#tagging characters that also do this in my head shut up I'm coping

[homicidal-slvt]

*Completes any mundane task* Wow, I'm so pussypower girlboss

[the-shadowsingers-whore]

warning: i'm about to be controversial

so i very rarely talk about controversial acotar opinions (i.e. gwynriel vs elriel) outside of mumblings in my own tags bc i don't really feel like arguing with people. i'm just here to have a good time and talk about books, but for some reason the acotar fandom can get real heated (and low key toxic) sometimes.

that being said....

i can't not talk about nesta.

i know so many people do not like acosf and absolutely hate nesta, but honestly i think her character is so real and validating to a lot of people.

yes, her behavior in acosf (and also acofas) is absolutely not okay and she is horrible to so many people. and while that's not cool in any regards you have to remember: she is suffering

her entire life was turned upside down and then she went through a shit ton of traumatic, gruesome events all in like a month or two. she didn't even have time to come to terms with her new body/new world before she experienced some of the worst things possible (not to count the terrifying powers she knows she has, but doesn't know how to control).

so she reacts by coping in horrible ways. as people do before they learn how to handle their trauma in healthy ways.

and before you come at me and say "well everyone else has experienced trauma and didn't act like that" i would like to remind you that all of them have had their moments before finally starting to heal. elain turned into a shell of a person, not eating or doing anything for months. cassian literally slaughtered dozens of people and decimated an entire village when he found out what happened to his mom.

i'm not excusing her behavior in any way shape or form. but i have such a deep appreciation for the way her character is written and how much she struggles to heal. the inside look into her thoughts and feelings is so validating.

i think a lot of people felt so seen reading some of things nesta thinks about herself/her life (i know i did). here are just a couple examples of times when i was reading that i actually had to stop for a moment bc the words hit a little too hard.

"i am worthless and i am nothing. i hate everything that i am. and i am so, so tired. i am tired of wanting to be anywhere but in my own head." acosf p. 78

she had failed in every aspect of her life. utterly and spectacularly failed, and keeping other from realizing it had been her main purpose. she had shut them out, had shut herself out, because the weight of all those failures threatened to shatter her into a thousand pieces." acosf p. 267

"it scared her more than anything. that utter lack of feeling. how good it had felt, to be so removed." acosf p. 383

like.......damn.

also i know she was a pos to feyre both growing up and throughout most of the books. she's absolutely terrible to her. but, i would like to just point out that people change. and watching her slowly realize her mistakes and start to rebuild her relationship with feyre throughout acosf is really beautiful.

anywhooo i know this post is getting really long, but basically all of this is just to say that i think having a character like nesta is so important to a lot of people. i truly appreciate how sjm writes her characters to be real people with real experiences (minus the magic and horribly gruesome torture) that her readers can relate to.

thanks for actually reading this whole post and if you still don't like nesta that is totally fine (everyone has a right to their own opinions), but please don't bombard me with hate. this is just meant to be me sharing my own thoughts and feelings. 💜

[discowingneckline]

revel in our unrest

Summary: "Dick? You good, man?"

Dick was, in fact, not good. Fuck, this was totally an opening for him to do what he and Dr. Kim talked about him doing: the ever-dreaded boundary setting. He could totally do this.

In which Dick Grayson has had enough of his friends playing into his promiscuous reputation, and he stands his ground and sets some boundaries with them.

Word Count: 7866

Rating: M (Mature)

Pairing: Gen

Warnings: Past Rape/Non-Con, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Victim Blaming, Slut Shaming, Non-Consensual Groping, Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Abusive Relationship (referenced/implied)

Other Tags: Hurt No Comfort, Bittersweet Ending

A/N: I have no idea how tumblr works, so have fun, I guess. I also have an AO3 account where I post things with the same username. Um, I'm just as inconsistent with characters as DC is. This will be getting a follow up in late May/early June as requested by some users on AO3. OH! And this is posted because it's been sitting in my drafts for over a year, but also because April is sexual assault awareness month!

Once again, Dick and the others were waiting for Wally to show up. Dick was leaning back into the booth seat, tossing back as much beer as he could without downing it all in one go. He didn’t want to have to get up just yet to get another. There was some loud techno-pop kind of remix playing, and the others were catching up about their civilian lives while Dick thought back to his most recent conversation with his therapist.

They’d met once-a-month now instead of the bi-weekly, weekly, or twice-a-week appointments. It had started months after Tarantula—or rather after Dick had come to the decision that he wasn’t going to get better if he didn’t get help because he had tried and failed spectacularly. 

Dr. Kim hadn’t been his first therapist, he'd seen another before her. Before her, he had been Dr. Pace, who he had seen for a session two weeks after he’d left Tarantula, but Dick had been scared and ashamed, and he hadn’t gone back for his next session.

He had been sitting to the right of Dr. Kim in a blue armchair, preferring that to the small and comfortable couch across from her. He had put the little fluffy pillow on his lap, pulling at the strands of fabric attached to them as he had worked up what to say. Dr. Kim waited patiently, her notes and pen resting as she looked at her shoes; she never stared him down, and it was an action that made everything less anxiety-inducing. 

Dick had pulled his attention from the pillow, looking at Dr. Kim as he had said, “There’s a get-together with the Titans and Young Justice team, I was invited.”

He’d told her a lot of things: his parent’s murder, being brought in by Bruce Wayne, about being a vigilante, the teams and heroes he’s worked with, the villains and horrible people he’s fought and won and lost to, the other members of his family, and the rapes. It’d been a hard decision to come to, letting Dr. Kim in on the know, but if Dick was going to come and try to figure everything out and how to cope, then he didn’t see the point in lying—if anything, it’d diminish what happened to him. Instead of telling her what happened with Blockbuster and then Tarantula, he’d have to explain away what actually occurred (especially with how televised Blockbuster had been). 

Dr. Kim had kept her comforting presence as he’d told her, not showing any sort of reaction Dick could have taken as being judgmental. She’d learned early on that he was hyper aware of people’s reactions to everything, and then had adjusted herself around him accordingly. Dick had known this anyway—after all, he’d been trained under Bruce’s wing. She had then tilted her head just barely to the side. 

“Invited? D’you think you’ll go?” Dr. Kim had asked, her voice light and inquisitive. 

Dick had shrugged his shoulders, parting his lips to respond before shutting them back up. He hadn’t decided at that point. It had been Kori who invited him, but she invited everyone so he hadn’t taken that as anything. Soon after that though, his phone had been blown up with texts from Donna and Wally talking about it, and he started feeling guilty for thinking about not going. He hadn’t seen them outside of their brief team-ups or saves in costume in months, and the one time he’d be able to see them and everyone else and not be stopping crime or saving the planet would be the party. “Donna and Wally want me to go.” 

He was content to let that just be his answer to block out his own feelings about it, but Dr. Kim raised her eyebrow, challenging his response. Dick huffed, feeling his frustration start to bubble up. He’d always had a temper, and it often came out when he didn’t get what he wanted. “I don’t know,” Dick admitted, poking and prodding at the pillow again and trying to release some of his pent-up energy. “I don’t really want to see some people who’ll be there. They haven’t changed at all, not with me at least.”

“Do you feel like you have to go? For Donna and Wally?”

“Sort of, but it isn’t just them. Everyone expects me to go; I’m the social butterfly, the friendly, forgiving hero.” Dick had said that last part bitterly, spitting the words like if he didn’t just then they’d burn him. 

“Is that what they expect of you? That you’re always friendly and forgiving?” She had already known about this part—the expectations and whatnot because they were inescapable in his life. Dick hadn’t felt the need to answer then, but Dr. Kim’s eyes had been soft and filled to the brim with an understanding that made something in Dick crack. 

“Yeah,” he responded, looking away from Dr. Kim yet again. “But I’m not always nice, everyone knows that, but whenever I’m upset or angry and no one else is, then I become a joke.”

“They don’t respect or acknowledge your feelings that contradicted what they wanted you to feel, and that made you feel like you weren’t important or that you could rely on them as your friends.” Dr. Kim had written something down in her notes then, before asking him another question: “Did you ever have a conversation with them about how they made you feel?”

Dick had shook his head. “I mean, no, not really? But it’s not like I laughed and joked with them, they could see I didn’t find it funny.” He also would try playing it off and changing the subject, and that worked on occasion, but not often enough, which just left Dick feeling hurt when he should be feeling content at the very least. That’s what he was worried about really, was getting hurt again when he should be having a good time.

And like she could read his mind, Dr. Kim had spoken up again, “And that happened a lot? Are you afraid that anytime you’re with them, that you’ll be brushed off and laughed at?” 

Dick had sat there, picking at the pillow, biting the inside of his cheek while he avoided answering the question, but that was an answer in and of itself. He knew that, Dr. Kim knew that, and the two had been enveloped in a thickening silence. He had hated the invisible wall that was being built, it had made him squirm in his seat and speak up again. “Yeah, I don’t know if they actually like me or if they just like the idea of what I’m supposed to be. I just want to be me and have people like me for who I am and respect me for who I am.”

“You don’t let a lot of people in. From our other talks, you bring up that you’ve been a leader, that you’re the oldest of your siblings…and you don’t want to tell Bruce or any of the other older heroes because you don’t want to be rejected or hurt again like what’s happened with your teammates, and you don’t want them to think you’re weak or poison,” Dr. Kim had started, getting a sympathetic look on her face. It had made Dick anxious for what else she had to say. “Dick, it’s okay to be vulnerable with people and let them in, and you don’t have to spill every dark and gritty thing you’ve been through, but keeping people at arm’s length because you’re scared you’ll get hurt will only keep you from making those kinds of connections you want.”

“I know, I just…it’s just hard.”

“Do you miss those people—the ones you can’t be yourself comfortably with?”

“Yeah, we all used to be really close, and we’re still close; we all just have more responsibilities, and life got busy, and then stuff happened, and we all just drifted a bit,” Dick had explained, shaking his head. It was all true; they’d gotten older, got a day job, and some had started families, making it all the harder to see each other. They all still talked on the phone when they could, met up outside of their night jobs when they could, and that was just the way of getting older. 

And Dick still wanted to be friends with some of his former teammates, they were good people, but he didn’t want to be “friendly” teased about his looks, flexibility, or sex life. Sometimes, he didn’t mind it, like when he’d be practicing, but it’s less of practice and more like breathing and flying and performing, but when he was just trying to exist? When all he wanted was to hang out and have a fun time with his friends? Yeah, that wasn’t nice.

“And I mean, I like people—I like lots of different kinds of people,” Dick had added, “And it sucks that they don’t get that I don’t like their comments about me, and we get along otherwise. They care about me, I know they do, and I care about them and their lives. I just…” He had huffed, shrugging his shoulders and taking a new, big interest in the snake plant by the window. 

Adonis, the club Kori had set up the little reunion at, was the typical, run-of-the-mill club in Jump City. There were different social levels to it, one for the average Joe, another for celebrities, and another for the club’s private investors and the secret little club. They were on the first level, the main one, really, with all the people who were just trying to have a fun time on a Friday night.

They had a corner booth table, off the side of one large dance floor and near the main bar. Dick sat next to Donna, with the latter being on the inside of the seating and next to Victor, Garfield and Raven. Roy was sitting across from Dick with space next to him for someone else to sit and next to him was Kori. Wally had yet to show up still, but it was common knowledge that all the speedsters were late to everything. There were some rounds of drinks at the table, though Roy’s was dry being both the designated driver and being very cautious around this kind of stuff. 

Dick himself had a Heineken that he was taking a swig of every-so-often. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t a huge fan of alcohol, and when he did drink it was normally a few beers with friends and not fruity drinks.

“Hey, guys, sorry I’m late!” came a familiar voice. Dick turned his head from staring at his drink to looking at his best friend. Wally was in a red shirt with a blue jean jacket on top, and he had pants almost as tight as Dick’s. There wasn’t really a moment of hesitation from Dick standing up and giving Wally an one-armed hug. The two parted quickly, and Dick sat back down where he’d been while Wally took a seat next to Roy. Wally looked around the table, leaning back into the booth. “What’d I miss? What were you guys talking about?” 

