#THIS VIDEO REDUCES ME TO FUCKING TEARS
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I NEED A SEQUAL TO YOUR AFAB!GOJO X READER
AFAB!GOJO x MALE!READER
Notes: listen listen, ur gonna be mad at me but I had to this was the only way I had seen it ending! AND IF YOU DONT LIKE IT JUST LMK AND ILL DO AN ALTERNATIVE ENDING! And I think you meant my recent one? The Afab gojo
Tags: Smut, mentions of Afab!Geto, titjob, cuckholding, The readers actions might not align with yours! Just wanted to let some of you guys know and reader is kind of a bastard. 😭
Pairings: Afab!gojo x male!reader
Satoru despises this right now, he hates it, after your night together, with you fucking him so good in your car, He finds himself wanting to so badly at night, hell even in the mornings hes going crazy. Rubbing his clit for so long it starts to sting, night after night he’s fucking himself with his fingers.
You weren’t lying when you said you had been watching Suguru for a while now, he sees your drifting eyes when he’s in your proximity, he sees it all. Satoru can admit his best friend really is pretty, gandering attention from men and women, he just wishes you weren’t apart of that crowd.
So he’s devised a plan to keep Suguru away from you at all times. He changes his and Sugurus route to school, (they live together and travel everywhere together) he has your classes memorized so that was also easy. Suguru had brought up questions about the changes but he quickly reassured him that nothing was wrong: that he just wanted a change of scenery.
Suguru doesn’t know you, and Satoru wants to keep it that way. He truly doesn’t know why he’s doing all of this for you, I mean he could definitely score someone “better” than you, funnier than you, and just a lot more nicer in general but he keeps finding himself craving you even more.
It seems to work, everything is working in his favor… but you.. you’re a little too quiet, over the years Satoru’s noticed you’re rather upfront with the people you want, so why haven’t you made an attempt at Suguru from the start?
“Attachment: 2 images”
His phone goes off again
“Attachment: 1 video”
Image one consists of Suguru on his knees, with his face covered in cum, seemingly your cum, and dried tears.
Image two is Suguru with his pretty tits, pressed up around your cock, a cute cloudy smile decorating his face.
Satoru feels like time has stopped around him, he doesn’t blame Suguru at all since he hadn’t known of his and yours weird relationship, but you, you’re a bastard through and through, But Satorus fingers don’t stop him from clicking on the video.
It’s Suguru with his legs spread on a table facing forward, facing the camera. He can see all of Sugurus bits, he can see the way you’re sliding in him inch by inch, he can hear Suguru whining at the mere stretch of you. Sugurus hand flies up to his mouth to muffle some of the groans spilling out, then you begin fucking him ruthlessly, even with this you’re still holding the camera perfectly, making sure to rub it in Satorus face even more.
He can hear the lewd wet slapping sounds of your pelvis meeting sugurus ass, the glistening of your slick mixing together already.
He knows Suguru can feel the sting in his pussy when you do slam back into him, knows that it feels so fucking mind numbing and good. You use one of your hands to push his leg towards his shoulder to get deeper and a better angle. Suguru is wrecked with loud sobs of pleasure, one of his hands maneuver to his clit and he begins circling it roughly.
Satoru feels his own clit needing to be touched, his panties are soaking wet three minutes into the video, interrupted he can hear Suguru talking or at least attempting: “please..please.. I wanna..” by this point his hair is strewn all over his face, sticking in some places, he doesn’t even seem to be all there, you’ve reduced the poor man into nothing.
Satoru feels awful, his heart feels heavy, his body is on fire, he doesn’t have anyone he can call at this late hour to help him release his frustrations. He uses his dildo that night, it doesn’t compare it never will, he fucks himself on it for hours and hours, repeating your video everytime. He’s milking his pussy till tears are streaming down his face, but his hips won’t stop.
#zsworks#geto x reader#satoru x male reader#afab gojo x male reader#geto x male reader#afab geto#afab gojo#jjk x male reader#Afab geto x male Reader#jjk smut#afab suguru#Afab suguru x male Reader
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Weird how transphobia and racism keep showing up at the same parties together.
After reducing the entire movie down to (Amandla’s) “excessive cleavage,” Lena somehow manages to unironically recommend that everyone go see Jennifer’s Body, a movie best known for it’s lack of cleavage. Like, at this point just say you hate Black people and gtfo.
Other relevant tweets that hit the nail on the head:
Finally, someone brave enough to come for truly the most powerful and over represented group - queer, Black women.
"I don't want anything more to come out of this... But now I will post this video which will 100% guarantee that more will come out of this, rather than, say, reply privately”
“I don’t want this person who has more social power than me to think that it’s fucking okay to do something like this.” <<image of Elizabeth Eckford being harassed by white women>>
Social power didn’t have a thing to do with this. It was a DM not a public exchange. This film critic brought “social power” into this by making it public over social media. Just a typical Karen/white tears situation.
