#Grow tf up.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Holding myself back from cussing out a new follower I have.

[butchhoods]

Nothing more irritating than some mentally ill person branding everyone else as neurotypical because they do not actually think that wallowing in your own misery is cool and quirky and funny and you never need to move away from that. Ever.

If you ever work towards recovery or if you try to find joy in the stupidest smallest things you're just an annoying neurotypical that knows nothing about the real anguish of this existence

[a5hrie7]

Dumb little Lute x Adam comic i scribbled in my free time

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[redysetdare]

Any other queer person makes a post saying "Ew straight romance" and everyone laughs and reblogs. an aro makes a post saying "Ew romance" and apparently that's suddenly way too far. How dare they be "romance negative" don't they know how personally attacked the allos feel right now? why won't they think of the allo feelings?

[bruciemilf]

Yk what I need??? NEED the batKids to just admire Bruce’s beauty ( USHSJSNSNS ur last post about Jason calling Bruce pretty just added fuel to the fire )

Love ur blog :)!!!

Thank you! And that’s so adorable! I just adore the image of Bruce, wide awake at 3 in the morning, applying concealer all over the swollen bruises acquired tonight.

The brush is thick and fluffy, designed to spread a generous amount while maintaining a smooth application, its bristles silver and pale. Dick thinks it belonged to Bruce’s mom, because he looks terribly sad using it.

“You should be asleep, “ Bruce sighs, not entirely delighted his ward is losing precious resting time. He’s read, clearly, that children need a minimal 8 hours of sleep.

“So should you! What are you doing up?”

“Getting ready for a meeting at 7.”

“You’re like, really pretty.”

Bruce pauses, skin blossoming with sudden, flustered heat, “Oh, thank you, Dickie, that’s very kind—“

Dick’s smile beams like moonlight, “So you agree. You think you’re really pretty.”

“…I haven’t watched a single movie in 12 years, so, I think that joke is wasted.”

“Dammit. Thanks a lot, trauma.”

Oh, but Jason? The tiny boy could watch Bruce for hours. His face is so interesting. B’s eyelashes are so long, and his eyes are such a pretty hazel, just like Catherine’s, and his smile is awesome.

He feels really special, because Bruce smiles for no camera, but when Jason asks him to take his picture, he does it without complaint.

“B, boys can be pretty too, right?”

Bruce pauses a bit, not entirely confident. Should he treat this as something casual? Should he break out the educational, but welcoming dialogue? Is it something else? Why aren’t there parenting classes?

“Hn. Yeah.”

“I think you’re the prettiest man in Gotham!”

“I’m afraid that’s not true, Jason.”

“What?! How come?!”

“Because the prettiest boy in Gotham is standing right in front of me.”

Tiny Jason squeaking and squealing joyfully while Bruce takes him in his arms, peppering his soft cheeks with kisses, while a teenage Dick rolls his eyes in the background, trying not to smile.

[absoluteminimum]

they're getting ready for the day

[senseearly]

One thing that I always think about post-dungeon recovery Mithrun who got home is that people were probably used to talking about him while he was still in the room.

Misiril's squad used to that when he was still in their care. Questions towards him were quickly redirected to others when he wouldn't (couldn't) answer their questions -- where was the rest of his squad? what happened to the demon? how did he even end up like this? Asking or talking to Mithrun is a pointless effort. So they stopped doing that.

And Mithrun, he's gotten used to this set-up, not like he could bring himself to care.

When his caretakers and visiting family started doing it, he continued to be apathetic to them (although, the numbness from this large, gaping hole in his chest makes him think that he used to care).

The caretakers would do their duties, but behind his back, they would probably gossip about Mithrun's chances of recovery. Others think there is still hope, a lot of them think this is going to be permanent. Which is good, at least to their business, because Mithrun's brother pays a lot to make sure he is alive. And Mithrun...is not in the state to do that himself. They at least try to whisper when they're around Mithrun, keep their voices low or mention him under an alias or a codename. But Mithrun knows they are talking about him. He is the elephant in the room.

His visiting family is less nice. They take one look at him and weep -- not out of worry, or pity, or sadness -- but of shame. There is no way they can show him to others anymore, they bemoan. There is no way he can represent himself as a member of the House of Kerensil, they cry. He's just like his brother! And, once upon a time, that comment would've hurt Mithrun, a stab right into his heart. But all he feels is a gaping numbness that cannot be filled (It used to be full, he can't help but think).

