#and people will have the fucking audacity to say 'you aren't trying. you aren't reaching. accommodate me'

[theearnestonion]

rant in the tags time. its angry and there's caps and swears and discusses.. ableism, I guess?? so beware and all that.

[pettyprocrastination]

roller derby!abby seeing reader for the first time? ❤️‍🩹🫂😔❤️‍🩹

I can't decide if I want it to be a reader who is already doing derby or maybe a newbie reader so I'll do both lol

Newbie Skater

The first time Abby sees you is at a scrimmage. You aren't playing- your'e just a spectator. Another face in the crowd but one she hasn't seen before. You aren't wearing their team shirt or colors- but she sees the way your eyes light up as the bout begins and by half time your shouting encouragements in their favor. There's a moment of brevity, when the jam is over and she's leaving the track when she looks up and meets your eyes before you look away with a bashful smile in favor of whispering something in your friend's ear- she doesn't let herself get distracted but maybe she shows off a little bit. A show of strength and brutality for the pretty little thing in the stands watching her with bated breath- it may cost her a penalty or two but it's worth it when she sees you at concessions after the bout is over and you compliment her skill.

When she sees you at the first Incoming Skater Lesson run by the local league the week after her scrimmage, there's a pride thrumming in her chest because now she gets the one to comment on your form and teach you how to do crossovers, she just has to make sure not to say anything stupid when you reach out and grab her for stability each time you feel wobbly on your skates.

Veteran Skater

The first time she sees you is at a scrimmage your both competing in. There's always a kindness between the two teams, many are old friends who have played together years before or those who connect in mutual Facebook groups for their shared love of the same sport, something that overrides the aggressive thrumming in each player's veins they moment they step off the track and congratulate the same people that just minutes before they were trying to destroy.

When she first sees you on the track behind her, the opposing jammer eyeing the outside lane she simply sinks down into her heels and tells her team to hold you.

If only it was that easy.

You're fast. The type of fast that has her shouting to her teammates that you're going to take the inside but then you twist and dance along the out, taking long gazelle like steps on your toe-stops past her in a gust of wind that makes her blood boil each time you do. Abby hits you hard, sending your body crashing to the outside of the track before you pop back up and approach again with the same speed, the same intensity and the same passion that has her digging against the slick floors of the court they play on to keep you in place but you just keep fucking going. By the final whistle she's earned enough penalties trying to keep you from scoring points than her bench coach would like- but they win nontheless. There's that little part of her- the smug jackass that lives in her heart from years of not "being enough" that wants her to rub it in your face but before she gets the chance you take out your mouth-guard and offer her a dazzling smile with a breathless "good job" before you head to the locker room.

It's two hours later that she sees you again. After sharing sweaty but albiet love-filled hugs with friends who came to watch her play that somebody from your team taps her on the shoulder and tells her of an after party at a local bar. Part of her wants to decline. She drove by herself and is far too tired to endure any conversation deeper than "good job" and wants nothing more than to take a steaming hot shower and get some rest but finds herself going nonetheless- she tells herself it has nothing to do with their annoying little jammer who had the audacity to smile at her in the parking lot but Manny thought otherwise.

When Abby walks in she's greeted with the husky lure of Fleetwood Mac and the smell of greasy burgers. She barely gets to the bar before she sees you- now dressed tight top and a skirt that reaches down to your ankles, flaring out each time you turn like a character in a fairytale gesturing wildly while talking to your teammates. You look up, meeting her eyes and a wide grin grows over your face.

"You!"

Crossing the room in quick strides you raise your hand for a high-five, one she cautiously returns and tries not to think about just how tiny your hands are in comparison to hers.

"You hit like a motherfucker."

It's a compliment. Praise that makes her breath stutter and her voice shake when she says thank you. But then you make it worse because you're pretty. Even with your hair still a mess from wearing a helmet and your voice cracked from shouting all day you have the audacity to look cute when you should be frustrating her just as you did before. But you smile and talk about gameplay while praising her strength as a blocker on the track.

She knows she's in trouble because her heart is beating like she just ran a 4k and then you have the gall to lift up that skirt high on your thigh to show-off an already blackening bruise that you claim she gave to you and Abby realizes this Jammer isn't going to be leaving her mind anytime soon.

[rebornologist]

Hi Ghostie! (Ramsay) from the To Cup a Face prompt list is hilarious. Can I request Fran for a that one, please? And if you are feeling up for another, maybe (Clean) for Bianchi?

omg hii nonnie!! Thank you for asking for Fran and Bianchi y'all know I love them 2 death eek! >< I wasn't sure if your ask intended for a reader-insert scenario, a scene with the canon characters interacting, or something else, so I tried to keep it vague so one can insert a self or another character. I giggled like crazy while writing these, so I hope you enjoy!

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ ramsay; after the receiver commits a culinary crime, the sender presses two slices of bread against either side of their face, cupping their face to hold the bread in place, and calls them an idiot sandwich.

♡ Fran is notorious for making and eating weird dishes, and it’s not because he’s French and everyone else is racist—people are beginning to believe that he has pica. Chewing ice and swallowing gum is just the tip of the iceberg. In this case, his culinary crime involved some dishes that he discovered in history books. He had the audacity to bake a water pie and make a toast sandwich 1. out of pure boredom and curiosity, and 2. to fuck with people.

“Fran… what do you mean it’s a ‘water pie’?!” His colleague made air quotes to emphasize the absurdity of the concept, eyebrows raised in disbelief as they looked at the completely deadpan illusionist.

“I’m serious, it’s a dish from the great depression.. you should try it.” He replied flatly, gesturing to the pie as if to say ‘dig in!’.

“You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not.” He shrugged slightly, feigning being a victim. “If you want, you can try the toast sandwich instead.”

“Toast sandwich?!?!?!” They pause.

Fran’s eyes narrow slightly, watching his colleague take a deep breath, as if to control their anger.

“That’s it, Fran—” hands scramble to completely deconstruct the toast sandwich, which was just removing the outside pieces of bread and allowing the middle piece of toasted bread to fall to the floor unceremoniously. The mist assassin feels the dry pieces of whole wheat bread pressed against his cheeks. “You…are a fucking, idiot. sandwich.”

“You…may sample that too, if you’d like.” He blinks once as he stares at them blankly from between the slices, and then gives them the slip, disappearing into thin air.

“AUGHH!!!!”

୨୧ ⁺˳₊ clean; sender affectionately wipes a smudge of sauce from the corner of the receiver's mouth, cupping their face in the process.

♡ Bianchi’s love language is acts of service, and she absolutely adores quality time with her loved ones. She can appreciate a good coffee or restaurant date, especially if it’s a fancy location with high quality ingredients and unique presentations. The more fun food places she experiences, the more inspiration she can draw for her own cooking. She doesn’t make it super obvious how good of a time she’s having, and is often seen sitting across from her partner with sunglasses on and what could almost be a scowl, but she just doesn’t realize how blank her face looks. The upside to this is that no one dares hit on her in public. The downside? There aren't really any. She looks good.

Her expression softens, and a low chuckle reverberates in her sternum, swan-like shoulders lifting slightly as she smiles, tilting her chin lower to peer at the person across from her over her sunnies.

“You have something,” she leans forward before finishing her thought, uncrossing her arms to reach across the table and slide her slender fingers along their jaw to cup their face, ��let me get it for you.”

Extending her other perfectly manicured hand, she brushes her thumb softly over the corner of their lips, wiping off a bit of cream from the pastry they were eating. As she admires the slightly surprised look on their face, her grin grows more genuine, turning into an upside-down smile, and she snorts back another giggle.

“Th-thanks,” they mumble, blinking at her.

“Mmhm,” she hums, pleased as she wipes the pastry cream off on the napkin before grabbing the fork and reaching over at the dish in front of her partner.

“Here, I’ll feed you the last bite.”

[aurumacadicus]

"You look pretty while you sleep. Prettier than you look when you're glaring at me. Yep, exactly like that." with Stony plz?

Teehee actually no this one is really mean >:3c

--

"...lly missed you," Steve heard, distantly. He tried to remember where he was.

He'd had a job. He hadn't been happy about it. Why? Someone he hadn't wanted to see. He'd needed the job though. Had had to grit his teeth and bear it.

"You look pretty while you sleep."

Tony, he remembered suddenly. He hadn't seen him since they'd broken up. Hadn't wanted to see him. But Jim had asked him as a favor. Tony's used to threats, so he's not taking them seriously, Jim had said, voice solemn. But these threats, Steve... they're different.

"Prettier than you look when you're glaring at me."

Steve scowled, finally blinking his eyes open. "Tony."

"Yep, exactly like that," Tony sighed, and Steve swore he saw some regret on his face before his mask carefully fell into place, like shudders over a window. He pushed himself up off the bed, walking over to his suitcase instead.

Steve sat up. "Why did you let me sleep?"

"Because you were exhausted?" Tony answered, voice carefully blasé. "I know you always get tired after a plane ride, and then you had to follow me around that gala for five hours."

"My comfort is not more important than your safety," Steve barked, scowling at him. He fought the urge to get off the bed and shake him. It wouldn't help. It had never worked before, after all.

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes, finally plucking out his toiletry bag. "You're no good to me if you're suffering from sleep-deprivation."

Steve stood, managing to get to the bathroom door at the same time he did and slamming his hand against the doorway, blocking him from entering. "Jim said you weren't taking these threats seriously, but I can't believe just how bothered you aren't," he snapped, glaring at him. "Don't you care about your life at all?"

"Maybe I could finally get more than an hour's sleep if I died," Tony scoffed, grabbing his forearm to try and urge it out of his way.

"Shit like that is why we broke up, Tony," Steve snapped.

Tony finally dropped his mask, turning to glare back at him. "Yeah, because I'm a fuck-up! I know that already! And if Rhodey wasn't such a pain in my ass when he was trying to take care of me, you wouldn't have to be here to see my stupid face again! But for some reason he thinks I have redeeming qualities, so unfortunately here we both are!"

"Why is it so hard to believe that people actually like you?!" Steve exclaimed, exasperation creeping in past the anger.

Tony scoffed in disbelief, outraged. "You have a lot of audacity saying that to me, you know! You know firsthand exactly why people don't like me. I'm frustrating. I don't know how to change. I--"

"I broke up with you because I couldn't stand that you didn't care if you left me behind!" Steve shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration. "You don't take threats to your safety seriously, I--I asked you why you won't take threats seriously, and you shrugged, as if me being left behind without you didn't fucking matter!" He finally reached out, grabbed Tony's shoulders, and gave him the shake he'd been wanting to give him for over a decade. "I love you, Tony. I want you around for a long time. I want to grow old with you."

"No you don't," Tony choked out, trying to pull out of his grip. He did that sniff he always did when he was trying to swallow back his emotions, not wanting to show he was vulnerable. "You're young, you--you're not going to grow old with me, Steve, you're just going to get older and be stuck with some gross elderly--"

"You said the age gap didn't bother you," Steve began angrily.

"No one ever wanted to stay like you did," Tony said, or shouted, it felt loud but it also felt small, like he was trying to keep from falling apart and failing. "People got what they wanted and moved on, and you didn't, and I didn't know what to do, Steve, no one talked about--about marriage, and where we'd live for the majority of the year, and kids. Not with me as their husband. You always made fun of me for having starlets on my arm but none of them ever wanted to marry me, Steve."

Steve's grip loosened a little in shock. "You thought I was just like them. That I was around for a good time, not a long time."

"Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy must have told you what I'm like. Especially when they realized you were serious. Why did you stay as long as you did?" Tony asked quietly, sniffling.

"Because I fucking wanted those things, like I've never wanted anything else, Tony," Steve whispered, pulling him closer. "And I wanted them with you. I don't care that you're older than me or that I'll have to take care of you. Tony, don't you understand? Taking care of you has been the only thing I've ever wanted to do. It wouldn't stop just because you were old. It would have been a privilege to be the one you leaned on."

"I didn't know," Tony admitted, as if Steve couldn't tell, as if it wasn't suddenly completely obvious. "I'm not--not good at this even in the short term. I never would have understood."

Steve let his hands drift down, closer to Tony's elbows. Yeah, Tony hadn't really had a chance, had he? And neither had Steve. Too different. Too alike, in other ways, too.

"Did you mean it?" Steve asked quietly.

Tony blinked, brows furrowing together. "Did I mean what?"

"You said you missed me," Steve said. "Before telling me I was prettier in my sleep."

"Of course I missed you, Steve," Tony whispered, dropping his head. "I love you. I missed you as soon as you walked out the door. I never wanted--"

Steve tugged him in close, smashing their mouths together, because that was all he needed to hear.

[trickscourse]

hell yeah I'm angry, you're defending an abuser and acting like you know him better than his ex partner and ex-friends and ex-mutuals and victims (also lol u trying to make the minor victim the bad guy in this) because you 'watched' him for a few years. You think this gives you the right to dismiss people who actually knew him. And you have the audacity to do this while championing yourself as someone who calls out pedos and abusers, and works at cons with young impressionable teens. You have the audacity to use you being black and allegedly transfemme (your sister blog has used the phrase about another transfemme so I'm sure ur OK with it, and you and calloutrebutal have said your transmasc) as a shield for any criticism. I'm angry because I had an autistic sibling sa'ed by an older autistic person, and them being autistic doesn't give them a pass. Mental illness and being abused doesn't give a pass for abuse. And puppychan was his alter and is an old username not a deadname, Salem is the alter who took over. Don't treat alters as the same person.