“Nothing important, dude,” Garfield started, “Just catchin’ up. Roy was just about to tell us how Lian’s doing.”

“Yeah, man, how’s the kid?” Victor asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Roy smiled a bit, “She’s doing good. Little squeaker just started learning to skateboard. Got one for her birthday. You ever have to chase down a kid to get her to put her helmet, knee pads, and elbow pads on? More work than a drug bust.”

“Who ended up on babysitting duty?” Wally asked.

“Ollie and Dinah,” he answered. “ Lian likes spending time with them, and they spoil her rotten. Last time I picked her up, Ollie had pink and purple sparkle glue in his hair.” And that got some laughs out of everyone. Dick could imagine that well, the last time he saw Lian—God, that’d be well over a year ago—she was very adamant about what her Uncle Dick was supposed to say at her superhero tea-picnic party. 

“It’s great to hear,” Donna said. “Kori, Raven, let’s go dance and let the boys do their own thing. It’s been too long since I last saw you both.”

“If I have to,” Raven replied monotone. She had a small smile on her face though, so Dick assumed she couldn’t be too put off by the idea.

“Yes, please,” Kori exclaimed, then she looked at the rest of them, “if you would…”

Wally, Roy, Garfield, and Dick all got out of the booth, letting them out to go off to dance. 

“Don’t have too much fun without us!” Garfield called out to Donna, Kori, and Raven as they walked off. The guys sat back down where they had been, leaving the spaces the girls sat at free. Roy and Wally were talking back and forth, and Victor started talking to Garfield about some new tech he was coming up with.

It was the perfect time for Dick to go and get himself another drink, seeing as his just emptied. “I’ll be right back,” he said, scooting out of the booth and standing back up once again. “Need anything from the bar?” The four other men all said something along the lines of no, and so Dick left them to their own devices.

The walk to the bar wasn’t that long in reality, but it felt like several minutes with all the maneuvering he had to do around groups and the occasional stumbling shitfaced patrons. There were a few open seats at the end, and instead of sitting down at the seat, he stood to the side of one furthest away from any other people. 

There was a man bartending with a woman, though it had been the man who had seen him. The bartender made a few drinks for a couple of women down the bar, flashing them a couple of amused smiles and nodding along to whatever they were talking about. After, the man came down to Dick.

“What can I get for you tonight?” the bartender asked smoothly, hands resting on the edge of the counter as he waited for Dick to answer. For all intents and purposes, he was just about to—

“Hiya, handsome,” a honeyed voice cooed, turning Dick’s attention away from trying to order. The voice belonged to a young woman, with blonde hair in pretty curls and a clip holding some of it back. Her make-up was intricate and flattering to her pale complexion and brown eyes, and it went well with the tight red dress she wore that gripped at her skin. She leaned forward a bit, angling herself towards him. “You here alone or d’ya got some friends around?”

Dick blinked, keeping a firm grip on the cash in his hand. He didn’t want to answer, all he wanted was to get a drink and go back to seeing everyone, but maybe the girl would back off if she saw Donna or Kori, not that there was anything there to see, but… “With friends,” he said, looking over in the direction of the group.

He totally forgot that both Donna and Kori had gone off to dance together, but Raven was back in the booth. Raven was leaning her head on Beast Boy, having apparently barely been out dancing before coming back and listening as Wally was explaining something with lots of hand motions and jerky movements. Victor looked halfway intrigued and somewhat amused, and Roy had his eyebrows raised, but Roy wasn’t paying attention to Wally, he was looking straight at him. Raven and Garfield caught on, and followed Roy’s sight to him. 

The woman gave the group a little excited wave, before looking back up at Dick with her head tilted to the side. “I’m Brittany, ya got a name, baby?” 

“I do,” Dick said, furrowing his eyebrows and looking back at the bartender who was waiting on him. “Can I get another Heineken, please?” 

Dick slid the cash he had over, and the bartender picked it up, though just as the man was about to go and get what he ordered, Brittany interrupted, “Can I get another Piña Colada, please? And can you put it on my tab?”

“Sure thing,” the bartender said, walking down a bit to get their drinks. Brittany turned her head to look back at Dick.

“C’mon, you don’t gotta be all Mr. Mysterious with me,” she teased, stirring her almost empty drink lightly with a straw. Brittany gazed at him through her eyelashes. “Here, I’ll guess: hm, Tyler?” She must’ve seen something on his face or taken his lack of answer as her being wrong, because Brittany continued on, “Josh? Mason?”

“Dick.”

“D’ya live ‘round here, Dick?” Brittany moved a hand off her drink and onto Dick’s. The motion of her finger’s brushing over his hand made him slightly tense up and his stomach churn. He moved his hand back a bit, trying to shake her off and signal that he wasn’t cool with any of this, but her hand followed and stayed on his. His body tensed up more, and he squirmed a bit to try and loosen up. 

Touch was finicky for him now; he was most comfortable with initiating it first, and for the people close to him, he was okay with them touching him as long as he knew it was coming on most days. He didn’t like being touched without seeing it coming, and he definitely didn’t like when people touched him without his consent.

“Not really,” he replied, hoping to keep this conversation short. He gave her a tight-lipped smile, trying to ease his own discomfort. Hopefully, she’d take the hint and back off; he really didn’t want any of this while trying to hang out with his friends. Maybe if he moved his hand back some more…

“S’okay, I’ve gotta place a couple blocks down—it’s got a nice bed, but a girl gets lonely, y’know?” Before Dick could respond, the bartender set his beer down in front of him and gave Brittany hers. He gave a stiff nod to the bartender as thanks, and started to move back from the counter. 

Now that he wasn’t waiting on his drink, it should be easy to just brush Brittany off and sit back down with his old team. Key word: should. Despite Dick being dubbed The Boy Hostage, and the countless times he’s escaped after being tied up, he quickly realized that it still wouldn’t be very easy to brush Brittany off. He took maybe five steps before he had to stop. She skipped ahead a few steps before spinning to face him directly. When he moved to the side to go past her, Brittany simply moved in front of him to block him. 

“C’mon,” she whined, tilting her head to her side and acting coy, “Don’t leave me hangin’ for realsies. I’m sure ya friends won’t mind if you and me go back to mine.” At that, she turned to look over her shoulder and at his friends, and he followed her gaze, seeing Roy and Gar grinning at his plight. Great.

“See, baby,” Brittany said, bringing her free hand up to stroke his arm. He didn’t bother to move this time, too caught up in his friends teasing him up ahead. She moved closer to him so their bodies were ever so slightly touching. Dick couldn’t tell if he was hearing his heartbeat or if it was hers. Does this place have air conditioning? They should turn it on because he can hardly even brea—and he needs to keep his eyes on his friends and not at her (though did he even really want to be there, too?) Brittany playfully pouted, moving her arm to poke at his cheek. “Get outta ya head, baby. Me and you could have lotsa fun, whaddya say?” 

Apparently, Dick didn’t respond to her touch or words quick enough for her taste, because she tilted his head a little bit and kissed the side of his jaw. He was jolted from his thoughts and he looked at Brittany briefly before looking up and at the walls for some sign for the men’s restroom. God, he’s going to puke. 

“Uh, no thanks I’m just…gonna, um.” Dick gulped, his eyes darting back and forth between her and wherever the fuck the restroom was. Why was it so hard to find a bathroom in a fucking club? And was it raining outside, he could have sworn he heard rain, but that wasn’t on the forecast for tonight because he checked. Dick kept looking for a few more seconds before giving up. If he could make it back to his friends, then Dick could force himself to calm the fuck down and everything would be fine. 

And then there was a hand squeezing his ass.

Everything was not fine, everything was going to shit. It was going to happen again and how pathetic was he if he was just going to let it happen again. He just needs a second to think and a second to calm down. And the woman was saying something, but God she didn’t even look like anything anymore, and he used his hand to force hers off. Dick feigned moving to the left, and as she moved to block him again, he moved to the right and started swiftly making his way back to the table his friends were occupying. 

She was calling out to him, saying some sort of nonsense he couldn’t make out. And Dick didn’t turn back to see if she was following him, he didn’t want to know. Not too long once he started his way back to the table he was sitting back down. Donna and Kori had come back from dancing not a moment after he arrived, and they squished him towards the wall side of their booth.

Dick barely had time to get comfortable where he sat before the interrogation and teasing started. Unsurprisingly, it was Gar who started it, even the comedian even after all these years. 

“Who’s the pretty lady you were talking to?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Roy hummed in agreement, nodding his head at Dick.

“Yeah, man, be brave and bold, and spill,” Wally chimed in.

When Dick glanced over to Kori, he saw her posture shift. Their relationship didn’t end on too horrible of terms in the very end—clearly not, if they could stand to not only trust each other in the field, but also spend time together outside in civvies. The topic of lovers and relationships, however, had mostly been off the table for discussion. Kori definitely didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say about when they were still active members of the Teen Titans, and she definitely didn’t need to know about the whole fiasco with Barbara and how he severely fucked that up. Dick didn’t want to hear about what Kori had been up to, not that he didn’t want her to be happy or disapproved of any short-lived flings, but he still cared a lot about her and got caught up on all the what ifs. Like, would they have had a kid by now had they stayed together? Would Lian have had a cousin to play with?

He spun his beer around a few times before gulping some down. It did no good thinking about all the what-ifs, and that was something he knew before he started therapy. Dick shrugged, looking back over to Garfield. “Not much to say,” Dick replied, spinning the beer around again but the other way. “I’m not here to hook-up with anyone.”

“That’s new,” Roy snorted, putting his arm on the table and tapping his fingers a bit. Dick’s lips twitched down just barely, but he didn’t realize fast enough to stop before the other’s noticed.

“Hey, man, we’re just messin’ with you,” Victor added.

“Yeah, nothin’ wrong with givin’ into your nature,” Garfield said. Yeah, because sleeping with every man, woman, and adult person was totally Dick’s nature and not something people came up with on their own. 

He’d thought back to when he was glued to his bed, stuck in his thoughts for days just there. The whole womanizer thing started at one of the richy-rich Bristol galas when Bruce wasn’t Bruce but Brucie, and Dick’s own persona was charming and people-pleasing. People commented on how handsome he was getting, making their predictions of how he’d turn out in a couple more years. He’d get all the ladies in Gotham, following in his mentor’s footsteps, surely, they’d say. Yeah right, it figured the people who’d tease him like that would later get tied up and left to be arrested from the company they kept. 

“I wasn’t interested,” Dick ended up saying, “I came here to catch up with you guys; it’s been too long.”

“Not for lack of trying. You’ve been off in Blüdhaven and keeping busy with your night job,” Donna pointed out, taking a sip of whatever it was she had gotten. He knew she didn’t mean it in a condescending way, but it still stung a bit. He took another drink to hide his hurt. 

“We mean no offense, Dick,” Kori continued for Donna, seeing right through Dick. “It can be hard, juggling it all.”

“I can understand the masochist appeal of running yourself to the bone,” Raven jumped in still as monotone as always.

Dick shrugged again, looking away from them and to the DJ. He veered them off from digging into him enough, maybe he’d be able to convince someone to go out and dance a bit with him. Just enough until they end up going back to Titans Tower to crash. His mouth started running before he could think about just what to say, “That’s kinda why I’m here, isn’t it? To have fun? Someone dance with me. Donna? Wally?”

A few of them gave him a look he didn’t bother to decipher, but they relented nonetheless and they were off.

———

They made it back to Titans Tower sometime around 2:30am after the club closed for the night. Dick had several beers and some water throughout the night; not enough to really forget much of anything, and not too much that he had any trouble walking and talking. If he had been out on his own, he definitely wouldn’t have gone to a club. Dick would’ve settled for Noonan’s, got shitfaced, maybe gotten into a fight, and had gone home to wallow before realizing that it would be the main topic of his next session with Dr. Kim.

Instead of everyone splitting up to go sleep in their old rooms, Kori offered up the idea for them to have a sleepover in one of the old lounge rooms they frequented years ago. There wasn’t much room left for Dick to go against this, not without everyone getting on his case about him wanting to go off on his own. 