I wish he had died, someone from his family said while he was within earshot. And Mithrun, barely alive but still breathing, cannot bring himself to care.

The only person that I think would be delighted to see him alive, at least, is his brother. I can see him visiting Mithrun whenever he can (at least in elf time terms). Talking to him as if he can respond, asking him about things when Mithrun can't bring himself to answer. At some point, Mithrun's brother stopped talking to him when he visits; instead, he would just sit next to Mithrun and watch the birds and the flowers. He would drink tea and Mithrun would do nothing.

But once in a while, Mithrun's brother would tell him, I'm glad you came home, I'm glad you're still alive.

[mashedmangos]

Back at it again with the duck lives au

[chronicdisasterwrites]

you touched my hair and i almost passed out

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre + warnings: - SUPER FLUFF !!! jealousy, pining, kissing, megumi being a fantastic lil' wingman, swearing, a lil s2 spoiler.

word count: 2,750

summary: PART 3 of the gojo series !!! satoru is flustered, reader is dense af, she touches his hair and he almost dies.

enjoy this mess lmfao

“You’re pathetic.”

“Excuse me?” 

Megumi looks uninterested and downright disappointed as he glares at his teacher. Whereas, Gojo Satoru looks bewildered as to what he might've done to make his student extra bitter today. He always finds a way to piss Megumi off; even sometimes just by breathing too loudly.

Megumi rolls his eyes and sighs as he goes back to reading his book. Satoru crosses his arms across his chest as he leans back on his chair and crosses his legs. He waits for Megumi to explain himself, only to be answered with pure silence and an overwhelming aura of pity. 

Satoru pouts and scoffs, “Seriously?”

Megumi simply takes a sip of his ginger tea as he looks at Satoru with his usual look of pure disdain. He clenches his jaw as he looks as if he's waiting for Satoru to figure it out already, but to everyone else around them, it simply looks like they’re in the middle of a serious staring competition. 

“Your pining. It's pathetic.”

Satoru’s jaw drops and he quickly closes it and leans forward, putting his arms on the table, and staring intently at Megumi through his sunglasses. Megumi is unfazed.

“I am not pining. I am simply observing.”

Megumi raises a single brow and looks back to where you were standing and conversing with some guy. You've been talking to him for quite a while now and Satoru has been hopelessly staring since you left the table you three were seated at. Megumi turns back to look at Satoru and scoffs, “Yeah. Sure you are.”

This time Satoru does nothing to hide his gaping jaw. He lets out a humorless laugh and slaps his hand on the table,

“No no seriously, I don't care if she talks with some guy. I mean, it's totally cool. Some random guy shows up outta nowhere and sweeps her off her feet whereas I have been here all this time giving her very obvious signs all of which she'll just blatantly ignore, so yeah yeah it's totally cool.” Satoru leans back and crosses his arms across his chest, all while his face is burning red and Megumi almost sees smoke come out of his ears. 

Megumi’s eyes are wide with concern. Mainly because people around them heard Satoru’s little monologue and are now muttering amongst themselves and some even snickering. Megumi could die from the embarrassment. He always knew his teacher and guardian had a very obvious thing for his other teacher and sort of guardian. You were pretty much always around since Megumi and Tsumiki started living with Satoru. Or more, near Satoru, because there’s no way anyone could make Megumi stay in the same apartment as Gojo Satoru. So he and Tsumiki stay in the apartment right next to Satoru’s. And according to Megumi, you were a saint for tolerating Satoru’s ridiculous antics for so long. But Megumi’s observant. He sees through people, and he could see very well how much you both liked each other. In fact, it was sort of endearing at first; watching the two of you do small things for each other, give each other fleeting glances and hidden smiles, ghosting touches on each other's skin. But now, it's just plain annoying. The unreleased tension is killing Megumi and the boy is only 13. He shouldn't even know what this tension is. That's how obvious you and Satoru were. And Megumi had had enough of this ridiculous pining.

Sighing, Megumi crosses his arms across his chest and furrows his brows, staring intently at his guardian, “Just be a grown-up and tell her.”

Satoru scoffs, “Tell her what? That I obviously don't like her? Sure thing.”

Slapping a palm on his face, Megumi wishes he could slap the immature adult sitting across from him instead. Before he lets his intrusive thoughts win, you walk over and place a bag on the table, right in front of Megumi and Satoru. They both look at you with quirked eyebrows and you smile, thinking how strange it is that they both look so similar.