The defense blogs aren't my "sister" blogs, I don't support their shit and go out of my way to ignore them most of the time.

One day I hope you come off anon so I can send you a really good link for analyzing what people say and not just shoving words in my mouth and making assumptions. I'm not "defending an abuser", I'm doing research when I get a moment to myself and have the time and energy to throw myself in a situation I don't have the spoons for.

The minor in question wasn't a victim nor am I going to victimblame them, an issue with the whole situation regards to Salem is a lot of shit is thrown out of context. I've spoken to ex and current friends of his, two people I consider family are people who used to be mutuals with him.

Nobody is a bad guy for being an abuse victim, I'm not trying to say that Salem being autistic is an excuse to hurt people, it's not. I've said "my mental illness isn't an excuse for my behavior and explains why certain things happen at best" dozens of times. When it comes to Salem's situation, it's very hard to not find ableist and unbiased information on everything. If you have any, send it.

Your whole perception of me "championing" myself as someone who hates predators and 'loves' working with children is weird. When I call out predators, something I've been doing since I was 18-19, I usually don't attach my name unless it's necessary. I care about the job getting done, not credit.

Accusing me of going out of my way to talk and hang out with children is really, really fucking weird when most times someone will walk up to me and ask basic questions or ask where I got my shirt/backpack/food and we strike up a conversation. Before it goes on for too long I usually say that I'm an adult in my [actual age] and if they feel uncomfortable continuing talking, to just let me know and I'll fuck off.

Your weird insistence that I use something I'm passionate about (ending the cycle of abuse I was in and wanting people to be safe) as some sort of magic eraser for me previous actions is shitty projection or you just not knowing me.

The fucking reach around that you have saying I'm "allegedly" transfem when other people on this website would have my head on a stick for looking at someone else saying the same thing is REALLY cute, I'm not comfortable talking about my gender/bio sex/agab on anon, but trust me when I say I know the body I have more than you do. Rebuttal isn't mine, and I'm not okay with it saying that.

Me being a minority isn't an excuse for criticism, and I've asked people to not do that or to treat me like a diversity point. Something even @parafiles has done on more than one occasion. It's annoying and gives "AFAB owned business" energy.

Genuinely, I'm sorry that your sibling went through that. I hope they heal from that and can move on. When it comes to "Don't treat alters as the same person." I have the same disorder he has, I obviously know this. Someone can be uncomfortable with a former name.

[tigermousse]

24.02.2023

Today I woke up at 5 am and had a panic attack. Because exactly one year ago, on 24.02.2022 I woke up too at 5 am in my flat in Kharkiv because of explosions. In less then 15 seconds I've grabbed my coat, boots, backpack with documents (which I packed several days ago) and Mr.Rat. I have only one thought "The war has started". I've never been so afraid in my whole life before. There was a lot of talking about war for months before. We discuss if the war will start and how it will be. Because since 2014 Russia started a war in Donbass region and annexed Crimea, so we were contemplating if it will be like it? It was nothing like it. First night I've spent inside a subway station, so did a lot of citizens from my district due to the fact that not a lot of shelters were fully functional. The sound is spreading on further distances underground, so whole night I've been listening to the sounds of battles in the northern part of Kharkiv region. Only on third day Russian troops reached Kharkiv - on 12 panzer cars - that was all that left from the tank division. They were wiped out till the end of day. And after that rocket attacks and heavy shelling started. Russians understood that they can't take city by storm, so they've decided to destroy it completely. The shelling doesn't stopped till now and probably will last till the end of war. Their targets are civilian houses, living quarters, schools, kindergartens, hospitals, shopping malls, industrial objects, historical objects - pretty much everything. In the spring of 2022 a lot of people choose to live inside subway stations, because it is safer and because some of them have no other place to live - because the largest and most populated living district of Kharkiv - Severnaya Saltovka - was basically destroyed. There isn't any houses that aren't damaged, most of them damaged permanently. Thousands of people lost everything they had. The problem is that Kharkiv situated very close to Russian border. From Kharkiv to Belgorod is only 40 kilometers and the flying time of a rocket is 43 seconds. If the rocket is launched there is no time to seek shelter - you can only hope that you are not the target. If you're inside, you can try to hide in bathroom or in corridor, and if you are outside, you need to fall to the ground immediately - and pray for the best. The audacity of Russia propaganda - they were talking about taking whole Ukraine in the first four days. In the morning of 24.02.22 russian news channels already were telling that large Ukrainian cities - Kharkiv, Odessa, Sumy - are "fallen without a fight and occupied", while russian troops and tanks were burning on their way to Kharkiv and Kyiv. Battle for Mariupol had lasted till May, 2022, and in the process the city was almost completely destroyed by Russian missiles. Suggestively more them 40 000 people were killed. Thousands of now-orphaned children were illegally transported to Russia. You can say that it is not really a war, it is genocide. Since the beginning of war Russia was able to occupy only one regional center - Kherson, which was freed till the end of year 2022. "Russian warship, go fuck yourself" ("Русский военный корабль, иди нахуй" ) was the answer of Ukrainian soldier on Zmiinyi (Snake)Island to the commander of russian cruiser "Moskva" which demanded to surrender or be destroyed. P.S. Later Snake Island returned under the control of Ukraine and cruiser Moskva sank after being shot by Ukrainian rocket Neptun in April 2022

[koyotekody]

how i wish i could tell you what a fucking mistake you were. how i wish i could tell you that it was unfair for you to abandon me out of your own selfish feelings. how i wish i could call you an asshole for telling your side of the story to everyone BUT me. how could you ever be mad at me for things i did or didn't do when you never told me? how do you have the fucking audacity to post about me and my partner and accuse us things without ever actually talking to us about it?

i'm making a long winded post here. i need to vent. i hope you see this.

it's not fair for you to say you felt like a third wheel "in your own relationship" when the relationship was barely a month long, and you were introduced into an established, 3 year relationship. it's not fair when you love bombed us and told us you loved us from day one. it's not fair you say that after all is said and done, because you never said that to us when you felt that you were actively being third wheeled. it's not fair that you accuse us of "using you to better our relationship" when we told you we've never opened our relationship before, and you're the one that had throuple experience. it's not fair for you to tell strangers on the internet that "we aren't actually poly" because things didn't work out with you. it's not fair that i found out you were texting my partner day in and day out but i had to double, triple text you sometimes to get a response. it's not fair that, after we "broke up" and expressed to you that if you needed space or time apart, you told us you needed us there for you, just for you to slowly distance yourself without a word. it's not fair that you wordlessly "took a break" from social media when in reality, you were just Avoiding the social medias we were mutuals on. it's not fair that any time we asked "hey what's up, are you okay?" that you responded with "yeah, it's just the weather! i'm feeling seasonal depression!" only to find out, after having to be asked and essentially pull it out of you that actually, you're so fucking depressed about the "break up" from almost a year prior. it's not fair you went that long pretending everything was fine, pretending you were fine with us. it's not fair you didn't just tell us you wanted space when we were more than clear about wanting to just do what you needed from us, just for you to abandon us. it's not fair that you had that entire conversation with my partner, you talked out your feelings about us with him and only him. it's not fucking fair that when he told you that you needed to text me about it, you put it off for fucking months. it's not fucking fair that when he told you AGAIN to message me, you waited until my BIRTHDAY to talk to me. it's not fucking fair that when i told you i actually didn't have the mental space to have that conversation because it was my fucking birthday, you never tried again to talk to me after that. never tried to reach back out. in fact, those were the last messages ever between us. a conversation that needed to be had, but was left untouched.

your self awareness and knowledge you had to help yourself was so fucking frustrating because you would do Nothing to help yourself. even when we would offer ears to listen, offer advice to follow. you never took it, it was never good enough. you wanted to stay sad.

the lack of communication on your part ran so fucking deep that we had to end shit with you before they even started. it burns me to know you've been telling people "your side" of the story, but you're leaving out the fucking part where you Didn't Tell Us Anything. you didn't tell us any of your boundaries. you didn't tell us any of your needs. you didn't tell us you felt third wheeled, you didn't tell us you felt used. just because we got closer after we ended shit with you does NOT mean we "used you". its sad to me you think that fucking lowly of us when we've done nothing but show you our most genuine selves. to me it just sounds like you're trying to feel sorry for yourself. and by the way it's insane to me that you felt "third wheeled" because i remember the countless face time calls we had where we would give you so much attention after you asked and told us you needed the attention and we gave it to you. the amount of times we went out of way to include you and you still felt left out?? so be it, maybe even after all we did it wasn't enough for you, But You Never Fucking Told Us That. it always came down to "trauma responses" instead of owning up your own emotions. letting things get to that point where you were in one of your spirals instead of helping yourself.

did you notice things started going sour between us when someone other than you was going through a mental health crisis? did you notice the way you weren't getting enough attention because of it, which sent you into a spiral? did you notice how that sounds now that you're being told from a perspective outside of your own? how selfish and unfair it is for you to act out when someone else needed the extra attention, the extra support. instead you were silent. you weren't there. i was the one that needed that extra support. i was there for you when you needed it, on face time for countless hours. spending hundreds of dollars and dozens of hours to drive out there and see you. but the second i had my own moment of need, and it wasn't all about you, you showed a side of yourself to us without even needing to use your words. you shut down on us when i was going the fuck through it. you didn't correlate that to the "break up"? your emotional immaturity is astounding for someone that was in therapy for almost a decade.

i hope you see this, because i don't have it in me to reach back out. i hope you see this and you realize that i also had feelings about this. i had my own perspective. i was hurt too. i hope you see this and get out of your own fucking head, realize you're not the only fucking person that thinks and feels deeply. you're not the only goddamn person that experiences things with such intensity it consumes every fiber of your being. your individualistic mindset is the very thing that has isolated you and it's no wonder to me why things never work out beyond surface level connections with you. you're a husk of a person and it's sad to witness. good fucking luck.

[the-blue-sandglass]

THIS.

I know I mostly just post icons but this shit stuck out to me SO BAD. See I didn't watch TT when I was a kid, but I watched it once I found a place to check it out and this guy is fucking s c a r y from that perspective, he's like...every gaslighting manipulative parent compiled into one. The mystery about what the fuck he's even after isn't any better, but the gaslighting and the manipulation is the worst of it all.

Like if you look up the signs of a gaslighter, he pretty much checks like?? Every box?? Apologies for the ramble beneath the line!

He tells blatant lies - pretty much most of what he says to Terra, really, but the stuff he says about the Titans stands out as we see they aren't upset about Terra struggling with her powers, if anything they approach it at worst in a 'we'll try and help you sort it but you gotta keep it in mind' way, which is pretty reasonable.

Using what you love against you - this...this is literally what he did to Robin throughout all of the Apprentice arc. Like, exactly what he did. He literally said do this or they die and specifically that he'd make him watch. I'd argue he did it to Raven too during that whole situation, especially with stuff like the "now they're afraid of YOU" spiel during the Prophecy.

Confusion weakens people - another thing that I can't narrow down to just one example because I'd argue that's like...his whole preferred method. He does it with Robin with all the mysterious leads he sets up, he does it with Terra regarding her friends and he does it to Beast Boy regarding Terra to make her look worse to him and thus sever her connection to him.

Loss of sense of self - I noticed while reading over the transcripts for Apprentice and Aftershock respectively (and from TV Tropes) that Slade doesn't tend to call his apprentices by name. With Robin he uses his name comparatively more often, but he very specifically always says 'my apprentice' which is...disturbing. Post-Terra swearing loyalty he tends to just call her 'apprentice', but he doesn't use her name very often from that point onward. He also tries to imply a sense of enjoyment from Robin's thefts specifically that isn't there, and a sense of closeness that isn't there (most people comment on the 'I already have a father' thing specifically for the Batman allusion, but I find it pretty fucking freaky that he'd have the audacity to imply he'd be a similar role to Batman given all the shit he'd put Robin through by then, never mind in the potential future), along with the 'you'll learn to like it'.

Actions will not reflect words - Poor Terra got this the worst I think, given that she got hit specifically with the 'I can help you, child', 'I can teach you to shine'. There's probably examples of this too for Robin and Raven though, but Terra gets it most I think because of us seeing the whole twisted process of him trying to get his claws into her. Eep. Him seemingly praising Terra or respecting her is very similar. I'd argue too the 'all my knowledge, all for you' and 'it's always been about you' to Robin also fall under this.

Projection - ROBIN. ROBIN. Robin and Terra both get this I'd argue, but the former especially; admittedly there are some legs to the comparison, as there are traits that Robin has in common with him, but Slade mentions it a lot I think because he knows it eats at him. He says that 'they think alike', but Robin really doesn't. He can be a bit ruthless to reach his ends but he's not?? A fucking gaslighter?? I'd also say he does it to Terra, given the whole 'who else would take you?' thing later, to me that kinda implies she's as bad as he is and that there's no going back for her, when there still is.

