#quit wasting your time trying to get their validation

[retiredteabag]

That’s all it takes?

Synopsis: you’ve worked alongside Gojo Satoru for years; he’s painfully arrogant, critical about everything, and infuriatingly competent at his job. Worst of all, he’s just as striking as everyone thinks. For once, someone looks your way, why is it he cares so much?

tags: lowkey enemies/rivals to lovers, reader has a thing for being praised, journalist au, unedited (sorry :P)

pt. 1?

my masterlist

You'd thought the intern was trying to get a good word out of you at first. It wasn't uncommon for aspiring journalists to do whatever they could to get their foot in the door of such a competitive industry. The fact that he had been accepted onto the office floor seemingly was not enough for him. Hey, you could appreciate a handworker.

The clicking of the keyboard directly before you could only be overshadowed by the usual smacking of gum from the editor who was absent today. Her vacant desk oddly quiet. You flipped through your notebook and added even more sticky notes to your monitor, reminders of all the tasks to complete this week.

You were just about as type A as a person could be, everything was done on time, and done well. You had made something of a name for yourself and the validation kept you going. You devoured praise like it was the only thing sustaining you. That was the type of attitude that landed you positions in the greatest opinion piece publisher in Japan.

You weren't the only one who was overly competitive; however, no, someone else had become well-known even beyond his article acclaim.

The sweet little interns watched that man now like hawks. The moment his boisterous presence entered the open floor of the office cubicles, eyes followed him with an anxious reverence reserved only for the brain behind the words so many bore witness to.

Satoru Gojo was a well-known creature, even outside of journalism, the press, and the news.

Today, of course, he was in one of those moods. He sauntered into the room with a casual arrogance of someone who knew full well that the earth continued to rotate because he demanded it to be so.

The meeting he had just left was running late, his afternoon had been disrupted and the chaos he had yet to dispel was surely about to be unleashed on some unsuspecting intern.

"I've worked here far too long for superiors to still be unable to summarize a damn meetinggg~" Gojo hummed around a mouthful of croissant he had stolen from the client table. The editor that typically sat beside you would have flinched at Gojo's current gesticulation mid-rant.

You missed the peace she brought you when Gojo came around. Crumbs fell as the man licked his fingers. "Wasting my time like that, someone's gotta let them go."

You spun in your chair, looking back to see if Yaga, the company's publishing editor-in-chief, the very man Satoru Gojo was badmouthing over a sip of smoothie, was hearing his insults.

You didn't even blink when the very 'superior' exited from the conference room, waving Gojo off. The interns seemed even more worried. "The office doesn't revolve around your snacking schedule, Gojo. If you want perfect synchronicity, you might as well quit."

The apprentices looked between each other and you smiled them off, silently telling them to get back to researching the projects they were supposed to be putting together.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Satoru squinted, judging your very existence with his gaze.

He sighed theatrically, lounging himself across an open swivel chair of the empty editors cubical as if sitting through an assembly was the greatest waste of his precious- "They should know how important my time is-"

You roll your eyes, cutting him off, "Oh yes, so terribly important that you're spending it eating and bitching to me."

If you were being wholly honest, the shareholders in that meeting should be grateful. You'd never say it aloud, but Satoru Gojo wasn't just a writer. He was a cultural phenomenon. In his early twenties, he had already been revered for his reporting and interviewing skills, his name had graced more publications post-grad than you had even after building your portfolio.

His rate per word was outrageous as well as his schedule: a true nightmare. The Tokyo Times was beyond lucky to have been able to keep him on the team for as long as they had.

He sighed, rolling his eyes, the drama queen. He reached across you, stealing one of your pens and spinning it around amidst his fingers. "'The only reason I haven't jumped ship is because it brings me." He glided out of the chair and leaned against your cubicle, sliding the pen along the decor you had there, observing it, "so much pleasure", you wince at his seductive tone, "to bring you…annoyance." You smack his hand before he can poke the fat of your cheek with the writing utensil.

Satoru grins, spinning away with your pen, scraping up a donut before making the way back to his office. His very own, if you were curious.

One of the trainees from earlier was watching this interaction. He had a look of shock on his face as if he couldn't imagine someone smacking The Satoru Gojo.

You'd like to imagine he just couldn't fathom such a well-revered writer being so immature, but alas, that was less likely.

If it was possible for someone to be more critical than yourself when it came to work, it was Satoru. He had this sadistic urge in him that made it impossible to not call out the mistakes of others. It stung. That was the truth, but you would rather he tell you his thoughts then lie to your face and laugh behind your back.

Working with him was more of a challenge than a motivation most days. The salary was a great motivation, though. Yaga and his team paid you well. More than that though, was the rage to outlive that white haired tantrum of a man.

You could see it in the way he smirked at you, in the way his eyes found yours when you would slip up, the way he never seemed to take you seriously. This might just be the worst aspect of your personality; you just couldn't help but want to impress people, even if they didn't respect you.

"He seems like fun to work alongside." One of the interns had left the side of his fellow novices. Making small talk, telling a joke.

You shrug at the young man, "Most can't tolerate him for longer than a fiscal quarter. I hope you have what it takes."

He looked down at his shoes suddenly, "Me too."

He was tall, or taller than you at least, sweet, and earnest. He dressed up for every day at the office, he was never late, and he greeted every employee by name - to put it simply, he made a good impression. You turn your chair to him, "How are you liking your internship, is it the experience you hoped for?"

He smiled again, and his eyes practically twinkled. "I'm very grateful for the experience, I'll continue to work hard."

"I have no doubt." You nodded encouragingly at him and turned to face the screen before you. You figured he would move onto his fellows, go work on his project maybe, but he stayed standing there for a moment too long.

He heaved a breath as if steeling himself to say something risky. "Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you."

He looked suddenly shy, "I've read a lot of your stuff, you've been a real inspiration to me, and being able to work here has been-"

You know where this is going, you give him an understanding nod. Reading off the name on his chest, you lean in conspiratorially, whispering "I'm sorry, I won't be able to sway the decisions on who gets offered jobs after your program is up. But you're a hard worker, I'm sure y-"

He startles suddenly, waving his hands frantically, "No! Oh, no, no, I'm not... asking for anything like that... I'm sorry I came off that way, I was just... well," He swallows, and you attempt to track his eyes as they wander, confused about what he could possibly want from you.

"I just... I admire you a lot. You're bright, and...you're beautiful...and I was actually wondering if I could buy you a meal sometime?" He sounded so unsure of himself but he was standing up straight, breathing through his nose.

You weren't sure what to say. You knew you weren't unattractive but to be completely frank, people didn't ask you out. You chalked it up to being intimidating or perpetually busy, or a control freak. Whatever the cause, you were not accustomed to people liking you in that way.

You flush.

"Oh..." You had to replay his words over and over again. Your mouth opened and closed, and you tried to weigh what he was asking. He was cute, but also… he was an intern at the company you worked for.

Before you could even formulate a response, you were jerked back to reality when the gentleman who had just so adamantly confessed his feelings made an "aagh!" noise.

Yaga was tugging him by the ear. "You, young man, better get back to work before I deduct points from your final presentation for fraternization."

He looked overcome with embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck while apologies spilled from his mouth. Yaga flicked him gently before he could bow anymore and rolled his eyes your way.

Dumbstruck, you stared at the screen of your computer for a long while. A dozen tabs were open, your task bar was still full of items you needed to get to today, even so, you found yourself cupping your cheeks, feeling the blood that had pooled there.

"Please don't tell me that was your type."

You're not sure when he appeared, but Gojo Satoru was staring at you with discernment. He had a judgmental eyebrow raised and he was tongue-ing at his cheek.

"Jesus." You huff, stretching your jaw, trying to brush off the flush you felt atop your ears. "What on earth are you doing?"

You made a brave attempt to type something onto a notation sheet. Dispelling the embarrassment that came with someone actually liking you.

"What am I doing? Look at yourself, you're all sheepish over some kid hitting on you."

You choke, "He's not a kid! He's graduated."

Satoru squints at you now, moving even closer. "Oh my gosh," he pulls a 'I'm-grossed-out-by-you-but-intrigued-all-the-same' face and continues, "are you actually into younger guys?"

"No!" You pant, your hands spread. He wasn't even that much younger than you, but being pressed about anything romantic, especially from Gojo was embarrassing.

"What's with this face you're pulling then?" He tapped the pen he had so rudely stolen earlier atop the wall of your cubicle, "I've never seen you all-" he fake gags, "-shy like this."

You huff, trying to find the words. "I'm-" you scoff, trying again, "not all of us are so used to...that sort of thing."

He straightens up suddenly, pulling his lips together, "Are you saying like... being flirted with?" He chuckles at the idea and you grit your teeth.

Breathing in, you try to laugh, trying to sound nonchalant, but it comes out annoyed. "Yes, Gojo, not everyone has people falling at their feet all the time."

Have I mentioned that Satoru, on top of being an incredibly talented creative, was a painfully striking individual to look at? Well, sure, he was very symmetrical. And tall. And he had...nice teeth. Veins too. It’s fair to say he wasn't lacking when it came to attention.

"So...you like him then." Somehow, he seemed offended at the idea.

"No, not necessarily." Was he trying to insinuate you were some kind of creep? He couldn't have been more than two years your junior. "But he was nice..."

"Nice?" Satoru wheezed. You didn't move. This whole interaction was ticking you off. Gojo's guffaws continued until he noticed you were just silently staring at him. "Are you serious?" He wiped a faux tear.

Why this was so upsetting for you, you couldn't quite place. "Yes, Gojo." You had a bit of an insulted tone to your voice, you wondered why he didn't seem to care about wasting his precious time with you suddenly.

"What... that's all it takes with you?"

Gears began to turn in Satorus' brain as he observed you now, taking in the new information.

"Normal people like niceness, Satoru, crazy, I know." You refuse to meet his gaze but he stands infuriatingly still, arms crossed, before his head canters to the side as if considering the concept for the first time.

"hmm..."

He shifts on his feet. You grow more tense by the second, waiting for his next snide comment. He clicks the pen a few times before slowly, setting it back on your desk. And then he was finally gone.

[marscardigan]

wish you were sober

ellie williams x fem!reader

main masterlist

summary: ellie was done with helping you with your problems. but even if she was, she couldn't help to choose you over and over again.

word count: 3.8k

cw: based off of the songs wish you were sober, memories and the cut that always bleeds by conan gray. no use of y/n. drinking.

It was supposed to be the party of the year.

At least, that’s what you kept telling Ellie to drag her out of her room and join you. And it worked—well, sort of. Because now, here she was, standing near the bar, sipping on some ridiculously overpriced cocktail.

The truth is she didn’t want to be here. She was exhausted, the music was too loud, the crowd too suffocating. But you didn’t seem to notice her irritation. Maybe because you were too drunk to see it.

Her green eyes never left your figure. Across the room, you were surrounded by a group of strangers, laughing too loud, swaying like you were about to fall. But you didn’t seem to care. You were too caught up in the moment, too busy drowning in the attention of people who didn’t even know you. Some guy leaned in closer, fingers brushing lazily against your arm, clearly hoping for something more. But you barely acknowledged him, too wrapped up in the drunken blur.

Ellie hated this. Hated watching you pretend this was fun, hated how you sought validation from anyone who’d offer it. Her grip tightened around her glass as she watched, heart hammering, frustration boiling over. That was enough.

She pushed through the crowd, and by the time she reached you, she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers wrapped swiftly around your wrist, voice sharp with impatience. "Alright, rockstar. We’re leaving. Now."

You pouted, trying to make up some excuse, but your dizzyness didn't let you make a single coherent thought. And then, the guy showed up again.

"Hey, doll, is this dyke bothering you?"

Your pout vanished. Without hesitation, you struck him across the cheek. "Watch that nasty mouth, you asshole!"

Before he could even recover, Ellie was already dragging you through the crowd, gripping your wrist tight, her only thought to get you the hell out of there. The moment she pushed through the front door and into the night air, she exhaled sharply, guiding you toward her Jeep.

But you had other plans. You stumbled, resisting her grip, turning toward her with an intoxicated smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "C’mon, El. One more drink?"

She scoffed, "You can barely stand."

"So?" You leaned in, the scent of alcohol clinging to your breath. It made her sick. "You’re cute when you’re all mad at me."

Ellie’s jaw tightened. "I’m not playing this game with you."

You giggled, head tilting. "What game?"

"This," she snapped, motioning between you two. "You getting wasted, making me chase after you, acting like none of this matters when—" She stopped herself, lips pressing into a thin line. When it does. When you do.

You swayed on your feet, the pout returning. "Ellie…"

She sighed, shaking her head. "Just get in the car." And for once, you listened.

The drive home was completely and utterly silent, the only sounds were the faint hum of the engine. The city lights streaked past in a blur, neon smudging against the glass, but you weren’t paying attention to any of it. You just kept glancing at her. She was mad. She had every right to be.

But right now, all you could focus on was how pretty she looked, lips slightly parted, brows furrowed in frustration. How even angry, even exhausted, she was still Ellie.

The car slowed as she pulled up to your place. "Alright. You’re home," she muttered.

You didn’t move. Didn't even try to leave.

Ellie turned to look at you, sighing when she saw the way you were staring at her, dazed and drunk and something else entirely. "Come on, let’s get you inside."

But instead of fumbling for the door handle, you reached for her. Your fingers curled around her leather jacket, tugging her closer before she could react. And then—you kissed her, desperately.

She gasped against your mouth, surprised but not pulling away. Because despite everything, she chose to be selfish for a second, and kissed you back.

Her hands found your flushed cheeks, tugging you closer as your lips moved in sync, soft and desperate, like this was something you'd both been aching for. And maybe you had been. Maybe you always had.

But then, Ellie’s hands tensed. She pulled back, breathless, blinking like she’d just realized what was happening.

"Fuck," she whispered, her lips swollen.

You tried to chase after her mouth again, hands sliding up her chest, but Ellie caught your wrists, stopping you before you could deepen it.