“This is for you. Call it a ‘first day as a teacher’ gift,” You look at Satoru with that dazzling smile and Satoru feels his resolve dwindling. Curses, he thinks. He skeptically peeks into the bag and sees a black box wrapped with a ribbon. Looking back at you through his glasses, he raises a silvery brow, “Did your little friend give this to you?”

Your smile drops and morphs into a perplexed look,

“What, Haru? No- wha- I bought this for you.”

“Ah, so he has a name. Didn't ask but okay,” Satoru huffs and you see the muscle in his jaw twitch. You cross your arms and stare down at him with extremely confused eyes, “What’s your problem?”

Satoru sighs, places a couple of notes on the table as he stands, and takes the bag, “Nothing. Forget it.” He walks away, you presume to the car, without another word. You look at Megumi and see that he's already looking at you with expectant eyes. You shrug and point your thumb at the obviously pissed-off man, “What’s with him?”

Megumi stands, tight-lipped, “He’s being a child because he’s scared of his feelings.” 

You're absolutely bewildered now. Feelings? What feelings? What did I even do? Wait- Is he jealous? No way. 

You think Megumi can see into your mind as he raises his eyebrows and looks at you, hoping you'd crack the code. When you simply stare with a slack jaw he sighs, “Talk to him, please.”

He follows his guardian and you stand there wondering what the hell was going on. 

—-

Satoru enters his apartment with a heavy heart. It's ridiculous to act like this, he knows that. You don't deserve his attitude just because he is incapable of expressing himself like a normal human being. All these years, he's loved you. As a friend first, then at one point, it exceeded that, and now he can't imagine his life without you. It's suffocating and he just cannot bring himself to tell you. He wants to, but then his mind fills with thoughts that keep him up at night and rob him of the little sleep he tries to get. What if you freak out and refuse to even be friends anymore? What if you run away? What if you say you feel the same way and then you end up breaking up? I don't deserve you. You can have someone normal, with a normal life, and a normal past. What if I can't make you happy? What if someone targets you because of me? What if I can't protect you? What if I lose you? 

Satoru sighs as he removes his glasses and puts them on the empty dining table, in the empty room, in his empty apartment. He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales. I should apologize, he thinks. He will, but first, he'll open the gift. He takes out the black box and takes off the ribbon, opening the lid. His eyes soften as he lifts the long, midnight-blue blindfold. He smiles to himself. You remembered. He remembers years ago he told you he would start wearing a blindfold since glasses stopped being effective enough for his Six Eyes. He remembers telling you the glasses were hurting the bridge of his nose so a blindfold would be the best option, but he was too picky and couldn't find the perfect blindfold for his “perfect” eyes. He couldn't believe you remembered, considering your reaction when he told you this minuscule information was a simple, “Okay, you do you.”

He takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling. I'll tell her. 

—-

“Hey, you busy?”

You jerk from the sudden voice as you turn around to see Gojo Satoru standing in your living room, uninvited. You breathe heavily as you relax your clenched hand that effectively ruined the report you were working on before getting so brazenly startled. 

“What the hell, Satoru?”

Satoru smiles sheepishly as he scratches the back of his head. He holds up the blindfold and says, “Thanks for this. I didn't think you'd remember.”

You sigh and turn back to continue working on your report, “Of course I remembered, Satoru.”

His heart is pounding and he can't remember ever feeling like this. He feels like a child with a crush and he doesn't know what to do. Just say it. For fuck’s sake, just say it. 

“Will you cut my hair?”

There's an uncomfortable silence filling the room and Satoru wants to teleport away and hope you'll forget this encounter. You slowly turn back to look at him with wide eyes. Satoru feels his face warm up. 

You blink, “You want me to cut your hair?”

Satoru gulps and decides to roll with it, “Yeah, I mean- my hair won't look nice with a blindfold the way it is. It'll just fall off. So I guess- y’know- gimme an undercut or something, maybe?” He looks everywhere but your eyes and continues fiddling with his hair. He's so adorable, you can't help but think.

You laugh and fully turn around on your chair to face him, “I can't believe you'll let me touch your precious hair.”

Finally looking at you, Satoru feels himself fall even more in love with you. Your effortless smile after the way he treated you earlier that day made him feel like absolute shit. But that smile; he'd die twice for that smile and then come back to life just to see it again. 

He smiles and shrugs, “Yeah. I trust you, so why not?” 

You grin and walk towards him. Bringing your hand up to assess his hair, you purse your lips, “Alright, I’ll cut your hair.”