Everyone else is a liar - Slade does this to Terra way too much, it's unsettling. From the first conversation he has with her he plants that doubt, the 'they'll abandon you', '(Beast Boy) lied', etc. The 'how can you lose something you never had?' also counts because Terra might have struggled with her powers but she didn't deal with an earthquake every second. We never see one in the show, not to the level he mentions, so she clearly has some semblance of it. Robin gets a hint of it too with the 'they're not your friends anymore' as if saying that invalides literally everything Robin's went through with the Titans so far?? TLDR: Slade's a creepy bastard and I will DIE on this hill. And like, he TRAUMATISED these kids. Haunted is pretty much Robin trying to deal with that trauma, and honestly I don't understand the Terra hate in full because that girl was abused and manipulated by this fucker. The way Slade speaks about her in places (what the FUCK was that 'I saw her first' shit) is so wrong, everything about him is just wrong.

rewatching episodes of teen titans as an older individual who knows his fair share of shit about gaslighting and manipulation, slade is a dick. rewatching terra’s arc made me sick to the stomach. everything slade says to her; “nobody understands you,” “i’m the only one who can help you control your powers,” “beast boy never liked you. you have no friends.” “when they figure out your secret they’ll kick you out,” the list goes ON. that’s the TEXTBOOK DEFINITION of manipulation! saying that you’re the only one who can help someone, isolating someone from their friends, planting the seeds of lies in their head- this is all present. and we can see how terra is reacting to it! she’s nervous. she’s scared. she doesn’t know what to believe. she was a girl that had no home, no control over her powers, and slade took advantage of that. she didn’t know any better and that bastard of a man knew that. when you’re older than 9 it becomes so much easier to hate slade, because you know why he’s hatable now. you can see it. you understand it. he’s not just the bad guy, he’s a bad guy.

and don’t even get me STARTED on raven’s birthday arc. slade is SUCH A CREEP!!

[thoughtfulmagazinepaper]

Unusual Encounters Pt. 3!

"This is why I don't socialize."

Summary. Valentino and Angel wake up hungover, tired and sore from the party last night, Valentino shares some new information.

Words: 2333

Enjoy!

I woke up to the sound of the TV playing in the background, and someone moving dishes around in the kitchen. I slowly opened my eyes, adjusting to the brightness of the lights.

"Angel?" I questioned, still half asleep.

"Look who's finally awake. You sure are a lightweight huh?" I laughed at this statement. I moved my hair out of my face, gathering my bearings and sitting up.

I could smell food cooking, and the window was opened from what I could see. I got up, heading over to the kitchen to help him wash dishes.

"You know, in Ukraine you can drink as soon as you can reach the bar." His eyes widened. "So no, I wouldn't consider myself a lightweight by any means." I snickered at his expression, grabbing a dish and scrubbing it. He looked confused now.

"Yo, I can clean my own kitchen thanks." He stated, flipping the eggs he had cooking and taking a sip of his water.

"Oh I know, but it doesn't really look like this place has been cleaned in a while. Plus, I know the whole biker thing cancels it out, but I like helping certain people." I said, putting emphasis on the word certain. "Then why help me?" he asked, a glint in his eyes I couldn't quite place.

"because you're my friend, plus, a Mayan just like myself." I grumbled, trying to shake the bit of drowsiness still left in my body.

He was talking, but, I wasn't listening. I was looking around his house. There were scattered alcohol bottles, a dirty carpet, and it reeked like rotten food. He was still talking, but I just dropped my dish back into the sink with a clank, grabbed a plastic garbage back out from under his sink and went over to pick up the many glass bottles scattered on almost every solid surface in the house.

"And like I sai- wh-..... what the fuck Hawk?" He gave me an irritated stare.

"Don't look at me like this place doesn't smell sour." I snapped, giving him a look like he had the audacity here. "I'm willing to help if you're up to it."

He thought about it for a second, then without saying anything, grabbed a trash bag and started picking stuff up. I clicked on a speaker and started playing some music.

Eventually we got into a rhythm, I'd clean up the empty bottles and leave the ones that still had alcohol in them to him to put back on a shelf. After a few hours of dusting, vacuuming, scrubbing, etc. His house was clean. And better yet, it smelled clean.

My phone rang.

It was Bishop. My heart dropped a bit, I was enjoying spending time with Angel. "Who's that? He asked. I put my finger over my lips and answered.

"Hey uncle, whatcha' need?" I asked, Angel gave me a quiet "ohhhhh," and listened in.

"Hey, I need you and Angel to come to the clubhouse. An emergency cartel shipment was just ordered by Galindo. Sorry to trouble you while you're moving in, but its urgent. We need all the men we can get. It's a shipment of 20 keys, so it's pretty risky. Get here fast."

"Okay, Love you."

"Love ya too, bye."

And he hung up.

"Shit." Angel muttered, we both put our Kuttes on, not having time to change. I followed him out to the clubhouse, still not knowing the way very well. A bunch of thoughts went through my head. How is this gonna play out? What if Angel gets hurt-? Wait. Why do I care if he gets hurt so much?

Shit.

Before I could answer my own questions, we were already pulling into the scrapyard. Bishop walked out as we parked.

"Emergency Templo. Now."

(A/N: sorry in advance for the amount of dialogue about to happen 😭)

Me and Angel glanced at each other. We went inside without a word, and the other guys were already at the table. I took a seat next to Angel under Bishop's orders, and so began my first Templo.

"So, the keys aren't the problem." Bishop started. "We have the keys we need. The problem, is that our last shipment got ambushed and we're shit outta luck with help from Galindo to get our heroin over the border. Don't suggest the underground tunnels, there's way too much to ship it that way. But chances are, we'll get ambushed again when trying to drive them to the location. Any ideas?"

"Fight back." I mumbled.

"The fuck did you just say?" Bishop demanded.

"I said, fight back. If this ambush is so unavoidable and we have no other options, then I think the answer is pretty simple. Prepare for the ambush, and come back at them with double the power. It's a risk, but it's not like we have a lot of options here."

Atlas, who sits directly across from me, cut a glance in my direction, then back to Bishop. I could tell he didn't expect me to do something like that.

Bishop paused. He looked like he was staring into my soul honestly. But I stood my ground. I mean, what the fuck else did we have to do? Not give him a shipment?

"..anything anyone wants to add?" Bishop finally asked.

Silence.

"Then it passes. We'll fight back against the ambush if it happens. If anyone gets hurt, I'm blaming you Hawk." He sternly nodded in my direction, I nodded back. "Fair enough."

He smacked his gavel down, and everyone got up.

"Damn Hawk, you for really went for it?" Atlas materialized beside me.

"You came out of nowhere- but yeah, is that a bad thing?" I asked, a bit worried if that was bad manners in America or something.

"Nah, but it shows you got some major balls." He laughed, so did Angel who was on my other side. I gave a nervous laugh, looking over and seeing nails scoping me out. Yep, the same girl I pulled off blondie. She looked at me, marched towards me, and slapped me. Ouch.

All of the guys went silent.

"Why are some of the girls in here telling me that you think I'm disgusting because I'm Taza's girl." God, this girl was seething.

Taza cut me a glance, shook my head.

Atlas was about to open his mouth to defend me, but I put my hand out over his chest. "This isn't your problem Atlas." he looked at me, examining my face. he then put his hands up and backed off. My attention turned back to Nails.

"Taza's practically my uncle, ese. Plus I was helping Angel clean his house all morning. Why and how would I have said that"

Then I saw her.

The same blonde bitch that was fighting Nails, watching the whole thing while drinking a beer.

"You. Blondie. Get the fuck over here." I demanded, she brought her drink with her and took her sweet ass time walking over.

"What do you want now?" She asked me. A fake innocence in her voice.

"Don't be fucking dumb, we all know you started this rumor because you're too pussy to say it about Angel and you don't know me." I laughed, taking her drink out of her hand and setting it on the table. "Get the fuck out of this clubhouse, you aren't even someone's girl." My thick Russian-Spanish accent popped out more than usual. The guys looked at Bishop, and he nodded.

She left, but not before taking the two drops left in her drink and trying to throw it at me.

The guys were laughing at something, then I just look to my right and see Atlas eyeing me like I was fucking crazy.

"What..?" I asked, he genuinely looked like he saw me grow a third eye.

"Nothing, I just thought you wasn't gonna react like that-" he started. "I for real thought you were- let me stop before I get hit."

I looked at him weird, but I didn't pay any mind to it. I'm kind of odd, and by my accent you can tell I'm foreign. So, a lot of people expect me to be quieter. They're dead wrong.

Bishop checked his watch. "We have 2 hours until we have to get this run done. Its 4pm right now."

All of the guys nodded, I went and sat down at one of the leather barstools. Nails strutted over to me. She sat down opposite to me, watching Taza and Coco play a pool game behind my left shoulder. Eventually she focused in on me, a look of sincerity in her eyes.

"Hey, sorry I slapped you. I just get heated when people talk about me like I'm a common whore. I really like Taza, so being treated like I'm one of these casual cumsluts pisses me off; Luckily the guys got that, but since you're knew I wasn't really surprised. My bad." She held out a hand, and I pulled her into a quick hug.

"Don't worry about it Querida; I would have reacted the same way." I was genuine when I said that, shit happens. I put my hand over hers, trying to be nice.

"You two want drinks?" Ez asked behind the bar. I grabbed my card out of my wallet and tapped it on the wooden table. He took it, going behind him and getting two shots ready for us.

Nails looked at me with a slight confusion. "By the way, where's your accent from? I know you jumper charters from somewhere outside of America but that's all I know."

Ez came out with the shots, setting them in front of us. We both grabbed one, clinked them together and threw them back.

"My accent is from two places. I was born in Ukraine and lived there for 19 years. Eventually I moved to Mexico because I couldn't see myself staying in Ukraine without any family. I patched in about 5 months into prospecting because I killed in battle, so I lived in Yucatán for 8 years until I moved here. Plus, the reason I'm around Atlas so much is because he was my sponsor when I was prospecting in Yucatan. Here I have more family and I can cross the border any time I like to see my family that's closer to the border, like in Mexicali or some shit. So, my accent is kind of weird."

"You lived in Yucatán?" I heard Angel say behind me. "I've heard it's beaches are really cool, what's it like?" He asked, I could almost laugh at how socially unaware this guy is.

"Yeah, they don't lie. The only thing annoying about it is shitty tourists acting like you're stupid. I LOVED fucking with the tourists."

Over the next two hours, I started talking with Nails and Angel about both of my old countries I lived in, the family, the club, the people, etc. Along with the occasional interruptions from Atlas talking about how different I was. Eventually we had to call a quits because we had to do this damn cartel run.

,"Alright everybody! On your bikes! Taza yelled, everyone got up, stopped whatever they were doing and filed out of the clubhouse. We still had to pick up the keys, but once we did that, the plan was ready. And the mess ups would be on my hands.

Mine.

[multi--kpop--fanfics]

(Not) Such A Good Boy

sub!bf!Juyeon x dom!fem!reader (ft. Eric, Kevin and Hyunjae)

genre: smut, slight crack, a bit of fluff towards the end

contains: dom/sub themes, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), marking, biting, spanking, Juyeon is a brat on a choker and a leash, unprotected sex (be safe y’all)

Author’s note: This man right there has been wrecking my existence lately (I blame Kingdom) and this GIF screams sub!Juyeon so yeah, enjoy this filth

“Lee Juyeon, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you scoff under your breath. You have been waiting for the past twenty minutes in the living room, outfit and makeup on point, since you were about to go clubbing with your group of friends. But apparently, your dear boyfriend had lost all sense of time, trying to get ready.

Visibly irritated, you storm to your shared bedroom, your heels angrily clicking on the wooden floor. “Juyeon, I swear to God-” you mutter and stop mid-sentence, only to see your boyfriend leaning on the door, fully dressed and a lop-sided smirk plastered on his handsome face. 

“You called, babe?”, he asks teasingly and before rolling your eyes, you give him an once-over, processing his choice of clothes - a pair of tight black leather pants that were hugging his muscular thighs deliciously, a pair of black combat boots, a cropped black sweater with holes around his clavicles and a black belt-like choker around his neck. He was the epitome of the emo bad boy that all parents hated and all girls craved. 

“Um, what is this?”, you question him with a pointing finger. "That, is my outfit for tonight", Juyeon states, the previous smirk still on his face, "What, you don't like it?". "Isn't it a bit unfair for me to wear not so revealing clothes all while you're dressed as an emo himbo?", you complain and he laughs, "An emo himbo? Wow, you're getting more creative with your descriptions, Y/N. You're right though, it's a sort of questionable outfit". You perk up at his response, hoping he'll change into something more colorful and less hole-adorned, only to be utterly disappointed, as Juyeon reached into the closet only to drape a black leather jacket on top of his broad shoulders. "Now we're good to go", he turns to you and winks with audacity. Brat, you scoff mentally and pick up the keys to unlock the door and finally leave your shared apartment.

"Finally! What the fuck took you so long?!", your friend Eric yells at you, trying to overcome the loud bass of the club speakers. "Your complaints to your friend over there, he was the one who took twenty minutes to get ready", you roll your eyes pointing to Juyeon, who was greeting Hyunjae and Kevin, your other friends. "Yooo, Juyeon, what's up with the collar, bro?", Eric amusingly points out. "It's a choker, you tasteless twat. But what would you know of fashion, since you only know how to wear t-shirts and ripped jeans?", Kevin comments and Juyeon mouths a 'thank you' to him. "Simple is the best, my dear friend. Besides, I've been getting all the girls, unlike you and your snake print jacket", Eric retaliates. "Excuse you, this jacket is a fashion statement!", Kevin bites back, feeling insulted. "Not gonna lie though, it does look like a collar. Will you put him on a leash too, Y/N?", Hyunjae comments in a snarky way, making Eric cringe in disgust. "Hyunjae, please go get some drinks, for God's sake", you reply with a dismissive manner. "Yes ma'am", he rolls his eyes and goes to the bartender.

