#if they had the audacity to full on plagiarize it...

[florestalio]

PLAGIARIST ALERT!!!!

hi! i never thought I would have to make a post like this, but surprise surprise, I am making one.

so! my fic(s), puppy antics and puppy antics 2.0 have been plagiarized and posted as one fic — naughty puppy — by a fairly new account, @enemstuff kinda surprised that they haven't blocked me

attached below are the pictures of the account and the plagiarized version of my fics, and my original fics:–

the account that plagiarized my fics and the plagiarized version:

my original fics:

first of all, I'm not that surprised that something like this has happened. plagiarism isn't an uncommon issue, especially in the enhablr community, where ppl blatantly copy paste fics and shamelessly claim to have not. this isn't something surprising, but it definitely isn't encouraged.

what I would like to request everyone is: please do not send them any kind of hate, even through anon. if you must, just tell them that this is wrong, and not ethical in the slightest. I had sent them a text, which I'm not sure whether they have purposely ignored, or are currently too busy to open. anyways, what has happened, has happened, there is no use pondering over it. once again, thank you very much to everyone who let me know, I really appreciate you all for looking out for me <33

[lyneira]

-> "Your sweet boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, who pouts whenever you tease him, also secretly enjoys making you beg for his c*ck"

SMUT - MINORS DNI

satoru gojo x fem!reader | cw: fingering, oral, unprotected sex, teasing, begging

lyneira's (18+) mini event: Your Sweet Boyfriend!

@muli-wam 's result!

Gojo is a joker and a man full of audacity, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise when he pouted after you teased him.

He was "sulking" after you lightly jabbed him with a line.

"How could you be so mean, Y/N...? After all that we've been through... you wound me...", he'd whine with the expression of puppy who had just been kicked, and it would cause a vein to pop on your forehead. You knew he was just being dramatic like he always was.

You would scoff at his pouting. The man was a menace to everyone when it came to his jokes and small acts.

He was often a little shit, and unfortunately, that would apply to the bedroom as well.

He quite enjoyed it when the tables were turned in which you were the one pouting at him, and he would grin at your expression. He'd grin so smug at the whole situation, really.

At the current moment, you were underneath him, your cunt soaked with desire from all of his skilled touches, and from the way he used his tongue on you moments prior, his mouth still glistening with your essence.

You were more than ready to have his cock inside you. But, like the little shit he was, he wouldn't let you have it yet. Instead, he'd have two fingers inside you, slowly pumping in and out, knowing that you would rather have his thick cock fill your hole and absolutely wreck you. It was torture, and he would hum in amusement whenever he felt your walls trying to squeeze around his fingers, knowing so well that you wanted more friction.

He, himself, was feeling just as eager as you with the bead of precum currently staining his tip and his dick shot up so proudly. Yet, he wasn't going to give in until you begged.

So when he finally heard the sound of your voice calling his name, he was happily all-ears.

"S-Satoru...please...", you moaned weakly.

"Hm?" He leaned in close to your face while still having his fingers buried in your cunt. "What is it, Y/N? I couldn't quite understand you"

"Please...! I need it", you cried louder.

"Need what? You're gonna have to be more specific than that, sweetie", he'd whisper that last bit huskily, his grin growing wider and his fingers playfully swirling inside your pussy.

You could no longer take it.

"Your cock! FUCK...! I need your cock! I want you to fuck my brains out already! Satoru, please, please-ah..!"

Finally. Those were the words he loved to hear.

With that final outburst, he'd grant your wish at last, quickly removing his fingers and sticking his dick inside you. As he pushed himself further in, it deliciously stretched your walls with each inch before he finally buried himself balls-deep into you.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?", he smirked.

You'd have yelled at him for that last comment if he didn't then proceed to thrust in and out of you at a violent pace, making you moan instead. The rate at which he was fucking you had you digging your nails into his back and had you seeing stars already.

"Ahh...that's my good girl," he'd shakily breathe out. You're pussy embracing him so tightly like this felt like heaven to him. "Look how wet you are. You're sucking me in so well."

This, paired with the erotic sounds of skin slapping against skin and the gushing noises of your pussy with each thrust would be enough to make him come already, but the greatest jujutsu sorcerer would have to prove himself worthy especially after you've been so good for him and had begged him so sweetly. He'll ensure that his teasing would be worth it throughout all of the night.

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[the-great-ladyg]

So, I watched the James Somerton second apology video so you don't have to, this are my highlights, feel free to add more if I missed something important:

He monetized the video to donate to HBG's team and Wikipedia, apparently, he said also he has reached some of the people who he plagiarized but still, if he did he would have explicitly said "I'm donating to them"

Did he really said "well, I'm a white cis gay man, I don't have the same experiences as others in the community" as an excuse on plagiarizing others' works? And the "I thought I might be able to won over some people" sounds like some white savior shit

He still throws Nick under the bus, it really shows that James doesn't regret any other times he did that and it sounds like he hired Nick as a shield for criticism and not to have a more diverse work team

He apologizes to Jessie Gender and many others, but doesn't explicitly addresses why he might have offended them on first place (except for the police incident), yeah, he says he was reactionary, but he has been on many occassions. I'm not expecting a full detailed explanation, but at least he could have said "for the Nebula drama" or something like that

James says that at one point, due to covid economic consequences, he and Nick became poor and that led him to plagiarize more since they had to upload more videos, and look, I suck at organizing my time, I tend to do everything with little time before the date, and I wrote most of my thesis on the last minute with one or two days of investigating and I still didn't plagiarize, I could cite all of my sources the correct way, if my early 20s procrastinating ass could wrote a 70 page thesis on my own without plagiarizing, he could write a script with a second person without stealing but he prefered to do it anyway

Also the alegedly head injury, I'm not going to say that's a lie, but knowing how this guy uses any card on his favor, this might be something he pulled from his ass to justify himself

I don't know why but some of this Telos drama explanatiom sounds again like he didn't even know how to do all of this, and I get what is to start a project having little to no idea on how to start or continue, but he tried to do so much with so little without asking for any help when he clearly needed some help other than Nick, and also sounds like another excuse to justify plagiarizing

"Misinformation made its way into our past videos", no, my friend, it doesn't make its way when you investigate or check a site other than the first one you see, James loves to say he likes to investigate but still says things like this. "It wasn't malicious", (seriously, the audacity of this bitch), oh yeah, there's nothing malicious coming from the mysogynist biphobic and transphobic dude who misgenders trans people and erases a woman's bisexuality, specially when this lady told you she wasn't a straight woman as you said and this was a known fact for a few years

The ADHD thing feels like some ableist shit, like "don't blame me, I have ADHD uwu", James has offended many groups and communities through his youtube career and in his apology video he still finds the way to insult another group that suffers from many harmful stereotypes

As I said on a post addressing his first apology video, James can't create a space for everyone if he's transphobic, mysogynist, acephobe and racist, and he pretends he's convinced he was creating an "inclusive space"

Just as many people have said before, he didn't address anything of the things he's been accused of except plagiarism, he only says "I'm sorry to everyone who I have offended", no dude, you don't address mysogyny, racism or transphobia this way, James is a piece of shit and a coward.

And this idiot has put on public display some of his videos, specially the ones that show his racism (yeah, the Killing Stalking and Painter of the Night videos), I'm not clicking on them but I'm pretty sure he didn't cut his racist mysogynist rants, because they might not be plagiarized (if James is to be trusted) but they show the worst parts of him when he's trying to be original, and putting this shit videos on public shows he regrets nothing on being a piece of shit.

[blazinbeautywrites]

DONE

Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on  this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my  ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit. None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me unless stated otherwise. Full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.

A/N: Be gentle with me yall lol. I'm rusty and this is my first story back after basically rebranding my blog. Hope yall enjoy.

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage

Length: 1,133 words

Genre: Angst

Jaela was beyond done. This man had embarrassed her for the last time. She stared at herself in the mirror and couldn't help but be disappointed in herself for how her life turned out. How did she get here? When did she become this woman? After leaving her bathroom she walked out into her living room where 6 large boxes sat, full of her ex's things. Yahya Abdul Manteen II. The man who's responsible for the cold heart that now sat inside of Jaela's body. When she went to see him on set she heard him fucking another woman in his trailer. She was there to surprise him, only for her to be the one getting surprised. She left quietly, making sure none of the other cast and crew or his team saw her. She vowed that this was the last time she'd stand by while he cheats. She was over his constant infidelity and she hated that after each time he'd given himself to another woman, she'd take him back after his broken promises to do better. So she did what she had to do. She ghosted him. It'd been almost 2 weeks of him calling and texting non-stop. He even had his friends and his mother calling her. The only person she communicated with was his mother. She was the one who introduced them and she was disappointed in her son but had hope he and Jaela would work it out..

“So he’s convinced that you’re cheating on him and that’s why you’re not talking to him. Asked me to call and spy on you.” His mom spoke. She chuckled a bit remembering how desperate Yahya sounded.

“Well that’s rich coming from him. He fucks anything with legs and he’s worried that I’m sleeping with other people?” Jaela replied. She knows she's supposed to respect her elders but she was thrown off by his audacity.

“What are you going to do? Don’t you think he deserves to know that you no longer want to be with him?” She asks.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I know that's your son and I'm sorry for all the cussing. But you need to ask his trifling ass did I deserve to know he wanted to fuck other women before he decided to cheat! I would have rather he dumped me first but noooooo he wants to have his cake and eat it too. I’M FUCKING DONE!!!!” Jaela yelled. She hung up on her then resumed her packing. 

She managed to fill a couple more boxes and put them in the living room with the others. She popped open a bottle of Stella Rosa Black and got the largest glass she could find. She filled it a bit over half way and started chugging her wine like it was water. Before she could finish off her glass, she heard a knock at the door. When she peeked through the peephole, she was disgusted. She opened the door without a word and let Yahya walk in.

“Well hello to you too. Mean ass. And here I am thinking you're sick or some shit.” He said.

“Boy, why are you here? I know you’re dumb, but you’re not that dumb.” Jaela snarked. She hated how smug he looked and wanted to wipe that shit right off of his face.

“Awww baby don’t be like that. I entertained this bratty shit for 2 weeks. It’s time for me to come back home.” Yayha teased.

“Home? And what bills do you pay my nigga? Cuz last time I fucking checked, I pay all the bills in this bitch. You need to leave. I told your ass I was done and meant it. So get all of this shit outta my house or I’m donating it to the Good Will.” Jaela yelled. He looked at her like she lost her damn mind. Ain’t no way this bitch just talked to him like that, he thought. He walked up on her and yoked her up, applying pressure to her upper arm.

