#yes I tag them because of the panel

[littlefankingdom]

Instead of calling Bruce Wayne a capitalist, just say you have never read a Batman comic.

Or that you don't know words' meaning.

Bruce is a privileged white man, born rich and the heir to a fortune and a company. That doesn't make him a capitalist, that makes him a privileged man. Being a privileged rich man who owns a company in a capitalist society also doesn't make him a capitalist (it's the fucking meme again.) He has no power over this, he couldn't choose who he will be born as or where. He is a nepo baby, but that doesn't make him a capitalist.

The correct definition of a capitalist is: a person who uses their wealth to invest in trade and industry for profit in accordance with the principles of capitalism.

Bruce Wayne is literally famous for not doing that, because he invests his wealth in healthcare, housing, education... Literally anything Gotham needs and the gov cannot pay for. Literally nothing that he can make profit from. He doesn't care about profit AT ALL. Investing??? That's not in his vocabulary. And, btw, Bruce doesn't believe it should be a private company doing this. I'm going to use Future State: Dark Detective again, but in it, he states clearly that he thinks rich people should pay their big taxes instead of having lavishing lifestyles (he pays his, btw, and I'm sure he doesn't use the charity to pay less), and the gov should use this money to make everything better for others. And that's not the only time he says that stuff.

"But, if not capitalist, why Bruce keeps WE and money? Why doesn't he change the system?" For the latter, Bruce is one man, he cannot change the system on his own, but also, if he was able to change the evil capitalist way of the USA, the story would be over. It's just like how whatever he does, Gotham never gets better: the story would end. For the former, he keeps WE for two reasons. 1, it's his parents' legacy, that's explained multiple times, and he feels like he would disappoint them if he gives it up. 2, because he knows other rich people don't care and don't use their money for nobody but themselves, and if he gives WE up, all that money and power would end in the hands of an asshole. With him and his kids, he can trust that money to go to the people.

I don't have the energy to demonstrate again how Bruce hates rich people, just look up my posts about Bruce. I have used examples.

If you tell Bruce Wayne "The rich should be dry out, and their money should go to help people and make society better", he would say "Hell yes". That's that he CANONICALLY wants.

When you call Bruce Wayne capitalist, you are showing, at best, that you have so little reading comprehension skill that you cannot understand comic books, at worst, that you don't know shit about our economic and politic hellscape you lived in and the words you use.

Yes, this is because of that fucking panel from Boy Wonder where Ra's Al Ghul calls Bruce a capitalist dog.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Quest Continues...

(part 1- part 2)

[muckyschmuck]

ultimately!

[necrotic-nephilim]

there is not enough femslash in batcest circles. the girls deserve to be just as weird about each other as the boys are. if BruDick gets to be weird father/son/brothers/lovers/friends/rivals/soulmates then it is only fair that Babs/Cass get to be mother/daughter/sisters/lovers too. Something about that deep intrinsic but undefinable love that is born out of trauma, especially if you consider Cass not knowing what healthy love looks like in the first place. i think it's fun and deserves just as much fandom content.

besides that, you can get even more niche with rarepairs like Helena/Steph. Huntress/Spoiler: Blunt Trauma is already a fantastic comic and even though it's their only real canon interaction it has so much potential. very comparable to TimJay in how Helena tries to get Steph to understand her morals and the corruption you could play with it.

batman: huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma (1998)

that comic also highlights on how both Steph and Helena are outcasts of the Batfamily and don't have the approval of Bruce to be doing what they do in "his city". I think there's so much Potential in Helena taking Steph under her wing because Bruce won't let her in and it becomes a weird codependent toxic sapphic mess. I think the protectiveness Helena feels over Steph from the get-go is so clear and the way she wants to look out for Steph, wants to make sure Steph understands the real world? I love them. Helena should be allowed to steal Steph, actually. I think it'd be fun.

there are a lot of other possibilities too like Babs/Steph or even getting weird with Helena Bertinelli/Helena Wayne and the existential question of "is it selfcest or not." But these two specifically live in my head rent-free, especially Helena/Steph and one day I'll convince everyone else to ship it too.

[danwhobrowses]

And so, I have done a thing!

Well, things, lots of things, it's not the best thing you'll ever see but...let's just say an attempt was made XD

This sequence latched onto my brain and refused to let go a few months ago - around after Downfall Part 2, which meant a lot happened to since then; falling cities, PVP, soul anchor surgery, Vassalheim speeches, 3 communes with Gods, 1 dead and loomed deadbeat dad, a flashmob-esque theatre deception, dragon bonding, a Nana Mori romance triangle, Grogery Strongjaw, a night at Musée de C-Popper, spin the bottle, a smooth post-spin the bottle makeout that left me walking on air for a week and a cute snuggle in the curl of a dragon - and from sketches on post-it notes all the way to now it has released unto the wild!

Also because Callowmoore has my heart and soul and it deserves more fanart, so despite my better judgement of my artistic skills this is a contribution

[unordinaries]

presented without comment

(chapters 280 + 344)

[themyscirah]

Thinking about current continuity Vanessa and just getting pissed off again

Like one, LET HER REST oh my god dc you ruin her FUCKING life like an asshole only to bring her back as a villain after she finally got out oh my god-

But also like its just so bad. This is a whole other woman with her name like why are we doing this. Like first you kill her mom (JULIA NOOO) and erase her YEARS of history growing up around diana (the thing that actually made her villain turn [if you can call it that w the level of manipulation involved] interesting and fucking heartbreaking) for some shitty "oh I saved you we were friends" run of the mill whatever. Then to use that and say Nessie had a crush on her OWN SISTER (Diana, so like informally adopted, but still 😡) now????