You turn to Juyeon, who was extremely stiff after Hyunjae's comment. "You okay, baby?", you nudge him softly and he's brought back to reality. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, no worries", Juyeon replies, praying that the loud bass could cover his shaky voice. "Don't listen to Eric and Hyunjae, they have zero fashion sense, bro. I would wear that choker too, looks hella good on you", Kevin adds while pointing to the choker and Juyeon's smile is back on his face, "Thanks, bro, I really appreciate it", he replies with a chirpy tone.

The music suddenly changes into a slower jam and Juyeon smirks devilishly, as he winks at you and walks towards the dance floor. You watched as he starts swaying his hips and shoulders in the most smooth way possible, his half-lidded eyes never leaving yours. Eric and Kevin were whistling and cheering on Juyeon, all while Hyunjae was snorting at their antiques. You were simply lost in the image of your boyfriend dancing like there was no tomorrow. He wasn't just following the rhythm, he was riding it - and boy, was he good at doing so.

In fact, he was so good that he gained the attention of many people in the club. And you were lowkey proud, because that man was yours. However, a certain girl wasn't aware of that - hence why she approached Juyeon and started dancing with him. You were a bit jealous, not gonna lie, but the next moment made your blood fucking boil.

He had the fucking audacity to put his hands on her waist and dance with her - all while looking to you over her shoulder with the most smug expression on his face. That fucker, you mentally curse. This was definitely payback for everything you said before you left the house. You just knew it. You weren't even the jealous or possessive type of girlfriend to begin with.

But you'd be damned if you were to let a random bitch run her hands over your boyfriend.

Hyunjae catches up to your motions and he grabs you by your wrist. "Hyunjae, what the f-" "Shut up and listen to me. Going there and creating a scene will not end up well for you and you will give Juyeon exactly what he wants", he states and his words hit home faster that you expected. "Since when did you become so perceptive?", you raise an eyebrow and he chuckles, "I have my moments too, Y/N". "So, since your brain decided to actually function tonight, do you have any idea?" you ask in defeat and Hyunjae starts pulling you to the dance floor by your hand, leaving Eric and Kevin completely baffled. He then pulls you into his chest and leans in your ear to whisper

"Just dance, Y/N".

A Cheshire cat-like grin spreads on your lips, as you catch up to his ulterior motive and you start dancing with Hyunjae, hoping that Juyeon will notice the two of you. "Don't think too much about it, it will happen naturally", he adds, "You're too stiff, Y/N, just relax and enjoy dancing".

His words actually succeed in making you relax and you sway your hips more comfortably, actually enjoying the slow jams echoing through the club speakers. Under the dim lights, you lock eyes momentarily with Juyeon, who was licking his lips and his gaze was a mix of lust and death glares, the last one directed to Hyunjae. "Told you it would work", he comments, "You owe me this one". "Shut the fuck up, Hyunjae", you spit back and he laughs.

However, his laughter is cut short by a very jealous Juyeon, who has grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Next time I see you dance with Y/N, I'll break your fucking kneecaps", he growls and Hyunjae takes a step back, "She's all yours, bro", he raises his hands in defense and returns to the table. Juyeon then turns to you, his blood still boiling with jealousy, as you watch him with a proud smirk.

"You find this funny, huh? Dancing shamelessly with my friend?", he clenches his jaw. You then thread a finger through his choker and pull him close to your face, making Juyeon gasp. "Funny? No honey, I'm fucking fuming right now, because you decided to act like a brat and put your hands on the first bitch that threw herself on you", you retaliate, your chill facade slipping away. A sickly sweet smile adorns Juyeon's face as he watches every single movement of yours. He lowers his head, his lips hanging mere centimeters over yours and he slyly pokes out his tongue to lick your lips, hissing at the wet feeling.

"You're so fucking hot when you're mad, baby".

That was the last straw.

"Get your stuff, we're going home", you announce and he flashes a toothy grin. "Yes ma'am", he replies almost immediately and you return to your friends' table. "Guys, we'll be leaving now, hope you enjoy the rest of the night!" you announce and Eric looks between Juyeon and you. "Do I want to know what's going on?", he questions and Kevin pats him on the back while shaking his head as in 'no'. You both bid farewell to your friends and you walk out of the club, jogging towards your car. Juyeon whips out the cars keys and he opens the door for you, his gentleman-like gesture a complete contrast to his previous bratty behaviour.

The ride back home feels like it lasted for hours, when in reality, it lasted only ten minutes - maybe it's your sheer desire to fuck your handsome boyfriend to oblivion. By the time you entered your shared apartment, your lips were on Juyeon's neck, your hands roaming his toned body and his arms wrapped around your waist.

"You love acting like a bratty slut, don't you?", you sneer at him and he releases a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, and so do you", he whispers and he trails kisses upon your neck and behind your ear, nibbling your earlobe. "Are you going to punish me for being a bratty slut?".

You thought you came right there and then, 'cause fuck, he is so hot like this.

"Is that what you want? Fine then, you'll get the punishment you deserve, slut", you hiss while gripping Juyeon's jaw, your manicured nails raking his porcelain skin, "Don't say I didn't warn you", you whisper into his ear and he releases one of the lewdest sounds you've ever heard in your life. "God, you're a desperate little bitch, aren't you, Lee Juyeon?", you ask while removing the detachable strap of your bag and clasp it on his choker, creating a make-shift leash. "Only for you, baby", he replies with a sultry voice and half-lidded eyes.

You pull him by the make-shift leash, and you push him onto the couch, where you settle yourself on his lap, his hard cock straining his already tight pants. You remove his shirt, exposing his chiseled body. Wasting no time, you attack his collarbones with your lips, trailing red and purple blotches on his soft skin. You bite the juncture of his neck teasingly and he releases breathy moans, making you chuckle. You grind your clothed core on his bulge, and the sweet friction makes Juyeon mewl again. He tries to reach for your crotch with his hand, but you stop him by pulling the leash, making him gasp.

"No sweetheart, no touching tonight", you chastise him, as you pull back to remove your clothes and his pants, leaving the both of you only in your underwear. Juyeon's bulge is even more evident now, the thin material of his boxers having a wet spot, due to his cock leaking pre-cum. The sight in front of you makes your own wetness pool in your panties - your boyfriend on a leash, his perfectly styled hair now disheveled, his upper torso covered in love bites, his muscular thighs fully spread and his cock straining against his boxers.

"Baby, fuck, please do something", he pleads with bleary eyes. "Lie down for me", you order and he's laid flat on his back with one swift motion, his desperation showing. You remove your underwear and place your naked pussy right in front of his face. He reaches for your thighs with his arms, but you slap them away. "I said, no touching", you say sternly, "But-", "You should have thought twice before touching that bitch with your hands. Now, be a good boy and use your pretty mouth", you demand.

Juyeon pushes his wet tongue into your heat without second thought and he's lapping up your juices like a starved man. You can't help but moan with satisfaction, having him under your control like that gave you a huge adrenaline rush. You raked your nails from his torso to the hem of his boxers, the sensation making him moan and momentarily halt his actions. You slap his left thigh to alert him and his cock twitches, the vibrations of his moans coursing through your body as well. Juyeon now flattens his tongue against your folds with a faster tempo.

"You like it when I spank you, huh? Naughty boy", you smirk and land another slap, this time on his right thigh. Juyeon retaliates by sucking on your clit harshly, making you yelp from pleasure and you feel him smirk against your pussy. You find the leash and tug it, pulling Juyeon's face even closer to your core. "Behave, or you'll sleep without cumming tonight", you warn him and he whines, but resumes his efforts nonetheless. "Good boy, k-keep it u-up", you stutter as you feel your high approach with each passing second. His tongue is alternating between circling your clit and pumping in and out of your hole, the squelching sounds creating a pornographic scene.

You scream as you cum on Juyeon's face, your whole body shaking, as he helps you ride out your orgasm with kitten licks. You pull yourself together and turn around to face him, as he nastily licks his lips to taste your essence. "Sweet like fucking candy", he comments, "Want a taste, baby?". You pull him by the leash and crash your lips on his, tasting yourself, as your tongues dance crazily in a battle of dominance. "You're still acting like a brat, but since you did as I said, maybe you deserve to cum after all", you state and bend down to remove his boxers and free his painfully hard erection.

"Y/N, stop fucking teasing already!", Juyeon whines again and you slap his thigh again, "Where did your manners go, baby?".

"Please, Y/N..."

"Please what?"

"Please use my cock to cum"

"Fuck, such a good boy", you moan and spear yourself onto his hard cock, the sudden stretch tipping between pain and pleasure. You give yourself almost no time to adjust and you start riding Juyeon like a mad woman. He pistons his hips in unison, pounding into you with a speed neither of your brains are able to register. You put your hands on his broad chest for support and he holds your hips with his hands so tight you might get bruises the next day. Neither of you are able to contain your obscene moans nor form coherent sentences, way too lost in pleasure and lust.

"Fuck, Juyeon, you're such a good boy, so good for me", "Only for you Y/N, shit- only yours", he groans and his hips start to falter, signaling his upcoming orgasm. "I-I'm close again, nngh..", you mewl as you feel your insides clench around his cock like a vice. "M-Me too, Y/N please let me cum, let me f-fill you up baby", "Oh God, yes, fill me with your cum, babe", you moan loudly.

Juyeon moans with you as he stills himself, his cock twitching uncontrollably and flooding your cunt with his hot cum, painting your insides white. You collapse on top of him, panting heavily, the both of you sweating and spent, laughing breathlessly. You muster all the strength you have left in you to remove the choker from Juyeon's neck.

"Oof, thank you baby", he nods, rubbing his neck softly. You swipe a few dark strands of his forehead. You notice the marks on his neck the choker left and you can't help but feel a little regretful. "Did I hurt you?", you ask sheepishly and Juyeon smiles softly and presses a kiss on your nose. "No baby, you were perfect. We should do this more often, actually. You look hella sexy when you take control", he teases and you playfully smack his chest.

"So you intend to dance with random girls in clubs?", you ask and Juyeon smirks,

"No, but I intend to be not such a good boy for you".

[vuhtterlly]

Overwhelmed

Who: Geto Suguru x GN! Reader

Warnings: Comfort. Slightly reckless driving. Light angst? Grammatical Errors. A tiny, tiny, TINY spoiler.

A/N: This is inspired by true events. Unloading is not easy, and we get so wrapped up trying to ignore that it's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to cry when you don't know the reason and seek comfort from the person you trust the most.

Summary: You have to be fine, not for everyone's sake but for yourself. So, why after tonight's event, you find yourself crying and conflicted to call for help. Though someone notices your behavior and does not hesitate to be there for you.

Muffled voices surrounded you, but strangely enough, you can hear what they are saying. You laugh when everyone does, you answer when someone asks you things, but behind that smile, you were lost. It was like if your body was on autopilot.

You look at your watch, and it was getting late. "I'm sure everyone still wants to hear how great you are, but we have students to teach early tomorrow," you got up from your seat.

"Oh, come on, Y/N! Don't be a party pooper. I'm sure we can still hang a couple more minutes," Gojo pleaded.

You shook your head and gave an apologetic smile to the waitress who has been waiting to clean the table.

"They're right, Gojo. Can't you see it's time to close! Plus, we see each other every day." The black hair man scolded the pouting white-haired man.

Gojo pouted and got up, "You three go ahead. I'll pay for our meal."

Shoko was already walking ahead and pulling out her smokes. Geto walked a bit further but noticed how you were walking slow and looking at your surroundings. It was as if you were trying to distract yourself.

He opened the door and hold it for you.

"Hey, are you okay?" He stood next to you as you took your keys out of your pocket.

You scrunched your eyebrows, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be."

He shrugged, "Just asking." Though he knew that you were lying but didn't push anymore.

The four of you came in separate cars, but Gojo and Geto came together.

"Ah! I guess he's up to his antics again," You pointed at the window.

Shoko and Geto looked in your pointed direction. They see Gojo flirting with the young waitress. The three of you sigh, and Shoko decided to go back in to drag Gojo away from the poor woman.

You yawned and stretch out your limbs.

Geto chuckled, "I guess you should head out before you fall asleep here."

You hummed in agreement.

"Come on. I'll walk you to your car." He nodded towards where your car is parked.

As the two of you were walking, you were questioning if you should ask him if he wants to go with you, but your automated brain wasn't letting you.

Geto could have asked you if he could go with you, but he knew that something was going on with you, and you needed some space. Though that didn't stop him from worrying.

You got in your car. Before Geto closed the door for you, he stared at you.

"Umm, Sugu?" You asked nervously. Squirming at his intense gaze.

He shook his head, "Sorry! Are you sure you able to drive? I know you struggle driving at night." He wanted to stall, anything to be by your side.

You gave a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine! The campus is close by. I can make it! Besides, you have me in find friends. So, if anything, just look where I am at."