“See, I know you don’t think I was just gonna let your ass walk away like that. Did you really think you were gonna dump me in a text and I wouldn’t pop up on your ass? What? You mad cuz I fuck other women from time to time? So the fuck what. You knew what you were getting into when you got with me. I love you and I come home to YOU! Yet you trying to leave ME?! Bitch I should have left YOU, especially after you killed our baby. But no, I stayed with you. Just like you stayed with me after all those other times.You wanna break up, fine. But just remember, no one will love you like I do.” Yahya seethed. Jaela promised she was done shedding tears over this man but at the mention of the son they lost, her eyes watered. She remembered that day. The ride to the hospital, hearing the news. She even remembered him blaming her for the loss and she got angry.

“FUCK YOU! I lost our child because of YOU! You stressed me out with your bullshit and our son paid the fucking price. And I’m glad no one will love me the way you did because that shit isn’t love! I fucking HATE you and I wish I never met you. You’ve fucked me up so bad in the head. For 3 years I let you ruin me and break me down. But no more. NO FUCKING MORE!” Jaela fumed. She’d had it with him. The fucking audacity of this piece of shit. He had never seen her this angry and he didn’t know what to do.

“Baby I-”

“Get the fuck out!” She sighed after calming herself down. She was exasperated and beyond exhausted. All she wanted to do was get her living room cleared out and try to enjoy the rest of her night.

“You not giving my shit away, Jaela.” He warned. She looked at him and laughed. He was taken aback but let it go.

“All of that and you’re worried about all this materialistic ass shit? Oh baby don’t worry, I’ll make sure your precious items make it back to you safely. Just leave.” She said, as she watched him walk out the door, she collapsed on the nearest sofa and let out a long shaky breath. In a way she felt relieved. On the other hand she felt heartbroken at the deterioration of her relationship. Yahya was the man she called her forever and he ruined that. She also held herself accountable for all the bare minimum things she accepted out of her fear of loneliness. 

But tomorrow is a new day and it’s time for her to begin her healing.

[cultofdionysusnet]

It has come to our attention that one of our members, kitten4sannie, has had one of their works plagiarized.

Alyssa has reached out directly to the plagiarist only to be full on ignored. The staff at Cult of Dionysus has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to plagiarism.

User @/taeminltm has plagiarized not only one of our members but also a few other writers both on Tumblr and on ao3 and when questioned, had the audacity to say that "most" of the stuff on their blog is their own.

This is clearly copied and pasted.

As of May 23, the user has deleted their account and thus all posts are now gone but we still ask that you spread the word and reblog this post.

We also ask our affiliates at @k-vanity and @svthub to also help spread the word by reblogging this post to let other people know.

- Cult of Dionysus Network Admin Staff; Topaz, Booki, & Rie.

[maccahotney]

Hi, I was away a for a few months. Could you tell me what happened with the blue fox account?

Hello, anon! Welcome back 😺

About Fox: they deactivated the account (duly exposed).

That scammer... They came up with a big speech full of questions with hidden answers. They had the audacity to plagiarize fanfics and steal money from the people who funded them on Patreon (promising to post more sensitive information there). And guys: beware of those people who hide knowledge and are never explicit in their answers.

[book-place]

Raising Her

Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of killing, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Owen Grady x daughter reader

*not my gif*

Summary: There is a child in the raptors cage, but Owen isn’t as concerned as he should be

A/N: This is short, but I liked writing it

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

It was strange to hear giggles in a place like that. A place of dangerous creatures that could kill a person within a second.

The laughter was so full of happiness that anyone unfamiliar with it would feel as if they were hallucinating.

But there it was, a child’s gleeful laughter coming from inside the raptors cage.

Claire whipped her head to face the glass in concern, but that look soon turned into horror when she saw you, a five year old girl, waddling around the raptors cage, the dinosaurs nowhere in sight. But she could only assume that they were waiting to jump out of the shadows at any moment, having a nice snack of child flesh.

“Owen!” The redhead whispered out in terror.

“What?” He then turned around and took in her panicked expression and immediately began to think the worst, “What? What happened?” His words came rushed out.

Claire was yet to take her eyes off your small form as she reached up to point a shaky finger at you, “Ch-child.” She managed to mutter out, then she came to her senses, “There’s a child in there, Owen!” She practically screamed, “Get her out of there! They’re going to kill her!”

The man looked down in confusion, but visibly relaxed when he saw who she was pointing to, “Oh, that’s just Y/n. She's okay.”

Claire finally turned away from the glass and now looked at him in horror, “What are you talking about? That kid is going to die!” Then she started wildly looking around for any of the other workers, “Help! Somebody help!”

She had completely forgotten that it was a holiday and the only workers were a couple of guards that were too far away to hear her screams.

“Claire, Claire.” The woman couldn’t help but feel disgusted at the amused tone in his voice. There was a child in danger and he had the audacity to be smirking.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She snapped, not having the willpower to take her eyes away from your helpless form for even a second to glare at the man like she so badly wanted to.

“She’s my daughter.” He explained slowly, a large hand coming to rest on her shoulder as he talked, “And they would never hurt her.”

That finally got the redheads attention to snap away from you, “What?” She breathed out.

She didn’t know he had a daughter.

“Her mother left her with me a couple years ago.” He continued, “And when I first brought her around to see the dinosaurs… they just seemed to click.”

Claire was officially stunned into silence.

“The dinosaurs feel like they’ve raised her more than I have.” There was no spite or anger in his tone, just fondness as he looked down at you in the cage in complete adoration.

“And how do you feel about that?” She finally managed to get words to leave her tongue.

His green eyes turned back to her, seriousness suddenly taking over his entire demeanor, “I feel like they’re right.”

As she turned back to look out the window, she still couldn’t help her breath catching in her throat slightly as she watched one of the raptors exit from nearby bushes. Blue.

She walked up to you slowly, and you turned to her with a large smile, not hesitating to reach your hand out in front of you and waiting for the dinosaur to come and nuzzle her head against it.

Which she did without hesitation.

“They love her just as much as I do.” A small smile has made its way onto Owens face as he looked at the two of you. The girls he had raised, “And she is safer with them then she would ever be anywhere else.”

[pastafossa]

Warning About A Plagiarizing Fic Author

*edit: FIC HAS BEEN TAKEN DOWN OFF AO3! Her blog posts here on tumblr however remain up so I ask that this keep circulating. *Edit again: all accounts appear to have been taken down, and all blogs look down save for her @k-9bails account which she had the audacity to use to try to follow me again. I’ve got a reblog with all the relevant updates but I’m adding it here, too. Original post: Right. Time for the callout post, since the thief has refused to answer my messages or take down the fic. Before we start: do not send her hate mail. At most, I’m looking for firm requests that she take down her fic and, as you’ll see, all the blog posts where she’s stolen content from me. Mostly I’m just trying to apply firm pressure so she takes all the stolen work down, and so that people are aware of what she’s doing so she can’t do this to anyone else. So, let’s start. If you’re in the Daredevil fandom on tumblr and AO3 at all, you might have heard of my fic The Red Thread about a psychic reader/OC referred to as Jane Hind/The Hound, who can see, via third eye, psychic threads of connection between people, animals, and beloved objects. It’s this fic that’s been blatantly plagiarized by @k9bails (who’s blocked me at present, so here’s the link to her main blog which I managed to access before I was blocked). Her fic on AO3 is called Legend, under the username K9bails. She’s also got a side blog called @k-9bails​ which appears less active, and a wattpad profile here, so please, if you write, make sure your work hasn’t been stolen. She’s only got the first chapter as of today, but it’s already full of stolen material, and her blog is absolutely bursting at the seams with things she’s stolen from me. Fortunately, before she blocked me, I was able to get screenshots, both of the fic just in case she edited it later, and her blog (which I had to screenshot on PC, so apologies for messiness).  I’ve made a report to AO3 (please DO NOT report it on AO3, they prefer only one person do the reporting so that the volunteer team isn’t overwhelmed) and I am awaiting word back. But she’s also got my stuff all over her tumblr, and since she’s ignored my messages, it’s time to post it, since she’s active in the fandom and I don’t want her taking anyone else’s work.

Let’s start with the main bit from her fic. Left side is my first chapter, right side is her fic. If you’ve read TRT, you know that the concept of psychic threads seen through the third eye is incredibly important. They connect friends and acquaintances, family, pets, and even beloved childhood objects, with each type of connection denoted by a different color. She’s rotated some colors around, and taken some of the colors I introduce later like white, black, and purple, but this is very much my concept. Note she’s stolen a line almost directly word for word here: ‘Silver threads always struck Scout as the saddest,’ to compare to my, ‘That last always struck you as the saddest.’

In this case, she’s also taken the kaleidoscope effect line from a few chapters later:

I thought this was blatant, but it only got worse: she lifts two of my other original characters, and doesn’t even bother to change their fucking names. In this case, in her very first chapter, she’s lifted both Ciro, my OC’s Italian father figure (I’ve added a screenshot on the upper right from Ch17 of the first time his name is used), and Eli, an OC adopted by Ciro (also added to screenshot, bottom right). Eli doesn’t even appear until ch 36 so this stretches a long ways.

The rest of this I’m going to put behind a see more tag, cause we got a lot to go.

But we’re not done, believe it or not, considering there’s only a single chapter of hers so far - a single chapter containing a very similar opening line, and a bizarre lift of my frequent End Note message that leads to my tumblr??? That one puzzled me because there’s no real reason to steal that.

Yet another: she’s made use of the Hound theme, and made a barebones attempt to change the summary line enough to slide under the radar. If you’ve read TRT then you know, but if not: my OC’s code name is Hound, she’s frequently referred to as Hound or the Hound of Los Angeles, there are Hound metaphors galore, and Matt has taken to calling her his Hellhound, and those references are honestly so common it’d take hours to list them all. 

I also happened to notice, after all this, that she’d linked to her tumblr, much like I did. So I wandered over. And it only got worse from there. Her own ‘answers’ to asks mimic mine, including lifting answers from posts I made here on tumblr. I’m not going to keep having side by sides because the post will get crazy long but if anyone wants receipts on any of these, I’ll go find it on a case by case basis.

Here’s where she mentions her character using threads to track people down for Bad Figures who want to kill them, along with tracking down threads for information, aka a major plotline of my fic and literally my character’s stated profession. Screenshot:

Here’s where she describes more about how ‘her’ threads and abilities work (starred paragraph is an almost exact summary of how my character’s abilities work, including how she can send them images and feelings, down to how a red thread is needed to control a person, definitely her taking my major plotline involving body jumping via red threads). She also, SURPRISE! Steals my psychic animals that inhabit the threads, that I’ve hinted relate to the subconscious, and that usually have some traits from the character. Oh, and the part about how doing all that makes her sick, yet again lifted from my fic, where my character gets incredibly sick the more she pushes herself doing all this.