And then they took away her curls and made her a redhead but not even the realistic kind. DC SHE DOESNT LOOK LIKE THAT

It just makes me so mad. Freaking guys. They could have used another name like oh my god. She's not even the first silver swan why the fuck would they do that if they're not going to explore her history w diana (which she no longer has!!!!) or how intensely fucked up everything got for her. What is even the fucking point of this then other to drag a main character of the ww supporting cast through the mud again for genuinely no reason. They could have easily had her be Valerie Beaudry (sorry Val) instead or just MADE UP ANOTHER NAME because it's obvious that no one actually cared about her as a character they just wanted the wondy villain back so like !!!!!!!!!! Why even bother

[soultoken-archived]

american comics are wild, man.

[softness-and-shattering]

Is the article agreeing, disagreeing, or neither? There's too many layers here, "as a trans man at this woman's only event". That's not male privilege it's transmasc erasure. Idk what's going on here.

[fricklefracklefloof]

[ID by @hijab-described: A four panel comic. A woman in a white hijab stands inside a classroom. Text reads, "A year ago, Eslam was teaching children in schools."

Framed family pictures in front of a cracked wall. Text reads, "She was a mother of two girls and her husband was a successful business owner. She had a beautiful home and family."

The four of them, huddled together in front of the ruins of a building. Text reads, "On October 7, 2023, everything changed. In December, Eslam and her family were displaced from their home. Then, her husband's learning center was blown up. By March 2024, Eslam's family had found their home completely destroyed.

Two sleeping children. Text reads, "Eslam's family has been living in a tent ever since. Her daughters have suffered from multiple skin diseases because the costs of soap and food are extremely high. With your help, Eslam's family can have better chances of living, or even evacuating Gaza. Please donate to their campaign if you can." /end ID]

for @eslamfamily3

eslam reached out to me recently asking if i could illustrate her family and of course i said yes. she has been so effortlessly kind to me even though it took me a while to get this finished. please, please listen to her family’s story, share and donate if you can. it would mean the world to us both.

you can visit eslam’s blog @eslamfamily3 for more information, she is also on instagram here.

as of now, eslam’s family has received $7,991 out of their $50,000 goal.

verified on entry #308 on @el-shab-hussein ‘s spreadsheet here.

also verified on entry #175 on the bees and watermelons spreadsheet here.

campaign has also been shared by @90-ghost

tags (thank you endlessly):

@pocketsizedquasar-3 @pomeg-glitch @ramshackledtrickster @atlas-of-galaxies @mxwhore @gasterofficial @samwise1548

[krysmcscience]

At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)

I am so normal about these old dorks.

I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.

I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.

Oh, and a little bonus comic:

Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)

Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:

Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)

Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃

In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)

Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\

[genderlessghoul]

I've been wanting to do this post for a while now so here is EVERYTHING I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE GHOULS' IMPERA COSTUMES.

Buckle up because I have a LOT to say about those, this is gonna be a very long one.

The costumes were designed by B Åkerlund, a Swedish costume designer who's worked with Ghost since at least Meliora (that's as far back as I was willing to scroll on her Instagram page lol). B Åkerlund has also worked for many other musical artists such as Lady Gaga, Beyoncé, Madonna, the Rolling Stones, Ozzy Osborne, Blink 182 and Hollywood Undead (information from her own website)

The masks were made by Bob Basset, a visual artists who works a lot with leather. I find his work fascinating, you can look him up on Instagram (nsfw warning, there's a few naked ladies).

Fun fact! The horns are real cow horns. That's the reason some of them have gold tips, to hide the imperfections that come with working with actual horns.

He does have a shop where he sells his items, there's a mask there very similar to the Impera ones. You can also buy Papa's batwings if you happen to have 2500$ lying around!

The jackets are made on the same model as one of Papa's. The back is decorated with a spine-like design made from leather and cording. It's adorned with a few of our classic Impera buttons. Some of the hems were left raw and some deliberate weathering was done to make it look old and worn.

Fun fact! The shoulder pieces are not sewn into the garment, I would assume for easier cleaning. I don't know if they're held by strong magnets or snap buttons.

The vest (my beloved 😩) is made from flocked velvet in a paisley pattern, the front hems embellished with satin piping. It closes in the front with custom metal clasps that are riveted into the garment. The D parts are attached with what seems to me like wide elastic, which would lessen the pression on the clasps when moving around a lot. The back is made from two different types of fabric, I'd have to touch it to be able to tell you what they are. I assume the panels closer to the sides have some mild stretch to them. The top of the shoulders are decorated with Impera grucifix patches.

The shirts were not custom made for the ghouls, altho they were altered. The original shirt in the vintage painter linen shirt from Punk Rave and it is still being sold. Some of the cuffs were altered, removing the ruffles for some of the ghouls, but not all. They were removed for Dew, Mountain and Phantom, Aether's didn't have them either. As far as I can tell, all the ghoulettes still have them.