He ended up settling into one of the couches, picking up one of the pillows and holding on his lap to poke and prod at. It gave him something to do that wasn’t bouncing his leg or tapping his fingers. Garfield and Kori had run off to one of the kitchens to make some popcorn and grab other snacks after Gar said they should have a movie-marathon, and Wally had been hot on their heels to finally get some food to eat.

“Speedster’s gotta eat, man,” Wally had said, jumping off from where he was next to Dick. 

Donna had gone off next, wanting to get something to drink for the movie and to go with the popcorn and snacks. Roy and Victor stayed on the opposite sides of another couch, with Victor turning the TV on and scrolling through the different streaming services to find a good, easy nostalgic movie to watch. Raven appeared through the doors just then too after she’d separated from the group to grab a black blanket and pillow from her old room. 

There was a groove that they got back into once they got back into the tower, and while the current Teen Titans team members were still in the tower, they’d very easily offered to stay out of a couple of rooms for them to hang out at. Though, a few of them had peeked into the security cameras for a few seconds to get another look at them. Not super surprising; it was increasingly rare that the original team all got back together and for a non-world-threatening event at that. 

That’s all to say everyone doing their own thing before they start a movie marathon was great for Dick. He could take some time to wind down from the night and loosen up enough to actually participate and be present with his friends. Something he should’ve been able to do in the first place, at least more than he’d given them. 

He picked at one corner of the pillow, tugging at the thread that held it all together. Admittedly, he probably should’ve showered before he got back; most of them should’ve, but the other’s hadn’t really wanted to stop catching up just to shower. They’d just do it once they woke up later that morning. He wasn’t too sweaty, but he felt gross. His skin didn’t feel like his own, and if he got the chance to scrub himself down a bit—or maybe a lot—then he would definitely feel better. The logical part of his mind told him this was because of the woman from the club and it was an internal problem he would be having, but the illogical part of his mind told him he was disgusting and that he could never be clean. 

It was his fault, wasn’t it? Somewhere in their conversation Dick must’ve made a mistake and led the girl on. Dick knew he was attractive; it’s all he’s been told his whole life. He also knew that people liked him, like a lot. That was fine, he liked people too for the most part. It was just like with Miriam and Cat. 

But those weren’t his fault. He knew they weren’t. He’d talked enough with Dr. Kim about it that he knew there wasn’t anything he could’ve done. One disguised herself as his girlfriend, the other took advantage while he was in shock. Jesus, Cat was a whole thing, and he still can’t believe it took him so long to get away from her after. But that wasn’t his fault either, because Cat wanted to hurt him and she could, so she did. Dick didn’t tell her to, therefore it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his—

Dick picked at the thread a bit harder, staring at it hard and like it was the source of all his suffering. Maybe it was. Maybe he made it so. Dick bit the inside of his cheek and picked at the pillow again. He’s fine. He’s doing great even. This isn’t the end of the world. He could get through these things like he always had. Though, maybe he should reach out to Dr. Kim about having another session next week just in case. That’s a problem for tomorrow, he didn’t need anyone coming in and looking over his shoulder or someone asking him who he was texting.

He could imagine what’d happen. Someone would tease him, asking if he was talking to some girl or something. A few others might join in and complain that Dick never tells them anything, which is both fair and also not. Kori would get uncomfortable again, Raven would take some amusement from both Kori and Dick’s discomfort. Then Donna would get worried, and it would just be a mess.

Dick picked at the pillow more, but this time the thread started to fray. He inhaled sharply, moving his fingers to a different part of the pillow so he didn’t completely ruin it. Somehow, he managed to not notice the others coming back. Kori stood in front of Dick, holding two bowls of popcorn, one big and one small. Dick laid the pillow face down so it was flat on his lap.

“It has M&Ms in it. You still like them, right, Dick?” Kori asked, handing the smaller bowl to him. Figures as much; Dick’s appetite was that of a bird.

“Yeah, thanks, Kori,” he replied back, giving her a small smile. She smiled back and left to go sit in between Raven and Roy.

Then, seemingly coming from nowhere, Wally crashed down into the spot beside him, leaning into Dick and propping his popcorn bowl in between his legs. He looked at Dick’s bowl, then said, “Still have great taste, I see.” 

Wally shoveled a handful of his popcorn into his mouth as Donna plopped down beside him with her own bowl and a water bottle.  “Jeez, Wally, save some for the movie,” she teased, kicking his foot so he’d move his leg over just a bit more. He did, and Donna curled up beside him, pulling a red blanket off the back of the couch and onto her legs. 

“Man, c’mon! Anything but Twilight!” Victor groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. 

“What’s wrong with Twilight, dude?” Garfield complained. He gestured to the TV with the remote. “There’s romance, hot girls who could kill you, vampires! Do those mean nothing to you? Donna, back me up here!”

“It is a classic.”

“Thank you! See, man, we have to watch it,” he argued. 

“I think we should watch Top Gun,” Roy said, a bag of chips crinkling in his lap as he pulled some out.

“Hell yeah! See, someone here has taste.” Victor pointed over to Roy with a grin spread on his face. 

Garfield threw his head back this time, so fast that Dick was sure any other person might’ve gotten a concussion from it. “Blah, blah, blah! Who cares about American propaganda movies? Rae, back me up!” 

“Vampires are gothic,” Raven said, curled up in her black blanket, “but I like seeing people fall for propaganda.”

“What?” Gar exclaimed, looking at Raven with the most betrayed look he could muster. Dick snorted and rolled his eyes. He could eat popcorn just by watching everyone go back and forth.

“I vote Twilight,” Wally said, raising a hand up. His mouth was so full it took Dick a second to figure out what exactly he was saying.

“What about you, Kori? What’s your vote?” Roy asked.

Kori shrugged, “Won’t we watch both of them? Does it really matter which we watch first?” That got her several groans, and another little laugh out of Dick. Unfortunately, he didn’t realize that meant it was down to him to decide what comes first.

“Dick, my dude, you’ve gotta pick Twilight,” Garfield pleaded. He put his hands together in a praying motion, the remote sandwiched in between. “Please.”

“Why would he want to watch that? He doesn’t want to watch a bunch of hot adult actors play weird, vampire adults and teenagers. One of the actors looks like Bruce when he was an emo teenager,” Roy argued.

Dick didn’t really care what they were going to watch, really. Anything would prove to be a good distraction, and he’d readily welcome it. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Garfield beat him to the punch.

“Uh, what do you mean? He totally would!”

Okay, not super fun having people speak for you, but he could just clear the air and say he doesn’t care, then Garfield could argue it out some more with Roy and Victor until he inevitably lost.

“Over a classic action movie?”

“Uh, yeah? Who doesn’t want to watch hot vampire chicks be angsty on screen, man? One of them is even a redhead!” 

And there’s that. 

“Redhead? Dude, Victoria shows up in New Moon! Get your shit straight!”

Dick struggled to finish chewing and swallowing some popcorn he had tossed into his mouth just a second before. He was reminded of how gross he felt just then, and he shifted in his seat, jostling Wally a bit. Wally turned his head away from where Roy and Garfield were going back and forth and at him.

Dick tried to keep his body relaxed, though he was failing miserably, and Wally’s eyebrows furrowed at him.

“Dick? You good, man?”

Dick was, in fact, not good. He tensed up more. Fuck, this was totally an opening for him to do what he and Dr. Kim talked about him doing: the ever-dreaded boundary setting. He could totally do this. His friends out of everyone would understand this. Kori and him already had their own different boundaries they had to make together in their friendship after they broke up. This would go fine, and they’ll respect what he has to say. He can totally do this, and no, he was not psyching himself out at all. 

“Can you guys stop?” he blurted out. In hindsight, it was funny seeing everyone shut up and just stare at him, but in the moment it felt like he had done something horribly wrong, and suddenly he felt like he should’ve never said anything.

Donna frowned, and sat more upright. “Dick…”

Dick shook his head. He totally could do this, just had to set a boundary and they could move on, and Dick would vote Twilight because it was infinitely funnier than Top Gun and God knew he could use some humor from whatever the fuck tha drama was trying to be. 

“No, really. Just stop. Stop making jokes about whatever you think my type is,” Dick started. He set his popcorn bowl onto the end table to his side. “I don’t think they’re funny.”

“C’mon, man, you totally have a thing for redheads. Kori, Wally, Barbara…two’s a coincidence, three’s a pattern,” Gar pointed out. 

“Yeah,” Roy chimed in. “Not a joke if it’s true.”

“That’s not the point. I don’t want you guys making jokes about that part of my life. Tonight at Adonis? Totally not cool. I don’t just sleep around with anyone, it’s not exactly my thing,” Dick responded, frowning more. He didn’t want to have to keep defending himself over this. Dick shook his head again, scoffing, “Is it that big of a deal that I don’t want you guys doing it?”

“What so bad about the ladies and guys lovin’ you?” Victor asked. “You used to be all for the attention.”

“It’s not a bad thing to admit to wanting flings and one-night-stands, Dick,” Kori added, tilting her head to the side and frowning back at Dick. “It’s quite normal on Earth from what I’ve gathered myself.”

“Again, not the point. It’s just not something I’m into, and I’d really appreciate it if you guys just won’t make those jokes anymore,” he repeated. Dick turned his head away from them and to the TV for a second. “Can we just watch Twilight or something?”

“No way, seriously, what gives?” Roy asked, crossing his arms. He looked fed up with Dick, and Dick could feel himself starting to get annoyed right back at him.

This was nowhere near as easy as Dick was hopefully wishing it would be. He couldn’t even say he was entirely surprised by that fact. Dick had burned a lot of bridges by being a—well—dick, but it was a two-way street, and he’d put a lot of effort in before to fix it. 

Dick’s eyebrows knitted tightly together, and he could help the scoff that erupted from his throat. “What’s so bad about me not wanting you to joke around about my sex life?” 

“You know what? Fuck you, Dick,” Roy retorted, shaking his head in disbelief. He pointed a finger at him, and went on to add, “You can’t say shit about that. What? Get mad that you cheat and can’t keep it in your pants? Grow the fuck up. Stop making everything about you.”

“Roy…” Kori started, but she was quickly interrupted.

“Newsflash, buddy. If you don’t want people to make jokes about your sex life, maybe don’t sleep with everything that walks,” Roy continued. 

“I’m not making it all about me. And for the record, I never cheated on Kori, and I don’t sleep around,” Dick retorted, gesturing around as he spoke. He could feel his cheeks heating up, and something about how everyone looked made his embarrassment worse. Wally’s eyes widened, and he slouched back into the couch. Donna leaned back finally after having sat straight up to try to intervene. Raven was silently watching while Victor and Garfield followed him and Roy like they were the entertainment now. Kori frowned at that, shaking her head.

“Dick—” 

“Seriously? You didn’t cheat on Kori? Does Mirage ring a bell at all? And for the record, you cheating isn’t new. Yeah, I know all about you cheating on Barbara with Tarantula. Who was better that time, Dick, huh, go on, share with the class!” Roy barked, shaking his head. Dick wondered if he was going this hard on him because of his thing he had sort of going on with Kori. He brushed that thought away.

Based on the others' expressions, Dick knew just how pitiful and disgusting he looked to them. It made Dick’s stomach churn, and he wanted to both beat the shit out of someone—anyone—and hide in his room and cry. Who even cares how that information got back to Roy? He certainly didn’t care because whoever he got the information from certainly hadn’t known what the fuck they were talking about. 

“That’s not fair—”

“Oh, not fair? I’m so sorry you can’t handle owning up to your fuck-ups. No one would be so pissed off about this if you'd just admit you’re a slut—” 

“Roy,” Donna interrupted, her tone had a bit of a warning to it. Dick silently thanked her for cutting in, but even that didn’t stop Roy’s frustrated and increasingly loud tirade.  

“—and now the one time we all can get together, you want to start shit and fuck everything up. Get a fucking grip—”

The only thing louder than Roy yelling at him was Dick’s heart that was beating against his chest with the amount of fear-mixed adrenaline Dick usually only got when he’d severely fucked up in the field. 

