other universes and worlds, and she probably knows of the other listeners’ existences even the ones from different creators and different audio creators (GBA, escaped, etc etc).

-Their birthday is the 5th of August.

I might add more info later idk probably not but as you can probably tell by now that I have my own lore of my own versions of the listeners. You guys can ask my listeners some questions about them (please 🙏), they will be happy to answer lol.

If you guys want, I might draw some comics showing lore (I doubt it but I really want to) or maybe doing some dedicated posts to my listeners’ own lore and stuff? I can’t really promise that I would, because of my school work lol.

I also can’t promise that my lore will be as good as full novel series and all the audio rp accounts like GBA, Escaped audios, etc. So please forgive me if my lore is kinda…eh…if I ever come up with a fully fleshed out character with lore beyond the actual series.

Sorry for the long post/ramble and my grammar mistakes my brain has been shut off for the week lol.

[maryawrites]

Sfumato - Chapter 9

The most confusing(?) timeskip in Sfumato. You will totally never guess who it is at the end of the chapter, because I'm obviously so clever and whatnot. My headphones weren't working while I was writing this so I was majorly off my game. God bless

Worst!Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Cis! Female Reader, Post DPAW

CW: religious themes and religious trauma, (Name) is horny as fuck for an indiscernible reason throughout this, ugly burning yearning in between mentions of dental trauma, traumatic brain injuries/concussions, like two mentions of blowing up someone's car, How Not To Handle Your Battered Friend, physical assault, referenced substance abuse, Take My Breath Away mentioned, the (Name) in this is a little horrible but that's what character development is for

Divider by @/saradika

 Lily watches me warily after I come back in. 

  “Hey.” She offers, her expression twisting from impartiality to confusion at my own expression. “Did you have to take a phone call?”

  “Yes. Did someone come in?” My voice sounds hollow and far away. 

  “Oh, yeah, yeah…. It wasn’t an issue, though. Don’t worry. Just… hey, is everything alright?” She lowers her voice, stepping closer to me as if to contain whatever’s infected me with a poor mood. My expression can't be that unsettling. I can’t look that poorly. 

  My voice feels like it’s reverberating in someone else’s chest as I respond. “It was nothing. Just family.”

  Lily watches me for a moment longer before leaning in, mumbling next to my ear. “Yeah. I get that. Family leaves you looking shell-shocked.”

  The grim understanding in her voice catches me off guard a little bit. I shouldn’t be surprised, though- she’s never mentioned being close to them, or at least knowing them. Maybe I should’ve assumed that she had her own issues.

  She’s so close that it’s actually uncomfortable. She gets close to me carelessly, not hesitating to let her breath brush over my skin. It’s too intimate. It makes me a little more afraid of her- how she can go from keeping me away by thirty feet to getting so close to me we’re almost touching. And how she never hesitates to do it. But I find myself too overwhelmed with everything else to work up the courage to push her away. 

  “I just want to be good. I’m tired of struggling with it.” I whisper, admitting it with an ease I didn’t think would ever be possible. Why does everyone always have to act like being good is the easiest thing in the world, like being happy just comes naturally to everyone? I’ll never be happy if I just keep struggling with myself like this. I just can’t manage. I can’t manage with work, or family, or my memories, or motherfucking Logan Howlett. I just want to be good. I just want to be perfect under God. I can’t be happy until I can manage. 

  Lily doesn’t even hesitate. “What can I do to help?”

  “Please let me come over after work.”

  Now, Lily does hesitate. She pauses for a moment so short yet long that I’m absolutely sure she’s going to reject me and my proposal. I’m so sure that it truly, honestly surprises me when she answers with “I’ll bring some stuff. We’ll spend the night at your place. But, (Name), what can I do?”

  Now, she really makes me think. There are plenty of things I could get, or things she could bring. But what do I need her to do?

  For the billionth time today, a quiet stretches between us that almost doesn’t feel thoughtful, just savoring. 

  “I don’t know. Just let being me be easier.” I say into the silent air between us, the faint clatter of the kitchen being the only thing disrupting it. 

  Lily hums in contemplation before nodding, and for the first time in days, I almost feel relieved. I know there’s good in me. I know I can be perfect. I’ve been working my entire life to be perfect. I just need to shut out all of the thoughts that aren’t good. I’m glad someone will finally make me shut up.

  “‘Kay. Where’s your apartment?”

-

  “Fuckin’- Cunt- Ass- Bitch-” I miss the days when people could string together proper vulgar insults instead of just stringing together curses. I think I took Wade for granted way too often, but I’ve grown a new appreciation for him in the last half second.