Here’s another section in which she lifted Ciro - my Ciro that adopted Jane Hind is a native Italian, founded the particular family-like group he’s a part of, and also basically adopted Eli - who was raised in the US.

This section is where she’s roughly stolen Jane Hind’s mental trauma and the cause: her childhood arc. I’ve discussed at length here on tumblr (going to work on finding those posts in my tumblr history and update here when I can) and in the fic itself all the things she’s missed, using exactly this sort of phrasing. In fact, our major arc we’re currently going through in the fic (chapters 130 or so)... hm, references frequently missed out Christmases, birthdays, and little things we take for granted. This is one reason I’m sure she’s reading the fic as it’s getting posted. On top of that, she decided she’d also lift how Jane had never seen a beach and fell in love with it the first time she did. It’s a small detail but it’s just yet another thing she’s acting like is hers, just like the details about how this is all new and her Nelson and Murdock friends have taken her in. 

Perhaps most bizarrely, her blog has even been reblogging posts friends have tagged me in that I’ve responded to. In this one, though, she gets a little too obvious - not only is she reblogging a post, maybe a few days after another friend tagged me in it and I reblogged it, but she also tried to tag her fic ‘the psychic thread’ as opposed to ‘the red thread’, which is my own series tag.

I have no idea why she’s done this. I have no idea why she was so blatant, why she thought she could get away with it. She also appears to have a few sock puppet accounts - for example, she makes a claim lifted straight from a half-joking post I made about my OC’s potential pokemon and then makes her own post using the same pokemon for her OC, and credits it to another account that seems to just exist to make her look more realistic. It was one of the more bizarre things stolen, since my post about it didn’t get much attention, but it proves she’s actively following me on tumblr quite closely, proven by a friend who snagged a few screenshots of her likes tab where she’d liked my posts.

She’s blocked me now, so I can’t see her main blog. I can’t ask her to take it down anymore, outside of the comment I’ve left on her fic and the report I made to AO3. But she knows, 100%, that she’s stolen my work, and just as frustrating, has gone on at length on her blog about how all your characters should be original, and truly yours, and how you should never imitate other authors. It’s a ballsy move considering how small the Daredevil fic circle is here on tumblr and AO3.

And look. I don’t want her to drown in hate mail. I really don’t. All I want is for her to take down the fic, and remove the posts in which she blatantly stole content from me. I’ve worked on TRT for years, I’ve poured hours and hours and almost a million words into this story, and the fact that this person is still reading it as they’re plagiarizing it is both incredibly insulting and incredibly hurtful. If you’re an author in the Daredevil fandom, I highly recommend blocking her. She’s mentioned a few very popular authors in the fandom in the blog posts, so I know she’s reading your work, too, and I don’t want yours stolen anymore than I do. If you see someone commenting about her fic, tell them its stolen. Warn your DD author friends. And if you’re going to say something to her, let it be a request to take down her fic and delete the blog posts that have plagiarized my content. That’s my end goal - not to burn her life down but to just pressure her to stop stealing something very, very dear to me, and hopefully learn not to do this in the future.

That’s all I want. *Edited 12/20: as of today, her fic on AO3 has been taken down! The scores of comments, or AO3′s plagiarism team, has done the job so this is a huge win, and I’m grateful to everyone that helped! Her tumblr posts on her k9bails account, however, are still up, and she has yet to respond, so let the pressure continue. I’m also hunting for her other accounts since it’s become clear the k9bails account and the @k-9bails​ account are both not her main blog. If anyone has any leads or knows who this person is, please send me a message! I want to find their main blog in case it’s following me so I can block it, and potentially apply pressure there to get her to take my work down on her k9bails account.

[bullprince]

i dont normally add on to posts but i feel so strongly abt this that im not hiding in the tags for this one. my special interest is cooking and op is right. this idiot is really trying to colonisersplain cultural appropriation. food is absolutely political, food and art are like the foundation of culture because theyre some of the only things displaced people can bring with them, and cooking and art are the most basic human activities. if you look into the past, even to before the evolution of homo sapiens, all humans, all hominids wanted to create things. so when you steal someone's creations and call them your own, you are being inhuman.

there's been a huge argument against plagiarism and ai recently, and its deserved, but if youre kicking off over that you need to recognise it pales in comparison to everything a group of people has created being stolen and labeled as the "culture" of the group committing a genocide against them. gaza is starving. israel is blocking supplies from reaching gaza. they have "protestors" blocking trucks from reaching palestinians, and ive seen the photos, those "protestors" are laughing and smiling about it, having never starved in their lives, while gazans are being forced to eat rotting food and animal feed, and drink poisoned water.

i am white british. and that means i dont really have a culture. what culture the english had was lost long ago. im not going to turn this into a rant about what the english did to the rest of the british isles because this isnt the post to do it. but my lack of a culture means i personally am much more appreciative of the cultures around me. i love living in a university city because there are so many restaurants and grocery shops. as someone whos special interest is cooking, i think that food and the history behind it is one of the best ways to learn about other peoples cultures. ive been trying my best to learn how to make palestinian food, i follow palestinian chefs online, and ive been to local palestinian restaurants. its good. its worth learning to make. these are recipes that predate "israel" and they will exist long after it. this is food that is a symbol of resistance. many of the symbols of palestinian resistance link back to their food: the olive trees, the river and sea where they fished and should still be allowed to fish.

so to say with full confidence that "real "cultural appropriation" is a concept invented to prevent people from wearing or eating things outside of their culture by claiming it falsely "strips identity" from these things." and "its literally just a bullshit excuse invented to justify targeted harassment campaigns against people online" is not only fucking disgusting but proves you are uneducated and have no concern for other peoples culture, a huge part of their identities and souls. op, a palestinian, has quite literally described cultural appropriation, the act of "israel" labeling palestinian food as "israeli", something they have EVERY RIGHT to be enraged by, and yet tumblr user spaps-society has the audacity to tell them nah ur wrong actually bc of MY interpretation of what cultural appropriation is. "israel" wants to take everything palestine has to make it seem like they have always been there. they have not. and it is not their culture. if in the year 2024, witnessing some of the worst atrocities of this century, you cannot fathom the idea of appreciating others cultures and wanting to uplift them and their food, art, fashion, architecture, literature, everything they create, and instead want to go online to pick fights with people who are so obviously in the right over them wanting to defend their culture during an ethnic cleansing, a genocide, you are just a cunt. this concludes my infodump.

I do want to say re:food appropriation, for Palestinians it is a very very very sensitive issue. I don't know a single Palestinian who doesn't react vehemently to calling food "Israeli." One, because you have to recognize that this is within a larger pattern of completely erasing Palestinian identity, and two, because food is an essential core part of culture, where historical, familial instruction should be acknowledged.

I find it incredibly.... insulting to say "well food can be exchanged between cultures and people, so what's the big idea?" and neglect the fact that even within the Levant, there is a diverse array of cooking styles. To call certain dishes "Israeli" especially within the context of how the state of Israel was established, plays into the erasure of Palestinians.

It's often necessary to attribute the food we eat to specific cultures. For example, I, a Palestinian, would never claim ownership over Macarona Bil-Bashamil, or Yalenji, because they're "Arab." That's just not how food culture works. Different cultures, different climates, different environments all contribute to the food we eat and the clothes we wear. Food in itself is political because of how heavily it is tied to a location in which things are grown and raised.

Food is what builds community. Women, young and old, pass this knowledge throughout generations. And ESPECIALLY between peasant families that grow and raise the very flora and fauna we rely on in our dishes. This is a professional sort of knowledge that we celebrate and consider incredibly important. To strip our very food of our identity is not only insulting, but negates the centuries worth of food culture we've established in favor of homogenization. So yes, it IS possible to appropriate food, especially when you do not acknowledge the centuries worth of knowledge shared.

[atl4ntxc]

—character(s), Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmo, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon.

—genre, angst.

—cw/tw, name-calling, verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of violence, harsh language.

—notes, i'm not sorry, have this shit. full angst ahead, do not blame me if you cry. The ending is so bad im about to cry.

please do not plagiarize, copy, translate or repost on any platform/website without my consent. the headers used are mine and should not be used by anyone.

how it feels to be replaced 002<

Replaced. That's one way to describe how you feel.

Ever since the new exchange student arrived, you have been neglected and was often left out by the brothers, which made you deem yourself as unneeded and useless. It was slowly killing your confidence and self-worth, which took a toll on your mental health.

Being replaced was not a fun experience, it killed you slowly inside.

It was almost torturing, if it wasn't for Solomon and the others, it would make you feel like you were just a mere human walking in a world full of sinful demons (which you technically are doing).

The exchange student showed numerous signs of superiority complex, which made you feel concerned as time goes on.

She brags smugly about her relationship with the brothers, which made you irritated. To say that you were envious of her was an understatement, as you wish you were as pretty, tall as her.

They made you insecure pretty quickly, and you were not happy with that.

Arguments started between you and the brothers ever since she arrived, and it felt like this was all planned by Ella, or who'd you prefer to call, 'damned witch'.

You were naturally a nice and cheerful person but life wasn't exactly nice.

"Mc, you should eat less."

"Mc, you should eat more."

Make up your mind, please.

I don't like this.

Don't say that.

I thought that we would always be with each other.

I was naive to think that would happen.

They looked genuinely more happy with Ella, and when you realized that, it made you more upset. As days and weeks pass by, you knew that you were once again replaced.

Verbal abuse started once they realized that Ella was 'better than you", in both terms of physical and emotional. The walls that they once crumbled down was now being rebuilt, much thicker and higher with fences surrounding them.

The cheerful and kind mc was now replaced with an unexpressive and cold one, and nobody even bothered to acknowledge it.

Well, Diavolo and Solomon did.

"Mc, we need to talk."

Spoke the sorcerer, putting a hand on your left shoulder, giving a serious look. "I don't have time for that, Solomon. I need to stud-"

He quickly interrupts, and pleaded, "Study, I know. But, it'll only take 5 minutes, it won't be for long." Your eyes moved to the side and back to him, contemplating either to agree or not, but nevertheless, you agreed.

You both sat on a bench in front of a tree, and was engulfed in awkward silence until Solomon spoke up, "Mc, how is everything with the demon brothers? You guys look more distant than usual."

Those words made you stiffened up as you lowered your head and moved your gaze to your lap. "We're... doing fine. Don't worry about it, Solo." Solomon was rather suspicious of your answer and decided to keep that in mind instead of brushing it off like any of the demon brothers.