It was a direct message? How is she display her “social power” if she came to you directly and privately? YOU made it public. 🤡
Here are more shots of what the characters wear throughout the film. (Also cannot stress enough that there’s not even any nudity in this movie, let alone a sex scene or anything resembling an ad for cleavage.)
Lord, if you're hearing this, I'm down for the worst day of my life being someone sending me a soft jab in a DM.
Let’s put the context behind the response. (video)
It needs to be noted that Lena Wilson apparently has some history of shitting on films with Black leads or mostly Black casts. This is a good example of white feminism™ that body shames, objectifies, sexualizes & polices Black people’s bodies; and seeks to replace privileged straight white male gatekeepers with privileged cis gay white gatekeepers. And when called out on her racialized misogyny, Lena retreats back to the familiar position of “powerless” white woman who was “attacked” and “victimized” for no reason. (Hint: this is a good example of weaponizing white femininity against BIPoC).
As much as Wilson likes to tell everyone she attained her “success” by hard work and pulling herself up by her own bootstraps, please remember that her mommy and daddy are prominent industry insiders. So her life hack, her secret sauce is just more of the same old “nepotism & being born into a privileged wealthy white family” that keeps journalism and Hollywood so disproportionately white.
#bodies bodies bodies#lena wilson#amandla stenberg#white feminism#body shaming#gate keeping#nepotism#karens#white fragility#victim envy
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lovers' quarrel (ross x girlband gf!reader angst)
day 5 of valentine's week. schedule clashes are getting to you. enjoy <3
you haven't spoken to your boyfriend in a week.
you're sleeping in the same bed as him, yeah, but ross is always asleep when you let yourself into his house at 11pm, body aching after a 12-hour day of dance rehearsals and video shoots and last-minute touch-ups to the instrumentals and harmonies and mixing on your band's new album. and you're always asleep when he leaves at 8am to drive to the studio to finish recording the new 75 LP (scheduled for release a month after yours), a kiss to your sleep-messy hair the only real bit of physical contact he gets to give you.
even your phone calls during studio breaks keep missing each other; you only hear your boyfriend's voice filtered through crackly phone lines, an obvious reminder that you're apart. in fact, the closest you've felt to ross in about eight days is when you use his body wash, in the freezing shower you take to soothe your screaming leg muscles before you get into bed with him.
you hate this. you miss him, so much.
ross misses you, too - he tells you at the end of every voicemail he leaves, paired with a “love you”, in such a defeated tone it brings tears to your eyes. you call him back, leave a similar message of your own, and go back into the rehearsal room and dance your heart out, as if it isn't breaking more with every passing second.
is this what life is always going to be like for the two of you, a loving relationship reduced to fleeting moments of getting to spend time with each other in between tours and shows and recording sessions and writing and promo? you're not sure how long you could take it, if it is.
but you love ross. so fucking much. surely you can do something to make it better for both of you.
the question is… what?
you're mulling over that on your lunch break, sat alone outside the studio complex with your tofu bowl and lucozade, thinking about how thursdays have always been the worst day of the week (double maths back in the day, and now the final full day of work left before you can actually maybe talk to your man for once), when the answer appears through the summer drizzle. well, actually, it's gabbriette who appears, dashing over to you from her (matty's) car and screeching as the rain hits her hair.
you laugh, standing and letting her barrel into your arms. “hi, wifey.”
“baby girl!” she kisses your nose. “you look gorgeous.”
“gabs, i've been dancing for three hours straight. i look like shit.”
“but hot shit. like, super sexy shit,” she grins. “how's everything going? do i get a sneak peek of the new video?”
you smirk. “depends. did matty send you down here to spy on us?”
gabbriette laughs. “he's too stressed to even think of suggesting anything that smart. no, actually, i'm just here to see how you're doing,” her beautiful face shifts into a more serious expression. “because when i asked your boyfriend how you were, literally thirty minutes ago, he very cryptically said he didn't know.”
“ah.”
“he did then explain that you guys hadn't broken up, but it scared me,” she squeezes your hand. “you okay? like, i know you're both so busy - george is literally pushing the guys to the limit in the studio right now - but…”
you sigh. “yeah, we’re just so busy that we keep missing each other, that's all - i get home when he's sleeping, he leaves before i wake up, and we're never free to call at the same time. like, i didn't even know that thing you just said about george, because we haven't talked for days,” you slide down the wall to sit, and gabbriette follows. you sniffle. “he sleeps right beside me, but i miss him like he's continents away. and i hate it, gabs, i really hate it.”
“oh, baby,” she puts her arm around you and kisses your head. “it'll get better soon, though, won't it? you finish here tomorrow afternoon, right?”
“yeah, but,” you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “then the boys get to this manic stage i'm in now, then i have to do promo, and they have to do promo, and i just don't know when it'll end.”
“i know the feeling,” gabbriette sighs. “it's not easy, us being us, loving the people we do. but that's the way it is, i guess. we just gotta,” she half-heartedly punches the air. “push through it.”