  But now might not be the best time for appreciating anyone’s linguistic abilities, because each of those words are being punctuated with a fist in my face. Granted, Dante is missing me half of the time, but it’s still not very pleasant. Not just because he keeps punching me, but because the road is right under my head, making the impacts worse, all while being hard just by itself. I think a hangover headache will be the least of my worries tomorrow. Today, technically. Maybe. What time is it? I kind of lost track of things after the car exploded. 

  Where did Lily go? After she tore the knife from his hand, she ran off. Does she think I’m right behind her? Is anyone in this situation sober?

  What really sells that this situation is a new personal low is that someone in the apartments above us is watching Top Gun at max volume, meaning that “Take My Breath Away” serenades us. Seriously, Hell cannot be that bad compared to this.

  “You fat- bitch- Just die, just die- Die- Fuck-” Through the hourglass I saw you, each time you slipped away.

  Oh, my God, why couldn’t I have had the sense just to get drunk and go to sleep like every other young woman living with a robust fear of God?

  Dante is shoved off of me seemingly out of nowhere- though, given how my ears are ringing and I’m a little blind at the moment, it probably wasn’t ‘out of nowhere’- by Lily, who threw herself against him, knocking them both to the ground on my right. It snaps me out of my trance, where I’d been having my equivalent of a twelve year old’s first sexual fantasy-  hallucinating that it was Logan himself who was beating my face in, though I have the suspicion that he wouldn’t have missed, nor would I be alive right now. It was incredibly erotic. The way my mind pictured his face scrunched up, and his teeth bared, his eyes bright with fury and hatred…. Am I smiling right now?

  If only for today, I am unafraid; Take my breath away.  

  Lily scrambles up, panting, hurrying to my side before yelping and taking a fast step back. “Holy shit,” She says, still visibly high despite her panicking. “You are so ugly.”

  All I manage to croak out is a meager “Help”. Lily hurries back to me, grabbing me by my sweater to pull me to my feet, though it takes an incredible amount of fighting from both of us. She hobbles away too quickly for me, resulting in her practically dragging me down the street like there isn’t an actively burning car in the background and a drunk guy fumbling around on the ground who she just body slammed. She pulls me along with quiet, panicked “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck”s falling from her mouth for several minutes, before she finally just shuts up and puts more effort into getting me away from what just happened.

  She yanks us into an empty alley, taking a shortcut through it to another street, then again, and again, and again, again, again….

  I’m so tired. Not in the angsty way, just… sleepy. I could sleep like a baby right now.

  “Lily,” I sigh tiredly, beginning to say something but losing all track of my thoughts when bloody saliva slips from my mouth, hitting Lily’s pant leg and dripping down to her shoes. I hear her inhale sharply before muttering under her breath, stumbling slightly. “You are so fucking lucky you look half-dead.”

  I groan eloquently in response, letting her continue on her personal Odyssey of trying to get back to my apartment building without being taken notice of by other people, or dropping me. We walk in that dragging silence for a long time, carefully confining ourselves to the shadows as the night air practically ravages my face. Even though I’m about five seconds from passing out and/or dying in my sleep, depending on how much God loves me, I still start to feel the odd form in my throat as we come up to my street. 

  “Lily.” I repeat, more intently, ignoring how the collar of my shirt gets drenched in blood from my nose and mouth, not to mention the impressive amount of saliva I’m producing. I don’t want to imagine what Wade would say about it if he were here.

  Lily either doesn’t hear me or ignores me, readjusting her grip to get a better hold around me, lugging me down the sidewalk towards my apartment building, now uncaring for the stares people are- rightfully- giving us. I guess it really is too late to care, isn’t it?

  “Lily.” I insist, slurring her name as my feet slap against the ground gracelessly, trying to help her. But, damn, my head hurts. It’s fucking destroying me.

  “What?” She snaps, keeping her eyes firmly forward and pinned on my building, apparently willing herself not to dump me onto the ground and head home by herself. I can imagine that she’ll beat me bloody again the moment I’m healed up from this. 

  “Tooth.”

  She scowls, glancing at my face briefly, her features screwing up in distaste and judgement. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tooth.” I say, just as helpfully as the time before it, my knees nearly giving up as I stare at her- by current comparison- much prettier face, a string of spit hanging from my busted lip. 

  “What are you saying right now?” Lily snaps, stopping in place to sneer, eyeing my face in exhausted irritation. I bet she’d be crying her heart out right now, being completely uncooperative if she was in my place, and yet I’d be ten times nicer than she’s being right now. That’s a horrible thing to think, isn't it? I mean, we did just commit arson and technically assault her newly ex-boyfriend, and I’m sure she’s scared, and tired, and coming down from whatever she took a few hours ago, but I’m in pain. I want to die, but I’m still doing my best to make it easier for her to help me. I wouldn’t be so mean to her, if the roles were switched. 