"Hey, stop," she said, voice firm.

You pouted, brows furrowing, but she didn’t let go. "You're drunk," she stated, like she needed to remind herself just as much as she needed to remind you.

"So?" Your voice was slurred, teasing, but Ellie wasn’t smiling.

"So, I’m not gonna let you do this," she snapped, shaking her head. "I’m not gonna be some fucking mistake you regret in the morning."

"Ellie," you mumbled, reaching for her again, but she pulled away completely this time, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

"You don’t even get it, do you?" she said, laughing bitterly. "You’re too wasted to even realize what you’re doing to me."

You frowned, confused. Ellie clenched her jaw. "I’m not gonna let you kiss me like that just because you’re drunk and looking for something to hold onto."

Silence. You just stared at her, swaying slightly in your seat, the alcohol making everything too slow, too blurry. Ellie exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Just—go inside. Sleep it off."

She didn’t wait for a response. The moment you fumbled your way out of the car, she was gone.

The next morning was hell for both of you. On one side, Ellie barely slept. She had gone home after dropping you off, heart still racing, hands shaking as she paced her room, trying to make sense of everything. Of the way you kissed her like you meant it. Of how she let herself fall into it, let herself believe that —for just a second—you wanted her the way she did.

And then she remembered. You were drunk. So drunk you could barely stand. So drunk you probably didn’t even know what you were doing. So drunk that you might not even remember it. The thought alone made something in her chest twist painfully.

She had spent the night lying awake, staring at her ceiling, eyes burning from holding back tears that eventually spilled over anyway. By the time morning came, she was exhausted, her mind still replaying the kiss over and over and over again like some cruel joke.

When there was a knock at her door, Ellie almost ignored it. But then she heard your voice. Small. Wrecked. "El?" Her stomach dropped.

But then she heard it. A quiet, choked-off sob. Ellie cursed under her breath and yanked the door open. And there you were. You looked awful.

Your hair was a mess, your clothes were wrinkled, and your eyes—fuck, your eyes were red-rimmed and glossy, tears already streaking down your cheeks. You were still in last night’s clothes, your makeup smudged, your body trembling from either the cold or the hangover or something else entirely.

Ellie’s chest ached just looking at you.

"Jesus," she muttered, stepping aside. "Come in."

You didn’t hesitate, and Ellie shut the door behind you. "You look like shit."

"Feel like it, too."

You sat on the edge of her bed, sniffling. "Ellie, I—" Your voice cracked, and you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Ellie sat in the chair by her desk, keeping space between you. She didn’t trust herself to be too close right now.

"You what?" she asked, voice hoarse.

You sniffled again, looking down at your hands. But you didn't finish the sentence. You didn't look up at her. Ellie inhaled sharply. What if you didn’t even remember the kiss?

She shifted in her chair. "Do you… do you remember what happened?"

Your brows furrowed, your head tilting slightly. But then something snapped in realization, your eyes wide. "I kissed you."

Ellie exhaled sharply, like the words had physically struck her. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Yeah, you did."

You swallowed, looking down again, fingers digging into your palms. "Ellie, I—"

But Ellie wasn’t sure she could hear whatever you were about to say next. "Don’t," she cut in, shaking her head. "Don’t you dare to say something just because you feel bad."

Your head snapped up. "That’s not—"

"You were drunk, okay?" Ellie’s voice cracked, her walls finally breaking, all of last night’s emotions crashing over her at once. "You were drunk, and I can’t—I can’t be the person you run to when you’re falling apart just to forget about it the next day."

Tears slipped down your cheeks again. "That’s not what I—"

"Then what is it?" she demanded, eyes burning, "because you don’t get to do that to me. You don’t get to kiss me like that and act like it didn’t mean anything."

Instead of saying something, you broke down crying in front of her, gasping for air. And Ellie just watched you crumble. Her red-rimmed eyes flashed with something close to fury. "No. You don't get to kiss me like that, to touch me like that, making me feel like you actually wanted me. And then just… walking away from it."

Your stomach twisted painfully. "It wasn’t nothing!"

Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. "Then what was it, huh? Tell me, because I’m done guessing."

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. The words got stuck in your throat. Ellie’s jaw tightened. "That’s what I thought."

"El, please—"

"I can’t do this anymore." She let out a shaky exhale, looking away.

Your vision blurred with fresh tears. "Do what?"

"Be the person you run to when everything else falls apart," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

"That’s not true," you croaked, chest aching.

"But you can’t even say it back," Ellie whispered, now crying too.

Silence hung heavy between you. And that was it. That was the moment it all fell apart. Ellie inhaled sharply, wiping at her tired, swollen eyes before turning toward the door. "Go home."

"Ellie—"

"Go."

You wanted to say something, to fix it, to make her believe you. But you didn’t even know what you believed. So, with a broken sob, you turned and left.

And when the door closed behind you, Ellie stayed standing there, realizing everything that happened, letting the waves of anger and frustation hit her harder than anything she had endured before.

She could learn to live without you. She had to.

A few months passed and Ellie was doing better. Or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself. It was hard to close the chapter of you in her life, because you kept coming back. But it had been weeks since you stopped looking for her, and even if she still cried some nights, she was happier.

And now, she was here. Sitting across from a beautiful girl at a quiet little bar just outside of town, trying—really trying—to focus on the way she laughed, the way her dark curls bounced when she tilted her head.

So, when Dina reached across the table and nudged Ellie’s fingers with her own, Ellie let herself smile.

Then her phone buzzed. She ignored it, but minutes passed, and it buzzed again. And again. Ellie pulled it out, brow furrowing. Four missed calls, unknown number.

Her first instinct was to ignore it, to flip her phone over and go back to pretending she was fine. But something twisted in her stomach, so she sighed and muttered, "Sorry, gimme a sec," before answering on the fifth ring. "Hello?"

There was a pause, then a man’s voice. When he said your name, Ellie immediately sat up straighter. Her grip tightened on the phone. "Who is this?"

"Some guy who works at the bar she decided to pass out in," he said. "Look, her dumb ass got wasted, and I found her unconscious in the bathroom. Checked her phone for an emergency contact—your name was the only one listed. But the stupid phone ran out of battery."

She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. "Is she okay?"

"She’s breathing, but she ain’t moving." When the guy didn't hear any response, his voice grew impatient. "Look, you gonna come get her or what?"

Ellie closed her eyes. Anger curled inside her throat. Of course, after all these months—after all the nights she spent trying to forget—you still found a way to drag her back in. "Yeah," she muttered. "Text me the address." She hung up and exhaled sharply.

"El?" Dina’s voice pulled her back. "What’s wrong?"

She hesitated, "I, uh—" She looked at her, at the warmth in her brown eyes, at the soft concern on her face. She didn’t deserve this. "I gotta go."

Dina frowned. “What? Why?”

Ellie hesitated. She didn’t want to explain. Didn’t want to say your name out loud. So she just shook her head and muttered, "It’s complicated."

The brunette studied her, but she finally nodded. "Okay. Just call when you get home."

She apologized again, and left Dina at the bar.

By the time Ellie arrived at the location, she was pissed. Not just at you, but at herself. For dropping everything.

The bartended guided her to the bathrooms, and then she saw you—slumped over, your head resting on your folded arms, barely conscious.

"Jesus Christ," Ellie muttered under her breath. She turned to the bartender, who was wiping down the counter. "How much did she have?"

The guy shrugged. "Enough to black out."

Ellie clenched her jaw. With a frustrated sigh, she crouched beside you, nudging your shoulder. "Hey, you."

You stirred, groaning softly. Your head lifted just barely, and when your blurry eyes found hers, you blinked like you couldn’t believe she was real. "Ellie?"

She ignored the way her heart clenched at the sound of it. "Come on," she muttered, sliding an arm under yours and hauling you up. "Let’s get you out of here."

You barely had the strength to stand. Your legs gave out almost immediately, and Ellie cursed under her breath before looping your arm around her shoulders, taking most of your weight.

"Fuck, you stink," she muttered.

You only hummed in response, your head lolling against her shoulder. She payed for your drinks and dragged you toward the exit. "Where are your keys?" No response.

Ellie tried again, slower. "Do you have your keys?"

You groaned, barely shaking your head. Ellie clenched her teeth. "Fucking great."

That meant she had to take you to her place. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want you anywhere near her space, didn’t want to wake up tomorrow morning and see you there, hungover and regretful. But she didn’t have another choice. She dragged you to her car, helped you into the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut before walking around to the driver’s side.

You were slumped against the window, barely conscious for the entire ride. Ellie kept glancing at you, hoping to see your chest rise.

This wasn’t her problem anymore. You weren’t her problem anymore. And yet, here she was. Again. By the time she pulled into her driveway, she was exhausted. She parked, turned off the engine, and sighed. "Alright, come on."

Getting you inside was a struggle. You could barely walk, and Ellie had to practically carry you through the front door. She kicked it shut behind her, then dragged you to the couch, letting you collapse onto it.

You groaned, curling into yourself. Ellie exhaled sharply. "Un-fucking-believable,"

She should’ve left you there. Should’ve let you deal with the mess you made. But she didn’t. Because she knew you. She knew how you didn't get along with your family, and you didn't have many friends. It didn't surpised her much when the guy said she was your only emercengy contact, but her stomach dropped anyway.

Ellie grabbed a blanket, put it over you, then stood there, staring at you for a long moment. Even like this—drunk, a mess, barely coherent—some stupid part of her still thought you looked beautiful. And that pissed her off even more.

She shook her head and turned away, heading for her room. She needed sleep. Needed space. But before she could leave, you whispered her name. Soft. Broken. She froze. You shifted slightly, blinking up at her with half-lidded, glassy eyes. "I missed you... so much..."

Ellie inhaled sharply. Her throat burned. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Just turned off the lights and walked away.

Hours later, Ellie woke up to silence.

For a moment, she thought maybe you were still asleep on the couch. But when she went to the living room, it was empty. The blanket she had thrown over you was folded poorly on the armrest, the glass of water she had left on the coffee table sat untouched. You were gone.

Ellie cursed under her breath, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as a sick feeling curled in her stomach. You had been wasted. Barely coherent. And now, after everything, you had just... left?

She grabbed her phone, quickly opening her messages.

Ellie: Where the fuck are you?

The text delivered. No reply. She waited a minute, then another. Nothing.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to be the one still worrying, still caring when she shouldn’t. But the image of you, barely standing, slurring words, needing her to hold you up, wouldn’t leave her head. She shook her head typed again.

Ellie: You better not have gone out drinking again.

Still nothing. Her chest tightened. You were stupid sometimes. But you weren’t—no, you wouldn’t—Would you?

She tried calling. The phone rang once, twice, then went straight to voicemail. Ellie ran a hand down her face, pacing the length of her room. Don’t freak out. You’re probably fine. You probably just—

Her phone buzzed. She grabbed it so fast she nearly dropped it. But when she looked at the screen, it wasn’t you. It was Dina.

Ellie exhaled sharply, closing her eyes for a second before answering. "Hey."

"Hi," Dina’s voice was soft, cautious. "You okay?"

Ellie hesitated. She knew she should tell Dina everything, tell her why she left mid-date, tell her why her hands were shaking slightly—she couldn’t.

"Yeah," she muttered. "Just—tired."

Dina was quiet for a second, like she didn’t believe her. "You wanna come over?"

Ellie stared at the blank screen of her phone, waiting for a text that wouldn’t come. "I—" She stopped. Swallowed, weighting her options. "Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come over."

Because what else was she supposed to do? Sit here and worry about you? Chase after you when you clearly didn’t want to be found? No. She wasn’t going to do that anymore.

So Ellie grabbed her keys, shoved her phone into her pocket, and walked out the door, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut the whole time.

A year had passed since everything had fallen apart.

Ellie wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point, the aching weight of you in her chest had begun to fade. Not entirely, but enough to finally move forward, to let Dina in.

The party was in full swing, neon lights flashing against the walls, music loud enough to drown out anything but the thrum of bass and laughter. Ellie had never really liked these kinds of things, but Dina had a way of making everything feel easy. Effortless.

"You’re staring."

Ellie huffed a laugh, fingers tightening at Dina’s waist as she pulled her back in. "Yeah? Maybe ‘cause you look hot."

Dina rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. "You’re such a flirt."

She leaned in, the scent of Dina’s perfume familiar, grounding. Then, the air shifted. It was subtle—but Ellie felt it before she even turned her head, and found you. You looked so different. And yet, still you.

Your hair was longer, your face softer, fuller, like you had finally started taking care of yourself. And your eyes—god, your eyes. Clear. Sober. Bright in a way she hadn’t seen in years. You looked good. No, you looked great. And it made Ellie’s stomach twist because fuck, fuck, fuck—why did you still have this effect on her?

You stood near the bar, talking to someone, laughing at something they said. But then, as if you had felt her staring, your gaze lifted, landing directly on her.

Ellie’s grip on Dina faltered. You tilted your head, and then you smiled. Soft. Almost hesitant at first. Ellie felt her chest tighten. She shouldn’t care. She didn’t care.

Dina shifted against her, pulling her back. "Hey," she murmured, not noticing the way Ellie had gone stiff, the way her breathing had gone shallow. "You okay?"

Ellie forced herself to look away. "Yeah." Her throat felt dry. "Yeah, I’m good."

But she wasn’t. Because you were here. And you were better. And Ellie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or absolutely wrecked by it.

By the time the song finished, Ellie was already excusing herself, and making her way to you. Her body acted before her brain could even catch up. Maybe it was muscle memory—an instinct buried so deep inside her that it didn’t matter how much time had passed, how much she had tried to move on.

Her fingers twitched at her sides as she closed the distance, pushing past dancing bodies, the bass vibrating through her ribs. You were so close now, just a few steps away. But someone else got to you first.