“I was raped,” Dick mustered out incredulously.

Those three words seemed to make everyone short circuit. Roy’s face twisted, confused; Kori’s as well. Victor and Garfield’s mouths dropped open a bit, and instead of looking at Roy, their eyes were glued to Dick. Raven stopped chewing her black licorice and stared at him. Donna had taken a shaky inhale as though she could believe what Dick had just said. That was fair enough; they usually would tell each other everything, but how could he tell her when he could only sometimes admit it to himself? Wally looked like he was going to cry, and he’d whispered out a dude sometime as Dick tried to calm down and think. 

He was grappling with what he could even say after this admission that would make them see how fucked the whole thing was. His face still felt hot, and Dick was sure if he didn’t get space soon, he’d break down in front of everybody. He started talking before the others could have a chance to try and gaslight him about it:

“I was raped more than once. It’s not my fault that Mirage used her power to look and talk exactly like Kori. And it’s also not my fault that I was in shock and said no, and Tarantula didn’t listen. It’s just not.”

Kori spoke up this time, “Dick, you still should’ve been able to tell the difference between me and an imposter.”

“That’s not fair! As much as he says that he is one of the best detectives in the world, he is still human, guys,” Wally started, shaking his head. “You’re telling me that if someone was pretending to be Dick well enough to fool everyone, that you’d be able to tell?” 

“Well—”

“Should Dick have asked whoever he was with a billion questions to make sure he was sleeping with them and not some piece of shit?”

“Wally,” Dick interrupted. He was back to picking at the pillow, though it was jerky enough that the others paid notice to how shitty he was feeling. “I said yes to my girlfriend, not to Mirage. I definitely said no to Catalina more than once. And while I didn’t say no to the other ones, they were the adults, not me. But that’s not the point. I shouldn’t have to get into what horrible crimes people committed against me for you guys to stop making jokes about all this stuff—”

Dick stood up from where he was sitting, and the pillow made a small thump sound when it hit the floor. He was so tense that he thought if he relaxed even a little he’d be sore for hours. Wally looked conflicted like he wanted to reach out to Dick and get him to sit back down but was too scared too; Donna looked just about the same. The rest of his old teammates were sitting there looking dumb, and it made Dick more angry:

“—I’m not going to just sit here and let you remind me about Mirage and everything else, or let you sit there and call me a slut, or whatever you come up with. And I shouldn’t have to sit here and listen to you blame me, because it’s not my fault!”

His breathing was choppy, almost a heaving sort of sound. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins, and he was most definitely on the verge of tears because everything was getting kind of blurry. 

“Dick…” Donna said, moving her snacks and blanket to the side of her and standing up. 

“No.” Dick shook his head and took a step away from everyone. “No. I’m going back to Blüdhaven. I can’t…I can’t deal with this right now.” 

He made sure he had his phone, keys, and wallet on him before making his way to the doors of the lounge room. 

“Dude, don’t go,” Garfield tried to say. The others joined in, but there was no way he could stay tonight. In fact, he didn’t really want to see any of them for a few weeks. He wanted to stew away in his city, in his apartment until he’d gotten over the embarrassment and the humiliation of tonight.

“I’ll…I’ll catch you guys later. If you need help for a mission or something, let me know,” he responded, standing in the doorway. Just before he left, though, Dick looked back at them and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Nothing came out though, and so Dick tapped the wall and left.

[mirrorofprinces]

ao3 wrapped ask: 3, 5, 6, 12, 17, 18, 19, 20, 28, 29, 30!

answered 17, 28, 29 <3

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? i thinkkkk i can't stop and look the other way. i knew for sure i wanted to play with infidelity kink (and my original idea was actually for the infidelity to be real lol) but i chickened out and just made it a roleplay, and even clearly tagged it as such, but i'm proud of how i pulled it off in a way that a bunch of people commented saying they forgot or didn't realize it was roleplay hehe. maybe i'll write actual infidelity one day! who knows

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? god, that's gotta be give it to ya like you never had it. i truly didn't expect the response it's gotten because there was already a super popular pornstar AU fic, so i knew my second cake would just be a humble offering in comparison, but i think a lot of people really liked the way i wrote them here where i had fun exploring their personalities outside of mafia canon.

6. Favorite title you used? oh, i hate all my titles, i literally don't think of a title until 30 seconds before posting, and then i end up using whatever song i was listening to while writing...

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year? jesus christ. you don't wanna know. it's in the double digits for sure lmao ><

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? i don't know that it's been one character consistently in my posted fics, but i can admit that the "character" in my rpf WIPs that's been giving me hell is apo. he is so hard to write!

19. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? i guess i can technically say mileapo since i haven't finished or posted any mileapo fics yet. but another kp ship i want to try is (unpopular opinion alert) vegasporsche. hear me out!! they might suck together in the series, but they have a different dynamic in the novel, and their relationship is more genuine (not FULLY genuine but like, more than in the show lol, like they become friends and vegas develops actual feelings for porsche and everything). but i just don't know if i'll ever actually write them because i would need the perfect idea or AU and it hasn't come to me yet.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most? probably down like my head on your chest, because i THINK it's my fav la fortissimo fic. i'm just really happy with the scenes i chose to hornify, plus the hallway-semi-public-masturbation bit was a huge turning point for porsche where he was given full control of the situation for once and he still chose to submit. you don't really get this because it's in porsche pov, but from that point on in the series, you notice kinn ends up "playing with porsche's emotions" a lot more (ie. having him drive his twinks home, fucking a lot more escorts, shutting down conversations about their feelings) and that's actually kinn poorly coping with porsche's unwavering trust by trying to prove to himself that he doesn't feel anything for porsche, which we all know is a BIG FAT LIE. but anyways. no one reads into the story this deeply, i know you're all just here for the smut <3

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year? my biggest surprise is that i can write again LMAO. before kp brainrot, i went like a full 2 calendar years without writing anything because i was so uninspired, plus constantly comparing myself to the thousands of better writers in the huge fandom i was in at the time. kp also has incredible writers but it's a much smaller fandom and i feel a lot less self-conscious posting here. i remember in my old fandom, i literally couldn't even tweet about an idea i had that i wanted to write without getting a dozen replies from people saying "there's already a fic like that", which is like, ok, i know none of my ideas were especially original, but getting that response constantly made me feel like my writing just wasn't welcome. oh well. with kp being a new and small fandom, nothing feels "overdone" yet, so i'm having a lot of fun in this playground!

[fainthedcherry]

Mental Health Awareness month is tomorrow. So have a post in my timezone for the 1st of may an hour ahead, so I won't have to post tomorrow.

It's crazy, how calmed my parents are now. It's as if they've never yelled or argued with me over not being able to get a job, now that I had been given the chance. Why weren't they just as patient as that before?? I doubt it would've hurt to have been kind to me whilst I was going through a mentally taxing time. Kinda annoyed with them, I admit. But I'm just glad they stopped mentally wearing me down. I really need my mental stability, if I wanna convince them to take me in. I've been preparing a script in my head for several days now, to hopefully ease the anxiety that is asking me why I want a job without answering, "I just don't wanna be home and earn money to get a car and driver's license man, no magic behind it." I honestly wish, that getting employed would be just as easy as the snap of a finger, as it is for me to draw. I have. So many useless talents I never use, it's kinda sad, almost, y'know? I'm a social wreck due to years worth of being put into a bad place with all the bullying I endured, and breaking that shell apart now, to try and become a capable and social being is just so much harder due to it. I'm really trying, but I still fail at keeping my cool once I'm home. I nearly break down each time I go outside. That mental pressure of people judging me, like I was for a literal century (I'm not even exaggerating), hasn't faded, only worsened.

I hope that the help I'm getting now, can reverse that. It's not like I hate talking to people. Once I start, I can't shut up until my own voice becomes rasp. I can literally talk for hours. To no end. It's just so much harder, when no one wants to listen, or whenever I close myself off for a while to do my best to keep my ego in check and try to stay a good person. It's hard to be nice, when I was worn down for so long by the world itself.

^Man all this angst-dump would make killer midwest lyrics though. Maybe I'll update you tomorrow with that. I can't play my guitar that well yet, but maybe, some day. I might just become a musician like Cavetown..Where people can seek refuge and relate and understand. I just honestly want people to feel safe near me. But it's hard due to all the trust-issue I had to endure from friends who've backstabbed me. Way too many have.

But yeah, I think I'll leave this pondering for now to the future tomorrow. I honestly wanna draw some venty art for this entire month? As I don't have 30 mermaids for Mermay, I only have like...3 mermaid characters, which for my standard of being obsessed with fairytale creatures, is a lot. lmao. I might continue doing this. Just. Being honest with people and like..I guess conversing to a mirror? No one but myself listening? Is kinda nice. I usually shut myself up immediately and can't cope at all due to it. Maybe if I re-learn to trust and appreciate a side of me, I've long pushed away, for the sake of presenting myself as a mentally-stable person online, just maybe, I'll feel much more true to myself. Currently I just feel like the worst person on earth, as I've gotten super needy, with the need to be recognized and acknowledged by the world. I want to be someone. But we all want to be someone, at the end of the day.

I'm not sure if tagging this is a good idea? But I honestly also wonder, if someone out there can seek comfort, in such texts, where just a person overthinks their life and ponders. Maybe I should make that the hashtag too, beside mental health awareness month. Maybe look out for some sketches in the coming may? Unless of course, I get busy, I always do and I know it, so I can't really commit to monthly challenges as I'd like to. But hey, chin up, for the fact that I always try, despite knowing I won't get to the finish-line. It's better than doing nothing and being nobody.

[jaypsnax]

Alright then, to take it from the top... here’s some things I’ve done here or there for this dang game, from oldest to newest. With a big chunk of months starting with the margin Floofty there. Much is traditional and such, which is not my most practiced medium. Details on each below, just because I like over-explaining and it helps my nerves about posting.