  “Tooth.” I repeat a final time before hacking up one of my teeth, letting it clatter against the sidewalk wetly, a fresh splash of crimson spit hitting the ground with it. Lily freezes up beside me, a small, strangled noise coming from the back of her throat. She’s practically as stiff as stone right now. I pull her out of her daze by rooting around my mouth with my tongue and spitting out a piece of a different tooth, the quiet cracking sound of me breaking it off finally breaking her.

  She dumps me onto the ground gracelessly, dry heaving and stumbling off to the side while I lie face down in my own mess. There aren’t many people on the street currently, thankfully, and when you live in a city like this one, people soaked in blood on the ground are a dime a dozen. I’m not worried. Actually, what I currently am is whining, whimpering pathetically as I roll over onto my back, my nose freshly busted from the fall, crackling as I try to breathe. 

  I think I once saw a guy piss on the wall about four feet away from me right now. God, if you can hear me, actually just kill me. It’s not me being melodramatic anymore. Kill me.

  “You are so gross!” Lily shouts from somewhere behind me between her retching, while I’m forced to lie on the ground and listen to the sound of her pacing, like my hair isn’t being dampened with my own fluids. However, I suppose I should be thankful- I’m thankful that the fluids matting my hair are the ones from my veins and mouth, and not anywhere else. 

  You know, the ground really isn’t that bad right now… I could totally go to sleep, just a little nap. It couldn’t hurt any. No, it could only have good effects. Oh, man….

  My attempt at nodding off is foiled cruelly by Lily, who’s made a one-eighty decision to quit keeping her distance and come get back at me face to face. She pulls up the edge of her shirt, pressing it to my face roughly. For a second I think she might be trying to kill me, which shouldn’t alarm me as little as it does, but my worries are dissolved when she drags her hand downwards, wiping my face off harshly. It hurts. A lot. I push at her, trying to knock off her hands, but she keeps working at my face, mopping up what she can with gritted teeth. I didn’t know she was so squeamish about blood. I figured she’d be desensitized to it, since she seems to be desensitized to everything else in the world. At least I know I’m stronger than her in something. 

  “Quit fucking moving,” She hisses. “We’re, like, one building away from your apartment, and I don’t want anyone overhearing your slow-motion dying.”

  My attempted protest is muffled by her dragging her bare hand across my face, smearing most of the blood and further making my entire face hurt. 

  Eventually she seems to sate herself on my suffering, standing up and taking a hold of the front of my sweater. I expect her to help me to my feet, but apparently even that is too much to ask for tonight. 

  So, I find myself being dragged down the sidewalk in the most literal sense, nearly getting my pants dragged down my hips from the ground clinging to me, trying to make my night somehow worse. 

  And, somehow, my night does get worse, because when we get to my building, Lily makes the executive decision to switch her grip up, maneuvering me around to grip my wrists, yanking me behind to hurry through the lobby and to the stairs. Now, I start to think, I want to die. I need to die. It isn’t funny anymore, I would genuinely rather die than do this. And It can’t get worse than this. I don’t get either of my wishes, because I soon find myself being dragged up the stairs by my very loving and beautiful coworker by my wrists.

  I wonder what Logan is doing right now. Something cool, I bet. Like sleeping. Or anything. Because anything is cool when he’s doing it. But sleeping sounds especially cool right now. I wonder what he looks like while he’s sleeping- does he always look as frustrated as he does when I see him, or is he peaceful? Does his face turn blank and soft, nestled into a pillow? I wonder what he dreams about when he sleeps, or if he dreams at all. I want to see him like that. I wish I could. I really, really wish I could see him like that. I want to see the hard lines of his face soft, and trace them tenderly. I don’t know what he dreams of, but I tend to dream of him.

  My body goes slack and distant at my thoughts, lulling me as my body is dragged up the flight of stairs, Lily’s cursing and worrying sounding miles away. I could fall asleep like this. And I think I really might, before the ground levels out and I’m dragged a few moments more before she drops my arms, bending down over me to feel me up, searching for my keys. She huffs in satisfaction as she shucks them from my pocket, standing up to unlock my door too casually, like I’m not beaten and half-conscious on the floor. I spit out some blood and spit defiantly, just to dirty the hallway, not that she seems to notice at all. She seems so preoccupied with her own thoughts. I know what’s troubling her, but I say something, anyway.

  “Lily?”

  “What?”

  “It’ll be okay.”