A tall, broad-shouldered woman approached from behind, her presence commanding even in a crowded room. She was built like a warrior, blonde hair gracefully interwined in a long braid. Her hand slid around your waist, fingers pressing into your hip with a familiarity that made Ellie’s stomach churn.

And then, right before she could say your name, the woman leaned down and kissed you. She should’ve looked away. She should’ve turned around, should’ve gone back to Dina, should’ve swallowed down the burning feeling clawing its way up her throat.

But she didn’t. Instead, she just stood there, frozen, watching as you melted into the touch—into her. Ellie clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She had no right to be upset. No right to feel this pit in her stomach, this dull ache in her chest, this overwhelming, gut-wrenching sense of loss.

You looked healthier. Stronger. Happier. And for the first time in her life, she realized that maybe she was the only one who never really moved on. Without another word, without waiting for you to look back at her, Ellie turned and left.

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 3

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Stabbing, Azriel unalives somebody that really had it coming, Death by being put on fire

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

*If you keep glaring at Keir like that we are never getting anywhere,* Rhys said into his mind, some amusement bleeding into his voice. 

*I think he’s trying to waste your time on purpose,* Azriel responded with a scowl. 

 The shadows hadn’t picked up anything out of the usual…but that didn’t mean anything…even Keir could manage to hide something if he really wanted to…and he did want to, Azriel thought. 

He wasn’t sure yet what…but there was something. There must be something. 

This meeting was utterly useless, was slowly turning into needless sniping at each other and Azriel didn’t like it…it felt like Keir was just trying to keep them in place for longer. 

The question was just for what? 

It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up like a cat…the feeling that something…something was…not quite right, that he couldn't put his finger on…

He hated that feeling. Azriel much preferred it, when he got all the facts… when he could make plans and plans for his plans…

But he couldn’t…and he was still stuck with being in the Hewn City and not in Velaris.

*Cassian is thinking the same,* Rhys responded with a sigh. *We’ll give it another hour. Don’t worry, we'll be back in Velaris soon enough,* he teased Azriel lightly. Rhys must have caught one of his thoughts. *Give Feyre some time and then you can go get your girl.*

An easy promise given. 

*Not my girl,* Azriel gave back immediately. *Not yet. Not…* Not until she wanted to be. Not until she knew the truth and…

*She won’t turn you down, Az,* Rhys said quietly, sussing out what was really bothering him immediately. 

But what if she did? Eira had every reason in the book to turn him down. Starting with his ill-thought-out pursuit of her actual twin sister to the simple fact of who he was…

She had every reason to tell him to fuck off to the continent because she never wanted to see him again. Granted, he highly doubted she would do that…he had never heard as much as a curse word out of her mouth. 

She had been raised as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and clearly, that’s how she carried herself, even after everything had happened. 

At least she had clung to that bit of her human life.

*She has every reason to,* Azriel disagreed quietly.  Every reason to turn him down. Regardless of what he wished for…every reason not to be interested. 

What if she wanted to cling to even more of her human life? If the wings that he sprouted from his back were a step too far for her…if the scars that marred his hands were…

Or what if she simply didn’t want him? That would be a valid choice too and he would accept that. 

Of course, he would. 

He never wanted to force her into anything that she didn’t want. 

So what if she hated him? 

*She won't and she doesn't,* Rhys disagreed sharply. *Azriel, Mor was right,” his brother told him pointedly. “Eira has been having a crush on you for years. She’ll probably be ecstatic and immediately start planning your wedding…Maybe Elain can lend her all her wedding binders,” Rhys teased him. 

He bit back a smile at that. Maybe…maybe… He wished for that. He wished that would be…

Whatever she wanted. She wanted a big wedding? He would suffer through that, just for the chance of seeing her happy. Just for her smiling at him…not as painfully polite as she had been last evening but bright and happy and unbridled…He wanted to see that. 

He wanted to see all of that. 

But he pushed that thought away.  

*I am intrigued and terrified by what is actually in these binders,* Azriel admitted drily. *Even you didn’t have that many when you were planning Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony.*

*Helion is overcompensating,* Rhys quipped, though they both knew that it probably was the truth. 

After everything had gone down in Autumn, ending with a dead Beron, High Lord Eris and Lucien Vanserra officially becoming Lucien Spell-Cleaver…well.

*I owe you an apology,* Rhys said at that moment, and Azriel stared at his brother, who was listening to Keir with a bored expression on his face. *I did only want…the best for you that solstice but how I went around it…that wasn’t particularly nice to you.*

*Actually I owe you my gratitude,* Azriel said drily. *I didn’t want to hear it then…but I was…I wasn’t in love with Elain. I was…infatuated,* he admitted. *I was jealous of you and Cassian and that…that clouded my judgement. It could have ended very badly if you didn’t intervene.*

Very badly. A Blood Duel would have been their smallest problem then. 

*It could have,* Rhys agreed. *That’s why I interfered in the first place…But I still hurt you in that moment, and I wish I hadn’t.*

*If I keep behaving like an idiot you have my full permission to call me out on it,* Azriel gave back with a sigh. 

*Then stop thinking like you don’t deserve her,* Rhys said with a mental eye roll. 

*Sure, I’ll stop once you stop thinking the same about Feyre,* he shot back. Rhys would have retorted, but he was beaten to it. 

The shadows came suddenly, in a frenzy whispering in his ear, voices hurried and panicking: Master, Master you need to come NOW!

*What’s wrong?* Rhys demanded, just as that dormant bond in his chest was flooded with pure, undiluted terror.  

The Princeling and our Mate! 

*Eira and Nyx,* he choked out. The shadows already grasped him, before Rhys’ mental order could fully reach him.  

*GO!*

They dragged him out of Hewn City, into Velaris.

The ground he hit was scorched. 

That was the first thing he realised. 

Magic crackled in the air, thick and furious, untrained and uncontrolled…that was the second. 

Nyx had one specific playground he loved…one where Azriel knew members of their family often brought him to…with swings that he adored…

It was a place of happiness…of children laughing…of Velaris at its best…

Now…now it was a scorched wasteland. 

The swings? Gone. The smell of burning human flesh in the air, making his stomach twist, eyes tracking over the carnage. 

At least two dead…difficult to say because their bodies were burned…beyond recognition.

One more dead…mouth open in a silent scream…  One…one male held by his shadows, bearing him down onto the ground…and then, right in the middle of that carnage… in a heap on the ground…

The high-pitched crying of Nyx reached his ears, covered by the unmoving body of Eira. 

Azriel had thought that panic had been burned out of him centuries ago. He was taught something better that morning. Because it was panic that flooded his veins. Panic and Terror and…a thousand other things. 

*I need Mor! And Madja!* he snapped along the mental connection to Rhys, already hurling for both of them…sliding onto his knees as he so very carefully touched Eira’s body, feeling the delicate bones underneath his fingertips, a near unseen tremble, the smell of acrid blood clinging to her, layering over her scent. 

She had always smelled like snowdrops to him. Snowdrops and almonds and a crackling hearth. 

Now the blood…the blood…He turned her around, getting no reaction, finding Nyx safe and sound tucked underneath her, crying, his little face red and splotchy as he sobbed. 

*AZRIEL!?* Rhys demanded. 

*Nyx is fine. Not a scratch.* 

All he managed…as he finally saw the scarlet red dripping down onto Nyx…smeared all over him…and then he saw the handle of that dagger protruding from Eira’s limp form. 

Blood. Her blood. 

“Ra! Ra! Ra!” Nyx gargled, just as he finally managed to slap a patch of his killing power around that knife, keeping it steady. He didn’t pull it out, knowing that that could kill her…even when the blood that oozed out around it was starkly black in places…and he could smell the scent of…something burning in the back of his throat. 

Poison. That knife had been poisoned. 

A curse left his mouth at that. 

That wasn't good. That was everything but good. 

*Eira?* Rhys demanded at that moment. 

*Stabbed.*

The connection went silent, just as the booming sound of Morrigan winnowing went in beside him. 

“Az?”

“She needs Madja. Now,” he bit out. “Take them both.”

Safe. Safe. 

He needed her safe. And then he needed…

He leaned down, picking up one limp hand and pressing a kiss against it, her skin clammy and grey…even when he could feel her pulse thrumming underneath the thin skin on the back of her wrist... He breathed in snowdrops and almonds and sweetness...and then let go, because if he didn't...he never would. He would lie right down next to her, waiting for his demise. 

He grasped Truthteller without even thinking about it, as he stalked across the ground towards the one sole survivor. The shadows jerked him up, and Azriel grabbed hold of his throat. 

“What. Did. You. Do?!” he growled. What had they done to Eira?  To his mate?

“I…we…just the Prince…Grab the Prince. No matter the cost,” the male garbled out, the acrid smell of urine hitting his nostrils and only now Azriel took in the black uniform. 

Darkbringer. 

Court of Nightmares. Keir. 

Suddenly… it all made sense. It came together. The secret Keir had been keeping. It was so clear now. 

“Who hired you?!” Azriel spat out, wanting a verbal answer before…before... 

“The Steward!” 

And that’s all he needed to hear, before he drove Truthteller into him, into the exact same place where they had stabbed Eira…not immediately killing him, but seeing his eyes widen, seeing the realisation set in….the pained scream escaping him. 

“She’s mine,” Azriel whispered. “Mine. And you hurt her. You hunted her.” Like a game. Like an animal. 

She was his. His mate. 

And Azriel hadn’t been there to protect her.  He hadn’t been there for any of this…

“Lightning,” the male choked, blood bubbling on his lips. *She…killed…lightning.”

He didn't care what the male told him. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. 

The only thing that mattered was her. 

He watched as the light dimmed in his eyes, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction that he at least had gotten to do this. At least…

*It was Keir,* Rhys said into his mind, his voice deathly quiet.  *He…He ordered…*

*He wanted Nyx,*  Azriel agreed, pulling Truthteller out of the body, letting the male fall to the ground, wiping the blade on his trousers. 

*How many did you kill?* Rhys asked. No judgment. He could have slaughtered three dozen and Rhys wouldn’t have cared at that moment. 

*One.*

He could feel Rhys’ surprise. Then: *He said he sent 4.*

*Two were burned beyond recognition,* Azriel explained. *Another is dead, but still recognisable. I do not know how he died. The whole ground is charred. Scorched.*

A second later…Rhys and Cassian appeared, winnowing in from Hewn City. He imagined that Feyre had gone straight to their son.  Cassian took one look around at the ground, the carnage…the…

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Mor took Nyx and Eira?” he asked and Azriel forced a nod, feeling for that golden thread bound around his rib…wished he would get something, anything from her…

“She shielded him with her body,” he said nearly tonelessly. “He was smeared in her blood because she shielded him.”

Even stabbed, even feeling like she was going to die…Eira had done everything to shield her nephew. Had used her own body to keep him safe. Had protected him with her life. 

Azriel had never doubted that she loved him…but it still…she must not have even hesitated. Just done it.

She was a slip of a girl, with no combat training…and she had faced four of the Court of Nightmare's most elite soldiers and laid down her life if that meant that Nyx would be safe. 

He had seen grown Illyrian Warriors that would have tucked tails and run in this situation. 

Outnumbered…Outpowered. And still, she had stood her ground. 

“What happened here?” Cassian asked as he checked the other recognisable body. 

“They must have surprised her,” Rhys said, his voice shaking. “She thought they were safe. We thought they were safe…”

And they hadn’t been. They hadn’t been safe. 

At all. 

Death had been brought right to their doorstep in Velaris. 

“How did he die?” Rhys demanded from Cassian. 

“He was struck by lightning,” Cassian responded drily. “I have seen this before…on a cow though. It would also explain the scorched ground. If lightning hits the ground, it makes a pattern like that.”

What?

Lightning?

He looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful summer’s day. Not a trace of a storm…anywhere. 

“Do you think it was Nyx?” Cassian asked quietly but Rhys shook his head. 

“I have never seen anybody channel lightning,” Rhys answered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Never. I…” Neither had Azriel.  “He’s too young to channel magic like that.”

But was he? In a situation like that? When he had just tried to protect Eira? and himself? Maybe even at 1-year-old Nyx had recognised what…what would happen if he didn’t protect himself. Maybe it had been pure instinct on his part…Maybe he had seen Eira fall and that had been…

Eira. 

He reached for that bond again, feeling it tremble and he hung onto it with all his might, clenching his teeth. 

He…

He had failed her, hadn’t he? It should have never come that far. It should have never…It should have never…

Azriel should have been the one taking that knife to the chest, not her. 

“Clearly not,” Cassian disagreed with a snort. “He’s your son,” Cassian pointed out drily. “He’s Feyre’s son…who knows what he has inherited from her.”

Rhys stayed rooted in one spot, blinking once. 

“Rhys?” Cassian asked immediately. 

“Get Nesta,” he ordered Cassian. “We are needed at the River House.” And then after a second that felt like eternity…“It’s not…It’s not looking good.”

And with one sentence…everything crumbled. 