“mmm,” you take a drink of your juice. “what i wouldn't give to just have dinner with him, you know? go somewhere nice for a night, and think about nothing but the two of us.”
your friend turns to face you. “so, why don't you? make a reservation for tomorrow night. surprise him when he gets home. clichè, but,” she winks. “i'm sure ross won't complain about coming home to you all dressed up and gorgeous. i know i wouldn't.”
you burst out laughing. “you're gonna lose your shit when we go inside and you get to see my album cover outfit, babe.”
“oh my god,” she presses her face into your shoulder, then sits up with a smile. “but seriously. i know you're exhausted, and so is he, but plan a date, have fun, make it a regular thing. you guys are perfect together; don’t let that slip away.”
“alright. thank you for the support,” you hug her. “i love you.”
“i love you, angel girl,” gabbriette pulls back and kisses your nose again, before standing and helping you up. “now, i am dying to see what you and the girls have been cooking up. shall we?”
you link your arm through hers. “let's go.”
***
when you hear the key in the lock, you brush down your dress a final time and hurry into the hallway. your heart skips at the sight of ross - clearly exhausted - stepping through the door; you can't keep the smile from your face, and one appears on his after he kicks his shoes off and turns towards you.
he exhales. “god, you're a sight for sore eyes. hi, love,” his arms open, and you run into them and allow yourself to be wrapped up in your boyfriend. “missed you this week.”
“missed you, too,” you nuzzle into his neck. “how are you, darling?”
“perfect, now that i've got you in my arms,” his smile is audible. “not letting you out of them for a second, by the way. need to catch up on holding my girl.”
you giggle. “what about dinner?”
“i can eat pizza with you on my lap on the sofa, can't i?”
oh. your heart feels slightly heavier than it did a second ago. “that's… what you want to do for dinner?”
you do your best to keep your voice light, but ross doesn't miss a trick. he pulls back, frowning slightly. “yeah. something calm, after us both being so busy this week,” he seems to notice your dress for the first time, brow furrowing even further when he takes in your polished appearance. “but that's not what you want, is it?”
“well, baby,” you let go of him, wringing your hands nervously. “i’ve, um, made a reservation at that place you like down the street. for tonight.”
ross pinches the bridge of his nose. “why would you do that, sweetheart?”
your jaw falls open. what? “oh, i just thought it might be nice to go out. save us doing the washing up,” the joke falls flat, but you clear your throat and continue. “and, you know, i’m home now, not coming in exhausted at midnight or whatever, for once, and i-”
“oh, okay,” ross laughs mirthlessly, and your blood runs cold. “just because you're not tired, i should forget my own tiredness and force myself to go out for an overpriced meal i don't even want to eat right now? just because?”
you don't think you've ever felt smaller in your life, and your voice shows it. “no, i just thought-”
“exactly. you just thought, about yourself, not me,” ross hangs up his jacket, shaking his head. “i mean, really, love? you of all people know what it's like, burning yourself out in the studio every day. is it really so surprising that i wanted to come home, to my own house, and just spend the night there?”
something inside you just snaps, and your next words shoot from your lips like bullets. “no, i fucking know the feeling, ross,” you glare at him when he turns to look at you, slight shock on his face at your sudden aggression. “66 hours i've worked, this week, across five days, and at the end of every single one of them i've wanted nothing more than to go straight home to my flat and collapse onto my bed. but d'you know what i've done instead?” you laugh, manic. “i've driven here and stayed with you, because i thought that even if we couldn't spend time together properly, at least we were with each other in some way. and you can't even be nice about the fact i wanted to do something special for us tonight. because, yeah, i was thinking about us when i did it.”
ross looks at you for a second, then shrugs. “well, i didn't ask you to do any of it.”
you nod, biting your trembling lip. “right,” you squeeze past him, picking up your handbag from the console table. tears prick at your eyes as you open the front door. “enjoy your fucking pizza, then.”
a sob escapes your lips as the door slams behind you, tears hitting off the steps as you hurry down them towards your car. with shaking hands, you rifle through your bag to find your keys, unlocking the door and climbing inside so you can cry in peace and figure out where to go. you half-expect ross to follow you, knock on the window, apologise… but nothing. the front door stays closed. even the blinds in the front room don’t move.
you're tempted to wait to see how long it would take him to come after you. but it's not a great look for you to be sitting outside his house in tears, and - to be honest - you don't really want to see him right now, anyway. you need to go somewhere. not your flat, because that's the first place he'd look for you - if he even decides to bother, that is. no. you need to go somewhere else, be with other people, people who love you. but not your bandmates, because that would be ross's next point of call.
and then, it hits you - gabbriette. you scroll through your contacts until you find her number, and hit call; what you don't expect, however, is for her boyfriend to answer. “hi, darling!”
“oh, hi, matty,” you sniffle. “did i dial you? i thought i'd called gabs.”