1st: Fairly certain this Gramble is the first thing I did that was OK enough to show. Or, at least close to the first. He was one of my favorites and still is for his kindness(though he also can be really mean and paranoid, also a reason why I like him), so I wanted to get around to em. Also he’s very cute, I love my little malewife. I wanna scoop him up and hold him. Trouble is, Gramble has to have some of the most awkward proportions I’ve yet experienced while trying to draw a grumpus, I swear. That, and the more I looked at it, the more I grew to be unhappy with it. That generally applies to basically all of the drawings from last year, I find them to be “eh” at best. But it is what it is. 2nd: Second up is Flooftyyy, my most favorite. Intelligent, well-spoken, morally ambiguous, NB... and an asshole. But one with a cause they believe in that’s ultimately well intentioned, which they’ll go to self-destructive lengths to fulfill. And it’s clear they struggle to really get a grasp on how to treat people and have learned to cope with their frustration by shutting everyone out and believing them to be ignorant. While still obviously playing favorites between Eggabell and Triffany :p But by the end of the game, they’re learning that in order to really do what they want, they’ve got to really try and understand others. They’re the sort that I’d love to keep following to see their development. The awkwardness, the uncomfortable apologies and attempts at empathizing or opening up, the potential for blossoming relationships and a connection with others that, maybe, they’ve never quite experienced before. Their character is one that’s kind of close to my heart for being interesting and also quite similar to one I made and roleplayed for years. Add in the fact they’re NB and that just sealed the deal, that’s some fucking gender goddamn euphoria right there. So I had to draw them. 3rd: This one also mostly falls under the same explanation as above, except it was an effort as really figuring out grumpus bodies and proportions and stuff. Albeit in the form of solely Floofty, but my mental bandwidth for anything more than a drawing or two at a time is zilch. After that I’m spent. It was the first thing that I felt even marginally satisfied with, however.... I just feel like I’m in danger when looking at it. Like I’m gonna lose my way of things and habits I’ve built now from observing it too closely. Did keep the eyes, however. Kind of. 4th: To be real w you I just felt like drawing a Filbo after seeing a Filbo. He’s cute and I’d put a smooch on his dumb little head. Also more practice w grump stuff, but with some intentional attempts at stylization. I guess it didn’t stick, but who knows, maybe I could pick some of it back up?  5th: THE FIRST NEW DRAWING FROM A FEW DAYS AGO and it’s FLOOFTY, of course. It’s not really the first, there’s a few other things before it, but they suck so... yeah. I’d crawled out of the Bugsnax hole somewhat after a few months and failing to really do anything I actually wanted to do before, but a particular fic conked me right back 6 ft under. Piled the dirt over me and packed it in tight. So here I am again. And not only is it like that, but after binging a whole nearly 60,000 words in a night/morning, I was struck with the inspiration to actually write myself. Or try to, anyway. I have experience in RPing, but not a whole lot in actually... making a story myself. It’s not been going well, but I’ve talked plenty about that already... I’m sure it gets annoying for the whole maybe one person whose seen most of it to witness. And I’m still having fun. I’d mention the fic, but considering it’s NSFW and I’m officially tagging this... I don’t know if they’d want me advertising it as such. But surprise surprise, it’s Floofty related. And don’t get the wrong idea, while it covers explicit subject matter, that’s not entirely the point. Not a bad thing if it were, just that it’s more than that. I just like good character writing over all else, which is something liking this game to begin with heavily reinforced.... 6th: Heeeere’s Gramble, again. I’d been doing some little drawings for character profile stuff in my notebook, but I started to run into some difficulties when I got to him. This here is one of the results of the couple of little draws I did to try and understand. Again, his proportions are so *weird*. He’s just a little guy.... 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th: Here marks the first impulse draw after considering Buddy/Filbo/Beffica poly stuff. As well as the sudden Buddy drawing in general, which came as a big shock to me. These draws are suuuper rough, but I like the concepts. And goodness has this stuff been a whole ‘nother tangent... I did a fair amount of talking about it here. I’d do more, since there were TONS of details I still wanted to mentioned, but... my hands are starting to hurt. So maybe later. I realized that I kinda of messed up their design in my head bc I thought they had more similar teeth to Clumby. Whoops. That’s what I get for not using reference and same with FlooFTY’S TEETH AND THE WATCH NOOOOOOOOOO- .... *Ahem* I reckon the design is subject to change. Gotta make some little adjustment here or there, like maybe different eyes to distinct them from Floofty, but I actually rather... like the look. The hat, tie, and maybe a change to a bag on the side look nice... if totally not canon. But I will have just a little break from canon, as a treat. Otherwise it’s canon or bust. Personally, at least. I don’t really hold others to that standard unless they say they’re trying to follow canon or diverge so badly that a character is unrecognizable.

[animatedrapture]

RINTOBER: [ Achilles' Heel ]

word count: 2,222

suna rintarō x reader

tags: ambiguous end, implied major character death, angst, implied sexual intercourse, toxic relationship, detailed pain(?)

song: achilles come down - gang of youths

a/n: HALLOWEEN SPECIAL because... death...?

a HUGE thank you, once again, to my wonderful wife, love of my life, bby @toffees-main 🥺 for proofreading the final piece and preventing me from sounding like a dumbass like, twice. also, thank you to @newfriendjen and @kaitycole for beta-reading the initial draft!

"Rin, Rintarō, I love you!" You shouted from the bleachers; a proud smile decorating your features as you cheered for him right after he'd hit the ball to the other side of the net, securing EJP Raijin another point—so close to winning.

His gaze and yours were two opposites of a pole with a pull unparalleled—a pull science can only wish to decipher. He finds you as he rotates through the set up and there's a beam in his eyes, making him break out into a grin you just know he couldn't find it in himself to reserve for later.

That day, that match—Suna Rintarō was named the MVP of the game. He owed it all to you and the swell of his heart with each cheer he heard from you; your voice distinct as if it were the only one that mattered in that whole gymnasium. Perhaps, at least that time, you truly were all that mattered to him.

But not anymore.

The first—the first was the lack of replies, the dryer replies. I love you's met with Love you's and very little effort to hide the lack of sincerity beneath. It began through texts until it was the quick, snipped tone laced with the parsimonious manner he answered you. The act of it was much like an attempt to deprive you of water until you're but withering rose in his grasp that he would rather replace than try to plant again and save.

Just how long were you willing to go without the water you needed to stay alive?

"Rin, love, I'll prepare dinner for us tonight, come home early, okay? I'm cooking your favorite!"

"I'll try," was his reply as you watched each of his hasty movements through your shared bedroom.

"I prepared you a bento, too. It's on the kitchen counter," you continued as he attempted to ignore the way you looked at him similar to the way you look when you're lost and searching for something. He hums in response, and just as he was about to reach for the door, you call out to him, "Rin, where's my goodbye kiss?" in the usual tone you would pull back then when he would forget and pepper you with kisses in retaliation, offering an apology before heading out.

He looks back at you with exasperation, "I'm late, Y/N." He doesn't wait for you to answer before he has the door shut close.

That's how you know he also forgot the food you prepared on the kitchen counter.

Foolishly, the answer to the question was that you were willing to wait until your next life for his love to drown you into bliss again. It's that answer that's disrespectful to the mystery of reincarnation—but you're everything Suna Rintarō wanted you to be; that is, if it was a fool he wanted you to be, you would play the part better than any award winning actor to have ever lived could. Even if it was a miscreant he wanted you to be, some sort of heretic to the laws of the world and the conditions of love. You'd be everything he asked of you. After all, who were you if not his other half?

Who were you if not water to shape into whatever container he put you in, right?

The second—the second was the lies that slipped past such sinful crimson lips. Oh, by the heavens, as if the lack of fondness in the timbre of his voice as he spoke to you wasn't enough to put cracks to the cemented foundation of you and him. Cruel, it's so cruel—you wonder if you're lacking somewhere, have you changed? Are you no longer diamond in the sea of glitter—? Worth not of his time nor the beating of the caged heart you thought you've acquired?

Now when he speaks, even the very sound of his voice reverberates like a sharp spear piercing through your chest without mercy—as if you're Spartan in the Battle of Thermopylae. The lies that come along with them about how training ended late again, or that he's travelling for a match again—Huh? No, you don't have to come, Y/N. I need to focus.

Did he have to lie about who he's with, what he's been doing? It's laughable. As if you wouldn't kiss away the taste of anything that lingered in his lips, if it was blood, alcohol or the lips of another girl. Rintarō, did he not know you enough to know you would surrender to his will no matter what mud followed his footsteps?

Ah, but, what would admitting such things do to his pride? Maybe it's that—or maybe he liked the way the lies were like lemon and salt to a fresh wound. You think, you never thought you could be so masochistic.

Third—the third is the sharpness of his gaze. It's the same gaze, same pair of eyes you've loved for such a long time and you fail not to love to this very moment. You're softer than clouds but now most hollow in comparison to the unacquirable stars among the cosmos—you think they're there but they're just a burst of light, something that has probably died lightyears ago.

It's like chokehold, the fourth—the fourth is like chokehold and he, the assassin. Ruthless—he's ruthless when he looks at you as you're not more than a tedious chore to him and the ring on your finger held no promise of relentless love greater than what a deity could offer.

Foolish—you're foolish. Delusion is a coping mechanism to the ones whose realities have been robbed in front of them—delusion is what you're supposed to call it when you fill your head with all the excuses and all the things you tell yourself have to change. You used to be a masterpiece. A masterpiece to him; as though you're Holy Grail found in a gallery of things that could never begin to hope they would ever amount to you.

Delusion is ignoring the liquor in his lips, the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with alcohol and cigarette smoke. You're confused and your reality that seems to have been distorting more often than usual. You question the strings that premeditate fate when it's you feeling the drunkenness and hangover the next day when it should be Suna and the tabloids of "Suna Rintarō spotted in yet another bar." You wonder if each sunset and sunrise you watched with Suna was a mere fever dream when it's you who vomits on the toilet. You, who sobs on the bathroom floor.

"Sfumato," your friend tells you, "The gentle blurring of edges to make rendered objects appear as one with their environment." The edges blur when you call that delusion as love—you only have to wait long enough before both are truly one and the same. The pain disguised as martyr sacrifice to the greatest allegory of love to exist. This is what you're told. They say, "Y/N, you've confused love with delusion," and yet you don't listen.

You don't listen most of all when you're back underneath him but you feel like you're being bloodied all over, stained like wine to a white dress. Yet you allow yourself to indulge in the kisses he's abated you of, you revel in each time you ask him to tell you he loves you and he finally does as he luxuriates you of your desires and of your whines for love—nevermind that he was doing it for himself. After all, it is as the word suggests, a luxury.

Suna Rintarō had become a luxury you couldn't afford, therefore, he did not have any business of giving himself to you. Not unless he wanted to.

Is there such thing as a free reign over the heart of someone? Hand it over as they will but how long would they truly allow you to borrow it—? Borrow it because one never truly surrenders such a vital thing to human functioning. Yes, you are and you have been delusional to believe so.

"You own the entirety of my heart, Y/N," you're unsure whenever it echoes in your head. He brings you enough torture, why must your own brain create such clamor in your head. Was such pain necessary? Is pain to love much like Adam's rib to Eve?

"It's a promise ring, bunny," he said as he tucked your hair behind your ears—his gaze is intense, almost like you would disappear from his sight if he looked at anywhere or anything but you.

You stared at the ring that shone under the light of the restaurant, your vision blurring at the tears welling from your eyes and you try your best to choke in the sob that involuntarily escapes you.

"Hey, Y/N, what are you cryin' for?" He questioned with a chuckle, looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes while his thumbs reached out to wipe away each tear that betrayed you—falling down your cheeks as he cupped your face.

"I-it's nothing, I—I'm just happy, love," you answer him through your tears.

There's a smile playing across his lips, he tells you, "'m just making a promise that I'll marry you one day, bunny, is all."

You nodded eagerly with a wide smile even as the tears that left you continued to fall, "I'm making a promise to say yes, Rin. No matter what," you answered him through your sobs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Guess I should start practicing to get on one knee then, yeah?" He laughed as he pulled you closer, his arms around you, you giggled along with him—it felt like you were molded together to form one perfect piece, like the act of staying there for all of eternity, in each other's arms, would turn you into one. Entangled together in all the right ways—as if Rapture has befallen the Earth and that was your final state as did the universe.

The fifth—the fifth is the screaming, the fights. Who would have thought you would break like a mere twig stepped on in the darkest forest on this Earth? It was under his shoe did you break from; each word that left his mouth was scathing—they didn't feel like a stab or pins and needles to the human heart, they felt like burns of acid that slowly ate at your decaying soul, breaking heart, dwindling sanity.

"I don't get it, Rin! Why do you treat me like this?!" You screamed through your tears, your chest heaving as your lungs tried its best to support you, even when it's already been punctured by the shattered pieces of your heart that continued to beat in separate shards, digging further into your lungs, damaging your ribcage, piercing your throat.

"Please, God, just tell me what to do—Rintarō, tell me what I need to do to turn us back to the way we were, please," you begged, falling to your knees and you let the shattered items on the floor puncture your skin. You felt numb yet your whole body was buzzing. The pain from the pieces of glass from under you doesn't register in your brain because all you can feel is the pain that was spreading from your chest and out into your whole body.

Under his mercy had he turned you inside out and greedily taken every part of you—everything you surrendered on your own volition until you were nothing, not even a shell of yourself but more like a ghost floating through the air. It looked like a battlefield—and perhaps it was. Love was never something you come out alive from. Love was greedy, selfish, treacherous. Love is like an assailant you allowed to enter in the safety of your own home.

"Don't you get it? Y/N, I don't love you anymore!"

No. You think, no. No, it repeats in your head, over and over. Denial. You were in denial, at this conjecture, you were aware of even this.

"I stopped loving you long ago, Y/N. You were dumb enough to stay." Has he always been this truculent towards you? You wonder but you can't recall anything else but the echoing of his words. Words he used like a champion of the battlefield, liberating away the life of his enemies.

No. Don't say that. You don't mean it. No.