  She doesn’t respond, focusing on the lock as she tests out keys, trying to find the right fit and steady her shaking hands. I hope she heard me right. I’ve been slurring my words.

  I turn my head back to the ceiling, staring at the lights glaring down at me. If I wasn’t such a coward, and if my guilt wasn’t so awkward, I would tell Logan that I am sorry. I’m sorry I nearly disrespected both of us with everything that nearly, could’ve, would’ve happened, but I know I wouldn’t ever actually say it. “I am sorry I loved you tender and raw, and was drowned under a flood of my own want. But every time I reached for you, my fingertips came back burnt.” But I think I’d sooner rather tear out my stupid heart than tell him anything like that. I would never say that if I got the chance, I’d pull him in so deeply that he’d melt into me.

  I smile dumbly up at the light, snickering to myself inaudibly, only to burst into a hushed coughing fit. Nothing I just thought was funny. Nothing about this situation is funny, other than how quickly things went wrong, and how I let them. What am I doing with my life? I just keep making my load heavier, and I know I’m not strong enough to carry it. Lily will run the moment my knees buckle, I realize that now. But she’s here, for now, and that’s quite a lot to be grateful for, in my world. 

  A floorboard to the left of me squeaks, and I turn my head the slightest bit, squinting through the light bearing down on me, and the shadow the figure above me casts, obscuring my already muddled sight. I wonder if Lily has noticed yet. 

  I conclude she has not noticed our third party, and finally close my eyes, falling asleep, like anyone logical would in the situation I’m in. 

[liquid-bonhomme]

Thanks for burying any serious posts about the allegations against Lily under a bunch of stupid wojaks, I’m sure she appreciates your blog for making discussions about the harm she caused harder to find and turning the whole conversation around them into a big joke.

1. I'm not. Users who have much more reach than me show up in search before I do. I realize I show up a lot, but.

2. I've signal boosted important discussions as much as I can. I've even spoken at length about a lot of them myself. Again, though, I've got limited reach.

3. A lot more people are primarily focused on those discussions. One more blog doing that won't change much.

4. Babes, I'm sorry, but you gotta understand that though, serious discussion is important, those of you who think you're going to "bring down" Lily, it's not going to happen. Lily is likely never going to be arrested for Stockholm, for this or that, for whatever. The thing Lily has the best chance (though it's also rather unlikely) of getting Lily arrested in the Canadian legal system would involve asking a certain person to do something they would have already done if they felt up to it. And I don't blame them for not wanting to put themselves through that humiliation for possibly nothing to come of it. As a victim of similar violence-- me too, frankly.

5. The reality is that trans people, women especially, are FALSELY accused of this kind of stuff constantly, especially on the internet. When I heard of Lily for the first time (this was years ago, mind you), I didn't like her. But I was hesitant to believe every single claim about her myself at first because I know the internet is like. If I hadn't dug deeper to find Lizzy and Brit's testimony, I would have assumed these were people targeting a trans woman for being abrasive on the internet. Even then, if Brit didn't have those screenshots and if Lizzy didn't seem like she had no other reason to speak out. Lily knows this and uses this to her advantage.

6. Lily's fans have heard the allegations by now. A lot of people who find Lily and like her do so because she speaks with a lot of authority and knows how to make herself sound smarter than she is. She has given them reason not to have to think about their validity. This sucks and feels as wrong to me as it does to you, but a lot of this comes down to internal bias and what people want to believe. It's vibes. So, unfortunately, what has a better chance of getting people to reconsider those more serious allegations is making Lily look foolish.

7. If you don't believe me that this is true, see how much more reach discussion of Lily's stupid Steven Universe video and her Writing Tips list has gotten over everything else. More than even Joon's video and Courtney's allegations. Again, I don't want to make it sound like that information being out there and accessible doesn't matter, it does, but. I hate it as much as you do, but people by and large would rather engage with taking the piss than the dark, heavy shit like the [alleged] actual crimes Lily has committed.

8. I think some of you overestimate the power a tumblr call-out post can have. I'm sorry.

9. I'm not going to sit here and fluff my own ego that my intentions here are entirely altruistic. They're not. Lily personally bothers me. As a trans person, as a victim of CSA/SA, as someone who's been in an abusive relationship with someone Lily reminds me of, as a person who cares about socialist politics and media literacy. Again, let me reiterate, I knew about her for YEARS before starting this blog and hoped she'd vanish into the ether-- never to be mentioned again. She did not. She likely never will. Her presence on the internet is depressing to me. There's likely nothing any of us can do to make her go away. But I can do this. I can fuck with her SEO, I can make her funny, I can have a laugh at her expense. I made this blog to shitpost out some of the images I had from previous stuff, and some I made for the Sai discord. People seemed to feel the same way, enjoying taking the piss. So.