"Mc, another C for your magical potions class! Why can't you be just like Ella and study more for once?!"

Ella this, Ella that. Why is Ella always the thing on your mind?

I'm suffering by myself.

Yet, you still think about her.

Am I just another garbage that you can easily dispose of?

The brothers snickered in the background, even Mammon. Beel was in the kitchen binge-eating, meaning that he was not here. Mammon has always been the worse at studying and he had the fucking audacity to laugh.

How hypocritical, Mammon.

Laughing at a matter that you, yourself, have problems with.

You have learned to keep your mouth closed, trying to avoid any sort of thing that can lead or relate to physical abuse. They can empower you easily, which made you cower in fear as death struck your mind again.

"Look at me when I speak to you!" You did NOT want to come off as submissive and someone that obeys easily, it angers you to the point where your own blood would boil.

He raised his hand and you raised your own head.

You gave him one of the most terrifying and sharpest glares that he had ever seen, and it made him shiver. Because how could a mere human simply terrify a demon, most specifically the sin of pride, the firstborn?

"I'm looking. What else do you want? Because I..I-I will not tolerate rude..-ness, I am end...ding this conversation." And with that, you snatched your exams paper and stomped to your room, wobbling.

God, you were absolutely furious.

You wanted to rip your own hair out in anger, but then your body tensed as your shortness of breath came and you were experiencing chest pain. You realized that your symptoms were getting worse, slow and slurred speech slowly creeping in.

And another one, trouble walking.

Another, tiredness.

You expect yourself to be bounded onto a wheelchair in a few weeks by now, and you were about to cry.

"Oh, poor Mc! Being insulted again... but, oh well! You're really pathetic, Mc. Once you realize that these brothers belong to me, you'll be nothing but a crumpled paper in the garbage bin."

A high pitched voice rang, mocking your current state as you slowly widen your eyes. Ella. That bitch. That damned witch. Oh how much I wish I could punch you right now.

"Go away, Ella. I do not need your presence. Leave."

"Oh, how poetic, Mc~! Mind writing me a poem would you?"

You gritted your teeth and took a deep breath and recited the short yet insulting poem,

"Roses are red, Violets are blue, Sugar is sweet, and so are you."

"Awe, i kno-" but before she could complete her sentence, you cut her off.

"The roses are wilting, The violets are dead, The sugar bowl is empty. And so is your head."

Ella gasps and bangs on the door, furious. "How dare you!? You have no right to say that, you disgusting lowlife!" She screams, obvious irritation coming out of her.

"shhh... no one cares."

And with that, she storms off, leaving you laughing, successfully humiliating the woman.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

[geminixevans-stan]

Bare Pages - 4

Pairing: Professor!Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

Words: 2.1k+

Summary: They say closed mouths don’t get fed. But opened mouths suffer consequences.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of therapy, explicit violence, mentions of past murders

A/N: I missed this series so much! It was time to let yall in on the aftermath. . Like, comment, & reblog! ♥

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

I do not consent to my work being copied, plagiarized, or translated in any way >:P

Just as Ransom promised, your parents were by your side quicker than expected. The somber looks on their faces made your insides churn because the last thing you wanted was pity. You knew that they didn’t pity you per se, but they were always careful with you.

They spent the entire night with you, urging you to take a few days off from classes. This was one suggestion that you decided to follow, knowing that the campus would be in a frenzy for a good week.

You decided to go back home, where you felt semi-safe to just unwind, be away from the chaos that you never even caused. The anger still coursed through your veins and it was the audacity of the media that did it.

For two whole days, the news station ran the story of your attempted escape and the reviews were highly mixed, to say the least. Some were on the side of the media, stating that it was time for you to let go of the past.

Others called Monica a deplorable scumbag for even running after you that way. But one thing that was for certain, none of it took away the constant images that filled your mind, day in and day out.

Your parents suggested therapy time and time again. And every time you would refuse because why would you pay money for someone to tell you something that you already knew?

But as the days went on, therapy didn’t sound so bad. You were young and lived through more than someone your age shouldn’t have to endure. You were tired of this constant panging in your chest. The fire that filled your nerves every morning started to get old.

Waking up in cold sweats every other morning was beginning to annoy you and as your past started to get closer and closer, the images and sounds from that night were becoming more clearer.

This morning was no different but at least you were home and in your own bed. You had to wake up earlier since Andy would be visiting to go over all the details before sending out subpoenas.

You had to give it to him, he was working day and night to make sure you got the justice that you deserve with this particular case.

The house smelled of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee beans. You knew your mom was already in homemaker mode since Andy was arriving soon. You walked into the kitchen, slightly shuffling your feet as you watch your mom pour the last drop of batter into the pan.

She turned around, watching you take a seat as she beamed at you, “Morning baby, ya hungry?” she asks with a voice full of hope. It wasn’t a secret that you weren’t eating much. Your stomach grumbled at the spread on the table and you decided to give in this time.

You nod, “You know my weakness. I can’t resist bacon and you know that,” you say in an amused tone. Your mom chuckles in accomplishment. Sneaky woman she is.

“You got the from your old man,” boomed your dad’s deep voice as he made his way into the kitchen. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before giving your mom the same before taking a seat next to you.

Your mom placed the last cooked pancake on the platter and setting it down on the table when a knock on the door was heard.

Silence fell throughout the kitchen as your dad gave you a concerned look, “You okay?” you nod because you were ready to get this over with. He squeezed your shoulder lightly, “Alright let me got get the door.”

Your mom placed three mugs on the counter not even giving you because coffee was your enemy. You both sat down at the table as you heard a new voice come into hearing distance. There stood Andy in a tailored suit to kill for and a briefcase that you knew meant business.

“Good morning Washington family, this shouldn’t take long. Just some sign-offs and everything should be handed out by the end of the day,” he assured, sitting opposite of you.

Your mom raised a mug to Andy, “Coffee?”

Andy smiled, wanting to be the perfect house guest, “Yes please, Mrs. Washington. The food looks fantastic. I usually don’t have time for a full spread like this.”

Your dad begins to chime in, “Oh me either, this is all because and I’ll quote my wife, “That Barber sure is handsome,” he says mockingly in her voice.

You stifle a giggle while your mom looks absolutely mortified, “That’s not what I said!” your dad gives her a look, “Well I didn’t lie,” she says pointedly while setting the coffee mug in front of Andy.

His cheeks turn a tinge of pink before clearing his throat, “Right, well,” he takes a sip of coffee, “Let’s get down to business,” he pops open his briefcase, pulling out a semi-thick manila folder, “So the charges that I can pin on Monica and the news station is assault, stalking, invasion of privacy, tampering of evidence, and bribery..”

You look up, “Tampering of evidence? What was touched,” you ask urgently. There had to be a way that she knew where you were.

Andy flips a page, pushing the copy to you, “It seems that Ms. Shepherd wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was. Didn’t take too much to find the person that sold your whereabouts to her.”

You read over the report, names and all. Apparently, she paid off a dirty cop to dig into your files. A lump formed in your throat as you clutched the paper in your hand.

The bitch went to great heights to find you and you were going to make her wish she never did.

“So what do I need to do?” you ask, pushing the paper back to Andy.

“Just that you’re fine with those charges and your signature. I will say, this will be a high-profile case. I’ve made provisions on your behalf and the university to not have any media within 1000 ft of the campus.”

Great… more news on your past. But it was time to end this once and for all. You took a deep breath, shutting and opening your eyes slowly, “I’ll sign..”

Andy gives you a curt nod, splaying the needed papers in front of you and giving you a pen. You sign each line carefully with purpose, not even waiting for the ink to dry before giving the papers back to Andy.

He gathers them up, placing them back in the folder, “Before I go, as your lawyer and as a father myself. Have you thought of therapy?”

Your parents look at each other and then back at you.

Your mom speaks up, “Oh no she-“

“It’s ok mom. Before this? No. But now, I’m open. I can’t keep living like this,” the tears prickle the corners of your eyes, “I’m so tired… I want to be normal or…” you let out a shaky breath, “I need to get their murders out of my head.”

Your dad is the first to envelop you in his arms as you finally let them see you break.

Andy almost reaches over, catching himself, “Sam Wilson is the best, I’ll reach out with his information by the end of the day. Have a better rest of the day you all.” Your mom gets up to follow Andy out of the door.

A week had passed and you were back on campus. News had already been swarming around of the upcoming case against Monica and you could care less how she felt about it.

It was time for you to get back to classes and some form of normalcy and much as your mom didn’t want to let you go that morning, you had to go.

The spring warmth was something else, but it beat the chilling winter. You sat in Literature doing your best to catch on to everything that you missed. Ransom would send you assignments and notes but not urging you to finish them until you got back.

But like the rebel you were, you finished each assignment the same day they were given. Something caught Ransom by surprise. No one saw what he saw while you laid in that hospital bed. No one heard you mumble “make it stop” in your sleep but him.

He watched you like a hawk until your parents arrived and the pull to stay was strong. Ransom wanted to take away all your pain and it pissed him off that he felt this strongly for a student. Was it pity? Guilt? That’s what it had to be. There was no other way around it.

Ransom wasn’t the least surprised to see you in class the following week. He knew trying to announce your arrival would just cause more attention than what you already had on you.

He lectured class, as usual, waiting for the bell to ring so that he could at least check on you. His prayers were answered the minute the dismissal bell blared, watching the sea of students pack up including you.

As you put your laptop into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and it was none other than the dull thorn in your ass… Samantha.

You let out an unbothered huff of air, “Hi Samantha, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I just wanted to tell you to watch yourself. That stunt you pulled with my aunt was a bitch move.”

You roll your eyes at her, “And your aunt is who?”

Samantha crosses her arms, “Don’t act like you didn’t know Monica is my aunt.”

Your eyebrows lifted because this was news to you, “I definitely didn’t. But she had it coming. Have a good day,” turning around and walking to the stairs.

Samantha began to walk closer behind you opening up her mouth once more, “It's not her fault you can’t get over a little murder. You survived, didn’t you? Get the fuck ov-”

She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before your fist connected to her teeth hearing an audible snap. The leftover crowd pulled out their phones, recording the aftermath.

Ransom ran up the stairs shouting, “Hey! Move away Tyson,” he says to you pushing you behind him, “And you,” pointing to Samantha, “Get up!”

Samantha groaned, getting pulled up by her friends, “She needs to be arrested!”

“That won’t happen now, will it? Had you shut the fuck up, you would still have your front tooth intact. Everyone saw it. Who do you think side they will be on?”

The students murmur amongst themselves. Ransom turns around, “Don’t you heathens have other classes? Make your way to them. Now.”