Suna thought you would be the arrow to his heel—the one to bring him to his knees in the most torturous of ways. In reality, maybe you were more his heel than the arrow. He was both Achilles and his actions, the arrow that brought him to his own demise.

Sixth—the sixth was sickening grief. You're so unfair. You're so selfish. How could you run away from him, only to scream his name and the tormenting shout of "I love you" that haunted him awake or in his slumber. How could you be so cruel? To let him fall to his knees in front you the way you made him to. Ruthless—you're so ruthless. The pain was the excruciating kind, crashing towards him like ocean waves bringing him farther from the shore and near to wherever you were now. How could you leave him like you did?

After all, what was he if there wasn't you?

📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Your place Part 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (High School AU)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, bullying, degradation, dubcon.

Words: 1776.

Summary: You suffer in the arms of America’s golden boy, the one who has been bullying you for years.

Part 1

P.S. Some more smut, finally! All characters had reached 18 years of age. Hope you’ll enjoy!

______________

"Are you going to come on Saturday?"

Steve moved his hand down your naked belly, watching you laying close to him on your bed and breathing softly. You glanced back at him, his handsome features illuminated by the dim light coming from the lamp on your nightstand.

"Where to?" You asked as he covered the back of your hand with his palm twice bigger than yours.

"The field house. We have a game."

He traced your knuckles with his fingertips and you thought how odd Steve was. Who could have thought the school's biggest bully was such a cuddle-bug after sex? It wasn't bad, though. You actually liked this side of him.

"Sure."

You weren't interested much in basketball or any other sports, but it was easier to come rather then fight Steve again. He was stubborn like a mule. Besides, a part of you felt like you belong there - many of your classmates were coming to see almost every game.

Why did Steve care whether you were there or not? Surely, he had already been showing you off in front of everyone as much as he could as if you were his trophy - now you sat close to him in class and then in cafeteria during lunch time; he was dragging you with him after classes along with his stupid friends. The whole school knew the nature of your relationship, and the first weeks it was making you bitter and hateful. Steve Rogers head fucking forced himself on you, yet instead of sympathy all you got was an enormous amount of jealousy. You were still receiving hate mailes dropped into your locker. The girls kept whispering curses behind your back as you walked down the corridors with Steve and his pack of wolves. He was able to make everyone silent, though. Now even his friends had no right to bully you like before. He reserved it purely for himself.

"Did you buy yourself a dress?"

"What dress?" You blinked in confusion. "Do I need a dress on Saturday?"

Steve smiled at you and leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"No, kitten, I'm talking about the prom."

You rolled your eyes at his words. Of course, Steve Rogers needed to show off everywhere he possibly could - he definitely hoped to become prom king. You, on the contrary, didn't care much. In fact, you didn't want to come there at all. You hardly had any friends at school, and coming to watch Steve flashing his smile and basking in the rays of glory would only make you more irritated with him.

"No, I didn't."

"Then we could go together. I know one nice place."

"Where? 5th Avenue again?"

You smirked, watching the guy frown. Last time you went shopping together was a nightmare for you. You ended up with several bags of expensive lingerie Steve paid for, and you were disgusted at yourself for giving in to him. True, his family was twice wealtier than yours, but it didn't mean you wanted anything from him. Except for leaving you alone, that is.

"And what of it?" Rogers asked you sharply, rising above you. "If I want to buy you a dress, I will."

You sighed, turning your head to Steve and pulling your body closer against his. You learned to enjoy this intimacy with time as he taught you what making love to each other meant. You were pleasantly surprised at his efforts to make you feel good.

"Steve, please. I don't want to think of it now. It's... ruining the mood."

He purred as you caressed his blonde hair and snuggled closer to you, dropping little kisses to your face and touching your cheek affectionately. Steve loved being tender. You believed he had a real physical need to touch you one way or another, often without any sexual subtext at all. It was almost as bad as his need to bully you verbally, especially when he was aroused. You were still learning how to cope with that.

If only he didn't make those photos of you and him in the locker room that time. It was the only reason you obeyed him three months ago when he declared he wanted to keep you close. You didn't know if Steve had stored those pictures somewhere, but you weren't worried about them anymore. His obvious obsession with you would keep him from showing photos of you naked with his cock buried inside your wet cunt to the hilt. You could walk away now, yet everything wasn't as easy as before. Steve made sure to gain trust of your parents, pretending to be the perfect caring boyfriend to you and just a very good guy to everyone else. He also made you meet his parents who turned out to be surprisingly nice, nothing like their son. Steve's mother Sarah took an immediate liking to you and often sent you a huge piece of her famous raspberry pie. It was a highlight of your day when Steve handed it to you during lunch. If you broke up with him now, you were sure he'd make up some story where you were the one to blame, and it would make your life even more miserable.

"Why are we doing this, Steve?" You asked him quietly as he played with a lock of your shiny hair. When be looked back at you, you realized he knew what you were talking about.

"What do you mean?" He grunted in return.

"You know this can't last forever." You said, your voice tired. "There are only a few months left before the graduation."

You were still stroking his hair as he bit down on his plump lower lip, his eyes not leaving your face as he stared down at you from above. There was something unsettling in his gaze, something dark, even scary, but you refused to be afraid of his temper tantrums.

"We're applying to different colleges, and they're not close to each other. How do you think we can keep... this going?"

Steve struggled for words, and you saw he was getting frustrated. It was odd - he liked to use aggression as his shield, rarely showing his vulnerable side to anyone and barking off whatever accusation you threw at him. Yet here you were, looking at the guy who couldn't utter a word to answer a simple question.

Was it despair you saw on his pretty face?

"You can choose the same place, too."

"Are you joking? My family would have so sell our house to pay for my studies then." You let out a sigh.

"You can apply for a grant. With your grades it's not impossible."

"Steve, let's be realistic. You wanna go to Columbia University. Do you have any idea how many people are applying for a grant to study there?" You said and, seeing him getting more agitated, wrapped your hands around his muscular shoulders, reaching out to kiss him again.

He deepened the kiss immediately, swirling his tongue around yours and then licking the insides of your mouth when you mewled softly beneath him. The soft vibration against his lips made Steve shivered from pleasure. He spent a bit more time rolling the tip of his tongue all the way around yours and finally released you, dropping a kiss to your chin.

"If you can't make it, I'm going to apply to the same place as you." He whispered, and you felt his cock gradually getting harder. "I'm sure they'll be happy to take me."

"Steve, you're mad." You shaked your head. "What are your parents going to say? They want the best for y-"

"I don't care what they want, it's up to me to decide." The guy growled and bit your lower lip gently, lowering himself on top of you again. "You're my girl, and my girl is going with me. I still have those photos in case you forgot."

"Ah!"

You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers touched your overstimulated clit, rubbing it skillfully as you squirmed. Your mouth fell agape as you were left gasping for air, trapped under Steve's athletic figure. Moaning at his touch, you looked at him, feverish, getting aroused again, your hands caressing his back as he smiled at you. He loved when you were a blushing mess beneath him, crying out his name as you were orgasming. No one else got to see you like this.

"I know you were a good girl today, but I want some more. You can handle it, can't you?" The guy cooed in your ear. "Come on, kitten. Show me how you mewl with my cock inside you. You're gonna mewl for me, right? Do it. Now."

You did as he said when his fingers were slowely fucking your sloppy cunt, your core aching for his dick almost painfully. Mewling softly, you kissed him again, and Steve slammed into you, muffling your high-pitched cry with his mouth  as he started rocking his hips. It felt so good, so fucking good. A wail of pleasure ripped from your throat, and Steve grinned at you.

"You're such a good little kitten, Y/N. I think next time we won't go to a restaurant, I'm just gonna give you a cat bowl full of my cum. You're gonna lick it clean, yeah? You're gonna do that for me, dear?"

"Yes, yesss, Steve." You whined as you felt your pussy kissing the base of his cock with a lewd sound. Panting and moving with Steve, you already felt one more orgasm building up, your mouth open and drooling. "I'm a good kitten, I'm a good kitten... pleaseplease Steeeeve..."

He groaned at your words, speeding up gradually and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head: he was rubbing against your g-spot to make your pussy milk his balls dry. Of, he fucking loved seeing that stupid expression on your face when you came, completely helpless, dependent on him to give you pleasure no one else could.

Steve was the one and only who could make you like this. Who the hell cared what his friends or parents said if he could hear you moaning his name beneath him whenever he liked? You were becoming more and more accepting, clinging to him when others were to mock you in public, spreading your legs for him when he cornered you in your or his own room. You grew to enjoy obeying him like a good girl you were, and Steve was going to keep you, finally, after all those long years of waiting.

He would make sure you never left his sight again.

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@lovelydarkdaydream

[khaleesiofalicante]

OK MY ELECTRICITY WENT BUT IM HERE WITH MY LIVE BLOG. Im also wearing a tiara i found during cleaning at 2 38 am...

LXI'S STILL HAVING THOSE DREAMS

You see, that’s how Lexi functioned. Unlike Selena who had a weekly planner with her name doodled on it, Lexi didn’t like having a schedule. She would decide what she wanted to do when she wanted it.

SAME LEXI SAME

IM SORRY IF THIS IS MSOTLY IN CAPS IM TOO EXCITED

lexi

lexi why are you in pain

what what what

whats happening

im freaking out

GEORGIA

There were six of them. Each handle in one colour of the pride flag.

gimme

THE ACADEMY

NO NO NO

these demons can talk as well.

that's what bothers me the most

CLARY STFU YOU KNOW DAMN WELL YOU FOUGHT A WAR AT 15. I know she's worried for valid reasons but im losing it right now.

calm its ok its gonna be ok

georgia collecting the ichor-

i love her so much

Lexi didn’t think it was possible, but the sight somehow made her gayer than before.

me every time i look at amy or rosa from b99

OLIVIA

“Of course you are not dying!” Lexi said severely. “Neither one of us is allowed to die before we finish binging Game of Thrones.”

with the major character death tag right there

dont make me think of georgia getting sick

dont

The bar was extremely low for shadowhunters.

yes it is

OH MULTIPLE POVS

RAFAEL

did i just sob "my child" ?

maybe i did

im so proud of him

LEAVE ME ALONE

wait but in tid sophie was over the age of ascention too

WAIT HOW OLD WAS SOPHIE AT THE AGE OF ASCENTION

WAIT OMG SOPHIE WAS YOUNG

I FORGOT ABOUT THAT

“Life is too short for bad blood,”

yeah. yeah it is

i still really like camilla

He could go to Mexico right now. His heart wanted to do it. His body screamed at him to do it.

It wasn’t the distance that was the problem. He had two warlocks at home. He had a bike. He had money to buy a plane ticket.

It wasn’t the distance at all. Rafael would walk to Mexico for her if necessary.

i screamed so loud here i was grateful for the closed door

CHAIRMAN MEOW

CYUKGUCDGYMDYUD

THE PRECIOUS CAT

WHAT IF THE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IS ABOUT CHAIRMAN???

“Y’all really be acting as if portals are like a bag of Cheetos!” Max pointed out seriously. “It ain’t $2.50, bro! Do you have any idea the energy it takes to make a portal? What people actually pay for it? I can’t be making portals for free. I don’t get a salary from the Clave like you do. This is how I make a living!”

SO TRUE

“I was going to say you should go stay at the institute with David,” Rafael said. “But you are right. You are not a baby. You can stay here on your-”

“On second thoughts,” Max interrupted with a grin. “I’m still a fetus in warlock years so I will go the institute.”

THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS

AHHH HE CALLED HER PRETTY THE FIRST TIME HE SAW HER

THEY WERE 7

IM SCREAMING SO MUCH RIGHT NOW

my throat hurts

JAIME MY BABY

Y'ALL I MISSED HIM SO MUCH

“All thanks to the amazing Isabelle Lightwood,” Jaime replied. “I think I am a little in love with her.”

“Who isn’t?” Rafael chuckled.

we all are in love with isabelle lightwood

no no no

where's anjali

where is she

dont fuck with me right now

why does diego look like a mess

“Diego,” the woman rasped. “She is coughing up blood again.”

no

dont

it's chapter 1

stop making me cry

THE LIGHTWOOD SIBLINGS

YUSDFGYUSDFSDGYUD

if anyone gives izzy shit for this i'll kill them

JACE STOP GOING SO FAST

“Jace, if you want to a baby so much then grow your own damn uterus,” Isabelle snapped.