“no, you did, she just got me to answer because she’s making dinner,” he replies, his girlfriend audibly yelling in greeting in the background. “speaking of dinner… i thought you and ross were meant to be out right now? everything alright?”
you don't say anything in response, just burst into tears down the phone. matty sighs. “oh, fuck. come over, darling. i'll open the wine now.”
“thank you,” you say between sobs. “i'll see you in a bit.”
when you get to his house twenty minutes later, you reckon the two of them must have been standing at the door waiting for you; as soon as you ring the bell, it opens, and you're enveloped into a group hug so tight you can't tell who's who.
matty kisses your head when the hug ends. “just wanna say,” he begins, passing you a ridiculously large glass of red wine. “that while ross is my best friend, he will hear nothing of what's about to be said tonight. so… yeah. rip him to shreds.”
“oh, i intend to,” gabbriette squeezes your hand. “he came home to you looking like that and he didn't wanna go out with you? stupid boy.”
you wince. “gabs…”
“sorry, sorry. but i'm right,” she turns to matty. “don’t you think, baby?”
he nods. “he's an idiot,” something beeps in the kitchen, and gabbriette squeaks and runs towards it. matty puts an arm around you. “come on. we'll have a seat, and you can tell us everything.”
“okay.”
and you do just that, settled next to matty on the kitchen counter so gabs can hear and react while she cooks; you aren't quite sure you'd be able to make it through reliving the argument without the plates of focaccia she keeps laying on your lap, to be honest. anyway - both of them react quite accordingly to your story, dropped jaws and wide eyes and utterances of “he said that?” punctuating your words.
matty shakes his head when you finish talking, putting a hand on top of yours in a brotherly way. “i'm sorry, darling. he can be a moody bastard at times, i know, but that's… that's awful.”
“i get that he's tired and he didn't want to go out,” you sigh, taking a drink of your wine. “but he didn't need to make me feel like a stupid bitch for suggesting it,” you well up again. “and now i don't know where i am with him.”
“oh, baby,” gabbriette runs over to kiss your hair and hug you. “listen, you'll stay here tonight - we'll have a good time, talk shit, have some wine, and then we can figure your love life out tomorrow. cool?”
you look between the two of them, nervous. “i don't want to intrude…”
“oi, none of that,” matty squeezes your hand. “what kind of brother would i be if i didn't take of my little sister?”
“love you, mate,” you hug him, then turn to gabs. “both of you.”
“and we love you,” she kisses your cheek. “me more than him. seriously, i love you so much.”
matty laughs. “she’s right, actually,” he says to you. “came home raving about the sneak peek of the album she got yesterday,” he looks at you pointedly.
you roll your eyes. “fine, i'll tell you about it.”
“fuck yeah!”
you're still telling them all about the album and its processes when ross makes contact, almost two hours after you left his house. matty's phone rings, the contact photo (an old selfie of the two boys) visible to all three of you; the atmosphere changes from buzzy to sombre when you see it.
matty looks at you. “i don't have to answer it if you don't want me to.”
you look at the buzzing phone, the picture of your boyfriend on the screen filling you with a weird mix of emotion. “no, it's ok.”
“you sure?”
you nod. “if he asks where i am, you can tell him,” you murmur, looking at the floor. “i don't want him to worry.”
“right, darling,” matty takes your hand, and picks up his phone with the other. “alright, mate?”
gabbriette hugs you as ross speaks, inaudible to you; you're thankful for her support, because your stomach's in knots waiting for matty to reply. his eyes flick to yours, nervous. “yeah, she’s here,” he says, squeezing your hand. “she’s alright now, but… she really wasn't when she first arrived. surprised she managed to drive here, to be honest - that's how upset she was.”
you chew your bottom lip as ross says something else. matty quirks his eyebrows. “depends if your girlfriend wants to see you or not, mate.”
gabbriette squeezes you tighter. you shrug, and mouth “need to get it over with anyway”; matty grimaces, and relays the message to your boyfriend. “she's not opposed. but,” he shifts in his seat. “don't expect a warm welcome. that includes from me, too - it's none of my business, and i love you, but seeing my friend cry like that was fucking heartbreaking. i can't believe you could be so cruel.”
god, you love your friends.
you smile as matty wraps up the call. “yeah, i can imagine you feel awful about it; i'd be worried if you weren't. and yeah, i'll tell her, alright?” he gives you a thumbs up. “see you soon.”
“he's on his way?” you ask once the call ends.
“he went to yours. freaked out when you weren't there. so, he'll be here in five,” matty looks at you tentatively. “and i've to tell you he's extremely sorry and also that he loves you more than anything and finally that he’s a cunt for what he said.”
“i coulda fuckin told you that last bit,” gabbriette mutters. she smiles at you, though. “but the other bits are, you know, promising.”
“yeah,” you murmur. “shall we go and wait for him, then?”
she kisses your cheek. “if that's what you want, sure.”
true to his word, ross knocks the door five minutes later; you sit on the stairs in the hallway, gabs in front of you protectively (at her insistence), while matty answers. “hi.”