The room emptied quickly as you stood there, fists still clenched and tears streaming down your cheeks, “Can I go now?”

Ransom looks over at you, “Yeah… Yeah. Just don’t punch anybody else okay?”

You roll your eyes, “Whatever..”

“Hey… I wasn’t asking. Matter fact. Samantha, you go and deal with that mouth. Tyson, you stay.”

Samantha scurries out not giving you one glance as she runs out the door.

You look over at Ransom in shock, “Why the fuck does she get to go?!”

“Sit”

You cross your arms over each other, “No”

Ransom turns fully around to your, easily towering over your frame, “Sit. Down,” his voice laced with authority.

You don’t know what it was. Maybe you did need to sit down. But you glared up at him as you slowly sit in the nearest desk.

Ransom let out a breath of frustration, raking his fingers through his hair, “What happened to therapy?”

“How did you…?”

“You know how. Answer the question”

You lean back in the chair, “First session is tomorrow. Therapy or not, I still would have done the same thing.”

Ransom couldn’t blame you. Even he wished someone would punch that annoying girl in the mouth. But he didn’t want it to be you, “You realize this could be worse now right?”

You roll your eyes up to his crystal blues, “What’s worse than hearing your family being murdered professor? This is light… I don’t care what I have to go through to get this to stop!”

“Yeah? Fighting isn’t what you need to do. You wanna blow some steam off? Meet me at the library tonight. Trust me, I want you to get from under this dark cloud that you didn’t ask for just like anybody else.”

You wanted to say no but what exactly were you doing besides wallowing?

You shift in your seat, blowing out a frustrated breath, “What time?”

“7PM… Don’t waste my time.”

[androgynousblackbox]

I'm so confused bc from what I'm seeing it's that JG and JS had a disagreement about his view on Nebula then fans blew up?? Idek how Kat Lo is supposed to be directly involved, I'm so confused and SA is a damn big accusation. What's happening??

Okay, okay, so for what I am understanding this is what happened: James Somerton went full entitled whinny baby on twitter to complain about how Nebula Senpai didn't noticed him, despite how desperate he is to be noticed, after hearing a podcat where Nebula says they reject creators that try too hard to be noticed. He whinned about how Nebula didn't reject him out right, even thought it's pretty obvious that is what they did, because he thinks he is owed that much. Then he pull out from his ass that this must mean that Nebula actually dislikes queer content creators who create exclusively queer content, even though a ton of the biggest creators on the platform are queer (some of them assholes too, but queer assholes). This naturally ruffled some feathers and people criticized him for it, something that the widdle baby Somerton can't handle at fucking all. At some point Jessie Gender came saying "hey, you are literally erasing my work that is heavily queer too, what the fuck", on far more gentler words than I would have mustered for this fuck, and, from what I can gather, Jessie went on to say that she had a good experience on Nebula. In response to this James Somerton made the claims that fans of Jessie (her fans specifically, because he did it with a screenshot of Jessie's tweet) were harassing him and threatening so hard that he totally had the police involved now. This piece of shit even had the fucking gall to say "can someone tell her what she is doing?", implying that Jessie Gender was the responsible for all of it and she didn't realize how much she was hurting widdle tiny baby Somerton. Keep in mind, again, that literally all Jessie did was tell this fuck to not erase her queer content just because his stink of desperation wasn't attractive for Nebula. Again, with words far kinder that I would have. Also! No fucking screenshots of this supposed massive harassment of him that it was so fucking severe that he had to call police for it, not that I could find. And the police CONVENIENTLY told him to not say a word about it, for some reason, so he wasn't allowed to share anything even if he wanted to! Police says so, you just gotta trust him this definitely happened, man! At some point during all of this he commented to someone that a woman (who I imagine we are meant to assume was another harasser just making up lies to get under his skin) was threatening to accuse him of SA. So now, if someone DOES come out with SA allegations against James Somerton they can be dismissed entirely because clearly, they are just some unhinged Jessie Gender fan who can't accept that Somerton has the bravery of dennouncing the gatekeeping of Nebula (who had the audacity of rejecting Somerton, who for some reason thinks is entirely entitled to the platform) or someone who purely does it for spite! Isn't that convenient? In any case, the take away of all of this is that nobody suffers worse than James Somerton and anyone who criticized him for being an entitled whinny baby should feel bad and sorry. Oh, during this or a bit after, not entirely sure about the timeline, the producer of Hbomberguy, Kat Lo, talked about all of this, the SA allegations (that Somerton brought on his own, a fucking red flag) and the plagiarism (that can be easily proven with a simple google search). Fans of baby Somerton responded as the mature well adjusted adults that they are and harassed her, defended Somerton and tried to dismiss everything out right while calling her straight and try to paint talking about factual things that happened as homophobia.

James Somerton deleted his twitter in the end. And that is all.

Good fucking riddance.

[mothandpidgeon]

Extra Credit (Professor!Dave York AU)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Dave York x F Reader

Words: 2865

Rating: VERY E 18+!

Warnings: student/teacher quid pro quo (safe to say this falls under DUB CON so please be careful!!!), spanking, humiliation/degradation, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, pussy slapping, biting/marking, p in v sex, Dave York

Summary: With graduation on the horizon, you just have to pass Professor Dave York’s class. But a bad choice on the final assignment leaves your grades in jeopardy. But he’s willing to give you extra credit if you can follow instructions.

a/n: First off, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU MIND THE WARNINGS. I did not see myself sharing this kind of stuff but I guess I'm freaky like that.

Second, I’m sorry this has the plot of a bad p*rno but sometimes it be like that. Thanks @pascalslittlebrat, @starlightmornings and @mouthymandalorian for encouraging this. It is filth. And thank you P for the gorgeous moodboard!!!!

Also, here is my assignment for the class. What subject do you think Professor York teaches? I was thinking Political Science. Would love to hear your ideas.

It was hot in the lecture hall, one of those early spring days when the weather decided winter was officially over. You had only a few more weeks until graduation and you were white knuckling to the end.

It had been a tough semester. You had your classes to deal with and your motivation was dipping. It wasn’t entirely your fault. You’d had to take on a full time job on top of your studies. Your shitty little car always seemed to be in the shop and your roommate had turned into a psychopath so you slept with one eye open.

Professor York’s class was the hardest you’d ever taken. You liked his style, his dry sense of humor as he lectured. But he was difficult to please. Most professors let their TAs do their the grading but not him. No matter how hard you worked on your papers, you couldn’t wrestle anything higher than a B- from Professor York.

The TA was handing back your papers, the last assignment for the semester, and he placed yours face down in front of you. There was no grade on it just red pen that spelled out see me after class in tight, neat handwriting. Fuck.

You looked up to see Professor York glowering at you from his spot at the front of the hall. You approached him as the other students filed out. You wished you could share their relief that this class was finally done but you had a knot in your stomach.

“Have a seat,” he said, taking the paper from you and tapping it in his palm.

There was a chair next to the professor’s desk and you sat down putting your bag beside you.

“Thanks, Tyler,” he said, dismissing the TA.

When the lecture hall was empty, Professor York sat behind the desk, eyes skimming your paper.

“I wanted to talk to you about this,” he said.

You nodded, too nervous to try speaking.

“This is some great work. This is the kind of essay that really sticks with you after you read it,” he said. His brown eyes were warm and soft and he sat forward in his chair.

You were dumbfounded, your anxiety quickly washing away.

“That’s probably how I know I already read this,” he said, his features suddenly darkening.

Your stomach plummeted into your feet. You were such an ass, thinking you could get away with it.

“I don’t tolerate plagiarism,” he told you.

With everything that had been going on this semester, you didn’t have it in you to complete this final assignment. It wasn’t like you were going to get a good grade anyway. You’d been so exhausted, you hardly cared if you got caught when you’d handed it in. But now that you had to face Professor York, you were kicking yourself.

“I find it highly disrespectful that you would try and pass this off as your work. You know you can be expelled for this?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’ve just had so much work to do-“

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he snapped.

You shut your mouth and felt tears bite at your eyes.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked in disgust. “That’s not going to work on me.”

“Professor, if I fail this class I’m not going to graduate. Please. I’ll do anything to just pass,” you said.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” you said. The word sounded so definitive when it left your lips.

Professor York leaned back in his chair, swiping his finger across his lower lip in thought.

“I can give you extra credit but you have to do exactly what I tell you,” he said.

You were so relieved, you nodded breathlessly.

His lips curled into a smile.

“What color panties are you wearing?” He asked.

Your cheeks set on fire but heat also pooled between your legs. “I- what?” You managed.

“Show them to me,” he commanded.

Your whole body flushed and you stared at him, wide eyed. You had to be dreaming. You’d always found Professor York sexy with that grin and his deep voice but he wouldn’t- this wasn’t happening.

“Do you want extra credit or do you want me to give this paper to your advisor?” He asked, his tone suddenly harsh.

You swallowed hard. Why did his words send a shiver down your spine? You picked up the hem of your skirt and lifted it so Professor York could see between your legs. You looked away, blushing deeply.

He made a guttural noise that made you drop your skirt and clench your thighs together.

“Give them to me,” he said.

Your mouth hung open. He looked completely serious, blinking at you slowly as if this was a casual request. You bit down hard on your lip but finally you relented.

You squirmed out of your panties, being careful that you didn’t give him a show in the process, and placed them in his large, outstretched hand.

He put them to his nose, inhaled, and then squirreled them away in his back pocket, all the while watching you with amusement.

“Stand up. Put your hands on the desk,” he said.

You couldn’t move, sitting there with a gaping mouth. Finally he narrowed his eyes and you did as he said. You put your palms against the table top, aware of the vulnerable way you were leaned over. His eyes moved over your form and he wore the same self-satisfied expression that came when a student asked a stupid question.

Once he was finished admiring your obedience, he stood up and walked behind you. Your heart was pumping wildly as he stepped closer and you could smell his cologne, leather and tobacco.

“I‘ll pass you but I don’t want you thinking you’re getting off easy,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

He chuckled and your breath caught. You felt him lift your skirt up, the fabric skimming over your bare ass, and you gasped. He didn’t touch you but he made a noise of approval that shot through you.

“I’m going to hit you five times,” he said into your ear. “You tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded without even knowing you were doing it. What the fuck was happening? You were standing in the empty lecture hall, bent over, ass out, and desperate to graduate. You couldn’t believe Professor York’s audacity and yet you were going to let him spank you like you were a little girl. It wasn’t like you had a choice, you told yourself.

Before you could make sense of it, his hand connected with you and you let out a grunt. Were you getting wet? You definitely should not be enjoying this.