TELL HIM

THIS GOES OUT TO THE WHOLE MALE POPULATION

After Georgia’s birth, they had promised each other that they would always choose the children first. If it ever came to a point, as it often did in their lives, where they had to choose between themselves and the children – they had promised each other to save the children.

dude theres a major character death here

Jace thought for a moment and then grinned at her. “No uterus. No opinion.”

“Selena has trained you well,”

selena my smart feminist child

I JUST KNOW ONE OF THE LIGHTWOOD-BANES IS DYING

AND IM NOT OK

“Do you really need those?” Alec asked, pointing at the glasses.

“No,” Jace replied. “But Clary thinks I look hot with glasses.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Alec shook his head.

Jace turned around. “Really? And your beard is for character building, is it?”

there's no use lying alec we all know why it's really there

I KNOW WHAT LEUKEMIA IS SHUT THE FUCK UP IM LOSING MY SHIT

no

no

she cant die

IF SHE DIES I WILL RAISE HELL

my throat hurts from all the shouting

“Can I get a cinnamon latte with extra cream and two sugars please?” Alec asked.

Jace raised an eyebrow.

“Magnus had a long day at the Spiral Labyrinth,” Alec explained.

“Can’t he just magic his drink?”

“Well, yes,” Alec replied. “But I like buying it for him. It’s called being a good husband.”

aww that's so sweet

THIS IS HILARIOUS

“I’m saying no one can do better than David,” Jace huffed. “He is precious.”

tru

“If you are going to be this way, things are going to be very awkward at their wedding,” Jace muttered.

“They are not getting married, Jace!”

“Do you not want them to???”

“They are nineteen!!”

“Doesn’t mean we are not allowed to think about it,” Jace pointed out. “If they get married, we will be family!”

“We are already family!” Alec all but yelled.

“Yeah, but we will be even closer!” Jace sighed happily.

“You are my parabatai!” Alec said incredulously. “My soul is literally tied to yours! How closer do you want to get?”

THIS IS AMAZING

OH MY GOD I LOVE

JACE BEING OVER PROTECTIVE OVER SELENA DATING SOMEONE IM LOSING MY SHIT

wait how old is michael

"Oh my god,” Jace gasped. “Three out of three! I win!”

“It’s not a competition, Jace!” Alec rolled his eyes.

“It is and I won,” Jace grinned. “You’re welcome, LGBTQ+ community.”

YUP JACE WON

“Can we talk about something else?” Izzy demanded. “We are not those parents who only ever talk about their children.”

Alec cleared his throat. “Right. Of course.”

“Yeah, we have lives of our own,” Jace nodded seriously.

They drove quietly for a while before they started discussing about their children’s love lives again right up until Jace pulled over at Jade Wolf.

of course...

Lily’s face was pale – paler than usual.

lily what's wrong

please lily

anjali...

lily is close to her

of course

“Then we burn all the angels,” Lily growled.

YES YES YES YES

Jace walked in that moment, sipping from his latte. “I bought donuts, y’all!”

A chuckle escaped Magnus. “Jonathan. Your timing is impeccable.”

"Is everything okay?” Jace asked, looking troubled.

“No,” Maia replied. “But at least we have donuts.”

at least they have donuts

“I love you,” he mouthed, and Alec’s heart was okay for a moment.

THE FEELS

ISABELLE

NO NO NO

NO

IZZY

PLEASE

WHY IS EVERY POV ENDING LIKE THIS

They had put on their clothes

AHEM SIR-

they grow up so fast...

no

im crying

dont please

izzy

she was poisoned

oh my god

WHO

GIVE ME NAMES RIGHT NOW

Rafael drank like a dozen a day.

understandable have a good day

OH MY GOD STOP JOKING AS A COPING MECHANISM

Im squeezing the life out of Emma (my emotional support stuffed cat) right now

seelies

the first time i heard the source was angelic my very first incstinct was seelie. I didn't wanna share it because of how absurd it sounded. but it doesn't anymore.

charlotte was poisoned by a seelie unintentionally which cost her her child

oh

OH MY GOD

NO THIS WASN'T IZZY'S COFFEE

MAGNUS GAVE IT TO HER

THIS WAS MAGNUS' COFFEE

SOMEONE WAS TRYING TO POISON HIM.

I'm losing my mind oh my god... I am so scared. Please Anjali and Isabelle please they cant...no i dont wanna think like that. tryna take deep breaths. ok. it's gonna be ok. maybe.

see ya friday!

Now I want to write lbaf while wearing a tiara. Hmmmm. I'll look for one online.

See you Friday! Also hope you had a good birthday!!!

And send pics of Emma!!!!!!!

[bettsfic]

betts, you've always given amazing writing advice in the past, so I'm coming to you with a question that legitimately keeps me up at night. I really want to write literary fiction. the only issue is - whenever I start writing that kind stuff, it immediately starts turning into porn? like, obviously, there is plot and stuff but it feels like ultimately all I want to write is people fucking and all the fall out that comes with it. is there a way to make this more ~literary? or is it just erotica?

i actually have a real, serious answer to this!! 

so, before the MFA, all i’d written was porn. it was all i knew how to write. i got to the MFA, and my first semester i decided to workshop candy tongue. bad idea. i was so comfortable writing for my fandom audience that i wasn’t aware of the stodgy nature of non-fandom audiences. my cohort was fine reading the incest stuff and the gratuitous sex, but they had trouble giving me feedback because they didn’t understand the point of it. and truly, there was none. i made maggie a gold-star submissive because i wanted to, even though it had no real function in the story. i wrote like 4 graphic sex scenes into a 25k novella, and i workshopped it, and made everyone, myself included, deeply uncomfortable.

i decided i could not write porn in my MFA. i was allowed and even encouraged by my thesis advisor, but ultimately i didn’t want the stress of it hanging over my head. so i started writing about money, and picking through my resentment toward my decade spent in finance. in fact the working title of my thesis was Sex & Money. i workshopped each story without being nervous at all, and realized i was taking no risks. by the end of my MFA, i really thought i was pulling my punches. 

and let me share the results of this sex/money content divide -- i’ve sent five stories out for publication. the two that haven’t picked up are the ones about money. the three that have been picked up are about sex. in one, a middle-aged woman buys her first dildo. that one won an award. in another, a 22 year old woman pursues her middle-aged boss. that one got nominated for a PEN. and in my most recent publication, an asexual masochist falls in love with his professional sadist. 

what i’m saying is, sex and stories about it are important. i’ve since separated my thesis collection into two -- zucchini, which is about (a)sexual exploration told through realism/absurdism, and dotted lines, which is a collection of fabulist stories about commodification and regulation. will they ever be published? probably not. will they ever even be finished? who knows! i’m a novelist, not a short storyist.

the resolution to your problem isn’t in how to avoid porn. rather you should ask, why do you write porn in the first place? and that answer is most likely: it’s the easiest conflict to write, and it exposes the characters’ true colors and intentions most easily. it’s a tool to uncover the story you are trying to tell. when you write two characters banging it out, you are resolving their conflict of desire in a tangible way. moreover, it’s an extremely high stake. when characters have sex, they’re at their most vulnerable, their most exposed. they’re literally laid bare for you, the writer, to see. if you think about the highest possible stakes in a story, it boils down to creation and destruction, sex and death. writing about death is a fucking bummer, so you’re left with sex to figure out who your characters really are. 

with porn, so many of your decisions -- like what and why, you know, conflict and motive -- are made for you, and you can focus on the important stuff, like pacing and voice and character. i firmly believe that when you begin any major project, you can’t make all your decisions at once. you can only make a few at a time, draft over draft, until eventually you’ve created an entire world. if all character A wants is to bang character B, you can get him across that distance without figuring out the make and model of the car he drives, or how often he calls his grandmother. those are decisions that can be made later, after your characters boink.

i have accepted that nearly everything i write will have what i call a “prime draft” in polite company but which is actually a porn draft. this isn’t even a first draft, it’s the 0th draft, where anything goes, and my id can run wild. the entire purpose of the porn draft can be frivolous nonsense with no depth or complexity. completely pressure-free and all for funsies. but i have to tell the story the fun way, the story i want to tell, to figure out what the story even is, what work it’s doing, and what i maybe want it to become later. in the porn draft, i’m allowing myself to focus on certain decisions, and sacrifice others for future drafts.

when i sit down and think of a novel i want to write, and that novel is Real and Important and tackling Difficult Topics, my boner flags. that’s not fun. i’m not inspired by seriousness or profound meaning. i may have all these important things i want to say in my writing, but in terms of the actual act, i mostly want to entertain and engage myself. and call me shallow, but the fastest way to do that is by giving me a hot character who is pining over another hot character, and they fuck a lot. 

once i’ve written the porn draft, i can go through and uncover the ~literary work i’m trying to do and the messages i’m trying to convey. usually i’ve figured out the major beats of the story, the voice, setting, motivations, etc. -- all things that are hard for me to figure out on the front end -- and i rework it into something more palatable for major audiences, that actually is Real and Important and tackling Difficult Topics.

the thing is, often the work i’m trying to do is about sex and sexual exploration, identity and its discovery, so usually i can’t take out all the porn. but i can make sure each scene is focused not on the pleasure or arousal i intended in the porn draft, but what i mean to uncover in my characters and plot by having it occur. that’s the difference between literary fiction and erotica -- in erotica, you’re trying to arouse your audience’s body; in literature, you’re trying to arouse their heart :’)

sex is allowed to and should exist in literature. some of my favorite literary works have tons of sex in them. it is not something to be shied away from or self-censored. if you want to write about sex, you should. but let the story tell you its underlying intentions, and in future drafts, pull those discoveries to the forefront of the story. 

i wrote training wheels solely for the detention scene in chapter 8. everything that happened up to that point was leading to that scene that i desperately wanted to write. and now, in the original fiction version, it doesn’t exist. it was scaffolding, an illusion i was chasing to lower the pressure on myself and convince myself i didn’t have to take anything seriously. but once the story was built and i saw what it really was, i could remove that scaffolding because the piece stands stronger without it. now, on the fourth draft, it’s no longer the story i originally intended it to be. it’s its own beast. there’s still a ton of sex in it, but it’s more subtle now, less over the top and gratuitous. it still ends in overt bdsm. i didn’t sacrifice any of that, because that was the work of the story. what i did sacrifice was descriptions of enormous throbbing cocks and characters coming 5 times in a row. 

same goes for some of my km prompts like coping skills and shut up and kill me -- stories that have way too much sex in them right now but have literary merit yet to be uncovered. coping skills might currently be a noncon pissplay fic, but it’s also a world in which character A has given blanket consent to character B, and B takes advantage of it, and beneath all that, they still somehow love each other. it’s an interesting space to explore, ripe for a story in which maybe nobody pees on anybody else, or maybe they do and it’s described in a different way. whatever might happen in that space, i needed the porn draft to even see those characters in that world with that conflict. and now i have it, and i can build something else with it.  

writing advice tag | ko-fi

[tinkdw]

My sisters been sending your (amazingly) written metas, but I'm still confused as to what "Performance!Dean" is. Could you explain? ❤❤❤❤❤❤

Hi! Thank you!

Performing!Dean is a tag that many of us use to explain the way that Dean portrays himself to the outside world, suppressing parts of himself that he doesn’t think should be outwardly shown.

It’s a form of SUBLIMATION (a psychological term meaning to repress emotions / a part of oneself), a term which he actually uses in 12x05.

It’s a great example. The writers KNOW that we associate Dean’s love of pie with women / being comfortable / the home and family feeling, and cake with the repressed side of him (it is repeatedly used in this context, Dean really wanting it but never allowing himself to have it or just nibbling at the edges). It’s quite a famously known concept.