An unfinished piece of linen serves as an ascot, that piece is decorated with a metal devil skull. The colour of the skull doesn't appear to be consistent between each ghoul, Dew's looks gold almost bronze while Phantom's is a silver-like colour.

Another modification is the buttons, a small portion of them were removed in favor of our Impera buttons. Some of the ghouls have more buttons replaced than others, which is still a mystery to me.

The pants are called Jodhpurs, they were invented in the 1800s as horse riding pants. The wide part at the hips and thighs allowing for better movement. The ones the ghouls wear don't reach all the way to their ankles, they stop a bit past the calf muscle, hidden by the boots. (Yes, the ghouls are effectively wearing capri pants)

The boots are motorcycle riding boots, decorated by a grucifix. Like the shirt, they can still be bought online through the All American Boots website, altho the price tag is... Headache inducing to say the least.

The cape is a piece of costume that was only briefly worn on stage by the ghouls, Aurora being the only one who still wears one. I would assume it gets in the way of playing very easily. The cape itself is made of two fabrics, a light blue satin and a dark grey suede. The two pieces are not sewn together at the bottom, they move freely from each other. The cape is attached on the left shoulder with a harness piece that has one strap across the chest, decorated with a metal buckle, and one under the armpit.

Aight that's it for me, have a nice day byyyyye!!

[rjalker]

Dear people who aren't physically disabled who plan to write fantasy settings:

[ID: Several images taken from the Geordi La Forge yes and no meme format, with Geordi holding out a hand disapprovingly for the no section, then pointing in approval for the yes section.

The first image is the meme:

No: "Saying the existance of magic in your setting means there are no disabled people (this literally just means disabled people are killed. AKA eugenics)"

Yes: "Having disabled people who use magical mobility aids and other assistive devices. Realizing that someone is still disabled even if their prosthetic arm is made of magic instead of plastic."

This is followed by four more panels of yes section:

"Geordi la Forge is still literally disabled. His visor helping him does not erase his disability and make him magically abled."

"Toph from Avatar: The Last Airbender is still literally disabled even though her Earthbending helps her. It does not make her disability ~magically~ go away."

"Having your disability be accomodated does not mean the disability goes away. Having a prosthetic hand, even one that's made of magic, does not mean you're not disabled."

"Magical mobility aids do not mean disabled people don't exist. It just means they use magical mobility aids instead of plastic or metal ones. A limb made of magic is still a prosthetic even if it's made of the soul of the universe instead of plastic and metal."

Then another no panel: "'There's no disabled people beacuse magic'".

Then one last yes panel: "'Magic helps disabled people in a variety of ways'".

End ID.]

This also applies to science fiction; just because Luke Skywalker's prosthetic hand is super advanced doesn't mean it's no longer a prosthetic, or that he's not disabled. Same with Darth Vader - just because he has a suit that lets him breathe and walk around doesn't mean he's not disabled. (And Star Wars' propensity for making the villains visibly disabled while the heroes disabilities get covered up by super advanced prosthetics is a topic that deserves its own post, especially with how ableist some of the authors of the books are. Troy Denning is especially ableist)

Edit:

Because people keep being fucking obnoxious and ableist in the tags, yes,,, motherfuckers, if you refuse to have disabled people in your setting, that does make you fucking ableist. If you say that the magic is used to cure all disabled people and that's why they don't exist, that's fucking eugenics.

You cannot ""cure"", more like remove all disabilities without fucking eugenics. Magically automatically destroying disabled fetuses (a very fucking popular trope!) is eugenics.

The only way to fucking "cure" autism is to fucking kill all autistic people, also known as eugenics!

What about people with PTSD? Do you just fucking brainwash them so they aren't traumatized anymore?

Do you force all Deaf people to be able to hear? Do you force all blind people to be able to see? Do you force all anosmics to be able to smell?

Do you magically force everyone with a speech impediment to speak to your standards?

Do you force everyone born with bodily or facial differences to live up to your fucking standard of beauty?

You cannot fucking say "disablities don't exist in this universe because magic cures everything" without inherently saying that eugenics exists in your fucking universe.

Not all fucking disabilities need a cure. If you ""cured"" my autism I'd just be fucking dead. You'd literally just be changing me into what you think is fucking acceptable.

Stop fucking arguing in defence of ableists on my fucking post so you can pretend that eugenics has never been written about in magical settings when it is extremely fucking prevalent.

And while we're fucking at it, let your gods damned characters become disabled over the course of their story, and call them disabled within the fucking story. I don't care if they're a robot. I don't care if they have magic. Not all fucking damage can be fixed. Curses exist. Hardware can go out of fucking date and no longer be manufactured anywhere.

Let your characters become disabled and do not magically fucking cure them back to brand new every single time they get hurt. The only thing you accomplish by doing that is destroying any chance of ever having stakes.

No, "magical healing leaves scars on the mind from the memory of the injuries though!!!!" is not fucking good enough. Let your characters have scars. Let them become disabled. Stop being fucking ableist cowards.

Edit number fucking 2:

No, motherfuckers, you do not get to comment "if the disability was caused by magic it's not ableist to cure it with magic". You are the ableist this post is about. Shut the absolute fuck up, stop treating being disabled as the worst possible outcome, and just admit you're a fucking ableist. If you don't want your characters to become disabled, then don't fucking make them disabled.