—-

I can't do this. This is too much. She smells so good. Her hands are so soft. Fuck, this was a mistake. Killing Toji was easier than this shit.

Satoru was sweating and his brain was about to implode. You sat him down in your bathroom filled with everything you need to cut his hair perfectly. You were excited, as a child would be after getting an entire bar of chocolate for themselves or a cool pair of shoes. Little did you know, Satoru was freaking out. This wasn't even the closest he had been to you. He kissed you on the forehead, he had touched your chest. Albeit innocent, he knows that if he wasn't having a panic attack he would've short-circuited right then and there. And you didn't see him lean against the wall to control his breathing right as he turned the corner after kissing you on the forehead, after you almost died. He had been loving you for so long, that he wondered how dumb you could be sometimes despite being one of the smartest people he knows. But now, you're too close, your face inches from his as you check the length of his bangs. His eyes are locked on his clasped hands lying on his lap as you snip away. 

As you move behind him and turn on the trimmer, he finally releases the breath he had been holding. The cold steel of the trimmer touches his neck and shivers run up his entire body. You watch goosebumps form on his skin near his nape and ask, “You alright? Are my hands too cold?”

“No no, I'm good. Perfect, actually.” Satoru slaps himself mentally for being so painfully obvious. Then he remembers he was supposed to confess anyway. You mutter a small “okay” and get right back to working the trimmer on the underside of his hair. Taking the bottle, you spritz some water on his hair and comb through it with your little brush. Your hands run through his hair and Satoru feels he might just pass out. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and tries to control his racing heart. The sound of the scissors cutting more of his silvery white hair brings his head down from the clouds. The soft touch of your fingers against his neck just sends his head into overdrive again. Your hands fluff his hair as you move in front of him again to check your work. You look into his eyes and Satoru can't help himself anymore. 

“I love you.”

The way your eyes widen and shoulders drop almost breaks Satoru’s delicate heart. You open your mouth but Satoru beats you to it. He stands up and starts rambling,

“You don't have to say anything. I just- I love you and I had to tell you, I just couldn't keep it in anymore. I understand if you don't feel the same and you don't have to, It's okay, just please don't freak out and stop being my friend or something.”

You keep staring at him and he thinks this is it. The end of it all. Almost a decade-long friendship; thrown down the drain. He says your name and looks at you with the softest eyes you've ever seen in your life.

“C’mon say something. Anything. “Get out”, “Shut up”, something, anyth-”

“I love you too.”

Satoru stands still, mid-sentence, gaping like a fish out of water, “Huh?”

You snort and cover your face with your hands, shoulders shaking with laughter, “I said, I love you too.”

Satoru exhales deeply and leans down to rest his hands on his knees. He looks up at you, still laughing, and asks, “Why on Earth are you laughing?”

You chortle and look at him with gleaming eyes and the brightest smile he thinks he's ever seen, “You just look so ridiculous.” 

Satoru looks at the mirror and mentally facepalms at his appearance. A giant plastic bag wrapped around his upper body and half-wet hair making him look like a wet rat. Yeah, he did look ridiculous. He shakes his head and laughs. Moving closer to you he slowly places his hand on your cheek. He looks at the fully healed scar and leans down to kiss it gently. Resting his forehead on yours, he breathes, “I love you.” He then leaves an even gentler kiss on the tip of your nose, “So, so much.”

He's gazing into your eyes and you're gazing into his, with the same look you've always given him, which makes him think out loud, “How long have you…?”

You sigh as you close your eyes and bring up your hand to touch his wrist near your face, feeling his pulse. You release a short laugh, “Long enough.”

Satoru smiles and brings his other hand to caress your other cheek, “Can I kiss you? Please?”

You smile and loop your arms around his neck, “Yes, please do.”

He leans down as you lean up and you can feel his smile against your lips. His large hands on your face, his lips against yours, his breath in your lungs, all you can think is Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. The kiss is slow, like you're both memorizing each other's taste. Like you're fully immersing yourselves in this experience as if it's the last time you'll ever be able to do this. You never thought you'd have this, but now you do. He loves you. Your hands stroke his undercut, feeling the freshly cut hair on your skin as your hand moves up to brush against the longer strands on top. 

His hands are holding onto your face as if he's afraid you'll slip away if he lets go for even a second. Then he feels you caress the back of his head and he lets one of his hands travel down to wrap itself around your waist. This is real, he thinks and he can't believe it. You love him. His lips move against yours in a perfect rhythm, as if you've been kissing each other for years. It's comfortable, safe, familiar.