He hit you again and this time a moan escaped from you. You clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Hands on the desk,” he commanded.

You put it back down and another strike came against you. The sound of his punishment seemed to be echoing off the walls of the empty room.

He pulled your hips into him to steady you as he went on. You loved the feeling of his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you firm.

When he was finished, you were nearly shaking, your pulse quick and your lips parted. You were still reeling not least of all due to the fact that you wanted more.

“Good girl,” Professor York purred smoothing his hand over the spot he’d turned red. His fingers dipped between your legs to feel the slick on your lips. “You’re not going to learn your lesson if you’re enjoying this.”

He came up right behind you so he could wrap his hand around your front and stroke at you. You were thankful your palms were braced against the desk because your knees nearly gave out.

“Professor,” you tried.

“Did I say you could speak?” he asked, a hand gripping your hair.

“What if someone comes in?” Your voice shook.

“Then you’ll have to tell them why you’re failing my class,” he said and continued to play his fingers between your legs.

You whimpered. You could feel his hard length through his pants pressed into the tender flesh of your ass. Your head spun. You knew how fucked up this was but you didn’t want it to end. Professor York’s fingers circled you expertly and you felt like you were melting in his hands. You forgot everything— the circumstances that lead you to this moment, that this was your teacher, that you were exposed in public. Nothing existed except for your pleasure building and building.

As the sensation mounted in you, you began to buck against his hand.

“Are you close?” he asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Good,” he replied and suddenly, his hand was gone.

You cried out in desperation. You clenched at nothing, left at the precipice with no relief. You were throbbing almost painfully. Professor York caught your chin in one of his hands, squeezing your face and wrenching your head around to look at him.

“Do you deserve to cum?” he asked.

You thought you might actually cry between your need for his touch and the fear his voice instilled in you.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No,” he confirmed.

He loosened his grip on you and, for the briefest moment that softness returned to his eyes. You looked at him, eyes glassy and practically drooling, wishing he would touch you again.

“Needy girl,” he chided. “On your knees.”

He pulled you to your feet by the back of your skirt and you got down, bare knees and shins on the tile floor. You gazed up at him, still a little nervous, still pulsing between your thighs.

Professor York undid a few of the buttons of your shirt and skimmed his knuckle across your breast with a hum.

“Maybe I should take this too. Matching set,” he said. He snapped your bra strap which made you jump. “Off.”

He palmed the bulge in his pants as he watched you remove your shirt and unhook your bra. He squeezed one of your tits and pinched your pebbled nipple until you flinched.

“You want to pass?” he asked you, repeating the motion on the other side.

You nodded and he arched an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you said.

“You want to please me?” Now his hand ran gently along your jawline.

“Yes,” you breathed. You’d been trying all this time, studying hard, staying up all night to perfect your papers. Now you had a new goal in mind though you were afraid it was just as unattainable.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed and when you did he spit into it. “Don’t swallow that.”

You stayed like that, with your mouth open as he released himself from his pants. There was a dark patch on his boxer briefs stained by precum. You watched him wildly as he pulled at himself and a glistening bead appeared at his tip. Saliva, yours or his, was dribbling out of the corners of your mouth, dripping on your hard nipples.

“Don’t you look pretty. I hope you can suck cock better than you write papers,” he mocked.

For some reason this was what made your eyes pop. You asked yourself if you were really going to suck off your professor for a good grade. As if you hadn’t just handed him your panties. As if you hadn’t just let him smack your ass. As if your thighs weren’t drenched with your own slick.

He approached you, still stroking himself and you were jealous. You wanted that friction on yourself, were dying for more.

You didn’t have to be told what to do. You wrapped your wet lips around his thick length and your tongue swirled around him.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded.

You looked up at him, and grasped his shaft in your hand as you sunk your mouth around him as far as you could go. Your saliva dripped down his cock pooling in your fist.

“Fuck,” he said.

That word excited you. You kept going, watching him try to keep his eyes open as you surrounded him. The noise of your lips on him was almost disgusting, wet and squelching, and yet it was driving you insane. You clenched your core for some kind of relief that wouldn’t come.

He thrust deeper into your mouth and you tried to take him in but gagged. You pulled away, his cock bouncing out of your mouth and you coughed.

“Good girl,” he said. “Look at you trying to earn that extra credit.”

Tears stung in your eyes as you tried to recover.

“You still want to cum?” he asked, one hand pumping himself slowly.

You nodded timidly. More than anything in the fucking world. But you didn’t want to seem too eager, aware that he was ready at any moment to rescind the offer.

“Sit on the desk,” he said and you did. “Greedy little brat.”

Professor York slid your skirt up your thighs and that sensation alone felt erotic. He inserted two fingers into your mouth and you sucked them hungrily while he grinned.

He slid them across your folds and you were already so sensitive your back arched. He surprised you by getting down on his knees, opening your legs and throwing your thighs over his shoulders. You leaned back on your hands, laid out across the desk, fully on display.

You heard a noise in the hallway and gasped, your head snapping towards the door. But your attention was immediately drawn back to Professor York when you felt him smack you between the legs.

“Do you want to cum or not?”

“Please,” you begged.

He gave you a dark smile and then began nipping at the inside of your thighs. When he got closer to your center, he bit and sucked hard. You let out a breath, a mix of pleasure and pain.

“When you think about this later, I want you to touch yourself and look at this,” he said, swiping the pad of his thumb over the welt he’d just left there.

You let out a shuddering breath and he began to nibble at your clit between his lips. When your hand automatically shot into his hair, he grabbed you by the wrist and removed it, holding your palm against the desk. His tongue lavished you, churning you into a frenzy, and it didn’t take long before you were back where you’d been before. You were panting and grinding your hips into him.

This time he let you hit your high and you trembled and thrashed as he worked at you. It felt like you’d been wiped out by a wave, not being able to sense up from down. You were mewling and shaking when you finally begged him to stop, overwhelmed and cloyed.

He stood and wiped you from his chin and then said, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

You nodded frantically. He pushed into you and you were sure he could feel you still fluttering around him. You were wetter than you could ever remember but still he was difficult for you to take and you inhaled sharply. He didn’t seem to care, snapping his hips into you and grunting, one hand balling your skirt in his fist against you. Soon, though, you were lost in the sensation of his thrusts.

You didn’t even realize that you were whining loudly as he fucked you, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Professor York took your panties from his pocket and shoved them in your mouth to stifle your cries.

“You’re going to have to quiet down,” he rasped.

You whimpered against the fabric in your mouth and he smiled wickedly. He put his hand around the back of your neck to draw you in closer and he pressed into you faster and faster. He pulled out and you heard your own muffled moan at the loss of him. He worked at himself, spilling over your thigh and on your skirt with a groan.

Both of you took a moment to catch your breath and you watched as the professor leaned over you on his hands, swallowed, and then stood up, as composed as ever. He laughed quietly to himself as he took the panties out of your mouth and smoothed his hair.

“Put your clothes on. I have another class to get to,” he said, handing you a handkerchief and zipping himself up. He slid your panties back in his pocket.

You felt shaky on your feet after you’d mopped up his spend. You got dressed wondering how you were going to get through the rest of the day commando, with a ruined skirt, and the remnants of your professor’s cum drying onto your skin. He didn’t say anything else. You hooked your bag over your shoulder and Professor York looked you up and down one last time. He handed you back your essay. It was soaked through down the middle and you realized you’d been sitting on it on the desk. At the top was a new note in red pen: see me after graduation and his phone number.

You got an A.

-----

tagging some folks: @pascalslittlebrat @mouthymandalorian @starlightmornings @purplepascal042 @originallaura @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @tuskens-mando @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @goddessinwolfskin @stevie75 @yespolkadotkitty @danniburgh @221bshrlocked

[chrisdiels-babygirl]

Teach Me How To Love

This is my original writing you do not have permission to copy it, changing the boy or slightly changing details is still plagiarism. If I find out you copied my writing I will not hesitate to publicly shame you and report your sorry ass✌🏼😗

✨Italics is a flashback✨

Our generation doesn't know how to love properly, we'll act like we're in a relationship but refuse to actually officially be in one. Before I met zabdiel I had never been in love, when I had met him I had told myself he was just another guy there was nothing special about him, but the more time we spent together the more I started to fall for him. It was in all the little things he would do like asking me to stay the night and cuddling me after sex, hanging out with me during the day, introducing me to his family, remembering little details about me, all of that just confused me. I had no idea just how much he was going to hurt me when we started this.

We had been acting like we were a couple for months. He had brought me home to Puerto Rico with him for his mom's birthday, we were inseparable and we spent almost every night in each others beds cuddling and talking about our days and the future. That all changed though when he hooked up with some random girl he'd met at a club on a night out, the next day we had had a big argument about it.

there he stood in his door way, hair a mess, eyes sleepy and his sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips. He looked beautiful, but I couldn't get distracted, I'm mad at him. I pushed passed him walking into his apartment, he sighed loudly "are you mad or something?" He obliviously asked, I looked at him eyes wild staring in complete disbelief "are you for fucking real, you fuck some random girl last night and have the audacity to ask if I'm mad or something, yeah zabdiel I'm pissed" I raised my voice at him getting upset, his face contoured in confusion "ok first of all I don't see how thats your business and secondly why you would be mad about it when we're not even dating" he grumbled with genuine confusion in his voice "not dating, zabdiel what the fuck do you think we've been doing for the last few months, we've literally been acting like a couple" I exasperated. A look of panic washed over zabdiel's face "I never said I was looking for a girlfriend y/n, we were just fucking around" he said. I stared at him, my blood was boiling at this point, he had led me on for months making me believe we were in a relationship when really he was just waisting my time "you're a fucking asshole you know that, matter of fact loose my motherfucking number, don't bother texting or calling me anymore" I yelled as I stormed out his apartment.

It had been five days since we had argued at his apartment, five days since I told him to leave me alone, he had appeared to be completely unfazed, like he never cared about me at all. Its so hard to let go of someone when you know how much you once cared for them. I had decided that I was going to get drunk to numb the heart brake and try to forget him and his stupid beautiful face. I decided to get changed into something more comfortable, as I looked through my closet something caught my eye, it was one of zabdiel's t shirts that he'd left here, I pressed it firmly against my chest, carefully lifting it to inhale its scent, it still smelt like him. I knew I shouldn't but I put his t shirt on because I missed him, I knew this was only rubbing salt in an open wound but I didn't care. I made my way over to the brand new bottle of tequila I had just bought, I knew I was going be a mess tonight but really I just didn't care anymore. It was now 2am, the bottle of tequila was 2/3 empty now sitting on the coffee table, I sat on the sofa with my feet resting on the coffee table while I stared at the wall thinking about zabdiel again, he had completely consumed my thoughts, how could he do this to me, he led me on until I had genuinely caught feelings for him, I hated myself for how much I cared about him even after he'd hurt me and I hated him for making me fall in love with him. I had decided to call zabdiel to give him a piece of my mind, he picked up on the third ring "hello?" He questioned "you're an asshole" I slurred "y/n are you drunk" he cautiously asked "you led me on for months, made me fall in love with you and you're an asshole for that, if you even cared about me a little bit you wouldn't have hurt me like that" I sniffled as tears streamed down my cheeks "nena I'm sorry I never meant to hurt you" he whispered so softly I almost didn't even hear him "but you did" I croaked out as my voice cracked, I quickly hung up the phone trowing it on the sofa beside me.