That's the thing he doesn't want to resort to that. He wants to believe that you'll be fine, but his gut is warning him that he should be with you.

He nodded, agreeing with your last statement, "Please drive safe then. Text me once you're close by."

He lets you close the door, his eyes not leaving your car as it drives away.

*******

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips, and in a millisecond, a sob came afterward.

You were driving to an intersection, and it's your turn to make a stop. You were about to make a left, but your head wasn't letting you think straight. You were so caught up sobbing that you didn't properly look at both sides and almost hit a car.

"Clear your head, Y/N. You can't drive like this. Clear. Your. Head." You took a couple of deep breaths. Once the road was clear, you made the left turn, but you started to sob again. Your "Clear Mind" mantra was working-ish, but the tears weren't stopping.

Stopping at a traffic light, you started to rant, "You we-were never in m-my life, and you have the au-audacity to talk shit about m-me?! W-who do y-you t-think you are to say...to say th-that I've never done any-anything to p-prove that I can l-lead the c-clan. T-that I'm not smart en-enough to lead. I'm a t-teacher for fuck sakes!!!"

Your eyes glance at the light. The traffic light taking its time to turn green.

"Uncle, y-you are in-in no position to-to say that-that I'm n-not worthy of the title. B-because I am w-worthy!!!! I-I don't have sons w-who kno-knocked up and ha-have di-different baby mommas!!!! Plus, I ca-can destroy your weak ass sons!!!"

You reach to turn up the music. The back of your head wanted to deny this action, telling you that you need to let everything out. Though you just wanted to block your thoughts.

When your sibling found out about it and told you, it didn't hit like right now. In fact, you laughed and said that your uncle's sons didn't have anything compared to you. The elders in your clan already confirm that you were next in line to lead your clan. So, why is something like what your uncle said affecting you?

Shouldn't you be crying over your work? That there were innocent people you couldn't save, and their families blame you.

From taking your students to missions, making sure they survived, making sure the elders didn't touch one of Gojo's students, preparing to become the new clan leader, training to perfect your domain expansion, to go on solo missions. It was an endless cycle, but why are you crying for a small comment?

Could it be that you're just overwhelmed? That this is your body trying to unload?

Your thoughts were all over the place, and the music wasn't helping. The light turned green, but soon the road lights were fading, making it harder for you to drive.

"I can't drive like this," You let out a shaky breath. "What s-should I do?" You hiccupped.

You slowly pulled to the side of the road and parked your car. When you thought you had calm down, another wave of sobs burst out of your lips. Before you know it, you screamed, and punch the steering wheel trying to let go of your frustrations.

Minutes turned to an hour, and you were dozing off. Would it be a bad idea to sleep on the road for the night? Then again, you'll have to explain to Suguru why you haven't come home yet.

You didn't want to bother anyone, especially at this hour. You've learned that dealing with these emotions was best because who could understand you better than yourself?

Although...

You have friends who trust you with their vulnerability, but do you trust them with yours?

What's the point of having friends if you can't be real with them?

Aren't you the type of person friends come for comfort?

For once, don't you want someone to comfort you?

Lowering the music volume. Your phone was in your hand, and unconsciously you dial Geto. Biting your lip, you immediately cancel the call. You feared what he'll think or that he can't be there for you.

The ring from your phone startled you, he called you back.

You cleared your throat and swallowed a chunk of saliva. Hoping he wouldn't notice your broken voice.

"Hello?"

"Unlock your door." That was all he said before he hanged up.

You looked around your surroundings and saw a dark outline of a car parked behind you. A figure walked towards your door, and thanks to the moonlight, you were able to see that it was Suguru.

When he opened the door, your lips quivered, and another wave of tears streams down your cheeks.

"S-Sugu I-" You wanted to ask how or why, but he didn't give you a chance.

He leans towards you and unbuckles your seatbelt.

"I going to pick you up and put you in the back, okay?" His face was inches from yours.

You nodded and hiccupped.

He leaves for a second to open the back door and comes back, picking you up gently.

After he places you gently on the back seat, a voice comes from the direction of the other car.

"Are they alright?!" they yelled, worry hidden in their voice.

Geto pulls back and wipes some of your tears away, "I'll be back."

You didn't want him to leave; his warmth made you feel safe.

It felt like an eternity for Suguru to come back, but then you saw the headlights from the other car turned on and drove off.

You hiccupped, and the tears never seemed to end.

"Sorry if I took long. Mind if you scoot over." He said softly.

Your mind was back to autopilot and did what was commanded.

The two of you sat there uncomfortable. Geto did not know if it's okay to pull you into a hug, but he decided to do it. He makes you sit on his thighs, chest against chest, and he then pushes your face towards his neck. One arm is wrapped around your waist, while the other one is rubbing your back.

"It's okay to cry. But for once, let me hold you and soothe your raging thoughts, just like you've done for me. Let me be your shoulder for you to cry on, trust me with your vulnerability," he pleaded and hold you tighter.

You wanted to push him away, but instead, your hands reached to grip his shirt. You gritted your teeth and let out another sob. Suguru didn't stop rubbing your back and kept giving soothing words.

This craving that was starting to build, you didn't want it to end. You never thought that being wrapped in someone's arm can be so warm and slightly refreshing.

"Whenever you feel ready to talk, I'll be here with you. It doesn't matter if it's something small or silly; your feelings are important. Don't think that I'll judge you because I won't," he reassured you.

It took you a while to gain some of your composure back, but you manage to regain some strength. A shaky breath left your lips, and you pull back from his warmth. His hand reaches your cheeks and wipes away your tears. You were able to hold eye contact with him, and his gentle smile makes you feel at ease.

"Sorry for making a-a mess on your sh-shoulder," you reached to pat dry the wetness.

He grabs your hand and intertwines it with his, "It's okay." While the other one is still wiping your rebel tears.

"Umm, I'm-I'm sorry." You mumbled and looked behind him. Finding the passing cars interesting.

He knew why you were apologizing for and clenched his jaw. "There's nothing to be sorry... Look at me."

You hesitated, but he gently grabs your chin and pulls your attention back to him.

"I want to be here with you. For you." He squeezes your hand. "Remember when I was pushing everyone away, but you were able to see through me?"

You nodded.

"I didn't know I needed someone until you came, and you told me that it's okay to feel the way I was feeling. So, what did you do?" He said a bit humorously.

You smiled at the memory.

"You made it your mission to pull me out of that hole."

"I did it because I care," you unknowingly whispered.

He squeezed your hand, "Exactly! And guess what? I care about you too."

That word care, it was still foreign to you. Strange, huh? You care about others but have a hard time believing when others say they care about you. Maybe it was because people have let you down when you needed their comfort. Or chose to ignore your cries for help.

Yet, here's this man giving you warmth and comfort. Something that you have been craving for too long. It was still foreign for you, but your craving wasn't going to deny it.

When his hands cradled your face, your cheeks flared up. This type of intimacy was a bit too much, but you welcomed it. Finally, realizing Suguru is being genuine and not acting.

Tears started to stream down, and you leaned to hug him. The man didn't hesitate to hug back.

"I hope those are happy tears."

BRB I going to go cry now. Ps. I made it home safely.

JJK Masterlist

[problematiquebitch]

Honestly I think many of the white people and "people of color" have no idea how to interact with black people and honestly it shows.

I like how people feel entitled to us and only use us as arguing points but as soon as we express an opinion or don't kiss ass it becomes an off with our head deal.

I think it's interesting how many people will sit here and run these black people are sensitive narratives when in all seriousness I fullheartedly believe black people are some of the strongest people you will ever meet when it comes to overcoming adversity and strife.

Y'all act as though history is a vaccum and try to downplay slavery and the aftermath but fail to understand the lasting implications of it and then try to blame issues such as racism continuously on black people when racism was a dividing force European aristocrats created to keep the poor from rebelling.

Even when we step aside from slavery the fact that many of you will be blind and turn a blind eye to everything that happened after June 19, 1865 and just ignore the history of what happened after as though history acts within a vaccum is extremely intellectually dishonest.

Granted I understand that discourse is discourse however, many of y'all should not be discoursing because none of y'all are trying to learn or be educated. Y'all just want to feel superior and be that mean girl no one let you be in highschool because you were a loser.

There are certain levels of maturity we all need to reach and I personally believe that one concept many people in general need to learn is the concept of understanding things and then going on to not agree with it.

Y'all may think this is a late night ramble but no this is literally spurred on from me because someone on the bird app had the fucking audacity to sit and circle jerk and say that a black person was too attention seeking because they posted about their night and they were crying because a man he approached said he was too fat and black to be asking anyone out.

I genuinely think that people who say racism isn't real or try to derail and argument and go on about racism towards white people need to stop because they aren't adding on to the conversation they're trying to derail and emotionally gaslight a sensitive issue as to not talk about an issue.

Y'all scream words like antiblackness are made up when they are words to describe a behavior that has been around and existed for decades it was just never names and put under the umbrella of racism.

Getting racial slurs thrown at you for making someone mad is not fucking normal. Saying that someone is a burnt black bitch is not fucking normal. Saying that black women and men are inherently ugly meanwhile feeling entitled to our bodies to make you feel better about yourself is not fucking normal.

Until we can get to a point in which we are able to calmly or even get the chance to talk about real life issues without being condescending and acting smug don't expect anything other than violence from me because y'all clearly have no fucking issue dishing it out so don't get upset when I dish it back.

[dreamiesdotcom]

rule #6 | l.dh

Summary: With Donghyuck, growing to love feels like a black hole, but not the depressing kind. Rather, it's something hard to get away from — like a force, a very strong force that allows no escape, and it's incredibly luminous as if going supernova.

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: hi, this is moon from somewhere august, scheduling this post before i chicken out again :D by the time it's posted, it's already Christmas so,,, merry christmas y'all who celebrate!!!! Lots of love!!!

Just like most things involving Donghyuck, falling in love with him isn't such a good idea.

That was way too sped up, though. The best way to start this story, of course, is from the very beginning— the day human migraine number one (a.k.a Jaemin) decided to bring in evil genius Huang Renjun to the circle. That would've been fine. It just so happened that beside him sat the devil incarnate, Lee Donghyuck, and that, well, is totally all four directions far away from what's acceptable.

Rule number one to surviving this life thing: Never trust cute boys with sunshine smiles and mischief in their eyes, a.k.a Donghyuck, or Haechan, whatever name he decided to go by. That's why when he reaches his hands out over the table to your direction, you quickly dismiss his attempt — "Hi! I haven't met you yet, did you skip first period? You're Y/N, ri—"

"Please never speak to me." was your reply then, and human migraine number two (a.k.a Chenle) laughs. Jaemin nags for the rest of the break, talking about manners and getting along. The fools nod alongside him. You grumble, moody for no reason and feeling particularly mean, but you warmly smile at Mark when he arrives at your table. Somewhere along the lines, you met stares with the new boy, and you give him an indifferent look.

Donghyuck took the nonchalance as a challenge.

###

The following weeks have been infuriating.

Rule #2: At all times, seek Lee Jeno's company. Unreliable as he seems when it comes to patience, the boy is quite reasonable sometimes.

Your windows align with the sweet-faced boy, your roofs almost touching — if you tried hard enough, you two could sit together, side by side, just like this. Cold wind blows, but it doesn't make you shiver. Jeno's warm, and maybe that's why you love cuddling with him so much. Maybe.

Just maybe, that could be the reason.

"I can't hear what you're saying," he slowly says, laughter seeping through his lips. You whine at that, moving away so he could see you and you could speak clearly. His hand remains holding your chin up, endearing in a soft way, but it doesn't wash away your frown. "What were you saying?"

You groan, "I said, he's so annoying! The audacity, Lee Jeno, he had the audacity to call me ba—"

Jeno watches you with tender eyes. Your heart softens, and you forget whatever next words you had to say. Maybe things will be okay? He's here, after all. Just right next door.

At least, something is going right.

###

This new boy, it seems, is appealing to many. During his first week, people have constantly trying to 'show him around', and that excuse doesn't die down until one month. From then on, people just keep following him around with "Good morning, Haechan!", "Goodbye, Haechan!" and "How was the weekends for you, Haechan-ssi?"

To be honest, it's something you had to grow used to even way before the showed up. Having Na Jaemin and Mark Lee from the Basketball team in your circle just really has a way of putting the spotlight on your lunch table. Not to mention, Renjun, Jeno, and Jisung, who despite being quiet, just has a certain charm to them — Jaemin's words, not yours. And oh, don't even get started on Chenle. That boy is a social butterfly.

The difference is that he keeps entertaining them, unlike the others who awkwardly laughs or just greets back — safe to say that sometimes, the 'goodness' of his heart gets in the way of your education and daily life. Times just like this.

Jisung's name shines brightly at the top of the list. You cling to the boy excitedly, pinching his cheeks and slightly bouncing on your heels, "You made it on the dance team, Sungie! Oh my God, oh my Go—"

"Y/N..." he drawls out, both hands resting on your shoulder as if to calm you down, but the excitement in his eyes betrays his intentions. On the other side, Renjun waves at you with the others. It makes you chuckle, and you motion for them come — that is, of course, until someone pushes you, almost sending you to the ground if not for Jisung catching you midfall.