10. I don't tag all my post with #liquid orcard and #Eldritch Lily for the hell of it. It's so people can easily filter out my posts. You can also just block my whole blog. I'm not going to take it personally.

11. If none of that is an acceptable rational to you, that's fine. But that's the rational. I'm open to criticism, but at the end of the day, I'm going to do what I think is best until someone can explain to me otherwise.

[tastytoastz]

I just want to say that the most recent chapter, at the time of writing this, of your fic (where Pac and Mike travel back in time to a 2b Fit, forgive me for forgetting the name) had me so enthralled. I've said this before but I don't think there are nearly enough fics that thoroughly explore the absolute internalised homophobia a man would develop in a place like 2b, so to have a fic like yours properly portray it is like a dream. That chapter has been stuck in my mind since I first read it, and I've reread it a couple of times.

I can't get over how well you showed that he wasn't just angry, but genuinely terrified. I love the emphasis on him being above all just so fucking scared of that information existing out loud. It's such a good angle. And he's not completely dead shocked by the revelation, and jumps straight into denial, which makes it come across - to me, anyway - as if he has already been aware of this fact about himself for a while, like he knows, and he actively works to hide it everyday. There's so much implied in what isn't said . It leaves you wondering how long he's known, how much he thinks about it, if anyone else in his life has ever known, if he has witnessed first hand what happens to people like him (has he ever watched someone get killed for that while having slurs and horribly vulgar and vivid insults thrown at them, and tried his hardest not to picture himself in that position, as the victim?) ... And most of all you wonder what the aftermath of the interaction looks like on his end. Is he panicking silently up in that room, expecting a mob at his door by morning? What is he thinking, what's running through his head? What does he expect to happen now?

I just love the angle you took and how it was written, and that you decided to pick up the heavy subject matter and write it where a lot of other writers seem hesitant. It's so intriguing .

Thank you so much for this ask!!! I could go crazy over this chapter as well and point out so many details, I'm gonna get into some here, but not all (since I wanna keep some stuff ambigitous/secret still and cuz if i mentioned it all it would be a long post, but I will probably go deeper into some more things once the fic is over cuz I have so many things and smaller details I wan't to get into!!! ) (Also I guess if you want to keep thing ambigious and not 'peek behind the curtain' about some things with this fic don't keep reading)

I have seen some people say Fit's reaction to Mike's comment is with self-denial but honestly it's a lot closer to just being him denying Mike and Pac's words. He's not lying to himself, he's strictly lying to Pac and Mike, and I'm glad I was able to make that clear and people are picking up on it!

Not gonna go to much into it right now ( that's for later in the fic 🤫), but he's very aware he is gay.

As a queer person myself homophobia is sadly not something i'm unfamiliar with. I have experinced it directed towards me and I have seen it happen to other people. Meanwhile i've also done research about internalised homophobia as best I can. I know it's a heavy subject matter (and the fic has a lot of violence/gore as well, it's rated M for a reason) so I'm glad so many people are intrigued by the fic despite it (however I fully understand if someone would not like the themes and cuz of that won't read it). I'm hoping to portray it and handle the themes as best i can.

I also think it would just makes sense from a character perspective, you have a man who has been on 2b2t for years, surrounded by slurs for all lgbtq memebers and wathcing people get specially targeted for stuff like that, and that would fuck with you as a closeted gay person. Not only bring you fear of being "found out", but also adapting homophobi language to look less like "one of them" while also just ingraning it in yourself.

Fit's been told the person he is bad, and knows that if people find out he's gay there will be a lot of negative consequnces, so he hides it. And then here comes Mike, not only saying that he knows he's gay but also that "it's obvious" that he likes Pac. For Mike and Pac it's a factual thing they know, while they also know is dangerous to Fit in the wrong hands. They also think it's obvious Fit likes Pac beacuse they know what to look for.

For Fit it sounds like these random guys, despite his best efforts, knows he's gay, the other says he has photo evidence he's gay, and then said he is awful at hiding it. These two people could ruin his life and have him killed so easily. That's what Fit heard and that is terrifying.

This is also one of the reason this fic is only from Pac's POV becuase I want it to be as unclear for the reader what Fit is thinking as it is for Pac. You don't know how Fit thinks in the past, what ideas he has or how he looks at thing which I think it both intruging for readers but also terrifying. You never know what Fit's next move is going to be.

Once again, thank you so much for the ask! I love talking about my fics so thank you for giving me a reason to!