Twenty minutes had passed before there was a knock at the door, I quickly wiped my eyes and tried to stop crying as I walked to the door, as I opened it I came face to face with the person who was the reason for my tears. He scanned me from head to toe taking in my puffy eyes, my tear stained cheeks, then he realized I was wearing his t shirt he fought a smile trying to make its way across his face "what the hell are you doing here" I tried to sound strong but my voice failed me by cracking "I eh came here because I'm sorry and because I miss you" he gently spoke "you haven't bothered to speak to me in five days and all of a sudden when I call you, you're sorry and miss me" I asked in disbelief, he sighed "baby I've missed you, believe me, I tried moving on but I can't" he pleaded "zab I just, I can't do this, you clearly don't want a girlfriend and I can't let you hurt me anymore" I tiredly told him. He stood forward tucking me into his embrace "I want you, only you, no one else" he softly spoke carefully pulling back slightly to look at my face. I looked at his face looking for any sign of deception, there was none "are you asking me to be your girlfriend this time" I asked carefully, he grabbed my face with both his hands, resting his forehead on mine while gazing into my eyes "Mi amor serás mi novia" he nervously asked, I stared at him while mulling my options over until I came to a decision "ok but if you hurt me again you won't be getting another chance" I warned him, a big toothy smile spread across his face, his dimple on full display as he carefully picked me up pressing me against the door while he passionately kissed me "honestly thats disgusting" my neighbor ms Johnson muttered as she came out of her apartment, zabdiel grinned at her "hi ms Johnson" zabdiel beamed as he lazily waved at her, she huffed looking at us in disgust. Zabdiel let me down, as I turned to walk inside he slapped my ass "time to make up properly" he smirked at me as he closed the door.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Chapstick (Lance Tucker x you)

Characters: Lance Tucker x female Reader

Summary: Y/N was in the middle of getting trained for the Olympics when her boyfriend decided to talk to her just to break up. Lance sees his trainee having a mental breakdown and he didn't hesitate to comfort her.

Warnings: A LOT of cuss words. We're talking about Lance Tucker, Tater tots. An asshole ex boyfriend. Kinda asshat, Tucker. Just kinda?

Words: 3,763

A/N: This is my first oneshot for him, I guess? I hope y'all would love it because I had fun writing him!

Disclaimer: GIF'S and pictures used are not mine. Only the edits are and the oneshot of course. 😉 Credits to the owners of the GIFS.

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME. 

"What do you mean it's not good, coach? I've did what you wanted me to do!" You huffed and panted at the same time. Chest heaving up and down as you eyed your hot coach, all prepped up with his blue, white and red uniform that he never ceases to forget to wear every damn day. He stood before you looking like a Greek god and you mentally slapped yourself for thinking about obscene things with him when you were in a relationship with your boyfriend. Plus, Lance was a total douche towards you so imagining those things could make you cringe at the thought because of his obnoxious personality that was overpowering the attraction you had for the man, mentally killing the attraction you had.

"You wobbled," Lance 'the fucker' Tucker spat as a matter of fact, squinting his eyes on your ungraceful form, probably judging you inside his head.

You rolled your eyes in discreet, he probably saw that because you do it all the time but he didn't bother acknowledging it. You marched out of the mat to go chalk your hands because it seemed to sweat a little much today. Your high bun ponytail swinging in the same time with your heavy footsteps. Here you thought your coach would stop pestering you, it turns out he never knew when to shut his filthy..gorgeous mouth of his.

"Did I tell you to fucking walk off?" Lance spat, his brows cinched together. He was acting like a pole was up in his butt, even more hot headed than the days before. He was certainly not helping your mixed emotions running inside your stupid head. "I'm this close to ripping your balls away and making you eat it alive!" You reprimanded back, teeth gritted together. The sudden power answering him back shocked you because you never did since day one. However, today seemed to be an exception. Lance was acting more of an asshole than he is and he better not make a mistake because you could turn feral when provoked.

"Do it! Fucking do it, I fucking dare you, Y/N!" He barked back, marching towards you with that fiery gaze of his. His gaze looked so sexy and hot, yet you were trying your hardest not to get affected by your raging hormones travelling inside of your head and in between your legs. You were a taken lady, have a boyfriend even. A boyfriend who appear to be distant and cold the past weeks. Your heart stopped beating when you felt Lance's hands on the sides of your arms, his fingers digging on your sides, he leaned down to be in line with your vision. It was then and there you saw how beautiful the colors of his eyes were, they were a pretty pair despite of the pissed off look he was giving you. He was being the epitome of a walking sin. "You're all talk and less action, Y/L/N. Kitty got scared?" His pretty Steele blue eyes was livid. Eyebrows all up and daring you, "I'd rather have your lips sucking my balls, wouldn't it be a waste if you would throw it away? Come on, Y/N." He clucked his tongue, cocking his head to the side as he found everything amusing, yet slightly aggravating for you. "Have a little fun while you have it,"

Lance's tasteful lips turned into a smirk, his demeanor goading you into grabbing the bait. "My nuts won't bite...unless triggered,"

Your jaw was tightly clenched, your next words coming out of your lips harshly, eyes completely trained on the piercing blue eyes of your trainer, trying hard not to back down and kiss his feet. "You sick fuck," Your nickname for him made him raise a brow, shaking his head in entertainment. "Why are you even so mad at me right now? I did nothing wrong!"

His hands began to rest on the sides of his hips, and you knew in that simple gesture meant that he switched to his coach mode, full rant about your performance with the practice was about to get jot down like bullets. "You keep doing mistakes, even have a difficult time registering the basics inside your head!" Lance licked his lips in aggravation, pointing a finger at you. "If you're goddamn distracted because of one stupid fucking lover problems, you better know to throw those pathetic distractions away while you're here! We gotta act professional, Y/N!"

An audible loud snort came out of you as you shook your head in utter disbelief. "Wow," You spat as a matter of fact, giving him a series of claps. Entirely amused by the methods of his coaching. "So much to say for yourself, Coach. Aren't you the sick fuck who was asking a twenty year old to suck his balls a while ago?"

He had back you away till your back hit a cold metal pole. Lance was eyeing you down like a lion watching his prey, never even forgetting to give you a once over because you looked completely exquisite in your leotard. "I wasn't asking," He muttered nonchalantly, popping a gum inside his filthy mouth, Mint. Definitely mint because whenever he had to talk to you up close, his minty breath was all you could ever sniff besides his spicy, macho perfume that all the itchy ladies loved. "It was a great suggestion rather than ripping my balls off alive," Lance chewed on his gum very loudly, making you more irritated by his huge ego, conceitedness and arrogance.

He was clearly even a walking asshat, you mindlessly thought over the back of your mind. Embedding that opinion inside your head over and over again.

Your staring contest was cut off when both of you heard a loud knock on a wall, letting his presence be known. Lo and behold, the boy who had forget about you for an entire week stood at the end of the gym. Looking all innocent and anxious as he stood his weight from one foot to the other. He then yelled, never looking bothered that Lance seemed to be rather much close to you and has you trapped in his presence. "May I speak to her?" Your boyfriend croaked out, sounding unattractively throaty. "It's important,"

Lance spun his heels around, his brows deeply furrowed, eyes squinted and glaring at the young man who came to see you. He looked definitely more furious than before, "What if I fucking say no?" He spoke aloud, oblivious that he raised a hand to brush his perfectly fuck boy gelled up hair. "We're practicing! Come back when she's fucking done being an uncoordinated gymnast!" He lowly snorted, only you had the advantage because you were close to your asshole of a coach. His piercing blue eyes swiftly landed on you, cocking his head to where your boyfriend was, a lopsided smile on show. "Limp dick's here to get his damsel in distress, if you ever were in a fucking distress which I clearly can't see,"

"Can you stop being an asshole for one second?" You exasperatedly whisper-yelled at the Adonis in front of you, sounding desperate as you were on the verge on exploding all your pent up emotions towards everyone. You definitely had to deal with your boyfriend right now, and Lance is not helping. Your heels whipped around, eyes leaving your very amused coach in the gym as you flipped him the bird after he yelled, "I'm giving you five minutes, so you better not fuck like rabbits in my gym!"

You shake your head, rubbing your temples together as you paraded towards where your boyfriend was, looking serious and mad. Well, what was his problem then? You weren't the person who became distant, forgetting that you have a boyfriend. It was technically the other way around. Arms crossed in front of him, you glared into his eyes. Totally showing how pissed off you were at him, yet the sentence he spat seem to irk you more. "Lance Tucker? Really, Y/N? There are tons of great coaches in the world, why the fuck did you pick him?"

"Everybody had 24 hours a day, so why didn't you fucking bother talking to me when all I ever wanted was a bit of your attention?"

(Y/BF/N)'s eyes went all wide. Igniting that growing anger inside of him. "Don't change the topic, Y/N--"

"You're here to bitch out about why I chose Lance as a coach? Why don't we skip the irrelevant problem and go straight to the main problem? Why. Did. You. Ignored. Me. For. A. Week Y/BF/N?" Your words were emphasized and even your emotions. The more that your conversation continues, the more it gets intense. From the moment you've started raising your voice, a man who have been busying himself with his phone on the other end of the gym have raised his head, instantly setting his pretty blue eyes as he was checking if you were still fine.

Which is exactly the opposite.

"Babe," Y/BF/N tried to reach your arm, yet you were faster and harshly jerked his hand away. "Oh no you don't," He dropped his hands in a tight fist, glaring down at your figure. Oh, the audacity. "Don't call me that because it's giving me shivers,"

"Bet he calls you that too," He spat, his eyebrows cinched together in fury. Was he really thinking you and Lance had something together? Sure, your coach was a womanizer, but you...you won't go that far with him. Your mind was set, you've picked Lance because he won gold and silver. He has a lot of potential in teaching you how to win the gold. You know everything happening was strictly professional..sometimes. But, it's not the point. You know he's a great gymnast.