Finally stopping, you both breathe heavily with the dopiest grins on your faces. Beaming, Satoru wraps his arms around your waist and hugs you, clutching your head to his chest. You let out a breath, getting lost in the rhythm of his heartbeat. The vibrations from his laughter cause you to look up at him with a questioning look on your face.

He shakes his head and brings a hand up to gently rest your head back on his chest. Perching his chin on top of your head, he strokes your hair.

“Megumi will have a field day when he hears about this.”

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

a/n: okkkk finally the morons confess! also I added a guy called haru bc i love haruka from free! and i could, so yay.

taglist: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite, @mariapierce789

[darkside-0f-the-sun]

i js wanna rant for a sec but bitches saying shit about how smut shouldn’t be on tumblr and how it not a por website is so stupid like i’ll say it one and i’ll say it again it’s TUMBLR what more can you expect??? there’s smut and people talking about their sexual fantasies in literally every single fucking fandom like trust me i’ve been in a few different fandoms and every single one i’ve been in there’s always been smut, there has always been talking about sexual fantasies it’s literally js how tumblr is and if you don’t like it then we do not care grow tf up and block the accounts if it rly bothers you that much. go to like pinterest or something js leave smut writers and innocent people alone bro no one cares

anyways i’d let bill do whatever he wanted to me😍😛😘😉😜

[gonky-kong]

Hunter's going to get Omega and Crosshair back and after she says smth snarky he'll look at Crosshair like what did you do

[shitswiftiessay]

tear-the-bitch-apart.png

[redysetdare]

Some of you will see a character that is actively repulsed by romance/sex and heavily non-partner coded (sometimes they even actively just say that they do not want a relationship!) and y'all will still respond with "But aros/aces can still date and have sex!!" like okay bud it'd be so much easier for you to say you don't respect repulsed and non-partnering aros and aces. stop beating around the bush trying to pretend to be oh so supportive when you obviously feel uncomfortable about our existence even in fiction.

[asgardswinter]

Being in the cod fandom is like being surrounded by idiots bc they be like:

Cod stans: whY dO PeOplE ShIp GhOstKonIg???1? They r enemies!!!1’

*Cod stans at the same time shipping ghoap and pricegaz even though itd be against military rules because its insubordination*

Like ??? Yall r not very bright.

You can just say you dont like the ship without coming up with dumb reasons to not like it. Bc at the same time yall r legit bullying people for creating ghostkonig renders, fanfic and fanart. Wtf kind of fandom does this???

Somehow all of you have forgotten that enemies to lovers exist. that WRITING a story revolving around enemies exist!!! Like have u forgotten tropes???

I dont understand why ppl have joined this fandom thinking everything has to be realistic just bc its military but at the same time ship ghoap. ??

[unicoreads]

The fact that there are people out there saying GRRM should shut up about HIS opinion on HIS story, when they always seem to give us their opinions even though we never asked is INFUCKINGSANE!! 💀

First y’all try arguing with the man who CREATED this work of FICTION. Trying to make him wrong about HIS OWN SHIT because YOU can’t handle being wrong or not having your OPINION be right & embraced by the masses is mental 😭

Now y’all are saying my guy George should just stfu & keep his opinion to himself……. Babe I’m going to hold your hand when I said this, take your own advice -We the people would greatly appreciate it 🙂

Also to say he was “unprofessional” when he really wasn’t is the most diabolical way to dick ride Ryan & Sara (who treat us like fucking idiots, let’s be real their writing is so bad & some y’all just eat it up with no complaints like the simpletons they think we are🫤) GRRM could’ve talked shit before the season came out or as it was coming out, that would be unprofessional. Instead he waited till the season was over & it marinated with us all, him included, before stating his thoughts. Y’all love to share y’all thoughts but hate whenever somebody who thinks differently than you says something…..🤨

Another thing PLEASE stop fucking saying he needs to go write the next books, or that he’s doing everything but writing the next books. He doesn’t owe y’all shit, especially after seeing the way y’all are acting right now at this very moment. Just a bunch of ungrateful miserable assholes who love spreading hate onto others 🤦‍♀️ If that man decides to never release those books it HIS RIGHT!!! Being an author and writer is not easy. Writing a book is not easy!! If you think it is, then how about you go & do it 🤔

Go on, wander over to a computer and write a best selling SERIES.