So… when Sam asks Dean if he wants pie and Dean says no, which basically never happens, when Sam then looks so DONE and starts talking about how Mary is gone and… (the implication being he is about to mention Cas being gone too)… then Dean says nope nope I am FINE and Sam FINALLY calls Dean out on it, saying “Dean, it’s called SUBLIMATION”.

And Dean finally relents and says “Yeah, its kinda my thing”. (And then later in the diner he is seen to have eaten a whole slice of cake in front of Sam and no-one makes a big deal out of it….)

WE ALL SCREAMED. DEAN ACTUALLY IN THE SCRIPT, OUT LOUD, HAS SAID THAT HE SUBLIMATES.

Because THIS is Dabb again taking what has been IN THE SCRIPT and in the show for 12 years and building on it, making it BLATANT. Because we are building to endgame now, SPN isn’t likely to last past season 13-14, so the character arcs that were set up in season 1 (and 4 for Cas) need to be tied up, so we, the audience NEED it to be made obvious when it has just been in the subtext. THAT IS WHY SO MUCH IS SO BLATANT THIS SEASON. Ie Performing!Dean, Destiel, Sam and the MoL story, Mary being the catalyst for Dean’s self acceptance arc and Sam’s self forgiveness arc around Lucifer (which I think will be much more blatant next season re: Jack as his mirror).

With Performing!Dean it started to be made a bit more obvious since Sam told Dean that he was ‘kind of butch’ and people probably thought he was ‘overcompensating’ in season 2 but it still stayed subtext, Dean checking out a few guys here and there, only really getting with women when he was having his ‘I’m going to go to Hell and need comfort’ or ‘Sam is dead, Cas left’ moments or since he met Cas, whenever Cas had left, making Dean feel crappy and rejected or had just DIED, using it as a coping mechanism, even blatantly role playing in season 9 after he feels so bad about kicking Cas out of the bunker etc to the point that in 12x18 it is so blatant that this is what it is about, they even have Dean saying outloud that he is settling for Sam’s omelette mere seconds after clearly having settled for the waitress because she wasn’t what he really wanted on top of all the other give aways…

Anyway, it’s not just about his sexuality or feelings for Cas, there are many other aspects too, and those are the ones that are cemented in seasons 1-3. Most of these seem all to stem from John and if you see snippets from John’s journal it makes sense.

John says he is proud of Dean when he kills monsters, womanises, drinks etc etc. So guess what a young impressionable Dean learned was the best way to act in life?

Now, over the years bits have come out here and there. Every time we see Dean with a sexual partner he has been the submissive one, he is clearly an extremely giving lover and very caring. He is not a dude bro womaniser at heart, he cares for all the women he sleeps with enough to be kind and gentle with them, even the waitress in 12x18 who really he doesn’t REALLY CARE about, she’s just a coping mechanism, but he is still extremely sweet with her.

He drinks for years of course, he is a functioning alcoholic for most of the show, but lately he has switched to coffee… unless something really bad is going down. Like when we saw the empty bottle in his room in 12x19…

He listens to old rock music because it reminds him of his mom and dad, not because he is a real metal head. Yeah absolutely he loves it too I’m sure, but really it’s the emotional pull. And we haven’t heard him do so since 12x07. Just saying. He also admits to liking Taylor Swift in season 10, after firstly saying HELL NO, same with the cucumber water in 12x07. It’s not the music or the water or whatever as such, that is absolutely NOT what we are saying is making us feel Dean is bisexual or has a hidden side to himself, its the fact that he HIDES it first then admits to it afterwards, that is the essence of Performing!Dean.

When Sam drinks the cucumber water, no-one batted an eyelid, that means nothing to us, because Sam is super comfortable with who he is in THIS respect, even though he carries guilt etc, but that is another subject. But because Dean made a huge deal about how uncool and basically unmanly it was, after all we know of him over the years, THEN went and drank it anyway, saying “shut up” when Sam is like “seriously?!” THAT is where the Performing!Dean meta comes from. And Sam is the same as us, he doesn’t care if Dean is bi, or if he likes Taylor Swift or cucumber water or WHATEVER, what he DOES care about is the fact that Dean feels the need to hide it from him.

There are so many small points along the series that point to a lot of Dean’s persona being fake or exaggerated and how sometimes Sam knows and sometimes he doesn’t, it would be funny if it wasn’t tragic.

Deep down Dean Winchester is a soft, kind and generous soul who just wants to be loved and to help people.

WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT WE SAW IN 12x11. THIS IS THE EXPOSITION EPISODE FOR PERFORMING!DEAN AND THE CORE OF THIS WHOLE SEASON BECAUSE THE WHOLE SEASON HAS BEEN ABOUT THIS, WHICH IS WHY 12x22 IS THE CHARACTER LED FINALE, BECAUSE IT IS WHERE THIS FINALLY COMES DOWN.

So yeah, the fact of the matter is that Performing!Dean has been there all along, since the PILOT, over the years it has been showed to us that it exists then some of the walls have started coming down. If anyone dares to tell me that Performing!Dean isn’t a thing (which I was told earlier this season, lmao) then I will kindly point them towards 12x11 and 12x22.

Also, let us not forget that even though 12x11 was mostly an exposition for Performing!Dean when he lost his memories, again harking back to the HEART is the person, NOT their memories theme of the season, we also were given the golden snippet that DEAN RODE LARRY BEFORE HE GOT WACKED WITH MAGIC. This is to show us that Dean’s walls are coming down this season. When Sam called him up on it in a way that seemed to be taking the piss, Dean, rather than attempt to deny or tell him to shut up actually embraced it and gloated about how GOOD he was at it. ATTA BOY DEAN!

With the resurrection of Mary and Dean’s near - complete death experience it seems that Dean got to the point in season 12 where he just didn’t want to hide from himself anymore and so let these walls down further, there were small snippets of this in nearly EVERY episode. 

12x11 was the exposition for casual viewers to see this side of him more clearly (in the same way that 12x19 was for Dean and Cas’s clearly more than platonic relationship, which will not be built on with HUGE LEGO BRICKS since Cas died), and now with the grenade launcher as a metaphor, Dean literally blew down his walls in 12x22. The culmination of this story was his confrontation with Mary where he explains WHY he always had this facade, because he had a shitty childhood, had to be a parent to Sam and that it wasn’t FAIR and he didn’t cope with it well at all.

So. There we have it. Performing!Dean is REAL, it was there ALL ALONG, we were RIGHT in seeing it because it is confirmed in 12x11 and then addressed and to some extent dismantled in 12x22, and the meta idea that the grenade launcher is associated with Performing!Dean was ALSO used.

Just… wowzers.

I don’t expect Dean to suddenly act completely differently now, he won’t, there are just some aspects of him that will be slightly more obvious or he won’t hide certain parts of himself. He still isn’t completely done with this, as Jensen himself said that there will be more of this to come in season 13…

I expect him to perhaps once or twice order a slice of cake or an ice cream sundae, to listen to the radio and not turn it over if a pop song comes on, to be more open with his feelings towards his family (and yeah, Destiel is a part of this for sure), a nice turn around but also not jarring, because it’s just a PART of Dean, not his whole self, a lot of what we see is really fully him, so it’s not that he is going to completely radically change!

Anyway, its all very exciting as the metaphorical death of Performing!Dean is just a part of what most of us see as a positive endgame for TFW and it is all looking pretty good so far :D

[wardenalistair]

cHALLENGE ACCEPTED! I'm asking you RIGHT NOW about anders, because honestly, he's my favourite character in the whole series and i am still upset how the game makers treated him at the end of da2 and in dai :c

i gotchu, babes @shavothehusky @keyoshiwarriorindisguise @localnastyboy

LIKE

OKAY

lets just - talk about this shit

Awakenings anders is, like, quintessential anders: broken man who has seen horrors he can’t face on his best days and recognizes the injustices placed against his people but uses humour as a coping mechanism. The circle (something Anders endured for many years) is something I could go on and on about for a long time but I’ll summarize it with this description from an article I read online a while back: 

“The circle is, first and foremost, a movement founded on violence. Their recruitment process is “kidnapping children”. the Templars are heavily armed and not afraid to use force. Stripping a mage of their mind is barely considered an issue. The abuses of the templars are numerous and constant. The religion to which they adhere is a violent religion whose precept was a martyr who died in a war. It is a central tenet of the chantry that the darkspawn are divine punishment brought about by  -mages-.”

I believe that Anders wants to help (clearly) and when all that shit with Justice happens, it displays itself as an opportunity to do so. He wants to help a friend, save a friend, because he is able to and that’s who he is. That’s all he wanted to do. But then that hurt and fear that he carried with him gets morphed by the traits of his new companion and suddenly he’s a different man. Consumed by his pain, fuelled by his trauma, Anders is overcome by all the things he had been suppressing and can’t bring himself to ignore the issues any longer. 

DA2 rolls around and Anders, who didn’t know how else to help but to start a clinic, meets Hawke. In many playthroughs, they’re also a mage. Which I think is an interesting way to play the game. A mage with power not only financially and socially but also politically? Damn. Either way you play, Anders tags along and probably sees his association with Hawke as a means to present the Real Issues to the public. He has a platform! He has someone with him that others respect and he can’t be ignored now! Haha, funny joke right? Even with Hawke alongside you, and injustice staring everyone right in the face (see: every single mage-related quest in the game) PEOPLE STILL IGNORE IT. Hawke, even as a mage, can’t entirely understand it either. They have some privilege - in a sense - seeing as they have authority/some level of aristocracy and can be open about being a mage without the threat other mages face. Anders lives in Darktown, a run down ugly looking place constantly under the threat of crooks and thieves while Hawke lives in a god damn mansion in Hightown. What the fuck. 

People aren’t taking these issues seriously. They’re ignoring his complaints, ignoring the BLATANT oppression, and they just flat out don’t fucking care. When confronted by the mage rights issue, people either give some stupid excuse that not all mages are good people either and that they are just as morally gray as the Templars, citing blood magic as an example, or that they should just back down if they don’t want any trouble. Yeah, okay. Most mages that use blood magic are backed into a corner by - OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT - oppressors (coughtemplarscough). And ‘sit back, don’t get involved, and you won’t get hurt’ is the stupidest advice I’ve ever heard holy shit. Mages are being flat out tortured, abused, and stripped of their autonomy and personhood in the Circles for literally no reason half the time - but you’re supposed to shut up and deal with it. 

Almost every mage encountered in the game is either taken in, killed, or succumbs to blood magic and demons. CLEARLY what Meredith, Orsino, half of the companions, and even Hawke (depending on how you play the game) are suggesting doesn’t. work. To Anders, waiting around for it to get better or for people to realize they’re wrong isn’t working. Talking about the issues and presenting proof about the wrongs committed by the offenders (ANDERS WROTE A WHOLE DAMN MANUSCRIPT FOR FUCK’S SAKE) isn’t working. They’ve tried plans A through Y and they AREN’T. WORKING. In his mind, there is literally nothing left but drastic measures. People aren’t listening, they aren’t paying attention to what’s going on. They have their heads so far up their own privilege to even recognize that something’s wrong here. Anders has got to make them see. So - he does what he thinks will do just that. 

Now, I’m not here to say that blowing up a religious establishment full of some innocents and some enablers is the right thing to do but it’s what he did and I’m gonna talk about it. The Chantry was a huge symbolic figure in the plight for mage rights and it makes sense to target it. Blowing up the chantry was a big move. A move that would bring this issue to everyone’s attention, not just the people directly affected by it, and that was Anders’ goal. They can’t ignore it anymore. 

The trouble with this is: did Anders villainize mages even more than they already were?

If we look at how Hawke (and many other people) talk about Anders in DA:I then, yeah, he did. Even if Hawke romanced him, he’s deemed ‘crazy’ or ‘a monster’ and lord almighty does that bother me. The Bioware writers like to preach gray morality in the game and say that “nothing is obliviously right or wrong” but they sure do like blaming Anders for everything that goes wrong ever. He killed people. So did the templars. We, of course, now know that the Templars aren’t as straightforward as they were made out to be (that’s another conversation) but they aren’t without blame. Neither is Anders. But as he said: “there can be no compromises”.