[eamour]

living a life in sin.

most of the times, we live a life in sin without really noticing it. we wait for our desires, we wait for something to change in the 3D, we wait for something to fulfill us. what we don’t realise is that by doing so, we neglect the feeling of our desires, the purpose of our imagination and most importantly, ourselves.

to live in sin.

to sin means to live a life of unfulfillment. to sin means to deny yourself of the experiences you would want to have. it means to lock yourself away from the feeling of satisfaction that comes along with the inner fulfillment of your desires. to sin is also an act of robbery; you rob yourself (GOD) the moment you choose to live a life that isn’t meant for you. you steal and take away feelings of happiness and contentment and therefore commit an act of sin.

living in desire.

the fact that you are desiring tells me a lot about your state. if you aim for the end but you catch yourself are desiring your manifestation, that should tell you that you are not truly living in the end. if you had your desire, you wouldn’t constantly think about when it’s going to manifest, if it’s going to appear on time or how you're going to attain it. you wouldn’t bother about the ways it'll come to you, you wouldn’t try to put in physical effort and you most definitely wouldn’t constantly check the 3D for validation. because remember, the 3D can only be what your 4D is.

stop sinning.

stop sinning. stop robbing yourself. stop rejecting your desires. stop running away from them. stop denying yourself desirable feelings. stop pushing them away from you. stop wasting your time accepting questionable convictions of yourself and give yourself permission to BE who you want to be and to HAVE what you want to have. only you can determine who you are and how much you have within.

in imagination, it's yours.

you can’t have what you still desire. it’s quite ironic that we get the things we desire by not desiring anymore and by gifting them to us instead of waiting for the world to serve us on its own. but your imagination IS your saviour. in imagination, you can BE and HAVE anything you'd like. so why not grant yourself all of your desires? who is stopping you? no one's going to take away your desires in a place that is only accessible to you and you ONLY.

desire, until you don’t.

now, to no longer desire your desire doesn’t only happen when you stop wanting it. it also naturally happens when you no longer NEED to desire it — as you're already in possession of it. once you claim to have your desire in your mind, you will eventually get to a point of not desiring it anymore. it can look like this: "i know i have my desire now. in imagination, i have accepted that it’s mine. i am it now!" this is actually a very good sign. it’s like the highest level on the manifestation pyramid (if you will). it’s called ACCEPTANCE.

give yourself your desire.

"so i no longer want to be it, i am it!" — neville goddard.

whenever you want something, whenever you crave to have something "physically", let yourself experience it in your 4D. give it to yourself in imagination. do not wait, do not tell yourself that you'll do it later, once you are home or before you fall asleep. do it THEN and THERE. do not condition your desire and do not let yourself spend any day longer living in desire. you will see how your state will change quite immediately and you will feel easy about it. you will feel fulfilled. you will HAVE it or BE it because that’s what you have just decided. you will feel your imagination to be real, realer than anything undesirable in the 3D and you will start to become comfortable in imagination. eventually, you won’t care about ANYTHING but experiencing. eventually, you won’t care about having it in the 3D.

with love, ella.

[hees-mine]

Say goodbye - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: mature content.

Genre: 18+, ex’s.

Word count: 3k+

-

Ten at night, you found yourself standing outside your ex’s apartment, an apartment you used to frequent on days off or when he planned dates for the two of you at his place, that used to be your second home, but you messed all of that up when you broke up with him seven months ago.

Thinking back now, you realize just how much of a mistake you made, but you were not in a good head space at the time. That being said, it still wasn’t a valid reason for you to dump him. He was the only person who kept all your little pieces together. Even when you were in tough times, he was able to make everything better. Heeseung was the most devoted boyfriend to you. He was your rock. He was literally your everything.

But at some point, you decided to hide your worries from him and keep them to yourself. You knew he’d always be there for you to help you through everything, but you didn’t want to burden him all the time with your issues.

Clearly, you weren��t thinking straight.

As time went on, it only got tougher on you, and hiding things just became the norm. There was a lot going on, and at that time, it was all just too much for you to handle, and you didn’t want to waste his time while you were still figuring things out.

He deserved someone who knew what they wanted and how to communicate what they wanted, not someone who easily changed with the wind and carried too much baggage. So you decided to call it quits with him so that he could find someone who was good for him because you were far from that.

But after these long seven months, you were regretting your decision to leave him. Hell, you didn’t even want to do it in the first place, but you thought it’d be best for you and him.

And that’s all you ever wanted, was the best for him.

He was clearly hurt and shocked when you told him those heartbreaking words, and the look of sadness and confusion on his face made your heart break into pieces.

And it broke into even tinier pieces when he tried everything to get you to change your mind.

“We can spend some time apart, but I’ll always be here for you.”

“I can give you some space.”

“Maybe a little break is all we need.”

He really didn’t want to lose you, but you had other plans, ones you thought would make his life and yours easier. If anything, it only made it worse. It took you too long to realize it months had already passed, and for all you know, he could have someone new by now.

You’d text him weekly, and he’d never respond. You’re surprised he hadn’t blocked you yet, but a tiny little piece of you was grateful that he didn’t cause just seeing that he left your messages on seen was enough for you to hold out an ounce of hope.

You saw him three times since the breakup to pick up all your things. You quietly entered his apartment, never sharing information about how you were feeling, nor did he, but he didn’t have to cause you could clearly see the animosity he held for you.

But who are you kidding? You broke up with him with no explanation other than you needing to sort things out. You’d be upset if someone left you like that, too. You realize how much of a shitty thing that was to do, and you’re so sorry for it.

All that being said you hoped he wouldn’t be too upset when he saw you standing outside his door this late at night.

You inhaled a deep breath and knocked on his door. Not even a minute later, you heard the latch click, and the door creaked open soon later, revealing your ex, the most handsome, sweet man you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

His eyes widened for a moment, surprised to see you there, but the shock quickly died down. The look of annoyance taking over his features was quite evident. “What are you doing here?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest and trying his best not to roll his eyes at that half-assed smile you gave him.

Read full story on patreon!

Posting more soon! Sorry for the inactivity🩵

[hunxi-after-hours]

10 books for 2025

tagged by @impossibletruths — a direct hit! right where I'm weak! books!!!!!

had a bizarrely difficult time coming up with this list because I'm a huge proponent of reading whatever the mood moves me to, so I actively avoid particularly rigid "to read" lists. also because the spreadsheet where I track titles that have piqued my interest has, um. well over 170 titles that I've been "meaning to get to, you know, at some point, really, I swear"

but since the year is still young and my hubris still fresh, here are 10 books that I'd like to get to, you know, at some point, really, I swear—

Waste Tide by Chen Qiufan, trans. Ken Liu — I genuinely have been meaning to read this one for ages; I'm not particularly well-read in the Chinese SF space, but even I've heard of Chen Qiufan. I've honestly been intrigued by his brain ever since I read that WIRED interview of his, and though I've read some of his short fiction, I want to see what a full-length novel of his looks like.

《桥头楼上》 At the Head of the Bridge, On Top of the Building by priest — I've also been meaning to read this one for ages, to the point where my mom is on my case about it. I keep putting it off because I want to be able to devote the time and brainspace to the layers of nested narratives + social commentary + the satellite material around the text, but at some point I think I just gotta give myself a kick in the pants and dive in

《膜》 Membranes by 纪大伟 Chi Tai-wei — queer Taiwanese SF first published in 1996; I know an English translation of this title came out recently, but I'm still trying to track down a copy of the original to read.

《漫长的余生》 The Lengthy Rest of Your Life by 罗新 Luo Xin — this book came as a recommendation from a friend in archaeology; a historical novel based on the epitaph of a Northern Wei Dynasty imperial palace maid. From what I've heard, it's not particularly epic or exciting, but it's very archaeologically rigorous. I do have a physical copy of this one on my shelf, so I actually have no excuse for not getting to it soon.

Unquiet Spirits: Essays by Asian Women in Horror edited by Lee Murray and Angela Yuriko Smith — I don't usually pick up books for the cover but LOOK at that. I've been slowly but steadily getting into horror over the past few years, and this collection combines both research-nonfiction and memoir-nonfiction, which I'm absolutely stoked about.

I'll Love You Forever: Notes from a K-Pop Fan by Giaae Kwon — I never quite got into K-Pop but I love reading about people obsessed with K-Pop. I find something particularly heartwarming and familiar and validating in reading authors who reflect deeply and emotionally on their personal experiences with fandom and obsession.

Romancing the Internet: Producing and Consuming Chinese Web Romance by Jin Feng — I learned last week that Jin Feng (author of "Addicted to Beauty," the OG academic overview of danmei) wrote an entire book about Chinese romance webnovels, and I need to have read it yesterday.

Dreadful Desires: The Uses of Love in Neoliberal China by Charlie Yi Zhang — I picked up a copy earlier this year, and I am intrigued by the premise of its wide-ranging investigations, anchored around the uses of "love" by the Chinese state in all of its obsessive and exploitative forms.

The Library at Hellebore by Cassandra Khaw — I am usually pretty unimpressed by the genre of dark academia fantasy, but I trust Cassandra Khaw to put the dark (and the viscera, and the gore) in dark academia. Also every time I read one of their books I learn something new and horrifying about biology.

The Red Scholar's Wake by Aliette de Bodard — every year I resolve to read more Aliette de Bodard and every year I fail to. May this be the kick in the pants that I both need and deserve. Also to be honest I've been thinking about this book ever since that Reactor review last year

tagging @presumenothing @pavoling @aboxthecolourofheartache @qilingxiong @blackelement7 @shijiujun @neuxue @baoshan-sanren and anyone who's feeling particularly bookish! I want to hear what everyone's reading, or having aspirations about reading

[copperbadge]

Hi Sam! I wanted to ask if you feel lately like you've been getting anything positive out of your therapy, because a lot of your initial thoughts about it kind of mirror mine. I'm very logical (except when I'm upset at myself) and very skeptical, so I feel like a therapist either isn't going to tell me anything new, or that I'm going to just disregard it because I can't trick myself into believing things that I just plain don't believe.

But I'm also starting to come to a realization, two years after my ADHD diagnosis and letting go (without therapy!) of most of the executive dysfunction-fueled self worth issues I was having, that I'm kind of Not Okay in other ways. I'm safe —going to work every day and doing my job so I won't lose my livelihood and have never had a self harm urge in my life— But I'm not really okay. I'm having major self esteem issues related to my personality separate from the executive dysfunction that are putting me in a bad place. I don't want to take antidepressants for reasons I won't go into but that means my other option is therapy and... I don't know if I'm a person that therapy will actually work on. I found a lot of validation in some of your perspectives, about affirmations being bullshit and "mindfulness" exercises feeling impossible and useless, about not having an inner monologue and how that might be causing issues with traditional methods. So I was just wondering, do you feel like therapy is working now that you've been in it longer?

I've wasted a lot of money on "elective" (and ultimately useless, back to square one) medical nonsense this year and I'm not eager to waste more, but I've also met my insurance deductible so it's the best time to try it if I'm going to.

I mean, it depends on the modality a little but I don't think trying basic talk therapy can hurt, as long as you find a decent therapist. And it's better to try it now when you're feeling Mostly Okay than waiting until you are Really Not Okay. But this entire paragraph comes with a lot of context so....

A lot of what I talked about in terms of struggling with mindfulness, etc. was less related to the therapy I am still in than it was to the DBT class I took at Therapist's suggestion. We were both aware that she was basically throwing stuff at the wall to see what stuck, and while it was an interesting class I don't think for me it was helpful. As you mention, I struggled with affirmations and visualization since neurologically I'm not really set up for those; I don't think they're objectively bullshit but I do think there's an assumption within the mental health industry that they will have function for everyone and that's simply untrue, and the expectation that it will is very damaging. I also struggled with the physical-intervention aspects (called TIPP usually) which didn't work at all for me and felt frankly like doctor-approved self harm. DBT can get very culty, which set off a ton of red flags for me -- possibly false flags, but they still waved real big.

And that's because I also have a lot of trust issues surrounding therapy. To the point where, the minute one of the people running the DBT class made actually quite gentle fun of me for asking a question he couldn't answer, I checked out on anything he said. We were learning about a DBT concept called Wise Mind and I asked, "If wise mind is an identifiable mental state, how do we know if we're in it?" and when he couldn't quite answer beyond "It's different for everyone" I said, "But if we know it's real there must be some kind of common denominator, a measurable data point," and he said "Well, Sam, you're not going to levitate" and the rest of the class laughed. Sorry bud, this is almost certainly an over-reaction, but I'm me and you lost me when you came at me instead of just admitting you didn't know. (Also it turns out I just live in Wise Mind like 80% of the time which is one reason I couldn't tell.)

But basic talk therapy outside of DBT is just...you talk at someone about your problems and come up with ways to try and solve them, which is a lot more straightforward and way less frustrating. You have to be an active participant, you have to both have a goal and be willing to discuss reaching it, but that goal can be as simple as just "figure out what my mental health goals should be" at first. You don't have to learn like, vocabulary for it.

The thing is, while I have seen some improvement in regulation issues, I also struggle with basic talk therapy. Most people, and this blew my mind, see measurable improvement in nine to eighteen therapy sessions. A lot of people don't go long-term, they just are having a moment and get help getting through the moment and then can disengage, with their therapist's approval.

I was in therapy consistently from the age of nine to eighteen and only stopped because I reached legal majority and physically refused to go.

Not one minute of those nine years did I want to be there. And, because none of the three therapists I saw across those years actually explained to me why I was there or how therapy worked, for me it felt like "Your punishment for having feelings is to speedrun every feeling you had this week in an hour, to a stranger." There was also what my current therapist believes to be some extremely unethical behavior going on, which didn't help.

So it has taken actually a lot of time to get to a place where I would even allow her to understand what help I need. I've been in therapy for about a year (generally weekly but there have been some gaps) and it has only recently gotten deeper than very basic interpersonal problem-solving.

Like, two weeks ago I told her, "I had a thought this week that I couldn't tell you about something I was doing because then you'd have material on me" (meaning blackmail material) "and that's a fucked-up thing to think." And once I'd actually identified it as fucked up I had zero issue telling her about it, wasn't even nervous as I did so. Who's she going to tell? She's literally legally constrained from telling.

I think well over half of what she does is either validate that whatever emotion I'm having is normal, affirm my reactions so I don't keep believing I behaved weirdly, or praise something I've done that was a positive act. Does this work? Not always, because I'm unfortunately very aware that it's part of her job to do those things. But yeah, sometimes. Even if you don't fully believe it, "Hey that was a really smart move" is nice to hear. Sometimes she helps me come up with a plan for stressful future events or (rarely) behavior modification, and sometimes she either provides me with research or points me towards research I can do on my own. We don't do meditation or affirmations or stuff like that.