[ID: The Garfield "you are not immune to propaganda" meme, now edited to read:

"If your first thought upon reading this post is, 'Oh, but it's okay to magically cure disabilities caused by magic!' Congrats…you are the exact sort of ableist jackass this post is about."

End ID.]

Edit number fucking 3:

Autistic people exist! People who are born with disabilities exist! You cannot create a setting where disabled people do not exist because we're all "cured" or "fixed" and not inherently say that you are killing disabled people as soon as they're born, or fucking aborting us as soon as you figure out we'd be born disabled! That's fucking eugenics!

There is no way to "cure" autism without eugenics! There is no way to "cure" people with body differences without eugenics! There is no way to make disabled people nonexistant in your setting without eugenics! Thinking you can and should "cure" and "fix" all disabilities IS EUGENICS!

Also:

[ID: A character shouting at the camera, now edited to read: "Shut up about Dungeons and Dragons! Shut up about Dungeons and Dragons! If the rules of Dungeons and Dragons are ableist, then fucking change them! It is your fucking personal responsability to be a better person than your bigoted society wants you to be!". End ID.]

[ID: White text on a dark brown background with white and black borders around the edges, that reads:

"I don't fucking know or care about Dungeons and Dragons.

This post is not about Dungeons and Dragons.

Do not fucking throw the rulebook of Dungeons and Dragons at me like it's some sort of 'Gotcha!'.

You will literally just be blocked like the rest of the ableist assholes who've already tried it.

If you play dungeons and dragons, it's your responsability to make your games not be ableist, even if it means breaking the rules.".

End ID.]

I do not fucking care what the ableist rules are in Dungeons of Dragons. Do not fucking throw ableist rules for a game I have never and will never play at me on a post I made so that people could learn how to make their settings less ableist. If the rules in Dungeons and Dragons are ableist, then fucking change them. If you don't want to change them, then stop fucking playing an ableist game.

Disabled people deserve to see ourselves represented in fiction just like everyone else, without any fucking requirements that we be "cured" or "fixed" before the story ends.

How the fuck would you feel if a trans and gay character's whole story revolved around going on a quest to become straight and cis, did so, and only then was allowed to live happily ever after?

Why do you fucking think suggesting people write stories about disabled people going on a quest to be cured because it's the only way they'll ever be happy is any less fucking offensive?

Also:

This post is NOT a place for you to talk about how disabled people in fiction should have the option of curing their disabilities. It's just not. That's the fucking default for this society. That is not a revolutionary concept. It's not novel. We fucking know this society wants us gone. A post about how disabled people deserve representation is not the place to talk about how "Well, actually, in fiction disabled people should be cured!" Like that's not the fucking universal default???????????

Edit #4:

Everyone needs to stop tagging this singing praise for Fullmetal Alchemist. A story that uses disability as a punishment and the characters are on a quest to cure their disabilities is not the amazing representation you're all claiming it is just because the character who is only disabled because of DIVINE PUNISHMENT uses prosthetics.

Read this post, and this one. Fullmetal Alchemist is a hell of a lot more ableist than you people are letting on.

guess what you can now find a PDF version of this post on the web archive.

Edit #5! August 23rd, 2023!

A) Everyone. Disabilities that can only exist in the magical setting are still disabilities.

Trying to cure the younger brother's magical disability of being a soul floating around in a magical suit of armour is, in fact, going on a quest to heal a disability!

It doesn't matter if the older brother doesn't want to get his limbs back when they're going on a quest to heal the younger brother's disability! Especially when they BOTH get magically healed at the end!

Magical disabilities that can only exist in that setting, but not real life, are still disabilities, and it's not okay to magically heal them either! What part of the Garfield meme on this post did you all choose to ignore?!

B) When you leave tags on a post you are reblogging, the original poster can see them! When you leave tags on this post, I can see them!

If you think this post is ""too aggressive"" then simply do not reblog it! Don't fucking tone police me on a post I've had to edit five times now due to the constant ableism people have been commenting since I made it!

I have been called the R slur by multiple people in response to this post! People have literally reblogged this post to defend eugenics abortions! You can't see these comments or replies anymore because I blocked the poster!

If you think minorities are being too aggressive by responding appropriately to bigotry, you're a bigot! And you should either not reblog the post at all, or at the very least, shut the fuck up and not tone police us!

Do not fucking put tags on this post complaining I'm being too aggressive! That's called tone policing and you're a bigot if you do it! Don't fucking do it on anyone else's posts either! They can see your tags too!

C) When I fucking say Harry Potter fans are banned from this post, yes, this means YOU!

Either stop supporting a billionaire who's literally using the profits from her bigoted shittily written books to fund REAL FUCKING GENOCIDE, or fuck off!

By continuing to support the Harry Potter series, you are literally giving JK Rowling free fucking advertising! You are encouraging more people to read the series and watch the movies, spending more money and giving her more fucking money with which to LITERALLY SHAPE A COUNTRY'S LAWS TO COMMIT GENOCIDE. She is literally fucking fighting to make being trans illegal! She is literally fucking fighting to have even more of autistic people's rights taken away!

You cannot fucking be a fan of the Harry Potter series in 2023 and call yourself an ally to all the minorities harmed by JK Rowling and the bigotry baked into her shitty series!

Read another book! The Web Archive has tons you can read for free! Literally every single book on gutenberg.org/ is free! Including audiobooks for some of them!