The girl furrows her brows, "Move, you're blocking the way."

Your palms itch at that moment, and you couldn't believe just what you heard — the nerve!

"Where's your manners?" rings Donghyuck's voice from where he's slowly making way towards you with the others, a grimace on each of their faces. Attitude seeps from his gaze, the kind that would've made someone quiver. "Don't go around pushing people."

"Wh—"

"Stop." you clench your hands to fists, thanking Jisung before straightening up. Through gritted teeth, you calmly look at the girl with a scowl on her face. "Look, I'm sorry, but can you politely ask me to move next time? That's be appreciated, thank you."

After bidding the others a small smile, you turn around to make your way to the library. What? For peace? For space? Just to be as far away from the boy following you right now as possible? You don't even know at this point. You feel like your celebration is ruined and all you want is distance from the person you dislike the most — to be honest, you don't know anything about him aside from the fact that he's Lee Donghyuck and that he's annoying, and that you automatically hate him. You don't plan on knowing more. That's why before entering the library, you turn around to face him with a solemn look.

"Thank you." he halts in shock. His smile widens, but you look at him with the same seriousness in your face. "But don't do it again. I don't need saving, Lee Donghyuck."

Later that night, you grit your teeth as you write down another rule: Say your gratitude but don't get used to the way he saves you. You're not a damsel. Just hand the goddamn sword or you'll be fine with your fists — maybe your eyes for daggers, too.

####

Rule #3: Never go to him for comfort.

22nd of April, 10:35 p.m. You close your eyes and wait. The clock hits eleven and you open the door for the others, greeting everyone with a cheerful smile. "Where's Jaemin?"

Mark shrugs, "Said he has an essay. He'll be late for a bit, but he'll make it before 12."

23rd of April, 12:00 a.m, your heartbeat races. Everything's all set, everyone's in the living room. You take out your phone with a giggle, typing out 'Happy Birthday, dummy!!!' with the biggest grin on your face. Jisung judges you slightly, but he quickly forgets it when a taunting yell from Renjun comes. You sit in the kitchen, staring at the delicately decorated cake, and you wait.

One hour turns to two, then three. Your smile fades slightly, and you check your phone for replies. When nothing comes, you click over his contact shakily.

To: Star <3

Happy Birthday, dummy!!!

Hey, Jen? You're one door away from me and yet you're an hour late.

Birthday boy, you're not ditching us on your own celebration, aren't ya?

When are you coming over ;-;

From: Star <3

I'm sorry!!!

Sorry but I'll be late!

Jaeminnie really needs my help with something.

We'll be there! I'm sorry, Y/N

Your smile disappears. Sullenly making your way to the living room, you count your steps to keep your ground. You look at the others in front of you with a smile, "Go start the movie, I'll wait for Jeno and Jaemin outside. Deal?"

"Sure." Chenle chirps, his grin never fading. Must be because of cheating his way through besting Jisung, Donghyuck, Mark, and Renjun at Monopoly for the past three hours, probably ruining their friendship. Oblivious to the world, Renjun grumbles something about Jeno never being punctual, that he'd pray that trait onto him as a birthday gift. You glance at them before heading back outside, sitting down outside your door, head in between your knees.

A tear. Maybe two. Is this how heartbreak feels like? The kind of crying where you can't even make a sound because people could hear, but then even your teardrops seem to be so loud.

The door opens and you put your head up, hurriedly wiping them away. You put on your best smile until Donghyuck occupies the space beside you. He hands you a handkerchief.

"Don't," he whispers when you obviously hold down a sob, and he leans you on his chest. You cry freely there — you don't know why you let him of all people, but all you know was that you couldn't think straight; desperation blooms on your chest like fresh flowers die over time, and he doesn't judge. He just holds you — no cheesy pet name, no flirty looks, no catch. Just someone to be with.

At 4 a.m with Lee Donghyuck, the starless sky and the moon all alone looks a little less lonely. In front of you, the sun begins to rise.

##

Rule #4: Aaaaand if you don't follow the preceding rule, then, you're fucked. This is your mess. Good luck, you're alone on this one.

After Jeno's birthday (and after he made up to you, he spent a month doing that.) something just begins to change. A pleasant shift, according to Mark.

From that day, something in you says that maybe, just maybe, he's not so bad and you were just unfair to him. This realization must be something brought by time; slowly, you got used to Renjun and Hyuck being a part of your circle. These tutoring sessions must be a factor as well, judging how to two get to spend time alone in the same table as you can't possibly study with the others around you.

Donghyuck would do anything to evade mathematics, though. At least that's what it looks like right now, as he doodles around the margins instead of solving the problems, and then opens a topic, "Nana and Jisung looks cute together. Should've known they wouldn't be serious with each other, him and Jeno."

You roll your eyes, but not the way you did back then. It's way softer, much more affectionate. "It's been a year, let them be."

"So what? It's only been a year." he seems really determined to waste time. He even makes a show of briefly making eye contact before pouting at the paper, "You and Jeno still pretend to be just friends, but the whole school's just waiting for you two to kiss."

You chuckle, "We don't."

"You do."

"Used to." you correct. You look over to the other table, Jaemin and Jeno throwing a banter while Jisung begs them to stop before Renjun smacks them all with a book. You gaze down the notes you're studying before shrugging, "Things change."

"Example?" he tentatively asks, absentmindedly tracing the letters and numbers scattered around his notebook. You rest your chin on your palm.

"Well, now, I might like you." because honestly, you do. He's a great company, although sometimes overwhelming and annoying. Especially that most of the time when he's with Jaemin, they brew the worst ideas together and it's pretty much storm from there.

It would be a lie to say that it's not one of the things that makes you feel warm, slowly growing fond. Your voice softens as he tilts up to meet your gaze, and you flash him a saccharine smile. "Soon, it might not be because you're my friend."

Things like this make you feel like you've missed everything with Jeno, all the things you both could've had; it's like you should've been like this. It's like you should've been holding hands, or walking down the streets, or sitting on a rooftop and asking for a kiss. The kind that would send a rush of energy on your veins, shaking you back to life, losing you to the dream that is the way his lips move against you. But best friends don't do that, so you don't.

Hyuck is not Jeno, though. He's not your best friend.

With Donghyuck, growing to love feels like a black hole, but not the depressing kind. Rather, it's something hard to get away from — like a force, a very strong force that allows no escape, and it's incredibly luminous as if going supernova.

###

Rule #5: Well, seems like you can't back out now. Love him. Love him so much that the sunshine in his eyes never fades.

"Why are we celebrating Mark's last day in town?" Donghyuck sits down in the living room, looking around at the place — balloons, snacks, a cake, everyone in your friend group. He sets down his gift, "Are we that glad that he's leaving?"

Mark huffs, "You'd fucking cry once you miss me and I'm cities away, Lee Donghyuck."

"I won't miss you because I'm coming over to your dorm every day and I'm dragging everyone with me." Donghyuck smiles and even when Mark shoves him a little at that, everyone knows that he's happy the younger said that. He flashes his sly smile, "You, however... ah, what do we do? Mark might miss me so much he fails three subjects."

Everyone cackles at that, and Mark only raises his arms at surrender, saying something about not joking like that because he's honestly 'terrified to start hell', wanting to just stay here and finish school with all of you, ranting about how troublesome it is to transfer. You lean back on your loveseat, lightly kicking Hyuck's feet. "What?"

"You talk like this but you'd sulk tomorrow, wouldn't you?" You taunt, snickering. "This is false advertising."

Donghyuck gapes as the others fall over laughing. "Oi, are you trying to help me fill out all the ten reasons I hate you?"

"You have only ten for me?" you add, and for some reason, that makes the others laugh harder. "I have a hundred for you, Hyuckie."

"I could write you thousands—"

Jeno scrunches his face, hands moving to cover Donghyuck's mouth. "Just please go kiss each other."

Donghyuck tears away from his hold, rolls his eyes, and waves goodbye. He tugs you away from Jaemin and then leads you upstairs, but not before one last banter with Jeno, who, in his all confused expression, tilts his head in question, "Ya, where are you going?"

"I'm not kissing Y/N in front of you fools."

And true to his word, that's what he does.

Donghyuck smiles like the world is kind, like unending unconditional love, without boundaries nor fears. He kisses like that, too, passionate and deep. He does it like it's the end of the world, as if it's the only thing he wants to do. He does it like he's thanking every single thing that led him up to this moment. He kissed you under those stars in his balcony, a hand warm on your waist with the other softly caressing your jaw, and it seemed like it lasted forever.

Because that's the truth. The last time never feels like the last time. There had to be more to this than what the skies have laid down.

Inside your dreamy little mind, Donghyuck was eternal and the love you shared was forever. That's what happened. You thought you had forever.

You thought you had forever, but you didn't.

###

Rule #6: But that won't make him stay if he's bound to leave. Accept that and love him, still. Love him through the rain.

"Lee Jeno tripped!" yells Chenle's loud voice, gaining the attention of everybody in the room, "And fell in love with Y/N, totally whipped that they can't even shop separately!"

"Hell, Chenle, where's your mute button?" Renjun hissed, "We gotta buy presents too. Who decided to do this so late, though? It's the 24th! You guys should've done it weeks ago!"

"Let's go?" Jeno asks, blatantly ignoring Renjun as he waits for you to take his hands. You smirk, waving the folded paper to the others after entwining fingers with him.

"Bye, losers! See y'all later~" you wink. Before being dragged out the Cafe, you point at your friends' direction "Whoever had my name better give me a decent gift, or Christmas is cancelled!"

"Baby, stop that," he asks, squeezing your hands to make you calm down. Your laugh even louder. He smiles, "Who did you get?"

"Hey, Lee, you don't get special treatment just because I'm dating you. It's a secret." you roll your eyes, a skip in your step even though the weather is cold. Jeno steals a peck on your cheeks, and your eyes widen. "Lee Jeno!"

Before you could even catch him, he's already running away from you, and you're almost falling over laughing as you try to catch up to him. He meets you at the end, in front of a busy mall, and catches you with a hug. You laugh on his chest, warm against his hold.

If memories come washing over you, no one has to know. Jeno looks lovely against white. He feels like art on a Christmas day, so beautiful and warm and special. That's all that matters.

"We agreed that we wouldn't try..." Donghyuck whispers, arms around you, "if things will get too harsh on the other, didn't we?"

"Yeah... if I was to leave, Hyuck, I don't want you waiting on me." you responded, half-asleep and sincere, "But I'm only saying it because I'm not leaving."

Donghyuck laughed, "Well, just making sure that if that happens, we'll meet again, yeah?"

"Hyuck, shut up. Nobody's leaving." you groaned, stirring at the joyful yelling downstairs. "Looks like it's 12 already. Merry Christmas, baby."

"Mhm, Merry Christmas. I love you." He smiles, leaves a slow, gentle kiss on your lips. "I love you. I'll love you even more this year."

Does moving away without a word count as loving someone more than you did the past year?

"You're spacing out." Jeno smiles, "Am I that handsome?"

"You always are. Stunning." you quickly reply, a little guilty. You enter the busy room and part ways so that you could shop for your gifts, but not before deciding on a meeting point and leaving a sweet, loving kiss. "Come back, yeah?"

"Of course." he nods before parting ways. Your heart remains at peace — as planned, at the end of the day, Jeno would come back to you at the entrance. He won't leave like the other did. He won't do that to you...

Two hours before Christmas, you sit down on your own for a bit, occasionally distracted by the noise. At their loudness, you can make out Mark trying to calm everybody down, Jaemin threatening murder to keep Jisung and Mark away from the kitchen, Jeno convincing Chenle to get a dog. As you write down their yearly letters, you can't get rid of the smile on your face.

Why they decided to spend this holiday at yours, you don't really understand. Can't say you're against it, though. It's perfect; the tree all of you built together, the presents, the games you'll spend the night playing. The friendship.

Only that someone's missing. As if to lessen the pain, you write his name down on the paper — except it's not a new one, but rather, the page you've been foolishly writing your rules on; the rules that never stood a chance to save you. You trace your hands over the words, but you quickly shake nostalgia away as you turn the page over.

Hello, Donghyuck-ah!

You know the drill. For some time, you received some of my letters, didn't you? After all, we spent some years together... as enemies, as friends, as lovers. You probably memorized how it goes: I'll dwell on the year, I'll tell you how I chose your gift, I'll try to say how much I adore you, and then I'll thank you for being here.

Unfortunately this time, I can't tell you how our year went... I didn't spend it with you. I wasn't able to get you a gift, too, because I don't know if your preferences changed. And I can't thank you for being here. I can't because you're not.

Though I could still tell you that I love you, now it's kind of different. It's less of something that desperately needs you, and more of the kind that longs for you. Jeno and I got together at last. It's complicated how we happened, but we gave it a try and... just. That. You won't read this, but I still want you to know... even if this will never reach you.

Remember that we said that we'll meet again? Well, where are you? Are you happy? How's life been, miles away from home, from your friends, Hyuck-ah?

Merry Christmas. I hope you're happy.

I hope you are, of course, I do. I want you to be happy, I do. I can't wish for anything more — I want you to be happy... just that I hope you're sad sometimes, too, just like me... because of me. I want your heart to break sometimes too. I want you to cry sometimes too. In those empty spaces, I want you to remember me.

And I know you won't do any of that, but in my twisted imagination, you do. And you are.