Like, last week I brought up the fact that I hadn't really ever thought about how if I have a disability that causes emotional dysregulation and I got it from my parents, they also likely had undiagnosed emotional dysregulation when raising me. So she said I should look into research on children with emotionally dysregulated parents. I was pretty annoyed by what I found (the ONE TIME adults are the focus instead of the kids is the ONE TIME I needed to learn about the kids, really?) but it led to something that was both informative and upsetting, so we discussed that. And when I was stumped about how to move forward with the information, she suggested that my general coping mechanism of writing about it was probably a good plan.

(At which point I just silently advanced my powerpoint presentation to the next slide, where I had a series of quotes from the Shivadh novels where Michaelis, acting as a parent, repeatedly does the exact opposite of the upsetting thing, because I realized even before the meeting that it's an ongoing theme in my work whenever I deal with people being parents. It's a good thing she has a sense of humor and also that I do.)

So yeah. Going into therapy you have to be ready to reject a therapist if you don't like them or if they get weird and pushy, you have to be ready to be a self-advocate, but you are the client; it shouldn't be super difficult to find someone who can at least walk you through what you want from it and agree not to do the stuff you don't want, and if you want to stop going you just...stop going.

Good luck, in any case! I hope you get what you need, whether or not that ends up being therapy.

[love-belle]

you were my summer love !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them missing each other while their friends go crazy over their relationship.

or

for when you know they'll be your love for all eternal summers. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // pierre gasly x fem!reader

prequel - i want sweet revenge and i want him again ⋆·˚ ༘

warnings - language, mention of vodka once.

author's note - i am in fact not dead :) i hope u all like this <3 i will be back with a new post 4 months later jk I LOVE U THANK U

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by pierregasly, y/n4eva, gasly10 and 56,828 others

paddock.club pierre gasly and celine d'souza have called it quits on their relationship after almost three months of dating, sources close to the pair reported. the pair started dating back in august after gasly broke up with his "summer love", y/n y/l/n, affectionately named as augustine by gasly and his fans. although their break up was kept hush for a long time and so was their relationship, pierre wasted no time in moving on and with none other than social media influencer, celine d'souza. "there is no bad blood between them," sources claimed, "they just didn't fit well and it was no good trying to make it work." for more details about their short-lived relationship and the driver's summer romance with the singer, click on the link in our bio.

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55, landonorris and 2,518,916 others

yourusername yeah i miss the way he kisses and the way he grabbed my ass but i can't do anything about it so idk i cry

14,782 comments

username GIRL WHERE IS UR FILTER

username Y/N NO!!!!!!!!! WE DO NOT GO BACK TO OUR EX!!!!!!!!!

username ngl this version of get him back is fire

username girl get UP

username no bc his dick game couldn't have been THIS good

-> yourusername TIME OUT FOR U 😭

-> username be fr is he really THIS funny

username girl WHY DO U NEVER LEARN

username im honestly gonna kms WHY ARE U DOING THIS TO URSELF

username the gasp i js gasped

charles_leclerc go stand in the corner and THINK

-> yourusername SHUT UP UR LITERALLY NOT VALID HERE

username every day i wake up and every day im amazed that she has managed to attain unattainable levels of delusion

-> username no bc im TIRED

username PLS BABE LET HIM GO.

username y/n have u learnt NOTHING

username the lyric change gawd dayum

username is it bad i kinda want her to do something about it ????? like do it for US im off school for weeks and i need entertainment

-> yourusername thank u for supporting my delusions 🙁

-> username GIRLYPOP NO

landonorris i say we start treating y/n like a bad kitten every time she makes a bad decision

-> landonorris that came out wrong

-> danielricciardo i see your vision here

-> charles_leclerc spray her with water DRENCH THAT DEMON

-> yourusername OFF MY PAGE U UNFORTUNATE MUTATIONS THAT ARE UNEMPLOYED FOR THE FIRST FEW MONTHS EVERY YEAR

-> username OH MY GOD

username i genuinely do not know what to do with this information

username THE WAY HE GRABBED MY ASS OMG

lewishamilton i would genuinely appreciate it if you gave me back my son

-> yourusername he's mine now move along

-> lewishamilton i will never forget that you called me weird

-> yourusername omg i apologised??? and made u sandwiches??? and took roscoe for walks THREE CONSECUTIVE DAYS???

-> username they're FRIENDS

-> username no bc their conversations must be WILD and so RANDOM

-> username im eating up every second of this

username now i js need max and nando to be besties 🤞🤞🤞🤞 with y/n and my life will be complete

-> yourusername i don't want them they're annoying

-> fernandoalo_official this is why pierre chose the other girl

-> yourusername SO LOW

-> maxverstappen1 the reason i like you is because you were drinking pure vodka out of a sippy cup at 8 am without blinking

-> yourusername this is why charles doesn't follow u x

-> maxverstappen1 THAT'S A LOW FUCKING BLOW

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,156,976 others

pierregasly do something about it

15,729 comments

username SCREECHING WHAT THE FUCK

username i have never ever been this invested in someone else's life THIS BETTER BE WORTH IT

username oh he's BOLD bold

username i know my girlie is panicking rn she did not MEAN for this to happen

username mf say this to HER

username bitches wouldn't be in this situation if they js TALKED FFS

username no bc i KNEW that something was gonna happen when he posted that song on his story

-> username fr like "when i touch her i feel like im cheating on u" BABE????

username cheating on u by charlie puth is actually so y/n and pierre coded it's INSANE

-> username the way my jaw dropped

charles_leclerc i should confiscate your phone for this

-> pierregasly you were the one who held an intervention for me so that i would "get my shit together"

-> charles_leclerc you don't HAVE to get your shit together if it means that i wouldn't be seeing her everyday

-> pierregasly just say that you're scared of her and MOVE

-> username charles is so valid bc she scares ME

-> username u never know what she's gonna do next and that's the scariest part

username im BEGGING y'all pls get back together

username the sigh that left me when i heard that pierre and celine broke up like 😭

username i live in fear that y/n and pierre will get back together and we won't be getting any more angry petty bitchy songs

username motherfucker MAKE A MOVE

username i know the grid is conspiring to get them together like they're MY menacea

-> username yeah and their most effective method (according to them) is locking them in a room

-> username do u think they know that one of them will not be making it out of the room and it'll probably be pierre 🧍

username i am a child of divorce this is christmas of '07 all over again 😔

landonorris i did NOT see you post this and then throw your phone up at the sky and screech as if someone just turned your ribs inside down to make you feel like a fairy

-> pierregasly stay away from me

-> oscarpiastri oh my god that was you??? i thought one of the cars ran over a cat on the track 😭

-> pierregasly okay mctwinks let's get you back in your playpens

-> landonorris unprovoked ☹️

-> oscarpiastri i would say watch your back but you're in the BACK so ☺️

-> pierregasly I WILL RUN YOU OFF

-> pierregasly i'm sorry my team told me i can't say that

username my head is wrapping itself around all this information like a shawl im going INSANE

username i know pierre is on all fours trying to get y/n to take him back

-> username as he should be idgaf

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, lilymhe and 2,628,826 others

yourusername yeah i really missed the way he kisses and the way he grabbed my ass so i did something about it

tagged pierregasly

18,628 comments

username IDK WHETHER TO BE MAD OR HAPPY BUT HELLO???

username im gonna scream bc wtf

username NO WARNING WHAT THE FUCK

username sigh ARE U SURE

username are we SURE it's gonna STICK this time

-> yourusername im 182729291% sure charles is gonna murder him if he acts a bit silly again so i'd say it's looking pretty good!!!!

-> charles_leclerc alex hates it when y/n is sad and they both make it MY problem so i'm sorry if i wanna make pasta in a peaceful and tranquil environment instead of bitching about my best mate

-> alexandrasaintmleux you were the one who came up with the most creative insults every time don't LIE like a LIAR

-> pierregasly charles???

-> charles_leclerc they're LYING they LIE they're LIARS

username why am i js figuring it out that y/n is AUGUSTINE like from august by taylor swift

-> username BABE 😭😭😭😭 HOW DID U NOT KNOW

username something about pierre going from her summer love to love love (we don't talk abt what happened in the middle ☺️)

username someone sedate me they're BACK

username i just KNOW charles is pulling at his hair rn bc i know my man has so much dirt on pierre but they reconciled a bit too quickly

-> charles_leclerc I DIDN'T GET TO TELL HER ABOUT THE DUCK INCIDENT

-> pierregasly ONE WORD AND I WILL ERASE YOU FROM THIS EARTH

-> yourusername charles ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ don't be shy ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ i always liked u the most out of ALL his friends ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ please elaborate ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

-> yukitsunoda0511 death would've been kinder than this ☹️

-> yourusername STOPPP U KNOW UR MY FAVOURITE I HATE THAT CHARLES MF HE TRIPS ME EVERY TIME I SEE HIM

-> charles_leclerc for the last time, i REALLY did not see the puddle exactly in front of you and i'm really really really really really sorry that you fell in that puddle. and ruined your dress. and made me pay for it. and then pushed me into a fountain.

-> alexandrasaintmleux say away from my gf charles_leclerc 😡😡😡😡😡😡

-> username i have a migraine

username the lore slowly coming to the surface

-> username NAH BC UR TELLING ME THAT YUKI AND Y/N ARE BESTIES???? ALEX AND Y/N ARE LIKE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️???? CHARLES AND Y/N HAVE BEEF???? HE PUSHED HER INTO A PUDDLE AND SHE PUSHED HIM INTO A FOUNTAIN????

-> username they kept us in the dark for so long we could've had it all 💔💔💔

username time to go on a vacation and make it a mission to hate the dude i meet and then fall in love with him

-> username HATE????

-> username pierre and y/n HATED each other when they first met but then long story short y/n saved him from a jellyfish and then it was lovers part of enemies to lovers ❤️

-> username oh the lore is WILD

username don't be a coward and record get him back with these lyrics 😡😡😡😡😡

-> yourusername i would but pierre would cry if i sang that song again now that he's back in my good books 😔💔

-> landonorris this is why you need to break up again x

-> pierregasly don't make me break check you next weekend

username is it a good time to mention that i saw u at lax and u looked WRECKED so im really glad ur both back together so that he can grab ur ass again

-> yourusername 😭😭😭😭 thank u my love

-> username tears

pierregasly thank you for doing something about it because i could NEVER

-> yourusername someone has to go to the counter and say "he asked for no pickles" in this relationship babe ❤️

-> charles_leclerc i have seen you both TREMBLING at the prospect of human interaction

-> yourusername why are u friends with him pierregasly

-> charles_leclerc not just him now 🥰

-> yourusername i am ready to break up with pierre if it means that i can get rid of this annoying parasite

-> charles_leclerc i go, alex goes

-> alexandrasaintmleux no you go away, i go to yourusername

-> yourusername DEVOURED AND BY HIS OWN GF

pierregasly all jokes (charles included) aside, i love you ❤️ thank you for hearing me out instead of pushing me down the stairs of instant death like charles told me you'd do

-> yourusername i love you 🫶🏼 i could never push u down the stairs, stair (singular) maybe but no ☺️

-> username why r u like this 🧍

username everyone cheer her crisis is GONE

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 2,578,826 others

pierregasly you were my summer love and now you'll be my forever love

tagged yourusername

17,629 comments

username STOP TEARS ARE LEAKING

username can't believe this is the guy u told y/n she was trippin (she was btw ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️)

-> username character development and threats from f1 drivers does wonders to ur personality

username can't believe we're not gonna get anymore petty and bitchy songs anymore 💔💔💔

-> username maybe the petty and bitchy songs were all the comments from this group we collected along the way

username y'all cannot convince me that charles didn't at least TRY to tell y/n to let pierre GO simply bc he's a little shit

-> yourusername can confirm, the reason it didn't work was because then i'd have to AGREE with 🤮 charles 🤮

-> charles_leclerc you act as if i'm not actively gagging while talking to you

-> pierregasly so good to know that the reason i have a LOVING girlfriend is that she just hates my best friend

username pierre will forever be catching strays as long as y/n and charles remain friends 💔

username everyday i wake up and thank the lord that i exist in a world where pierre and y/n are together and that a dying jellyfish was the cause of it all ❤️❤️❤️

username real talk!!!!! how did mama gasly react when y/n told her that her son sucks

-> yourusername i didn't have to, she called me and told me that herself

-> username iconic

-> pierregasly i'm leaving the country and shaving my hair

username "forever love" i will be on the highway don't test me

username god i have seen and noted what u did for the others

username i love it when men are unapologetically in love with their gfs

lewishamilton happy for you both. please tell y/n to return my dog.

-> pierregasly she's currently cuddling roscoe and asking me to tell you to fuck right off

-> lewishamilton godmother privileges PROVOKED

username i will never be able to wrap my head around the fact that lewis hamilton and y/n y/l/n are FRIENDS like how'd THAT happen

-> username do u think they exchange fashion tips and pointers

-> username they deffo talk shit abt charles' fashion choices

-> username they should add him in the gc and TALK to him bc those choices are HORRENDOUS

username y/n 🎤🎤🎤 did u really key his car 🎤🎤🎤

-> yourusername my lawyer advises me to deny this false allegation

-> pierregasly she did something worse.

-> yourusername OKAAYYYYYYY U R NOT ALLOWED TO TALK HERE

-> pierregasly she put glitter ALL over the interiors

-> username WOAHAHSHSKSKSKD

-> username u deserved it 🗣️‼️

username i need a step by step walkthrough of exactly HOW these two got together and i need it NOW

username so when y/n hates publicly on a dude, she manages to make him her bf but when i do it, i make him my mortal enemy??? make it make sense 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

username it is so sexy of me to continue life even when life (instagram) throws obstacles (y/n and pierre being cute and shit) at me

username i will lay in my grave and dream of a love like theirs

-> username aahh haha didn't mean to get so philosophical mb

-> yourusername that was crazy babe

-> username it's true 😔💔

username me patiently waiting for a summer love that will have me ripping my hair off my scalp 🧍

username YOU WERE MYYYYY SUMMER LOOOVEEEEEEE

-> username one direction 🔛🔝

yourusername 4ever is not so bad after all ❤️

-> pierregasly with you it won't ever be enough ❤️

-> yourusername stop making me cry i have a reputation on here 🙁🙁🙁

-> username she says as if her personality isn't js crying over things all day long and being a Hater

-> yourusername OH FUCK OFF

yourusername i love you 🪤

-> pierregasly je t'aime mon cœur but the emoji? (i love you my heart)

-> yourusername it was the closest thing i could find to a tripod

-> landonorris 🔭 this is right here and also GROSS

-> username why are u all like this

yourusername off topic but i accidentally set off the fire alarm and now im locked in the bathroom bc the lock broke and im kinda Panicking

-> pierregasly why are you a fire hazard

-> yourusername THAT'S WHAT UR CONCERNED ABOUT

username i love it when bitches are chaotic like yessss!!!!!!! go and show us that unhinged energy!!!!!!!