If you write Harry Potter fanfiction, simply fucking get rid of the names and identifiable features and start writing original fiction instead! It's literally free!

Not supporting a literal fucking genocidal billionaire costs LITERALLY NOTHING! And if you refuse to fucking stop supporting JK Rowling, which is what you are doing when you support the Harry Potter series and squeal over her OCs, you are not an ally to any fucking minority! No! Not even if you're trans yourself!

= = =

Edit again Nobember 28th 2023 because this comment is just. such a perfect example for all of you that think this doesn't happen.

butter-whore2 said, two hours before this edit:

kind of a fan of tumblr's slightly more algorithmically elements for reminding me of the hell's other people construct for themselves but this one hits like five of the boxes. How do people do this to themselves? it's such a bizarre way to act over media I genuinely do not believe is capable of stirring an emotional response the metaphysics of disability here are unintentionally really funny but disability is not a coherent ontological framework, it's a vague descriptor for literally thousands of different things none of which lend themselves to categorizing Moralizing over fiction is incredibly lame.

Liking harry potter is also incredibly lame, it's not morally wrong nor transphobic and you do not get to decide that lol. people literally do get "cured" of their disabilities all the time, many of them have a positive experience in doing so. this is not what eugenics is.

the anti abortion stuff lol

Literally how do you live like this? you guys don't even read real books I don't get it.

Archived version of the comment for posterity.

So yeah, lofl, block this fucker.

[zhongrin]

a new age-restricted chatroom just opened! ⚠ (minors dni) ⚠

↬ (click to view) missing you ↠

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, modern!au, afab!reader, fem!reader, sexting (childe, zhongli), phone sex (zhongli, al haitham), established relationship, lots of dirty talking, abs & dick pics (digitally drawn/manga panel style), petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart, dear, darling, princess, love), praise (good girl), light degradation (slut, pervert), begging, brat taming (zhongli, al haitham), orgasm denial (zhongli), mentions of sex tape (zhongli), dom/sub relationship (zhongli), mentions of blowjob (childe), implied breeding kink (childe), sex toy (al haitham), no actual pics from 'your' side (pictures sent as ‘blank’ pic) from because everyone’s bodies are different <3

◇ a/n ◇ yet another chatroom, and this time, a spicy one with a 'call' feature, as promised from wayyyy back last year lol i am praying and hoping and begging to rex lapis that this wasn't cringe or awkward but if it is then i will pretend not to hear and i will not perceive hskdjskdh also, al haitham’s part was inspired by this long-distance couple's sex toy.

◇ notes ◇ recommended to view via pc/laptop screen ◇ you will be prompted to give your name, but if you don’t feel comfortable you can skip them entirely - if you do give your name, the data will only be stored locally on your devices

some little tidbits / notes:

yes, the wallpaper changes based on your local time.

(optional) send me screenshots of your favorite interactions or line lol

if you have yet to see ‘This chat has ended’ then- well, the chat has yet to end! be patient, it might take him some time to reply~ ;)

if the ui glitches, try turning the screen upright, back down, and then wait for a little (thanks @/prinrestcess for the tip!)

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter two:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: toxic mom, mentions of mental health issues.

➴ word count: 3.7k

💌 from me to you: thought of making this chapter 4k+ words long but then i felt bad for u guys so i made it shorter 🫂 hope u like it and thank u for reading!

౨ৎ

2024, MARCH

THE AIRPORT was filled with people, as it always was, but you were so used to Los Angeles’ fast pace that it didn’t bother you. With your suitcase in your left hand and your purse in the other, you walked towards the check-in area, after trying to locate your flight to Toronto on the panels.

Strangely enough, there weren't any flights to Toronto at one two forty-eight p.m., which was the time on the ticket your mom had sent you. You frowned but let it go, thinking that maybe they had some technical issues and forgot to put the flight there.

After waiting in line for about fifteen minutes, one of the staff finally called you. “Passport, please,”

You nodded and handed him your passport, waiting for your boarding pass. When he gave it to you, after weighing your suitcase and putting a tag on it, you called him again, confused.

“Excuse me, sir,” He looked at you, waiting for you to keep going. “This boarding pass says the flight is to Vancouver.”

He raised his eyebrow. “So?”

You chuckled. “I’m going to Toronto, not Vancouver,” you tried to explain, returning the ticket. “There’s been a mistake.”

“Ma’am,” he started, voice sounding a little bit too annoyed to your liking. “Your name is on the list for the flight AC 472, to Vancouver, Canada. You’re Madison Carter, right?”

“Yeah, I am, but—”

“Maybe you bought the wrong ticket but I can assure you, ma’am, this plane is flying to Vancouver.”

You stared at him, wanting to shout that you weren’t the one who had bought the ticket, your mom did; and you didn’t even want to be in Canada in the first place because you’d much rather clean the airport’s floor with your own tongue than to go back to the life you had in Toronto.

But unfortunately the worker didn’t have anything to do with your shitty past, so you just nodded and wished him a good day. Next thing, you grabbed your phone and called failed your mom’s number, praying that she’d pick up and tell you that it was a mistake and that she bought the wrong ticket and—

“Jessica Carter.”

“It’s Madison,” you greeted, trying your hardest to stay collected. “Mom, the ticket you bought me is to Vancouver, not Toronto.”

She went silent for a while, and you frowned.