“alright?” ross's face isn’t properly visible from the angle you're at, but you can hear from the scratchiness of his voice that he's been crying. it hurts you to think about that. “can i come in?”
matty nods, stepping back to let him in. ross follows, an awkward dance, and immediately sees you. his face crumples. “hi, love.”
you wave. you're not sure if you can speak.
ross looks at gabs. “can i, um, talk to my girlfriend alone for a second?”
she turns to you. “you cool with that?”
you nod. she kisses your cheek and stands, staring ross down as she walks over to matty and they leave the room. once they've gone, ross flinches. “has she always been so scary?”
“you would be exactly the same way if she hurt matty,” your voice is hoarse, your crying just as obvious as your boyfriend's.
“yeah, s'pose,” ross takes a tentative few steps towards you, gesturing towards the stairs. “can i sit?”
“mhmm.”
“thanks,” he takes a seat on a step a few down from you, turning so he can talk to you properly. “i'm sorry, love, i really am. and i don't really have an excuse for being such a dickhead, other than tiredness, which isn't even an excuse because you've been more exhausted than i am and you still made the effort to do something nice for both of us,” he takes a shaky breath. “you look beautiful, by the way, even now; slightly off-topic, i know, but i just had to say it.”
“thanks,” you say quietly, picking at your cuticles. “thought you'd like this dress.”
“i love it,” ross smiles sadly. “i love you. and the fact that i hurt you… i feel fucking terrible about it,” his lip trembles. “i love you more than anything, or anyone, and i don't want to lose you. the thought of it fucking terrifies me, and,” he begins to cry, and your heart aches. “i worry that i'm not enough for you. i worry that i don't do enough for you, take you out enough. i worry that you'll get bored of me, bored of making all the effort, bored of sitting at home watching football or films, and one day you'll just leave me.”
what?
“oh, ross,” your heart shatters, and you scooch down to sit next to him and hug him.
“m'sorry, i know i'm the one in the wrong, but i have to be honest,” he cries into you. “when you said you wanted to go out instead of stay in, i freaked that i was boring you. and then when you brought up staying at mine instead of yours…”
“you thought it was me saying i was fed up.”
“yeah.”
“oh, baby,” you start to cry, too. “no. it was me just being pissed about you trying to say i didn't know the feeling of wanting to go home when you're tired. i didn't mean it in any other way, honest.”
“no, i know, my love. i was just scared.”
“why, though?” you look him in the eye. “you're the love of my life, ross. you're more than enough for me - everything i need, and more.”
he sniffles. “did you mean to quote beyoncé there, or…?”
“well, no, but it was apt,” you giggle, stroking his dimples when he smiles. “look, i was hurt by the way you reacted to me - an ‘oh, that's nice, love, but could we go out tomorrow night instead?’ wouldn't have gone amiss. but,” you kiss his nose. “i accept your apology, and i love you and our relationship very much, just as they are. just don't ever fucking treat me like that again, alright?”
“i promise you i won't, love,” ross kisses your nose in return. “i love you. and i'm sorry i was a grumpy shit about dinner, because i'm fucking starving now.”
you laugh, kissing his neck. “i reckon gabs has got us covered there. but if not,” you grin. “we can always get a pizza.”
“you're never letting me live that one down, are you?”
“not a fucking chance.”
#mads muses#mads does writing#valentine75#girlband gf#ross macdonald fanfic#ross macdonald fanfiction#ross macdonald fic#ross macdonald angst#ross macdonald x reader#ross x reader
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something with denji and his jealous!boyfriend? Maybe reader records them fucking 💀💀💀
I'm hoping you meant Denji from chainsaw man cause I've been waiting for this one
Enjoy this short Drabble
How long has it been? You've had Denji here for what? Hours! His porcelain skin was now covered in bite marks and bruises. His usual toothy smile was transformed into a fucked out grin.
"PlEase keep f-fucking me!" Denji cried into his tear filled pillow. It was an amusing sight. The scary chainsaw man was reduced to a moaning mess. For the past hour or so, you'd been drilling into your boyfriend from behind. A black dog collar was firmly secured around his neck. Connected to it was a matching leash that was wrapped around your hand.
With a harsh pull, you pulled on the leash forcing Denji out of the pillows under him. "How'd you think Makima will react to me fucking her doggy? Look at you acting like a bitch in heat for a quick fucking!" You laughed at his pathetic form. Your boyfriend could only gargle as he chocked on his own spit.
"Tch! Fucked dumb already? You're no fun..." Harshly, you shove your boyfriend's face back into the pillows. His body trembled as he came for the nth time that night. It really was a sight to see...
You continued to watch the video you recorded of Denji from the night before. His high pitched whimpers were almost heard through your earbuds. Your cheeks reddened from the memory.
You had multiple clips of the two of you. If you added up the minutes, it would probably be more than 5 hours worth of content. It was all you had to remind you of who Denji truly belonged too. With a sigh, you open the door to Makima's office. The familiar sight of Denji practically drooling over the woman made you clench your fist.
'I'm gonna have to make another video...'