[godbirdart]

Hey there. Ive been admiring your work a long time and I was hoping I could get some advice from a more experienced artist.

How do you go about deciding which commission submissions will proceed forward? If you decide to decline a request how do you go about it? I recently started accepting commissions and get nervous when certain requests are too vague, too difficult or the requester isn't fully answering my questions and I dont know how to go about justifying a decline. Is it okay to decline a commission submission?

aAA thank you for enjoying my work!!

i could talk for Days about commissions and how I handle my own work, but I'm going to try to keep this short and simple for ease of reading:

i use a Google Form in combination with a number generator for my commission openings

reasons why i use a Google Form and number generator: - to avoid favoritism / client bias - to push my comfort zone with a variety of projects - to ensure i'm not taking on more work that i can handle

The Google form will automatically assign a number to each form, making it easy for me to pull up a website and ask it to generate a number between [insert number] and [insert number]. That said, I will still manually go through each form. Occasionally I'll pick up a project if I notice someone's reapplied a couple times who wasn't selected during previous openings, or if a project especially appeals to me, or isn't something i'd usually draw!

declining a commission / project:

yes, it is always okay to decline a project! you are not obligated to accept every submission that comes into your inbox / form / etc. there are many valid reasons to decline a project, from a conflict with your Terms of Service, to making sure you don't take on more work than you can reasonably handle.

if the project doesn't inspire you or spark that creative passion, it may result in frustration, exhaustion, and you might wind up handing the client a subpar art piece that you're not at all proud of. it's much more honorable to be upfront about it than to subject yourself to such grief as you waste your time and energy and your client's time and money.

ways to decline: it's always important to be polite. depending on your reasoning, you could say "Thank you for considering me for this project, but, ...." - "... This is not a project I'd be comfortable taking on." "... This project conflicts with my Terms of Service and I cannot accept it." "... I cannot accept it at this time." "... but I would not be able to fulfill your request to the detail / complexity you are expecting for this piece."

there's no shame in saying "i would not be a good fit for this project". i've had clients ask me for hyper-realistic work, which is quite far from my art style. while i could do it, i'd rather not put both myself and the client through months of frustration and waiting for a project i am not completely confident in executing.

if a client is being too vague, not answering questions:

it happens! not every client will communicate thoroughly. some clients will over-communicate, and for others there may be a language barrier so their difficultness may be entirely unintended.

you can't do the job if you don't know what you're supposed to be doing. never be afraid to ask your client for clarification on their request. phases you can use would be: - "I do not have enough information to begin work on this, could you clarify these details: [insert questions about details you need elaboration about]" - "I cannot proceed without knowing more about [insert thing], can you tell me more about [thing you need clarification on]". if your client being deliberately obtuse and refusing to supply the necessary information, you can be more firm with them such as: - "I will not proceed any further with this project if I do not receive [insert details]."

on clients being too difficult:

"difficult" is a bit subjective here. what may be considered difficult for one artist may be a walk in the park for another. this said, i'm going to use some very generic common examples here.

too many irrelevant notes, or randomly forwarding details / requests instead of condensing their ideas into one message:

"Thank you for these additional notes, however: ..." - "... please only supply notes that are directly related to the project at hand." [such as notes on the expression, environment, pose, etc - things that you need to know for the artwork you are working on] - "... please condense them into one message instead of sending multiple messages. I want to stay organized / do not want to lose track of your notes."

frequent requests for updates, or changes to the WIP / final art:

note: you should always be communicative and receptive to a client's request for updates, but here i am referring specifically to excessive requests such as numerous requests sent multiple times a day. additionally, what is considered "excessive" will vary depending on an artist's average turnaround time. "Thank you for reaching out, ..." - "... but I do not yet have an update for you at this time. I will reach out when I have an update ready for you, thank you for your patience." - "... but these requests are too frequent. Please allow more time to pass between requests for updates." You could also ask your client if they have concerns about the turnaround time, if they need the work by a specific date for a birthday / event, etc. It is important to consider that some clients may have been scammed by an artist in the past and their insistence on updates could be a result from that. if a client keeps requesting edits on the concept / sketch or final piece, you're within your right to say enough is enough. this will also vary depending on the artist's individual work process. if the changes are getting excessive, you could say: - "As we've undergone numerous edits to this, I will permit one final request for editing after which I will -" [move on to the next stage, cease work on this project, issue a partial refund, start asking fees for edits, etc; insert next step of your preference]

ignoring work hours / terms of service / communication channels

as an artist, you should set a firm boundary of what is a working day and what is not. you are not in a profession that is "on-call" 24/7. you can save some headache by having your schedule posted on your website / social media or wherever your queue is publicly posted. anywhere that is readily accessible for a client to easy find. - something you could say is: "My work days are [insert days], I answer work-related messages, work on art, and send out updates [if applicable] on those days. Thank you for your patience." if you prefer to have your work messages confined to one social media account or email, it's okay to enforce that! but be sure to have it posted in easily noticeable spots like pinned posts. - something to say here would be: "If you need to reach me, please do so via [insert platform / email etc]. I will not respond to [comments / DMs on other social media, etc]." terms of service, same as above, should be in an easy-to-find location and should be easy to read. if a client's prompt or action conflicts with your ToS, you could address it with: "As mentioned in my Terms of Service, [address thing that conflicts with your T&C."

language barriers

sometimes you may have a client with a language barrier. we live in a vast world, after all! be patient with them, and depending on their fluency, do your best to simplify your questions for them. if you know your client is using an online translator, try and avoid using jargon. we've come a long way with online translators, but they're not going to spit out the right translation if you ask "are they supposed to be super shredded and beefy" and the translator tells your client "should they be shredded meat".

dropping a client

this is an absolute most extreme last resort, but i bring this up since we're on the topic of difficult clients and this particular stage isn't spoken about often. no artist wants to up and drop a client, but sometimes it's better for all parties involved instead of dragging out a bad experience. dropping a client could result from a variety of factors, including: the artist is retiring from art, something has come up in the artist's life and they are unable to continue, a client has become abusive, or an agreement cannot be made on a project or the project has caused a conflict of interest between the artist and the client. if you must drop a client, you could say: - "I apologize, but for [insert reason] I cannot continue with this project. I will be [refunding / partially refunding] this project." If it's for medical reasons, you can say "due to a medical complication, I am unable to continue" - and leave it at that. Your client does not need elaboration on your private medical information. The same goes for private family matter or other personal issue. artists shouldn't let guilt eat at them if they are physically incapable of completing a project due to personal reasons. things happen, life happens. the vast majority of your clients will be understanding and appreciate that you reached out to them to address the situation instead of leaving them in limbo. If you have to drop a client because they're being genuinely abusive and hostile and not respecting you, your time, or your work, you can say the same thing as above. There's zero need to retaliate or be hostile back. The situation will likely make you feel awful, sure, but firmly staying professional is the best thing you can do. When issuing a refund, always specify when the client should expect their refund to arrive. "A refund has been issued and will be processed through [insert payment method] shortly." or "A refund will be issued on [insert date]."

This wound up long anyway despite my effort to shorten it, but ah well.

If you'd like more elaboration on something, don't hesitate to ask! Some sections did get pruned down in my futile effort to keep it short, so things might've ended up a bit vague or convoluted [my apologies].

[hana-no-seiiki]

I’ve been stuck on this idea. Jinx reader with the batfam…I know you had it in your master list and I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Maybe when the reader was little, they doodled and made little trinkets like powder. So I’m thinking that the reader doodled on batmans tools. Kinda like how powder/jinx made their weapons with faces on them.

So maybe Batman and the rest of the boys were gone and reader snuck into the bar cave and started doodling on their masks and weapons.

And just another thought 😅

When reader is older, they become a vigilante, causing chaos for the fun of it but also doing it for good. They also move out when they were a kid, because maybe Batman called then a jinx (I’m really going for the arcane storyline 😭😭😭)

Maybe the batfam tries to bring her back, but she just kinda runs away laughing while throwing glitter bombs 😭😭😭

Just something I thought of

I don’t usually write reader as childhood friends with the guys here unless it’s cat villain (which is more like childhood rivals) so this is quite the change.

In my og storyline which i have semi spoiled and will spoil some more here : Jason and Jinx! Reader were part of a found family and Jason having a massive crush on reader gave them tools to make explosives they really shouldnt have. Which is kind of poetic knowing how he ‘dies’.

I’m not sure if this ask is platonic or romantic so I’ll just go with my preference, the latter.

this is just a little snippet since i started working on jinx reader again huhu wanna save the juicy stuff for that one

Jinx! Reader was known as the runt of the litter among Bruce’s adopted children. Physically weak, above average in smarts but nothing compared to the rest. The only thing they had going for them was their skill with firearms which Bruce heavily discouraged and admonished the practice of.

Jason and you bonded with rebelling against him. He’d often bring you out to abandoned arcades that you two would repair from scraps you found in the Batcave. Dude was down atrocious. He kept bringing you to missions purely because he couldn’t resist your face. Sure he was snarky at times, but your common upbringing made him more soft around you. (Sometimes he purposely puts you in situations where you’d get caught just so he can ‘save’ you. The way you hold unto him for dear life is…simply exhilarating)

But try as he might, he could never fill the hole you had in your heart. Your desire for a complete family. For validation. For Bruce to finally acknowledge your worth. For Damian to stop calling you a fucking waste of space.

You ended up screwing a mission so badly that you indirectly killed dozens of Gotham citizens.

Usually you would just compromise their positions during patrols but this was… this was something irreversible. Something that affected friends, families, actual living breathing people.

Bruce had a tight cap on his emotions, but he just couldn’t stop himself from taking out his anger, grief and frustration out on you.

Dick and Jason managed to pull him back before he could hurt you beyond a punch to the face, but the psychological damage had already been cemented.

You run away, running into Harley Quinn.

But instead of following the path my og jinx reader did, Joker wasn’t there to fuck with your head even further. So you sought to repay for your sins.

Still, the screams. The way Bruce called you useless, a jinx. The memories of being neglected and inferior.

Sometimes chaos was the only way to make it shut up.

[cloverhasnobrain]

I never really post serious stuff but I really need to vent this, I don't think anyone would understand and I just need advice. Any hate will be blocked, don't waste my time or yours. Trigger Warning: mental health stuff and AI addiction.

I'm becoming a fierce AI hater, and not even because of all the Many Valid Reasons Such As It Sells Your Data And Is A Plagiarism Machine, but because it's so purposefully addictive.

I'm an easily addicted person going through a pretty uncertain time in my life and recently moved states, I used to use character ai before I knew its environmental effects and now I wanna quit but just

I can't.

I don't have friends. I don't have anyone to share my interests with and it used to be a coping mechanism but now it's an addiction and I can't stop because fuck life is so lonely.

We don't understand the sheer level of dopamine that shit releases, it's tik tok but worse, and now I can't quit and I hate it.

If you've never used it, don't use it. If you use lightly, stop using it. If you're like me, good luck. I'm trying to quit, if I can, so can you. Don't let those fucking bots destroy our environment because we are internet addicts, okay?

I'm also taking tips if anyone has them on how to get better outlets and stop using that shit. It's like a drug.

[slxtarchive]

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 … after a failed movie night that dylan had forgotten, you were upset and a bit irritated with dylan. even though your feelings were valid, dylan felt your attitude needed to be dealt with.

✮ … “honestly, just forget it dylan. we’ll do it another day.” you grumbled, walking away into the kitchen and attempting to clean up what you had set up.

he sighed. “no yn, we can still do it.” he followed behind you. “i’m sorry! why are you so angry?” he put his hands up to run through his hair.

you turned around sharply. “because how does someone forget their own plans? i did so much today. i cleaned the whole house up and then cooked for our night together just for you to forget i existed?” yeah, maybe you were going a bit overboard but your eyes sparkled with mischief as you kept going. “to me that’s just insane.”

he looked at the ground clenching his jaw. “i said i was sorry yn. i lost track of time and we just — we were working on new music i just—”

you interrupted his apology with a scoff. “yeah, that’s always your excuse.” you rolled your eyes which caught his attention. “you can remember multiple song lyrics and shit for your shows but not plans that you planned with your girlfriend? okay.”

his tongue poked through his cheeks as his patience wore thin. “i’ve already apologized. what the hell else do you want me to do?! time travel?” he crossed his arms.

you rolled your eyes once again. “oh i don’t know dylan! maybe actually care?” your sarcasm ripped through the tension rising up and slapped dylan in the face.

that was when dylan stood up and walked over towering over you. he let out a deep breath through his nose trying to regulate his irritation. “okay. you’re testing me.” his tone was harsh but low and steady.

your heart started racing as he got close but you still kept going. “aww am i?” you put your hands on your hips not backing down trying to tease which didn’t quite work out.

dylan wasted no more time and grabbed you by the waist pulling you flush against his own body. before you could even speak his lips connected with yours in an angry but passionate kiss.

you gasped as he claimed you with his tongue pushing your head back and taking the dominant role of the kiss. the kiss was filled with frustration and passion leaving you breathless. your hands made their way to his chest as if to push him back but ultimately ended up clutching his shirt pulling him closer.

he muttered against your lips. “you’ve had a lot of shit to say today huh?” he took your face in his hands continuing to kiss you fiercely. “mm but it’s time i shut you up because you’re saying a little too much.”

your lips were irritated and red as he pulled back surveying your face. he grinned as you stood there looking at him with awe. he pecked your lips once noticing the flush on your cheeks. “still mad at me?” he purred, pouting so that he teased you.

you gritted your teeth but could barely get the word ‘maybe’ out enough for him to hear. your thick brick wall of attitude faltered the more he stared you down.

his hands gripped your waist harshly before muttering in your ear, “m’gonna change that.”

you gasped as he picked you up and brought you down onto the couch settling in between your legs. he took off his shirt and by then you had already been in great need of him. your arousal was dripping and pooling in your underwear.

you whined for him to take them off by tugging on them. he looked down at your fingers desperately clutching at your panties. “okay okay baby.” his hands reached down to take them off but instead he just moved his two middle fingers and slid them across your soaked cunt. “how badly do you need me?”

you whined, “just touch me.” you groaned clutching at his bare back.