“Mom, the ticket—”

“Yes, Madison, I heard the first time you spoke,” she made a tsc sound with her tongue. “What’s the matter?”

“What— what do you mean, what’s the matter? Isn’t the dinner in Toronto?”

“No.”

You heart was beating so fast inside your chest and your hands were starting to feel sticky and cold. You looked around the place, people coming and going, while no one seemed to notice the turmoil happening inside of your chest.

“We’re having dinner in Vancouver, at the place I texted you. Didn’t you check it?” She sounded annoyed. And no, of course you hadn’t checked, you didn’t need to. You knew it was going to be another fancy ass restaurant with fancy ass people and small ass meals that tasted ten times less than the price you paid for them.

“But why?” Your voice trembled, and you coughed to cover it. “Aren’t you guys in Toronto?”

“Madison, everyday I pray to God that one day you will finally actually love your family,” she hissed, and your heart actually stop. Or at least that’s how you felt. “Your dad isn’t working with the Toronto hockey team anymore, he quit last year and it was all over the news. I know you don’t care about your family but you could at least pretend to. What if a reporter asked you questions about us? What do you think it’d look like with the press when your dad’s own daughter doesn’t care about her dad?”

You wanted to scream at her, turn the phone off, leave the airport and pick Bella up at the dog hotel she was staying in and take her home so you could both cuddle for the entire weekend. You wanted to tell her that no one in that family knew what the word love meant, no one even cared about it. And even if you had known love once, it was gone now, and all you could do is continue with your life.

“Get on that plane, Madison. I’ll see you at Hawksworth at seven p.m. tonight and you better not be late. Have a safe flight.” She said before hanging up on you.

You stared at your phone’s screen until it went completely black. Sometimes, you asked yourself why you still did what your mom wanted. You were twenty-two, you had your own job and your own money. You wouldn’t exaclt lose anything if you stopped talking to her.

But then, every time you thought about not doing what she asked you to, or even stopping talking to her, you felt like the worst daughter in the whole green world. You felt ungrateful, and a feeling that left your chest so hollow you couldn’t breathe.

So you kept walking behind her, stepping only where she asked you to.

Sighing, you went back to walking towards the security area. There wasn’t anything that could be done and honestly, you were too exhausted to even think of something.

So, Vancouver it is.

౨ৎ

THE TAXI smelled like fried peanuts making you scrunch your nose.

You looked through the window, looking at the city you’d been born in and how much it’s changed. As much as you hated to admit, Vancouver had always been extremely beautiful.

You were on your way to the restaurant, feeling like you’d lost a thousand battles. When you arrived at your hotel earlier they had mistaken you for someone else and put you in the worst bedroom ever. And if that wasn’t enough, you had to take a cold shower because the shower heater wasn't working and now you were shivering because it was March and Vancouver was still cold as hell.

“Miss?”

You turned your head around, facing the driver. He was making a funny face at you and you were just about to ask what was so funny when he pointed outside. You followed his finger and well, there it was. The Hawksworth restaurant your mom loved so much. Ignoring the tug on your chest, you thanked the man and got out of the car.

Thanking past you for choosing a warm dress and comfortable heels, you made your way inside the restaurant, politely greeting the people you saw on your way to the hostess.

“Good evening,” you said, smiling at the blonde girl in front of you. “Madison Carter.”

“Good evening, ma’am. They’re waiting for you in the private room. Do you need someone to take you there?” She crossed your name on some fancy sheet and you shook your head. You’ve been going to this place ever since you were a child. You knew it like the back of your hand.

After a quiet thank you, you resumed your walk, mentally preparing yourself for what this evening was going to be. Your mom making sure to control all of your doings, your dad only talking about himself and his work and Peter— hell, you didn’t even know if Peter would be here.

It’s not like your mom treated him the same way as she treated you anyway, so if he wanted to get away with not coming to this dinner, he would.

When you turned to the left so you could enter the private area, your body was shocked with something, making your purse drop from your hold.

With heels so tall, you almost lost your balance, just staying in place because a hand, gentle yet extremely firm you noticed, grabbed you by the waist and pushed you to the side.

“I’m so sorry, are you—”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, no matter how much it’d changed. Looking up, you stared into Quinn’s blue eyes and held your breath.

“Madison.”

He said your name like it had poison in it, and it hurt. You still remember the last time you saw him and his family back in 2017, with him taking care of you while you were sick. How you tried so hard to memorize his features because you knew seeing him again in person would be nothing but close to impossible.

And yet here he was, standing right in front of you, wearing a fancy suit and many, many inches taller than you. His curls were carefully styled, pushed back with only a strand of hair falling down his forehead.

He had a stubble decorating his chin and it fitted him so perfectly, making him look older and mature.

Quinn Hughes still looked like the man you fell in love with when you were fifteen. And you weren’t exactly sure what to do with this information.

“Quinn.” You whispered, because you didn’t trust yourself enough to speak without stuttering.

“Jesus, finally, Madison, we’ve been waiting for you for ten minutes,” your mom’s voice filled the space and you jumped back, removing yourself from Quinn’s grip and remembering that you were still in the hallway of a famous restaurant, with people coming and going. “I see that you and Quinn are happy to see each other again.”

You bend down to grab your purse, choosing not to look at him while your mom talks. You had already seen enough in his eyes.