You're the happiest you could be, but not that much — not happy enough that you'd forget me.

[littleoddwriter]

Embarrassment | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask | Smut

"if requests are open can i just get zsasz being really dumb but with some praise and/or daddy kink thrown in?" anon

A/N: I hope my interpretation of this is alright with you. I went with ZsaszMask here, since you didn't specify who Zsasz would be with; and since he wasn't exactly listed as a character for Reader fics, I assumed you were just asking for ZsaszMask. I really hope I got that right. If not, let me know, please! 

summary; Victor commonly mispronounces words, the wrong person hears it and mocks him for it to Roman’s face. Roman gives his boy a treat and then praises him because, yes, he isn’t very skilled when speaking, but he is still such a good boy for him! With it, smut ensues.

notes; TW // Implied Murder (non-descriptive); Very quick, throw-away mention of Child Abuse in the first paragraph. KINKS: Daddy!Kink; Praise Kink; Slight pet play, too; Anal Sex; Quick Prep. PWP/Loose plot; Lemon; Smut; kind of Emotional Hurt/Comfort, too, but like, they are ZsaszMask, don’t expect too much; A little softness in the end, too.

Roman absolutely hated it when someone mispronounced words in any way, shape or form. It made his blood boil. Mostly, he believed, it was because of his parents. If he had said something wrong, even if it was just the pronunciation, then he would be punished. Obviously, he tried to avoid that at all costs as time went on, which made him hyper-aware of when other people butchered a word or even an entire sentence, as a side effect.

Unfortunately, his partner in crime and lapdog had a rather slurred way of speaking and mispronounced a lot of words. He still wasn't sure if he was just stupid and wasn't educated, or perhaps he really was just lazy as all hell.

Either way, it happened multiple times a day that Zsasz would say something wrong. Roman has stopped being truly annoyed with him for it after a while. By now, he just corrected him and moved on. Of course, he had tried to teach Victor, but he just didn't really catch on to it; and frankly, he had better things to do than teach a grown man to speak properly.

Now, usually it wasn't even a big problem anyway, since Roman was basically the only person Zsasz really spoke to. So no one normally witnessed Victor's poor speaking skills. If anything, they were his staff anyway, so it didn't matter, they wouldn't dare say something about it.

Until, of course, one day the wrong person had heard it after all.

Roman had been conversing with a potential business partner, when Victor came back from running an errand for him. It was like clockwork; when Roman was talking, he wasn't to be interrupted, so he waited until he was done to tell him anything important that might have happened on the errand. He only ever interrupted him when it absolutely couldn't wait.

Obediently, Zsasz stood next to Roman and waited. When he was done talking, he lifted his hand and excused himself to the man he was speaking with, so Victor could tell him whatever was burning on his tongue.

"Boss, Johnson's guys have defiantly got the message. Expecially himself. He's retreating now and trying to get on your better side again, but I doupt you want that. D'you?"

Roman didn't even bother to correct him, though he clenched his fists to try and stop the urge to do it anyway. They were in public with someone he didn't trust and he didn't want to humiliate Victor like that. He knew that he tried at least a little, after all. Especially when they were with someone he didn't know.

Before Sionis could even reply anything, a terribly mocking cackle sounded from his right. It was that fuck he had been trying to get a deal with.

"Is he really that fucking stupid or does he just act like it, huh? God, that's embarrassing. I can't believe you let him run around talking like that, Mr Sionis," he sneered.

For just a split second hurt was reflected in Victor's eyes. It was like a punch to Roman's gut. Zsasz was basically never hurt by anything or anyone, only few people, among which was Roman himself, could achieve that.

Zsasz straightened up and acted like he didn't hear anything, assuming his usual position behind where Roman sat, so he could watch over him.

"Well, I believe that business deal we had planning to get going is over now. Thank you so much for coming in, but it's time for you to leave, 'kay?" Roman said clasping his hands together and a big fake grin on his face, his tone strained.

The other man sputtered. "Excuse me? We were just in the middle of-"

"Yes, yes, I am aware. Anyway, I do not want to keep talking to you any longer. So get out!" His anger became more palpable by the second.

Some of his men escorted the fake fuck out, after he whispered to one of them to knock him out and bring him to their closest warehouse.

Then Roman turned around to face Victor, who looked rather dumb-founded.

"Boss?"

"C'mon, baby. I'm having him brought to the closest warehouse we own. Then you can go and have some fun with that stupid fuck, hm? How's that sound, my boy?"

His eyebrows climbing up his forehead in surprise, Victor nodded. Obviously, he knew that this deal was actually a little important to Roman, but nothing seemed to be more important than his pet being happy.

Sometimes, he really despised that.

They went to the warehouse, when it was all set up and he gave Victor all the freedom he could have wanted with the other man. It was beautiful, a sight to behold, really. The way Victor freed people from this awful world was always breathtakingly stunning to him. But when he was also upset by one of those people and had creative freedom? Just marvelous, a true masterpiece that came out of it. Such as the tally, that now sat in the crook of his elbow, always visible, always a reminder.

Eventually, they arrived back at home, aroused from the beautiful way this fake fuck has been slaughtered, and Roman also had the urge to indulge his little boy and praise him for always being so good for him. So he was set on doing just that.

As soon as they came into the bedroom, he grabbed Victor's wrist and turned him around to face him, smashing their lips together in a searing kiss. Zsasz moaned into it, opening his mouth a little. Roman slid his tongue into the other's mouth immediately, fucking it in and out of Victor's mouth, playing with his tongue.

After doing just that for about a minute, he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Victor's, panting.

"Be a good boy for Daddy and undress yourself and then lie down on the bed, 'kay?" Roman rasped, kissing Zsasz once more before twirling his finger to signalise him to get going.

Sionis kept watching his boy, while he undressed, folding his clothes and putting them on a nearby chair. He had taught him so well. When he was completely naked, Victor lied down on his back on the soft mattress of their bed. Then he looked at Roman, waiting for further instructions.

Getting rid of his shoes, socks, blazer and gloves, Roman climbed onto the bed and over Zsasz. He was only wearing a plain black shirt and his dark blue suit pants, now. He lifted Victor's legs, spreading them, and kneeled between them, situating them over each of his thighs, pressing his hard cock against the other man's ass. Then he leaned over Zsasz, bracketing his head between his forearms with which he supported himself on the bed. Their faces were merely half an inch apart, breathing each other's air.

"You're my good little boy, aren't you?"

Victor could only nod for a moment. Roman nipped his ear and grinned against it, his lips brushing his ear shell.

"Yes, you are. And you know what? I'm very proud of you, baby. You're always so good to me, always so good for Daddy, hm?"

Zsasz keened in the back of his throat, pushing up his hips. Fuck, he was so easily desperate when it came to being praised by Roman.

"Soon, baby. Be patient, 'kay?" Another nod, another keen. "Use your words, baby, c'mon."

"Yes, Daddy!"

"That's my good boy," he murmured.

Then he leaned back a little again, so he was able to really look at Victor. It was hell on his back, but he didn't care, as their chests and stomachs were pressed together, feeling each other breathe heavily. Victor's hard cock was poking his abdomen, just like his own was pressing against his crack.

"You've done something truly remarkable with this asshole, y'know? What a work of art! Oh, Victor, I'm so lucky, baby."

"Thank you, Daddy," Victor replied the way he was taught to, and fuck, it had Roman's cock twitch.

Roman smiled at him, fondly, adoration clear in his eyes. "I always appreciate how dutiful you are, how you know exactly when to do what, when to speak, what to say. You're so good at it, my boy. Such an obedient little doggy, aren't you? Yes, you are, of course you are."

He leaned down to press a couple of sweet kisses to his lips, smiling into them. Victor gripped onto his bicep and back, trying to keep him as close as possible, unable to not touch him.

"Didn't I disappoint you, though?" Zsasz asked, looking so unsure and like a kicked puppy.

"No, no of course not. Oh, baby, my sweet boy, never you. He was a stupid fake fucking fuck, 'kay? He didn't know you, didn't know to respect me and my assets. And now he's paid for it, hasn't he? Then you mispronounced some fucking words! Now what? He had no fucking reason to talk about you like that, especially not to me. Fuck, I wish we could kill him again, baby. The fucking audacity of this fucker!"

"But I embarrassed you."

"No, you haven't. The only embarrassment there was this fuck thinking he was being funny and saying something of value. Like I said, baby, you're so good for Daddy. Always."

He kissed him again, and again, and again. Then he finally got rid of his pants, underwear and shirt, before diving back in and devouring Victor's mouth with fervor. While he was doing that, he was blindly retrieving the lube from the bedside table and clicking it open, squirting some onto his fingers.

Roman shifted a little, so he could reach down and insert one lubed up finger into Victor's behind, making him moan into the kiss with it. He moved it in and out quickly, stretching him enough to insert a second finger, sicossoring them to stretch his rim for a third finger. It was a quick preparation, as Victor was used to it, but also really liked it when it burned, so they made sure to stretch him enough to not damage him or Roman, and then they were ready to go.

Sionis grabbed the lube once more and spread it on his hard cock, slicking it up thoroughly. Then he guided it into Victor's stretched hole, pressing in slowly but surely. When he was fully sheathed inside of him, they both moaned in unison into their still connected mouths.

Then Roman started thrusting inside of Victor, pulling out and shoving back in, in a quick, brutal rhythm that drove them both crazy.

"Such a good boy. Oh, baby, you're so good for me, look at you. Taking it so fucking well, hm? Ah, fuck! Yes, so tight even after I've been fucking you almost every day for the past decade, huh? Fuckfuckfuck, you're so good, such a wonderful little boy. Just for me, aren't you? You're only my good boy, aren't you? Say it!"

Victor's eyes rolled back, as Roman repeatedly hit his prostate, but he still tried to get out a sentence in-between desperate little moans, "Y-yes, ah, yes! Only yours. Your good boy. Ah, yours! Daddy!"

"Fuck, shit, Victor, ah, I'm gonna come. Oh, baby, I'm gonna fill you up so good, huh? Because my baby deserves the best, hm? Fuck!"

As his thrusts became increasingly erratic, Roman grabbed Victor's cock in his hand and jacked him off in quick movements and a tight grip, making him paint his own chest and stomach after just half a minute. Zsasz moaned loudly and completely unintelligible as he came.

Roman followed him soon after, pressing inside of his partner and staying there, filling him up with his warm, sticky come, moaning and groaning loudly and almost like a porn star.

After a few seconds, in which either of them caught their breaths, Roman pulled out and collapsed next to Victor, their legs tangled, their faces an inch apart and panting.

When they've come down from their orgasmic highs, Roman stroked over Victor's chest, smearing his come over it and rubbing it into his skin, smiling. The scars made it a unique and pleasant sensation to him.

"Don't let that fucker get to you, 'kay? You aren't embarrassing. I don't care that you butcher most words that come out of your mouth. It doesn't make you less of a good little boy for me, alright?"

"Okay, yeah. Thank you," Victor rasped, pressing a kiss to the other's lips.

It was all so fucking soft.

Under different circumstances, it would make Roman feel sick; but even he had a soft spot, which apparently only consisted of this human lapdog called Victor Zsasz. 

[voidstilesplease]

By the Angel, TALK

Warning: THIS IS AN ANTI-CLARY AND JACE SPOILER RANT because I need an avenue to let out some of the steam I've been holding off since starting City of Fallen Angels. So PLEASE SKIP AHEAD because I don't want to burden you all with my reading woes.

This thing centers on the beginning of Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire and a little bit of Chapter 8. About eight pages of bad, bad romance set me off.

To start,

The rest is under the cut, so you can go away now.

So, what's been happening to Clary and Jace thus far?

This book introduced them now as an official couple, picking up from the end of TMI Book 3: City of Glass. I don't remember their every scene since then to the point in Chapter 9 where I stopped, but basically, they're having relationship issues early on. They're less than two months into their relationship, and the drama is too frickin much. 

Jace has these weird dreams about murdering Clary and waking up guilty about his subconscious thoughts, so he goes angsting about it and avoiding her, snapping at her, being a total dick, and still question why people think they are on the brink of a break-up. 

So, Jace goes with Simon in the next few scenes, in his plight to get away from her as far as possible, yet still be somehow close by being around Clary's best friend to "protect" him, so his distant behavior will be reasonable and forgivable. Yeah, make that make sense. 🙄 But of course, one way or another, they're going to have to get to the confrontation part (that I still wish had been equivalent to an actual break-up), and so that's when Chapter 8 & 9 enters.

Chapter 8: Walk in Darkness pp. 185-186

Almost instantly, the light went out of them, and the remaining color drained out of his face. "I thought --- Simon said you weren't coming." ¹

[...] "So you only came because you thought I wouldn't be here? [...] Were you ever planning on talking to me again? [...] If you're going to break it off, the least you could do is tell me, not just stop talking to me and leave me to figure it out on my own."

"Why does everyone keep goddamn asking me if I'm going to break up with you? [...]²

First, what an asshole?! 

[1] So Jace finally in-your-face's Clary and confirms that he has been keeping his distance like Clary has the plague. He then has the audacity to [2] be annoyed for being questioned on his intentions of keeping the relationship that he has been actively evading for days!