“beg for it. beg for me, yn. be a good girl now and beg.” his tone was demanding as he lightly coated your clit in your own arousal.

your chest was moving up and down in anticipation of that much-needed pleasure you needed. you were stubborn refusing to beg but you felt his fingers lightly graze your entrance. he inserted one finger slowly before immediately taking away that warmth.

you sighed in dissatisfaction rolling your eyes at his antics. he tutted, “c’mon. all you need to do is beg and say please.”

you bit your lip trying to stand your ground but the more time that went by the needier you felt. dylans expression was patient with a slight gleam in his eye knowing you’d eventually give in.

you whimpered before whispering in response. “mm — please, touch me.” you felt small as he settled his body over yours with his left arm propping himself up and high right hand still ghosting over your sex.

he licked his lip before smiling. “what a good girl for me.” he praised before entering two fingers deep inside you. your lower lip dropped and your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his fingers move inside you smoothly.

he curled them at just the right spot which caused your head to lift and a short gasp to escape your lips. he then used his thumb to move over your clit as well. fucking talented.

he wasn’t gentle at all. he was quick and harsh with his actions. “taking my fingers so good huh? this what you wanted? wanted me to touch you this bad?” the squelching of his fingers entering you in and out were practically the only sounds in the room besides your gasps and moans and dylan’s filthy words. “i’ll give you my cock but you’re gonna be screaming my name by the time i’m done with you. already so wet and ready for me might as well.”

he follows his words by kneeling on his knees in front of you and undoing his belt. the clinking of the buckle chasing your heart to race. all your senses were heightened just anticipating what he’d do.

as soon as he freed himself from his pants and boxers his thick hard erection sprung out. he pumped himself a few times before lining himself wasting absolutely no time thrusting into you in one go. “fuck yeah — so fucking warm for me." you tried to speak up but choked on your own spit gasping at the strong thrusts you were receiving. "so this is how i get you to shush?”

the way your walls wrapped around his cock had him wanting to cum on the spot but he held it back wishing to bring you to your orgasm first. he straight away got to thrusting in and out of you with no mercy — no remorse. the skin to skin slapping was like music to his ears as well as your responsive moans and groans.

your eyes were clenched shut at the pleasure that was shooting through your body. your hands reached out to grab a hold of anything but were unsuccessful. your hands moved around lost and with nowhere to go but you didn’t notice because of the ecstasy you were about to endure. “yes oh shit — dylan don’t stop please, don’t stop.”

dylan put a hand through his hair with a grin. “don’t plan on it, baby.”

a few seconds later that familiar feeling in your lower stomach just about snapped with no warning causing your thighs to shake and your walls to close around dylan’s cock. he felt that familiar feeling too knowing exactly when you hit that edge. “yeah there you go. come on my cock. m-milk that shit.” he groaned loudly as he came with you. his cream coating your walls shamelessly.

after that wave, he barely held himself up from collapsing onto you. he then couldn’t hold himself up anymore and slowly settled his head in the crook of your neck.

minutes passed by before dylan moved onto his elbows propping himself up so he was just inches away from your face. he saw the sweaty look you had on and laid there just admiring you.

you sighed as you opened your eyes to see his burning into yours. you smiled lightly but got nothing in return.

you were about to question what was wrong when he spoke up. “i’m really sorry for forgetting yn.” a look of shame and guilt was written all over his face as he brushed back the hairs that were sticking to your forehead.

you took a deep breath. “i’m sorry for snapping at you and being rude.”

he smiled before placing a light kiss on your forehead. “m’gonna make it up to you. tomorrow night, snacks, food, drinks, cozy set up, and your choice of a film. how does that sound?”

you giggled at his efforts. “sounds amazing, deal.”

you snuggled him closer cuddling for a few more minutes enjoying each other presence.

© slxtarchive

[mjonthetrack]

O10

Pensacola,Fl

Jey sat behind a scope, he hadn’t been behind a sniper since his times in the marines. Roman had him on some mission to take out some single actor for him, in exchange five mil was waiting for his bank account upon successful operation. The man was supposedly hiding behind aliases, constantly encroaching on Roman’s patience, having killed some of his men he had to go. Jey stretched his neck not getting a good shot he packed up his sniper and was on the move closing in on the tall building.

Jey followed the instructions coming from his earbud. He was up the fire escape, pausing long enough to add a silencer to his gun moving in smooth stealth. He waited for someone to come out an elevator and went in the private elevator pressing the right number and he was up and in front of a set of doors. Jey kicked his way in, he froze seeing the figure of his target in another room. The man stood distracted on his phone, Jey froze when he realized who it was he tilted his head as a new accent came up naturally the British voice cleared the air,”come out the shadows, surely you aren’t that fucking stupid Marine.”

Jey kept put in the shadows, waiting for his lack of presence to anger the skinny male who sighed slicking the safety off his own gun,”you won’t win this, I’m afraid you have made your last mission a failure, shame I expected more from your cousin than bringing in some street trash.” David stepped out of the room and stood by a pillar hiding,”you know when I get out of here and your blood is spilled onto this floor I’m going to find Marcella and I’m going to turn that pretty little bitch out, her sisters too.”

Jey yelled out revealing himself,”pussy ass step out and face me, I knew I should’ve wasted your ass at that fucking party.” David chuckled deeply his original accent coming out,”oh you were lucky I have a cover to keep in tact, as far as I can tell you are dealing in some serious crimes, I have to press one button and this whole place will be surrounded.” David hummed amusingly walking by the man as if he were nothing pouring himself a glass of wine he swished it taking a sip,”I wonder what poor Marcella will think when she realizes the man she helped was really a monster all along.”

Jey gritted his teeth in anger,”what the fuck are you talking about bruh?!” The skinny male laughed boldly,”really it’s just too simple, the cops find you with the same gun that was used to waste her parents, all perfectly pieced together to frame you, I think-,” he snaps his fingers laughing amused,”no I actually know she will never speak to you again, I would even bet all the blood money in those off shore accounts you have,sloppy by the way, that she will hate you and there will never be a chance to be with her.”

Jey cussed out looking around the room for cameras or something, how did he know so much, who the fuck was this guy,he disappeared into the shadows, his gun trained on the male as he tried to find a way out. He froze in realization,”you killed them?” The man laughed taking a last sip of his wine,”give Violet and Marcella my best, I can’t wait to be over there real soon, I haven’t seen their parents in quite some time.” Jey heard Roman yelling at him to get out and he fought his instincts to shoot disappearing out of the area without a trace he’d ever came.

—————————

Marcella was at the home, she was currently sinking in the warm bubble bath she set for herself. She had a glass of sangria and the tablet on her tray playing some episode on Netflix. Her eyes had fell shut, it was the most quiet she’d had all day, her shift was chaotic with two back to back major car crashes. The woman was grateful for the calm cartoon playing, she sunk lower into the bath trying to unwind.

Downstairs Violet was happily sat with David who was laughing watching some show with her in the living room. The male was gently rubbing her feet listening intently on her every word validating the younger woman’s sense of belonging. Saturn sat on the other end of the living room warily staring at the man, she didn’t trust him, her spirit yelled at her not to trust him. The middle sibling glared at the male who offered a small smirk in response.

David kissed the younger woman excusing himself to the restroom, he silently moved through the stairs and was stealthily down the hallway. He was in front of the oldest room, David gently pushed the door open he wandered in looking around the room. He leaned over to look at some photos on her dresser when a firm hand landed on his shoulder and a searing pain shot through his head as his head was slammed into the hard wood of the woman’s dresser.

Jey grinned gripping his hair dragging his head up,”you in my fucking house, in my woman’s room, you playing on my turf, and I’m finna tell you how this gone go Uce.” The tall muscular man was leaning over him, dominating the situation,”you done coming here, if I see you around any of them you’re done, if I see you anywhere near this house I’ll be making applesauce out of your dome, if I so much as catch a trace of your name from her mouth ima put you under the dirt.” Hearing the man let out a low chuckle defiantly Jey slammed his head against the dresser once more,”I don’t think I’m being clear enough, when, I kill you I will assure that there is nothing for the coroner to find or assess, you will be a figment of reality, you think you got this all figured out trying to plant their parents deaths on me, I will find a way to put that gun in your hand like the day you shot it.”

The sound of the safety clicking off a gun made both men freeze, David looked up his eyes widening as his accent went back to American,”Mars, this guy is fucking insane, help me he keeps threatening my life.” Jey froze having been caught in the situation by the woman who aimed the pistol towards the two with shaky hands,”what the fuck is this?!what are you saying?!” Her voice shook as she felt a strange since of rage and fear in her system not recognizing either of the men in front of her. David was on his feet holding his hands up approaching her,” cmon partner put the gun down, we are both victims of this man-.” Marcella cussed out at how her hands were shaking but she glared as the man approached her,”Shut the fuck up!” she yelled out fiercely,”don’t come any fucking closer.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Traitors & Lovers (Hero & Villain) part 3

Warnings: unconsciousness, stress position, cocky cheerful villain being humbled, ally turned enemy, threats being made (the actual torture comes in the next chapter)

She'd lost and she knew it. But she hoped she had what it took to survive whatever came next.

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

Villain awoke with a blasting headache, pain throbbing from her jaw where she'd been socked. But she remembered everything in vivid detail as the fogginess lifted, her mind sharp and alert as the sedatives wore off.

She forced herself to stay calm as she cracked her eyes open, the world slowly coming into focus around her, strength flooding back into her aching limbs. Her heart sank when she noticed the metal shackles on her wrists, attached to two long chains that held her arms spread out to the sides and forced her to stay upright. So that's why her arms hurt so bad -- how long had she been hanging like this?

Villain grunted, getting her feet under her to stand up and relieve the strain on her shoulders, wincing. She looked around to get an idea of where she was, finding herself restrained in a dark, damp cell with iron bars at the front caging her in and concrete walls on the three other sides.

Why would someone want me alive? She pondered, wracking her mind for answers. She'd ticked off a lot of people during her years as a notorious villain -- plenty of people wanted to kill her. But she couldn't think of a single person who'd want her alive.

Unless -- Hero. Could he have really found her after all this time? The thought made her stomach churn with nausea, her chest tight with anxiety. What would she do if she had to face her former lover like this?

She startled when she heard movement behind her, unable to turn her head around enough to look with how she was restrained.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up. For a minute I thought my men might have handled you too roughly and accidently killed you." The voice was frighteningly familiar -- though it wasn't the one Villain was expecting.

"...Supervillain? " Villain blurted in shock. It was hard to believe, but sure enough, her former ally walked around her to within her line of sight, ducking under one of the chains attached to Villain's wrists. "But -- you had a life sentence! How did you escape?"

"I take it you don't watch the news often," Supervillain said gruffly, his tone cold and emotionless. "If you did, you'd know that one of my henchmen was able to blow up a side of the prison and get me out. It was all over the media. Quite a spectacular show we put on, honestly."

Villain frowned. "But... why did you bring me here? Why go to the trouble of catching me? Are you wanting me to be your accomplice again?"

Supervillain laughed dryly, and Villain felt a knot form in his chest. "Not even a good guess, Vil. I thought you were smarter than this." He gestured to the shackles holding her in place. "Does this send the message to you that I want to be your precious work buddy again?"

"No, of course not," Villain replied with a scoff. "I just don't see what other reason you would have to bring me here alive. You aren't one to waste resources without a valid purpose. So logically me being here will benefit you somehow. I'm just trying to figure out how."

"You know me too well." Supervillain smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, and there was something oddly malicious behind it. "Care to take another guess?"

Villain shrugged lightheartedly, chains rattling with the movement. "I mean, unless I'm a beautiful face to look at and bring you a sense of inner happiness I don't know what else you'd want me for, if not to do business together again."

Supervillain chuckled. "You flatter yourself too much. Never taking anything seriously." He drew a sharp knife from a sheath on his belt, and Villain struggled not to let her eyes dart to it. She couldn't show fear. Instead she stared warily at her ex-partner's face, trying to gauge his intention.

"Supervil--"

"You're a traitor," Supervillain interrupted harshly. "Is it really that hard to figure out???"

Villain's eyes widened with dawning realization. "...You think I sold you out," she breathed.

"You did. I spent months behind bars because you gave me away to Hero." He spat the name like poison. "I know you two were in love. And you betrayed us all when you got in the same bed with him and spilled all our secrets! You led Hero and the others at Agency right to us!"

Guilt gnawed at Villain's conscience. "I'm sorry," she said earnestly, "I didn't know Hero was using me to get to you and the other villains. I... I really thought he cared about me. I didn't intend for you to get caught in the crossfire."

"That's a load of bull and you know it, " Supervillain snarled, pointing the tip of the knife at her chest. "First you betray me, and now you have the sheer audacity to make excuses to justify what you did?!?"

He stalked forward until he was nose-to-nose with Villain, eyes blazing with bitter hatred. "Hero himself is the one who barged in to catch me in my own dang lair after you told him where I was, and Hero will pay the price for that just like you will. So tell me, where. Does. He. Live?"