You got up and followed your mom, your body highly aware that the man you hadn’t seen for seven years, your best friend, was just a few steps behind you.

When you got to your table, you tried your hardest not to gasp out loud. Because your mind was probably playing games with you and you weren’t seeing the Hughes sitting with your dad and brother—

“Maddie!” You heard Jack shouting, looking like he didn’t care that they were at a five star restaurant.

You let out a wet chuckle, feeling your eyes wet with unshod tears. There they were; Luke, Jack, Ellen, Jim and… well. Quinn.

“Oh my God,” Ellen got up, immediately reaching for you. “You’re so pretty. And so grown up too!”

“Hi, Mrs. Hughes,” you smiled, squeezing her just as hard. “It’s so nice to see you.”

“You were always beautiful but,” she whistled, making you give her a little twirl. “Damn right.”

You giggled, feeling your chest a lot lighter. Despite being hurtful, this was a pleasant surprise.

“Hey, Mr. Hughes,” you greeted Jim, kissing him lightly on the cheek, just to watch the blush adorne his face like you knew it would. “Luke and Jack. You guys are taller than me now.”

“Hey, Maddie,” Luke got up, hugging you quickly, like a teenage boy who had just seen his first woman. “You’re all grown up too.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Jack asked, patting the seat beside him. You gave your own family a brief nod before sitting down, placing your purse on the chair and smiling at Jack, ignoring the fact that Quinn was sitting in front of you.

“I moved to LA a few years ago,” you explained, noticing how they were all paying attention to you. As they had always done. “I’m working as a model now.”

“Baby, we know!” Ellen smiled, squeezing Jim’s arms. “When I saw you on VOGUE last year I thought, this girl looks a lot like Madison. And then I realized. That was you!”

You smiled, bringing your shoulders to your ears, cheeks red and all.

“What do you think of LA, honey?” Ellen asked, resting her chin on her hand.

“I love it there,” you smiled. “Los Angeles is so full of life and opportunities. Not to mention the fact that I ran into super famous people all the time,” you giggled, remembering that one time you ran into Jennifer Aniston while you were grocery shopping.

“You are famous now too, M,” Jack jokes, making you laugh. “Are people there nice to you?”

You stared at his blue, gorgeous eyes and smiled, frankly. They were worried about your well-being and it made your heart flutter. Not even your own family asked these questions.

“Yeah, Jackie, they are,” you nodded. “I really love it there.”

“Then we’re happy, honey.”

They moved on to another topic of how all of you are so grown now, and how well you were all doing in your careers. Your parents were mostly talking about Peter, and how proud they are because he’s in his last year of medical school, soon to be a resident in orthopedic surgery.

You didn’t mind the fact that they preferred to talk about Peter and his accomplishments over you, in fact, you actually preferred it this way. That way they would leave you and your choices alone, which was what you wanted. Besides, you could keep stealing glances from Quinn’s beautiful, comforting face here and there. Not that he was looking at you, or even talking your way.

You couldn’t exactly blame him. After he left for Michigan, your mom made sure you didn’t have time to grieve over him leaving, no. She was making sure you were on the cover of Fashion’s at the ripe age of sixteen.

And when you thought of reaching out first, you took a peep at his and his university’s Instagram. And he was always surrounded by beautiful, talented girls who were his age and seemed to know what they were doing. And you were just like the little, ugly duck, sixteen and naive.

So you never really contacted him or his family, for that matter. You knew your parents still kept in touch with the Hughes, but they never told you anything— and you didn’t ask. But Quinn couldn’t be too upset with you because he had never reached out to you either. So you were both pretty much even.

“What are you doing after we leave here?” Jack asked beside you, after swallowing down his food.

“Honestly?” You chuckled. “I’m gonna go back to my hotel and sleep. I’m tired.”

“No way,” he almost pouted. He liked twelve years old all over again. “You’re coming with us, we’re heading to a club after this, it’s our last night together with Huggy bear,” he pointed at Quinn, who was eyeing him weirdly. “And now, it’s our last night with you too.”

“You’re leaving already?” You frowned.

“We’ve been here for a few days now but it’s still the season. We need to head back to Newark soon.” Luke explained, and it all made sense. Sometimes you forget that they’re famous, talented hockey players.

“That’s great, hum—” your phone started ringing and you opened your purse to decline it, frowning when you saw Nicholas’ name flashing on the screen. He knew you were on your day off and he had never called you during days off before. So it was probably important. “Sorry, excuse me, it’s my boss.” You excused yourself before leaving the table and accepting the call.

“Madison?”

“Yeah, Nick, hi,” you walked out of the restaurant, wanting to be outside so you could hear him better, feeling the cold air hit your face immediately. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, no, nothing happened.”

“Then why are you calling me?” You giggled. “It’s my day off.”

“Oh, right,” he laughed, the high pitch noise making you smile too. “I’m calling you because we fucking did it, baby!”

“Um. What did we do?”

He scoffed like he couldn’t believe you were even asking. “What do you mean, Madison Carter! We finally signed you to La Vie en Rose!”

You audibly gasped, trying your hardest not to start jumping around.

Despite the fact that you had worked with bigger retailers before, La Vie en Rose has always been one of your and Nicholas’ biggest dreams.

“You’re lucky I’m out right now because otherwise you’d be hearing my screams there in Los Angeles,” you laughed, feeling truly happy for the first time in a while. “How did it happen? Actually, no,” you interrupted yourself. “I don’t even care about what you did. This is huge! When do I start?”