I did say I would try and include Twitter links so enjoy this 😗🫣
Link Link Link
#chainsaw man#chainsaw man x reader#denji#denji x reader#denji x male reader#sub denji#sub chainsaw man
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hiiiiiii 🥰💗
i would love to hear what you think eren and jean’s kinks are 🙊 plz&ty
omg tiff....i have successfully packed so u submitted at the best time. pls allow me to answer this as well as i can without drooling.
nsfw below the cut minors dni!
Eren
eren is super into overstimulation. like wants to have you a sobbing mess before he even puts it in. loves when you beg him to stop (dw u have a safe word so he knows ur fine) but you wanted this? grinding on my leg while i was trying to work? you deserve this
very much a brat tamer. doesn't like an extremely submissive partner, he wants you to have some teeth with him, push back a little. it just makes it that much more fun to break you
i cannot stress how many photos/videos this man takes of you. HUGE diy porn guy. if he holds down on his phone background, it's a picture of you with his dick down your throat. look so pretty like this, with my cum all over your face. just one more picture, okay? now smile for me
dacryphilia. 2000% sure that he's into dacryphilia. again it goes hand in hand with the overstimulation thing. he just wants to mentally break you
marking fs. like you have bruises and hickeys all over you after every time you sleep together. literally even if it's just a one night stand, eren has to let people know you were his, even if it was just for the night
breedingkinkbreedingkinkbreedingkink. that's all i'll say about that.
absolutely develops a lactation kink once you're pregnant. everything about your pregnant body fascinates him
would totally let you dom him, just once or twice to get a feel for it. it's a little entertaining to him, how you try and hold him down, but you end up bringing him close to tears and he escapes the ropes you've tied him up in, and now you're really in for it
Jean
orgasm denial. look, out of the two, eren's actually the softer dom if you look into it, because he gives you what you want to an excess.
not jean. he loves to set little rules for you (no panties when you're out at dinner, no masturbating while he's gone on a long trip unless he asks you for a video) and secretly, he loves when you fall short.
just something about bringing you right up to the edge over and over again and then listening to you cry and whine when he takes it back from you really does it for him
also a dacryphilia guy, but the opposite side of the coin from eren. he wants you crying for him, begging him to help you because you're so strung out after the fifth time he's edged you
i actually see jean being into the rougher stuff more than eren- choking, impact play, etc. he loves to push you to your limits and see how much you can take
DEGRADATION. jean strikes me as such a degradation guy. bc you're his little princess, sure, but once the bedroom door shuts, what gets him hard is how you beg for him, reduced to nothing but a needy, whiny little thing after only a few minutes of teasing. "wow, you're that desperate for me? fucking pitiful, thought i taught you better. you can have it down your throat, or not at all. what sounds better?"
also really heavy on the breeding kink, but almost in a freaky, possessive way tbh. tells you he wants to knock you up so everyone knows that he takes you home and fucks you. 10/10 recommend.
cockwarming. jean is such a cockwarming guy and i will literally never argue this point. he's all about having all of you for himself, loves to cum in you and just snuggle after, not pulling out or anything.
also uses it to deny you. will make you sit in his lap, nestled deep inside of you, and like, read him a book or tell him about your day while you whimper and whine and try to move your hips
free use. again, one of those things i don't feel like i need to elaborate on.
this made me sweat. like panting in my bed. thank u tiff u have really fucked us all up with this one!!!!!
#this was fun#my mean#eren jaeger x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#eren x reader#jean x reader#eren jaeger headcanons#aot x reader#aot x reader headcanons#jean kirschstein headcanons#rage.rambles#ask games#tiff.moot
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i saw *this tweet, and i had to write it.... happy valentines dayyyy🫶🫶💞💗🙈🙈
tags : NSFW, gn reader, multiple choice words/dialogue, rockstar!baxter but not mentioned so he could just be a pain in your ass, so ooc, he's a Bit toxic <333, situationship/FWB, bottom reader, (mean) dom baxter, creampie, mention of his neighbor having a crush on you, you're loud. the whole block hears you. he's getting kicked out tmrw--
synopsis : valentines day with rockstar!baxter.. as always, he butters you up and then fucks you like a dog. then showers you with gifts again in the morning <3
when he messages you a crude text about keeping the 14th open, not asking- telling you. you wanna hit him
but as he does sometimes, he ends up surprising you
when you go to his dinky studio apartment, you see he's set it up all nice for the occasion
baxter's in a three piece suit, there's rose petals everywhere (you ignore the heart he drew out of them on the bed...), candles, and he even decorated the table for dinner! he also pulls out the extra nice wine and cooks in front of you, not letting lift a single finger!