Villain's face twisted in confusion, and she rolled her eyes. "I don't know where he lives anymore," she lied smoothly. Well, maybe lied. She hadn't checked in on Hero in three years -- he could be living in the house Villain had stayed with him in, or he could have moved elsewhere after she left. But despite everything Hero had done to her, a part of her didn't want to send Supervillain to his doorstep to murder him.

Because you still love him, a nasty voice hissed in her mind. You love the man who broke you and used you as nothing more than a source of information. Who didn't care about you from the start.

Villain snapped back to the present when Supervillain roughly grabbed her jaw in a hand, hissing as his fingers dug into the large bruise formed there.

"I'm not a patient man, as you well know,” he warned gruffly. "I would highly suggest you start talking."

Villain gave him her classic flippant smirk. "Or what? We both know you aren't going to hurt me. We worked together for years -- doesn't that count for something?" She gasped when a slice of pain tore across her cheek, eyes widening at the feeling of warm blood sliding down her skin from a shallow gash Supervillain had opened up.

"You still think I'm playing around?" He growled. "Our past alliance means nothing now. Get that through your thick skull. I don't tolerate traitors -- your life is void. I have no qualms about torturing you to get what I want. You are just another victim in this place -- I have no respect for you."

Villain scanned his face, searching for any sign he was bluffing -- but Supervillain looked like he meant it.

"Oooooh, so scary," she teased. She couldn't help it. Humor was her way to cope. She hissed when Supervillain pressed his knife into her arm, slowly dragging it through her skin in a long line. A shallow gash. A warning to watch her tongue.

"Do you really want to die in this place?" Supervillain growled coldly. "Tell me what I want to know and it'll save you a lot of pain. You two were lovers -- there is no way you don't know where he is. Just give me a location, and once I verify you've told the truth, I'll let you go. Hero will die, that much is set in stone, but you don't have to die too."

Villain gritted her teeth, her face losing its playful edge. "I can't tell you."

"Can't? Or won't?"

"...Won't," she growled defiantly. "You can hurt me all you want but you won't get anything out of it. Go find Hero yourself -- I'm not helping. Period."

Supervillain let out a breathy chuckle. "We will see about that." He ducked back behind Villain, grabbing a large duffel bag and returning to drop it on the floor in front of Villain in plain view. He rifled through it and picked up a blow torch along with a wide, long piece of metal.

"Last chance before the pain starts," Supervillain offered, the blow torch hissing to life as he switched it on and heated up the metal in the blue flame.

"Go screw yourself," Villain barked stubbornly. "I'm not helping you find and kill Hero! That won't change, no matter what you do to me."

Supervillain just smiled. "Well, this will be fun for me regardless. I've been waiting a long time to track you down, Villain, and get back at you for betraying me. Getting you to tell me where Hero is was only a secondary motive for me to catch you."

Villain swallowed nervously, watching the metal start to glow orange as it heated up. She knew exactly where this was going. She'd seen Supervillain torture people before -- she knew his style far too well.

I'm sorry, she whispered in her head, I still love you, Hero, even if most of me hates and will never forgive you. I may die, but I won't give you up. I promise.

One last good deed before death seemed like a noble way to go. Villain had made her peace with the fact that she wasn't getting out of here alive. The least she could do is make sure Hero stayed safe. If she was going to die regardless, she might as well make it count for something.

She screwed her eyes shut when Supervillain finally turned off the blow torch, bringing the glowing piece of metal up to her arm. But she couldn't brace herself for the pain that followed.

Villain screamed as the heat touched her, her skin sizzling and smoking as the metal branded her arm. All her focus narrowed down to the excruciating agony blasting her nerves. She jerked and thrashed in her restraints, but there was nowhere to pull away or retreat that the metal couldn't follow. She couldn't breathe, every shallow breath she managed to suck in leaving her in another raw shriek.

Supervillain dragged the metal across her skin, leaving scalding, raw burns in its wake, and didn't stop until he deemed the metal to be in need of reheating.

Villain gulped in great gasps of air in the brief break she got, chest heaving with panting breaths. But all too soon the metal was being held against her flesh again, burning and burning and burning nonstop.

Blood flooded out before vessels were cauterized by the intense heat, over and over again in a vicious cycle.

It had to have gone on for hours, the torture continuing long after she had screamed herself hoarse.

Supervillain would occasionally pause to repeat his question, asking for Hero's location, but each time Villain resisted, berating him with snark when she could still speak words, and shaking her head when her voice was finally gone from all the screaming, her throat raw and bloody.

Villain's skin was practically sloughing off in so many areas with how badly burnt it was, exposing the bright red flesh beneath. Her legs, arms and torso were covered in vicious welts and blisters.

⏪️ Back     Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

@starz8nk @redwinesupanover @whumpisgoodwhumpislife @theforeverdyingperson @whatwhump

@writing-with-olive @and-we-shake-the-iron-hand

[putschki1969]

Hi Puts, thank you for answering my ask on the reaction from Japanese fans. It's understandable that all of us are left with mixed emotions. I do wonder if you're going to post the link (if you manage to get it) of YKL21? It pains me that Keiko isn't there but a part of me also wants to see how the arrangements are done to accommodate her absence. I want to see if YKL will be able to create those magical harmonies now that their backbone to those sounds is no longer there. I admit to being a little resentful in this regard, and it's probably because I've been listening to her music for years, and have come to admire YK that I truly feel disappointed with her decision. I hope she realises sooner than later how vital Keiko is to the YKL sound and that Keiko is a human and vocalist who has her own sets of aspirations to fulfill. Her desire to be part of YKL does not negate her desire to be part of Kalafina or embark on other goals. Anyway, thank you always Puts and for being patient in answering all the asks~

Hello there!! Before I get to your ask, I'd like to make a general announcement, don't worry, it's not specifically related to you or your message but rather to the entire issue at hand.

A quick heads-up to all of my followers and lurkers:

First of all I'd like to apologise to everyone who has sent an ask on this matter and still hasn't received a reply. I decided to take a break from all of this during the weekend since it was getting mentally draining and I started to seriously neglect some of my real-life responsibilities. Also, if at this point I've not posted a response to your question/message regarding the current situation, then it is likely I never will. Throughout the course of last week, I got way too many repetitive inquiries, I'm sorry to say that I just do not have the time or patience to answer every single one of them. I strongly urge people to just go through my relevant tags (#kalafina reunion, #space craft, #yuki kajiura) and thoroughly inform yourself before you send anything. Trust me, I covered the topic quite extensively and I don't believe you will be left with many (if any) unanswered questions once you have browsed through everything! Then I received a bunch of messages from people who clearly just want to argue with me and I am honestly so tired of them. I've made my stance perfectly clear and I think I have been fair in my assessment. On top of that, I've invested a lot of time clarifying my arguments and discussing the matter in the reply section of my posts. At some point, it's just enough. You don't need to agree with me, it's your prerogative to have a different opinion but there's no point in trying to sway my opinion, you are really just barking up the wrong tree. There are more than enough spaces in this fandom where your thoughts and arguments will be very much appreciated, you do not need to waste your time on my blog. To make a long story short, if you insist on painting Space Craft (and by extension Wakana, Keiko, Hikaru) as the ultimate and sole villain in this shit-show of a situation while simultaneously pretending as if Team Yuki isn't equally at fault for perpetuating all the petty hostilities and stupid rules of this everlasting feud, then I'm sorry to tell you, this is not the right place for you. Over and out.

Re: Anon's Message

Now that all the above stuff is out of the way, I can focus on your message, dear anon. First, let me clarify something. It's 100% okay to be invested in Yuki's activities and to be curious about her future projects. Despite my arguably controversial thoughts on Yuki's role in this feud, I certainly don't want anyone to "cancel" her or to "boycott" her lives in any way. Please continue to love and support her, especially if you've been her loyal fan from the get-go! No one has to ever feel the need to justify their interest in Yuki to me, your devotion is completely valid.

As for me, I stand by what I've always said, I am first and foremost a Kalafina fan, therefore, this blog only covers stuff that is at least somehow related to them. If none of the girls are involved in a project, I am not really motivated to invest my resources into it. People reading my live reports should know that Wakana's absence has already taken away a huge chunk of my enjoyment of YKL, with Keiko gone too now, I just don't see the appeal anymore. Both of them were such an integral part of these live performances, at least for me. There are songs of course that work without them (and those will continue to sound amazing) but I've always enjoyed a majority of music in Yuki's lives BECAUSE of Wakana and Keiko. Their renditions are not the be-all-end-all in this world (often not even the original) but they are the definitive versions engraved in my mind so everything else just doesn't feel right to me.

In short, I will likely not be covering any of the YKL Vol#21 news or provide content related to it. Unless of course there are some surprise changes to the lineup but that's very unlikely. If they end up covering Kalafina songs (Yuki is saying something about having different suites in her lives so the inclusion of a Kalafina-suite is certainly possible), I might consider posting about it but I'll cross that bridge if/when I come to it.

You don't need to worry though, I think there are lots of very passionate YK stans in this fandom who will surely provide everything you are looking for! And it's not like I will be gate-keeping any good sources, if I happen to come across a recording or something, I will definitely let you know. I'll just not go out of my way to invest any money, time or effort into any of it.

Last but not least, I completely agree with your thoughts about Keiko. All we can do is hope that this feud will someday be resolved, otherwise there will always be hostilities and conflicts of interest. As long as there are these two opposing sides and any allegiance to one side will get you shunned from the other side, we'll never know peace.

[allfrogsmatter]

OC Tag game

Thank you for tagging me @elderwisp !! i’m tagging @nelisims @simmlyellie @alxandergoth and @applesaucesims if you want!

I decided to answer for Jen

General

Name: Jennifer Leigh Corcoran

Alias: Jen (when she was little her nickname was Jenny but she grew out of it)

Gender + Pronouns: Cis | She/Her

Age: 17

Spoken Language(s): English and two and a half years worth of high school French

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual (but she doesn’t really have the confidence to date girls right now 💔)

Occupation: High school student

Favorite

Color: Purple! She has always been a purple girly, pink is too on-the-nose and purple just feels mellower. She really likes lavenders and softer purples that still feel very feminine, but not quite as girly as pinks (or at least that is how those colors resonate with her). She is also fond of soft blues and pastels in general.

Entertainment: She's always down for some good trashy TV, re-binging Dance Moms with her mom or judging the men on The Bachelorette. She also enjoys dramatic teen shows like Euphoria or Riverdale, especially when they're at least a little absurd. Her secret indulgence is true crime and conspiracy shows, things like Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural or Finding Bigfoot. She's also quite a geek for Star Wars and re-watches them with her brother all the time. In terms of music, she listens to a lot of Olivia Rodrigo (she and Chiquita both!), Renee Rapp, Billie Eilish, Lizzy McAlpine, and Chappell Roan

Drink: She loves an iced oatmilk latte or a Dr Pepper depending on time of day. Redbull she drinks religiously but is trying to cut back. -Pastime: As far as activities, she's co-captain of the cheer team which she loves. She's cheered since she was little and is in it for the sport of cheering, not to cheer on the boys' teams. In her free time, she is actually quite a geek so plays a number of video games. Most frequently its Minecraft with her little brother.

Food: She's not quite a health nut, but with cheer and her whole 'pretty girl' look she tends to lean healthy in food. She enjoys a good salad- and trying new salads (she splits cooking duties with her mom so it's always a battle trying to find meals that are both good for them and appease her picky brother). Especially something with quinoa or couscous. She really likes fruit, especially mangoes and strawberries, smoothies and frozen yogurt, and her guilty pleasure is salt and vinegar lays.

Have they…

Passed University: No, but she has applied

Had sex: Yes

Had public sex: No

Got tattoos: Not yet, but she has a pinterest board with ideas for when she's a little older

Got scarred: Mostly just little scrapes and scratches that fade slowly. She does have one bigger scar on her leg from the time her brother left scissors in her bed and she didn't know (scissors have been banned from bedrooms)

Had a broken heart: No. She has thick skin and tends to protect herself before it can get to that point, but her heart has definitely taken damage in the past (and currently is.. thanks Reed). She's pretty used to being the girl every guy wants but no one wants seriously, so when it works out that way again it hurts, but it doesn't surprise her.

Are they…

A cuddler: Yes and no… It depends on her mood. Sometimes she just wants her space, but if she's feeling insecure or lonely she gets touchier, wanting that validation. -Jealous easily: No. She's fairly independent, so isn't intimidated when other people (especially romantic interests) are independent as well. She's pretty confident in herself, so doesn't fall victim as much to jealousy towards the people around her who have things she doesn't. And if someone does give her cause for jealousy, she's more prone to being irritated at them for wasting her time or leading her on. -Trustworthy: Yes! Despite often coming across as a mean girl, she actually is very trustworthy. Sure if you piss her off really bad she could ruin your life, but she never will. She knows what the fallout of gossip and rumors can look like and she honestly doesn't ever want to be the reason someone is going through that, even if they might deserve it.

Family

Siblings: She has one half-brother, Nathan, who is seven. They have different dads but the same mom and have always been close. Jen is a very good sister to Nathan, she's helped take care of him since he was born and she loves to spend time with him (even though he can be obnoxious). They play Minecraft together, they do Star Wars marathons on the weekends, and he lets her help build his lego sets sometimes.

Parents: Jen and her brother are raised by a singe mother, their mom Valerie. She works two jobs to support them as she puts herself through nursing school. She had Jen young and got married right away. Jen's dad, Grant, was young too and the marriage didn't last very long. They divorced when Jen was six or seven and her dad moved to Colorado, so she doesn't see him much. Her mom has had boyfriends, including Nathan's dad, but none of them have stuck.

Children: None, but she wants to have children one day.

Pets: They live in an apartment that doesn't allow pets, but there is a cat that tends to roam near their building and they and a few other neighbors take turns buying cat food to put out.