“This is where it gets better.”

“Better than working with one of my favorite designers? Try me.”

“They asked if you had any preferences for places and since you’ve been here here in LA for four years now, I thought I’d do you a favor and get you closer to your family,” he said, excitement pouring down his words. “So I said that you could get signed with their Canadian headquarters and guess what? They said yes! So now you’ll have to move to Vancouver, of course, but think with me—”

You didn’t even care about the rest of the things he was saying. The high from before disappearing like candies during Halloween, your happiness being replaced by an ugly, horrid feeling that made your stomach hurt, all the food you’d just eaten trying to find its way back outside.

“Madison? Are you there?”

“Yes,” you gritted through your teeth, taking deep breaths. “Nicholas, I can't. I cannot be in Vancouver.”

“If you’re worried about moving and your apartment and Bella, don’t worry, they’ll cover it all—”

“I’m not worried about moving, I just can’t,” your voice cracks, so you take a moment to breathe again. “I can’t be in Vancouver.”

“Madison—”

“They have their headquarters in Paris. I can move there, it’s no issue, really.” You pleaded.

“You’d rather move to Paris than to be with your family in Canada?” He sounded surprised and confused at the same time and you bit your lip, remembering your mom’s words about the press and rumors. You trusted Nicholas and you knew he wasn’t going to tell anyone anything but in the world of fashion, words flew fast. “I’m not following.”

“Yes,” you confessed. “Can you do that?”

“No, I— I already signed the deal. I thought I was doing you a favor—”

“You didn’t do me any favor, Nicholas!” You didn’t realize you were speaking louder now, raising your arm. “I’m not fucking moving to Vancouver! Fuck.”

You ran your hand through your hair, feeling bad for lashing out on him, but just the thought of living close to your family and Quinn made you lose your mind.

Nicholas sighed, speaking after an entire minute. “Listen. I don’t know where this is coming from and I’d really like to help you if you need me. But this is your dream, Madison. Ever since I met you, when you were that sweet, little dove at eighteen, you’ve been talking about this. And you know how hard we worked for this.”

“Nicholas,” you called out and he shushed you.

“And I can’t do anything about this. I’m sorry, but this is above me. I made the wrong decision of signing it without talking to you first but you were out with your family and I didn’t want to bother you.” He sighed, staying silent for a while, as you looked straight ahead, not really seeing anyone, even though the street was busy. “If you say no, it’s… they’ll choose someone else. Madison, I need you to think about this.”

You could hear the entreaty in his voice and you felt so bad. He was right.

“You need to give me an answer by Monday. I’ve already told them you’d be thrilled to move but I can always take back what I said,” he murmured, and if you knew him well enough, you’d say he’s squeezing his cheeks between his fingers right now. “It’d only be for six months, baby. Think about it.”

You were silent for a while, before realizing he was probably waiting for an answer.

“Right,” you whispered. “Okay. I’ll call you later. And I’m sorry for yelling at you, I know you were just doing what you thought was the best.”

“I’m so sorry, Mads. Totally thought I was doing you a favor.”

“It’s fine,” you answer, nodding even though you knew he couldn’t see. “Bye.”

“Bye, Mads. Call me if you need anything.”

You hadn’t even turned your phone off completely before hearing a voice behind you.

“Troubles in paradise, huh?”

You turn around, facing Quinn who was now leaning against the restaurant wall, by himself. Where were the people who worked there or the other customers you didn’t know, and truthfully, you didn’t really care at that moment.

“Excuse me?” You asked, staring at him, watching as he shrugged, like he hadn’t said anything.

“I asked if you were having troubles in your little Angeleno world, since things seem to be so perfect in Los Angeles.”

“This is the first conversation we have in years and this is how you want it to go? Seriously?” You stepped closer, standing in front of him, tilting your head up so you could stare into those beautiful eyes you’d love to lose yourself in.

No, you reprimanded yourself. Not anymore.

“I don’t know,” he looked down, his eyes meeting yours. “Remind me of why this is our first conversation in years, Madison,” again, he said your name like it hurt him.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Guys, what the hell,” someone shouted beside you, making both you and Quinn turn your heads around. Jack stood there, looking slightly displeased, while Luke typed something on his phone. “We’ve been looking for you for ages. Our parents left through the other entrance a while ago. It’s time to party, baby!”

“I’m not going,” you hissed, stepping back.

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Luke looked up from his phone, frowning at you. “Maddie. We haven’t seen each other in years!”

“I know, I’m just tired and—”

“We need to catch up!” Jack whined, wrapping his arms around your waist, shaking you slightly. “We need to talk!”

“She doesn’t like talking, do you, Madison?” Quinn blurted out, eyes turning gray when directed at you.

For some reason that one comment turned your fight or flight mode and you had enough. “You’re so funny, Quintin,” you plastered on the biggest fake smile you could. “Actually, I’m not that tired. Let’s go.”

You followed two yelling boys and a moody one, not even acknowledging the latter. If Quinn wanted to be all pissy about the fact that you hadn’t spoken to him in years, when he also hadn’t reached out to you, then fine. Two could play that game.

taglist: @ru-kru 🤎

[lindonwald]

fuck it we ball

are,,,,,hetalia OCs cool these days? haha