I get that Jace sucks in romantic relationships and has been fucked up by his daddy-issues, but he has the Lightwoods. Heck, Alec is his parabatai. He sees working relationships, so he has to have known that you don't just stop talking to people close to you and have them not question the behavior, whether you're trying to pull away from them or not. Otherwise, then Jace is dumb for all that he's marketed as the "best" Shadowhunter in his age. Screw that.

---

“You talked to Simon about us?" Clary shook her head. "Why? Why aren't you talking to me?"

"Because I can't talk to you," Jace said. "I can't talk to you, I can't be with you, I can't even look at you."³

[3] Way to make a girl feel special, Jace. Oh, no, yeah. He's trying to do the opposite and push her away with some teenage boy angst that doesn't make any sense. Like, who says that, though, aside from dramatic love interests that can't make a better excuse for going emo? 

That line IS TOO DRAMATIC that it hurts, ugh. 🤮

Anyway, so Clary walks out after that. I don't sympathize with her, but I'd do the same. Who wouldn't? Unless you freeze in the ridiculousness of the situation, that is, which is also likely.

Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire pp. 190-195

Now, here's the real shit. I want to quote this entire six-page scene back to Cassie and scream at her.

Clary reached the door and burst out into the rain-drenched evening air. [...] and was about to race across the street against the light when a hand caught her arm and spun her around.

It was Jace. [...] "Clary, didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Let go of me." Her voice shook.

"No. Not until you talk to me."⁴

[4] DUDE, what even happened to your I CAN'T TALK TO YOU, I CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT YOU speech, huh? Be consistent for once, apart from your douchebag routine. Make up your mind, Jace.

---

Still holding her by the arm, he half-dragged her around the van and into a narrow alley that bordered the Alto Bar. ⁵

[5] Man, I love a bit of rough loving in my literature, but I'm so pissed at you, Jace, don't even. Lay the hell off.

---

"I was going to tell you that I was trying to help out Simon. [...]

"And you couldn't tell me? Couldn't text me a single line letting me know where you were?"⁶ [...]

[...]

"I think," he said slowly, "that I thought that the closest thing to being with you was being with Simon. Watching out for him. I had some stupid idea that you'd realize I was doing it for you and forgive me---"⁷

[6] Addressing the lack of communication, that's a great path to follow. These two need to talk so bad. [7] But this line? Sucks Balls. You could be with her, Jacey, and save all the readers your drama if you only pull your head out of your ass and try to communicate. It's like you're allergic to it.

---

She took a step back, blindly, and nearly tripped over an abandoned speaker. Her bag slid to the ground as she put her hand out to right herself, but Jace was already there. He moved forward to catch her, and kept moving until her back hit the alley wall, and his arms were around her, and he was kissing her frantically.⁸

[8] Not only is this achingly cheesy, but it's also totally not the way they should be going off about their situation. They were already talking -arguing, yes, but they're still using words to reach out, and their relationship absolutely cannot be healthy without them. Thus far, they have spoken so less in comparison with the times they've spent canoodling. They're not solving anything by having drama on one second and getting it on with dramatic kissing on the next.

I don't care what Clary says about being so lost in love with Jace. He's treating her like shit. The least he can do is give her answers that she has the right to demand from him. Kissing is not an answer. But, well, maybe to Clary, it is because the next parts from page 192 to 194 are spent on softcore porn in a dark alley under the frickin rain. I bet that's a very romantic setting in their minds, huh.

---

And now this part:

It was nerve-wracking. She could feel the feverish heat that came off him; her hands were still on his shoulders, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him wrapped around her, holding her tight. "W-why," she breathed. "can't you talk to me? Why can't you look at me?"

He ducked his head down to look into her face. His eyes, surrounded by lashes darkened with rainwater, were impossibly gold.

"Because I love you."⁹

[9] Is that supposed to make me tingle? SET ME ON FIRE, but that is the lousiest I love you in books that I have ever read. AND IT'S THE ONLY ONE THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE, at all!

Shut up with this, can you please. It's not romantic at all. It's a dumb excuse and an even dumber love from the two dumbest people in this whole frickin series. Oh my god.

Clary, realistically, will frown at this answer. She will pull the hell away and spat him in the face with how demeaning his love is if it can make her sick to the stomach with thinking he has already gone bored and is only cooking the perfect way to cut off their connection. He hasn't given her a sound reason, only desperate declarations of love like he's trying to convince them both that it's true. And it doesn't make sense how she's still plastered around him in the cold, trying to convince the readers that every word from Jace has deeper meanings that she understands no matter how gibberish they are. I'm not buying that, okay? Stop selling your larger-than-life connection bullshit because that isn't real.

You've only been together for two months, okay? The strongest you can feel for each other is lust. And it's showing.

---

His hands slid down to her waist and he kissed her, long and lingering, making her shudder.

She pulled away, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Neither does this," he said, "but I don't care. I'm sick of trying to pretend I can live without you. Don't you understand that? Can't you see it's killing me?"¹⁰

She stared at him. She could see that he meant what he said [...] Her desire for answers battled the more primal part of her brain, and lost. "Kiss me then,"¹¹

[10] NOBODY THREATENED YOU UNDER BLADE TO DO THAT BULLSHIT, so shut the hell up with the whining. [11] and Clary, I am so disappointed. You've both just drained me, and I'm dry inside like a raisin.

The next paragraphs describe their very erotic kissing against the wall. Jace, propping her up and her legs around his waist bull crap. Seriously? Am I supposed to believe these two are, what sixteen?- up until Isabelle thankfully ruins their moment by kicking a garbage can that would look better with Jace and Clary in it tbh.

---

And the nastiest horseshit of all:

Clary looked at Jace. At any other time, they would have laughed together at Isabelle's moodiness, but there was no humor in his expression, and she knew immediately that whatever they had had between them ---whatever had blossomed out of his momentary lack of control--- it was gone now. [...]

"Jace---" she took a step toward him.

"Don't," he said, his voice very rough. "I can't."¹²

And then he was gone [...]

[12] No, I frickin CANNOT. His actions keep on contradicting his words, and he's fickle and can't decide which mood to settle, and it's so exhausting, honestly. He wasted a few pages for a cosmic, meaningless declaration of feelings. They're empty words. At this point, I believe the writing only strives to convince the readers that these characters care for each other but is shitty at showing it.

It's not love, because they say it is love.

---

I was already gaining hope for this book, and then one simple few-pages scene with clace squishes it, smearing the innards on my face.

Honestly, TALK OR TAKE A BREAK. This back and forth can't continue throughout the rest of the book or -heaven forbid- the rest of the series. Or at least, put these characters in the background if they really must drag on this problem, because I care not a lick.

Bye.

[thewolfmanslayer]

Honestly the amount of people who say artists and writers should do stuff for free, or try to rip them off on comissions still royally piss me off.

I think the worst part of it is the entitlement, I dont want to make this too much about generations but a lot of commissioners are millenial/Gen z's who grew up on the "steal and pirate everything" mentality, take everything that you can because no one else is going to hand it to you. which I can get behind, when you are screwing over MULTI BILLION DOLLAR COMPANIES. NOT THE STRUGGLING ARTISTS AND WRITERS who are trying to keep food on the table as desperately as you probably are!

It's simple, you wouldn't walk into a restaurant, order food and tell the server "sorry I don't have any money, but I've got like a few thousand followers on social media, I can get your name out there, get the restaurant some exposure" NO! They don't need "exposure" they need you to pay the damn bill!

On top of that, most of these artists and writers ALREADY HAVE FOLLOWINGS. They already have thousands of people following them, waiting for the chance to get a commission, who are willing to pay for said commission, they don't need "exposure" when they're already out there! He'll even the artists and writers with a few hundred don't need it, they'll get more followers as time goes by, their skill alone will see to it.

And what is with people trying to get free art and writing? It's not going to work! You can't harass someone until they cave, trust me, you'll be long since blocked before you even have the opportunity. I don't do comissions, online anyways, but my own friends and family, people who actually know me STILL PAY ME whenever they ask for me to do art for them because they KNOW it takes TIME AND EFFORT.

How many times do we need to have this discussion???? Like when is it going to finally click that people who need to pay their bills just as much as you do AREN'T going to do this shit for free!?

Here's the thing about art and writing, that you've heard a billion times but still aren't getting; IT. TAKES. TIME. AND. EFFORT. TO. GET. DONE. the art isn't going to magically appear and the writing isn't going to suddenly write itself, if either were so convenient YOU WOULDNT BE ASKING AN ARTIST OR WRITER IN THE FIRST PLACE!

Look at that, you see that? The first picture I did back in 2012-13, the picture beside it? I did that TWO YEARS AGO. I didn't suddenly know exactly what to do, or had anything close to a god given talent for drawing (I'm not that talented). The first picture WAS THE ABSOLUTE BEST I COULD DO AT THE TIME THAT I MADE IT. In the time between these two drawings I admittedly took a break from art, but then I got back into it four years ago. EVEN STILL that was four YEARS of starting over from the basics, relearning everything, learning new things, wanting to actually improve my art.

Which, guess what, DID NOT HAPPEN OVER NIGHT. It was HOURS UPON HOURS of my limited free time as an adult drawing over and over and over and over again, every single goddamn day to get to the point that I was able to make that redraw look as good as it does in comparison. He'll, my art now puts them both to shame! Because I spent the time improving my quality!!

Now look at these artists doing comissions, they've probably put EVEN MORE of their time to get that good! They've put in LITERAL YEARS of sweat, blood, tears, frustrations and dedicated hardwork. Some did the same as me, self teaching and lots of practice, others probably had to go to school, which definitely wasn't cheap. But all of us put in that time and effort TO REACH THESE POINTS. Of being better artists, developing our styles, getting faster at drawing.

And maybe you think that this is super easy, right? That I or every other artist can just fire some art off and boom its good and done in like an hour?

FUCK. NO.

Even now it takes me several hours a day OVER MANY DAYS to make something exceptionally good! It doesn't matter how good an artist is, it still. Takes. Time.

Maybe the issue is that you don't understand how much actually goes into art, let me break it down for you, the steps that most people follow to finish ONE drawing.

-Rough draft: general character outline, get a feel for what I want to draw.

-Rough sketch: I start doing a bit of pencil to start filling in details like mouth, nose, eyes, hair, clothes. Ect.

-Penciling: I go over the rough sketch and clean everything up, maybe do some editing, this is when you can start making out all the details.

-Ink: I trace over the finished pencil with a pen tool and actually have the line art, everything looks clean, presentable, it actually looks like a character now. I'll spend time editing this and possibly redoing the inking many times over to get to a point where I like it.

-Flat color: I decide on which colors to use for skin tone, clothes accessories. Ect.

-Shading/highlights: I figure out where my light source is and how strong it is, I then apply the correct amount of lighting and shadows to the color to give it depth, I also have determine the texture of skin, clothes and accessories to make everything look real and natural.

-Blending: I smooth out the shading and highlights so that it looks more natural and isn't too hard (noticeable difference between color) so that it looks as natural as possible.

-Finish: I go over last minute details, finish any editing or corrections that need to be done. Once it's good I call it a day.

Each process is longer in length then the previous, with the exception of the final editing (as long as everything looks good) and even the rough draft can take some time. Over all this is SEVERAL HOURS of work for a SINGLE DRAWING.

So is it sinking in yet? How much is put into doing even a single character drawing? God forbid if its done with background. This isn't a "scratch a pen around and be done with it in ten minutes" kinda deal, no, this is SEVERAL HOURS OF SOMEONES LIFE BEING PUT INTO THIS

And if you still have the AUDACITY to try and wrangle free art from an artist then there's no helping you, you're just a selfish piece of shit, no question and I want nothing to do with you.

Someone might say "But I got free art/writing from.-" look I don't give a shit if someone did something for you THAT ONE TIME, these other artists and writers? Totally seperate and different people. You're one freebie experience does not, and should not apply to other artists and writers.

"But what if I really want this commission but don't have the money right now?" Well, that's tough shit. Save up and properly commission them when you can, it's not their problem.

"But what if I'm in a really bad financial situation and really want it?" That sucks, and I'm sorry, but again, not their problem. Chances are this is their only source of income and they need to make money so that they don't end up in a similar situation.

"They have a gift! They should share it!" What kind of cheap ass- LOOK, just because someone is talented or really good at something does not automatically obligate them to do anything for total strangers in anyway shape or form. These are living, breathing people, the same as you. They need to eat, they need to pay rent/mortgages, they need to pay vet bills, send their kids to college, do their taxes and everything else that YOU YOURSELF need to do. Asking anyone to spend their time doing something for free, when that something is how THEY ARE SURVIVING is beyond asinine. Not only that, this obviously isn't a hobby to them, it is very clearly THEIR JOB. Would you want to do a job where you didn't get paid at all? Doing a shit ton of work for absolutely nothing? No? Didn't think so.

"It shouldn't be about the money!" Well unfortunately, as with almost every other job, it is. We live in a world where we desperately need to make money in order to survive. That's the painful fact of the matter. If money never had to be an issue ever again then this would be a very different story. But it's not, plain and simple as can be.

Look, these people are just like you, artists and writers who are just trying to get by in a shitty ass world, using the one thing they have that let's them have an income. Leave them be, don't try and trick them, guilt them, or cuss them out when you don't get your way. Either properly comission or leave them the hell alone, plain and simple.