"you're my date, all you gotta do, is sit there 'n look pretty for me.."
it's a very nice start to your date, makes you forget that he's not always a gentleman, and that 97% of the time, he's giving you a headache
but somehow, you go from laughing and flirtatious looks, to cuddling on the couch...
to getting your guts rearranged on his queen bed.
he's gentlemanliness doesn't last long, because unless you grab him by the neck and take it off yourself, he ends up ripping your outfit
even if he promises to fix it or buy you two outfits, he's still a bully
mmm probably decides he wants to start the night off with you on top of him, makes you bounce on his lap and do all the work by yourself...
even if you're whining, needing his help to move your hips, he still won't give in! which is really cruel since he'd eat / rim you out within an inch of your life, helping you move is the least he could do!
don't worry though, because after you've reduced yourself to weak, shaky knees and watery eyes, your sex absolutely drooling slick / pre down your thighs / length,
he carries you to the bed and throws your legs over his shoulders, fucking you so shallow, and so deep... you can't even think because his pretty cock is grinding against your g-spot, and he's rubbing your sensitive clit / tip, smearing your arousal all over your sex
he coos at how pretty you look too, tells you how gorgeous you are split on his cock and that you look even better with your valentines day clothes all bunched up, your makeup ruined...
is he picking on you a bit? maybe.
but he does pick one of the rose petals out your hair, isn't he so nice? <3
he's still a bully though. as always.
because by the end of the night, he has you ass up and your face buried in the pillows to muffle your moans, and you're all but sob into the pillow, clutching onto the sheets trying not to hit your head against the wall
"quiet down, before my neighbors complain about the noise again"
as if he isn't the one always rearranging your guts at 3 in the morning, or sending you some obscene video of him alone in his room, showing you just how much he misses you.
pulls you against his chest and starts nibbling on your already bruised neck, purring in your ear, still jackhammering into your tight heat.
starts talking about how that neighbor is probably listening to you get fucked, how he probably hears the bed hitting the wall and your whorish moaning, and that he's probably gonna cum in his pants just hearing you cuss, stutter, and call out his name
don't bother muffling your moans, because he pries your mouth open, shoves his fingers in and fucks you harder
"don't muffle your sounds, baby. let him hear you. let the whole fucking complex hear you."
kisses your tears off your cheek, tells you you're so good, so cute
reaches between your legs, wraps his arm around your waist to stop you from squirming, leans over you until your face is buried in the pillows again and now you have no choice but to take his dick and let him stroke your clit / cock, your sex making a big mess on his cock / in his hand.
the room is filled with sounds of shlick-shlick-shlick from your wet sex and baxter's quick, rough fucking, your loud moans and whines, and baxter's headboard about to knock the wall down.
one more deep thrust is what pushes you both over the edge, your sex squirting your spend over the bed, soaking the silky sheets, and baxter finishes inside, groaning lowly into your ear...
by the end of the night you're sweaty, there's rose petals stuck to your skin, any makeup you have on is smudged and/or rubbed off onto baxter's pillowcase (at least they're black?...)
plus you're covered in bites n hickeys, cum running down your thighs..
at least he runs you a bath and massages your aching muscles, and he even buys you pancakes in the morning! and draws a heart on the stack with syrup <33
(just ignore the plan b and the teddy bear with a note reading "sorry for fucking your brains out ♥️")
also don't be too embarrassed when you do the walk of shame out his house, just... try not to make eye contact with that aforementioned neighbor who is blushing bright red when he sees you, or the scandalized grandma... at least he's driving you home so you don't have to walk back in his clothes, looking like you just got the best dicking of your life
#valentines day#olba#our life: beginnings & always#baxter ward#smut#our life baxter#baxter ward smut#baxter ward x reader smut#baxter ward x reader
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Your talks about Missa's mischaracterization are exactly why I made a post specifically asking for Missa mains to give me their analyses for me to reference in Awake Me From My Nightmare.
I even went as far as to slap some parts of the post in Google Translate encouraging Spanish qsmp fans to reply to me and I'd just have someone translate their analysis for me. Which I did (thank u Kami ily). And I was so fucking happy when more of my responses came from Spanish speaking fans than English. Peak QSMP moment <3
But anyway yeah. Missa's characterization has been lowkey my biggest concern writing the fic tbh. I wanna do him justice. He definitely isn't written as a pathetic woobified uwu cinnamon roll, that's for sure.
I've been staring very hard at the paragraphs people gave me on his character and I THINK I've been doing a decent job at balancing the "gets overwhelmed by things" wet cat side Crows see AND the "um actually he could kick your ass and can be a bitchy little shit" reality?? Mans is getting lots of moments where he's like "fuck this" and gets ready to Literally Fight God. There's still lots of tears, but like, if YOUR husband was in front of you covered in his own blood and lookin like he's rapidly wasting away in real time, you'd be an emotional wreck too. So I'm decently confident in his characterization, but I still have that "AAAAA I HOPE I'M DOING THIS RIGHT" worry. 100% gonna be clinging to comments from readers about if I did him justice. So far I've characterized everyone (Phil, Fit, Etoiles) super well according to readers. 😭🙏🏻 Hoping I keep up the streak with Missa in Chapter 3.