Former limp dick shrugged his lanky shoulders, staring straight at you with no remorse, showing the animosity that you didn't expect to come from him. He was acting strange, like he's become a changed man in just over a week. "You probably moan his name in bed either, Maggie showed me the video,"

Well, that made your eyebrows grow up higher than the empire state building.

"Maggie--Maggie Townsend? How the fuck do you even know her? And what video?"

You've notice a pair of eyes have been on you since the moment your argument started, you couldn't help but take a glimpse at the asshole of a coach that you have.

His eyes were tightly squinted together, Lance looked like he was ready to pounce on Y/BF'S/N, eyebrows all furrowed and serious..Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him being all protective, guarding you like a hawk. Even thinking that your boyfriend would hurt you at that exact moment..Not until Lance started wiggling his brows, nodding knowingly at you while he raised his wrist, showing you the time while he gestured that you only had two minutes left.

Y/BF'S/N technically curved your question and started ranting with his unstoppable dirty ass mouth, making your insides go at war with your emotions. He was really getting on your nerves right now and Lance didn't let that go unnoticed when you started impatiently tapping your foot on the floor while you tightened your fists. "Don't be an in denial bitch, Y/N. You're just like everybody else. What's even special about him? His huge ego? Conceited self? A narcissistic bastard? Or his arrogance turned you on, so that's why you gave in?" He whisper-yelled, scared that Lance would hear the argument. Wow, what a limp dick indeed.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING?" You yelled and the whole gym echoed. Lance began to cross his arms, his thewy biceps already popping out of his red, blue and white uniform. Every little bit of his attention was practically on you, and only you.

"Don't play dumb on me, Y/N. I had to force this out of Maggie in exchange for..something valuable. If I didn't give her what she wanted, then I wouldn't have known this,"

"What the fuck are you talking about? What did you even give her?" You didn't realized that your voice started to go quieter, smaller and weak. There was a hunch inside your head, but you were trying your hardest not to believe it. However, your boyfriend's next words broke you whole, tearing the trust and love you had for him. Even your big, youthful heart.

Y/BF'S/N's whole demeanor changed, he held his head up high as he looked down on you. Seeing you in the verge of tearing apart was feeding his ego and pride. It was making him damn happy for a lie that was fed off to him by a woman who was extremely infatuated at him. Hard. "Paradise. Just like those kind that Mr. Lance-the-fucker-Tucker gives you,"

"W-What?" You stuttered, and Lance saw how your shoulders fell. It wasn't the Y/N he knew. You should've sassily raised a brow at your boyfriend, show him those fangs that he sees all the time.

Lance sighed exasperatedly to himself, pinching at his temples. "Fuck, Tucker. Don't interfere, don't fucking involve yourself." He chanted like it was his mantra.

"That's right, Y/N. Now, you know how it feels,"

You blew out a breath you've been holding, glowering at him with an incredulous glint in your eyes. "Are you seriously thinking straight right now?" You spat, squinting your eyes at him and realizing that his eyes looked entirely different, too different and colored. "Oh, God. No you aren't. Your eyes are full blown red, you're...you're--"

Lance saw how you washed your face with your hand, trying to hold back on punching your ex-boyfriend in the face. He saw you raise your arm, pointing towards where the exit was.

"Get outta my fucking sight, Y/BF/N! You're a fucking douche bag, an asshole!"

Y/BF'S/N cocked his head to the side, smirking widely. His mouth never knowing when to stop, "If I'm an asshole, then you're a bitch. Fair enough?"

The whole gym was quiet, your mind went blank and you just wanted to scream at him for showing you his true demons. He wasn't the boy you used to love, the boy in front of you was a huge bastard, he even had the courage to smirk after basically telling you he had sex with your friend turned enemy when she began leaving you for a new, popular group of friends and her boyfriend who have been the popular boy in school.

Past was definitely the past. Time's changed now and you were already in your freshman year, you knew she went to a university far from you but you didn't expect she'll still be around. Maggie even had to guts to ruin your relationship and lie just to have her favorite, new eye-candy who was technically not available, yet that didn't stop them from fucking each other.

You could feel yourself frowning, eyes all cloudy and warm. Uh-oh, you thought to yourself. Your tears were threatening to fall and if he doesn't leave, then he'll have the satisfaction to see you crying over a worthless boy.

"Aw, guilty as charged, Y/N?" He badly teased, leaning down to take a better view of your face. You were about to open your mouth and shout a loud cuss on his face, yet you heard a voice that you didn't expect would be your knight in shining armor because he can also be a knight in shining asshole at the same time. But, to make everything a little better, Lance probably thought it was time to show his assholey-ness towards a person who was born the same race with him.

"Hey, dick-sucking-fucker! That's enough! Out of my fucking gym," Lance crossed his arms after practically marching with heavy foot steps as he went towards where you were. Y/BF'S/N gave him a scowl and to your surprise, Lance snaked his hand on your shoulder, clamping his hand tightly on your arm. Mentally telling you now to cry over a petty boy like your ex. You bit your lip hard before squeezing yourself in between the empty space of Lance's arm, which made him lift a lopsided smile when you did.

He saw how your ex-boyfriend took notice of the interaction. That's good, Lance's mindlessly thought at the back of his mind. That's what he wanted Y/BF'S/N to feel. He wanted him to die inside his own insecurities and doubtfulness, believing over a manipulated gossip that was obviously a lie.

"What are you going to fucking do about it, asshole?"

Lance shrugged, chewing on his gum rather loudly than he intended too. "I'm letting you choke up a fucking pole while you try and smoke another joint, Limp dick."

"M-My dick is not limp," Y/BF'S/N reprimanded, stuttering by Lance's intimidating aura. Just his mere presence could make his ego turn to dust. Your coach snickered, chuckling to himself and raising his hand to point out what he wanted to say. "Small dick? better? I remember how Y/N told me it was a size of a--what was that called? Oh, a fucking Chapstick,"

"You assho--!"

"I'm an asshole, but at the same fucking time," Lance breathed though his nose, eyes blazing and taunting. "I'm the fucking God of gymnastics and that's why your fucking girlfriend whom you took for fucking granted chose me over your good-for-nothing self!"

You were moved when Lance rapidly snatched your ex-boyfriend's shirt by the neck, his steele blue eyes entirely in rage, completely heated with anger because of how Y/BF'S/N was disrespecting you. Your heart stopped as you stared at the both of them having an intense staring competition.

You could see how Lance was panting hard and how startled your ex boyfriend was from how your coach snapped. "Leave, weed dick. I don't want you near my gym at all costs, if all you'll ever do is let a beautiful, precious woman cry her heart out, then you better leave. Out. NOW. "

Beautiful. Lance's words kept replaying inside your head even after he pushed your ex-boyfriend away towards the exit. He suddenly became nice and it was impossible.

You stood rooted on the ground, completely shook from the sudden plot twist that happened in your life. The loud bang of the door made you jump, and you saw how Lance marched towards you. A grimace shown in his attractive features. Once he stopped in arms reach, you were startled to feel his rough fingers wiping your hot tears away. "Stop," He nonchalantly uttered, ignoring your questioning eyes. "Stop crying for a useless asshole like him, he doesn't fucking deserve it,"

He placed his hands on his hips after wiping your tears away, scratching his neck as he glanced to see your eyes that needed answers from him. "What--Do you--" You started but ceased yourself to continue as you thought everything all out. You were about to open your mouth for the second time when his next words kept your mouth zipped.

"I meant it,"

You raised a brow at him. Sniffing your snot away. What did he mean that he meant it? Your asshole of a boyfriend broke up with you and now your coach says he meant it? Did he meant to call you beautiful? He's kidding.."I meant that he's a fucking limp dick, Y/N. Do you really think I'll fucking call you beautiful when you're giving me a headache because of being so uncoordinated?!" Lance saved himself from being misunderstood. Unless, he was lying. He was now crossing his bulgy arms, and repeatedly placing his hand back on his hips like he was acting fidgety.

"I wasn't even saying anything?" You spoke back, a small smile wanting to come out but you're fighting it back. Trying to appear serious in front of your bothered coach. "You're uncoordinated and fucking hard headed," Lance sternly muttered to himself, his scowl and eyebrows tightly cinched together. Finding out how those words slipped out of his dirty little tucker mouth. You could feel your hidden pride clapping inside of your brain as a smirk lifted your lips up in entertainment, "I'm uncoordinated and hard headed,"

Lance huffed to himself, eyebrows raising as he nodded so big. "Took you long enough to realize, Y/N!"

You lowly laughed to yourself, eyeing him up as he was towering over you. His perfume so aromatic that it could hypnotize you and maybe it did because you were starting not to think straight, "But that didn't stop you from staring at my ass the entire time,"

You stood on your tippy toes, trying to reach his ears and the look on his face was priceless. "I'm uncoordinated and so hard headed that you so wanted to fuck, Lance Tucker."

Y/N had the last laugh because she was right and for the first time, Lance the fucker tucker was speechless because everything she said was true and he couldn't believe it himself.

PLEASE DO REBLOG, COMMENT OR LIKE THIS POST! IF YOU WANT MORE, GO FOLLOW MY BLOG PROFILE! Thank you for reading, Tater tots! 

MY BLOG PROFILE

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

And we have some plagiarism...

There’s a fairly popular BTS story called The Dragon’s Omega by Mia, aka tigersandbunnies on Wattpad. 

In a recent update, they said: 

Which is bullshit, because Mia aka tigersandbunnies did not write that fic. 

Ann-Katrin Byrde wrote that novel, and Mia stole it. 

Here’s the first page from Mia’s fic: 

And here’s the first page from Amazon’s Look Inside feature, from Ann-Katrin Byrde’s The Dragon’s Perfect Omega: 

And Ann-Katrin Byrde is not Mia aka tigersandbunnies. 

Now let’s take a look at Mia’s fic “All I need is you.” 

And now we’ll compare it to Ann-Katrin Byrde’s novel A Dragon’s Miracle: 

Oh, but the fuckery doesn’t end there, because now it runs right into the audacity: 

Check out that tiny little “based on the novel by Ann-Katrin” at the end there. No, you didn’t base it on anything. You stole it. You had no permission to use it, and you stole it word for word. And to add insult to injury, you didn’t even credit the actual author by her full name. 

FUCK PLAGIARISTS. 

Did you guys know that if Amazon thinks your book is available for download on any other site, it can get you kicked out of KU? Which can lose you potentially thousands of dollars a month? So for anyone who thinks this isn’t that big of a deal and it’s not harming anyone, FUCK YOU TOO. 

Can I get a signal boost on this please, from any BTS fans who also follow me?