The discussion you've been having is exactly why I'm doing my best to do him actual justice. And I might actually read back through your posts and translate the Spanish bits just to get even more insight. I don't see enough people talking about qMissa like this.
And on a semi-related note, GOD I wish there were more YouTube clip compilations of Missa moments. Like idec if they're not just qsmp, I want more of them in general!! Idk if I just wasn't searching well enough or what but when I went looking a while back, there were MAYBE 2 videos at all, let alone Eng subtitled so I could understand them. And rooting through Tumblr for clips is a pain. 💀
Tldr thanks for talking abt this Rakk, this is exactly why I've been busting my ass trying to not write Missa reduced to one trait or the other. Tbh I've been seeking out proper analysis/understanding of qMissa even before I was writing him in a fic. Bc I KNOW what we Crows see is a fraction of his character.
ISAAAA you're doing God's work honestly, the "fights God through tears" is peak qmissa characterization akfknsjx
I do think we need more translated Missa content, sadly like the best thing you can get is qsmp clips translated or someone on twt decided to translate this one bit from his videos (like him having a crush on a pineapple)
it's sad that it doesn't get talked about how clever the guy is and while the fix is pretty easy (just getting more missasaurios to talk about him) it's just a case of bothering to translate stuff cuz that shit takes time and effort
as well as missa's miscaracterization not being talked about as much cuz a lot of the ppl who talk abt him are English crows who think he's a sopping wet cat<- i am BEGGING for people to unlearn this word it's making me insane
#ask tag#Isa-ghost#hi Isa thanks for reading my posts I maybe care alot about characterization and Canon and I also want my guy to get justice#qsmp missa
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dear white bandom tumblr, what the hell do you want us to say?
i’m tired. i’m really, really tired.
look, what do you want us to say at this point? this was supposed to be a safe space, for the freaks and the outcasts, but we’ve long established that it is very much not safe. it’s crystal fucking clear.
and honestly, pretty much every white user on here is actively contributing to the hostility here. whether you like it or not, it’s not good to only reblog empty reassurances of anti-racism that do more service to yourself than to others. it’s not good to see poc on the dash trying to educate the white majority and doing everything possible to educate you, and either A) ignore it, B) like it, but don’t reblog it, because god forbid you sit with your discomfort for more than five seconds, or C) send racist anon hate to the original poster, or try to deflect their points. it’s not good to see something racist and let it slide. let me get this straight: none of these fans of color owe you anything. fans of color don’t owe you the time of day, fans of color don’t owe you education, and fans of color don’t owe you the dignity of a levelheaded reply in response to your racist comments.
often times, we try to educate because we want this space to change. i mean, i didn’t have to write a five paragraph essay dissecting anti asian racism in mcr’s content. i did it because i was angry, and tired, and frustrated, and wanted the space to change. the same reason that every other ignored dissection and analysis that spent blood, sweat, tears, and emotional labor to make was created. a lot of the time you guys just don’t understand how much effort things like that take. and to be clear, this is not just the usual “oh my post didn’t go viral and i’m not a celebrity i’m so sad,” this is “i poured all of myself into trying to educate people that turned out to never care. i have been blatantly shown that the people around me aren’t interested in changing, no matter how much they claim to be.”
and like, do you want me and countless other users to go in depth again? do you want us to jump from racist incident to racist incident? to hold your hand through explaining why making art of ray being arrested is bad, why gerard’s fetishization of asian people is bad, why making rising sun art and designs is bad, why reducing all of pete wentz’s work to being about mikey way is bad, why shaming people with non-european features for “not looking emo enough” is bad, why insulting and degrading pete and ray for their natural features is bad, why cropping ray out of tour videos is bad, why calling people slurs in their askboxes is bad? (and so much more that i didn’t add.) do you want us to go over the history of racism in alternative spaces as a whole? do you expect us to do all of those things for you on a whim, to make it palatable to you, as if we weren’t real people with real feelings behind the screen and as if we had infinite time and emotional energy? really? when there are many resources already out there, both online and offline?
what all this tells me is you don’t see us as human. simple as that. you expect us to be able to take the abuse, to be able to silently let your racism pass, and if we ever speak up, you ignore the work we give to you and demand inhuman feats of patience and generosity, answering your every question and responding to your every debate and coddling you as you refuse to sit with the reality of the space you’ve helped to create. and that’s only if you claim to be on our side.
it’s insane hearing you try to placate yourselves. trying to mindlessly agree without looking inward. i know this sounds harsh, but i know that most of you need to hear it. i just want this space to actually change, like i was begging for back in january and february. of course, i was foolish to believe that it ever would. and i’m foolish now, writing this as if people are ever going to pay attention. even if it does break a few hundred notes, it’s not like the message is going to stick around. sure, you’re “doing the work”, “listening and learning”, but how am i supposed to know that when your responses never change, and this scene stays the same as it ever was?
#seb speaks#mcr#fob#my chemical romance#fall out boy#gerard way#frank iero#ray toro#mikey way#pete wentz#bandom racism#racism cw#long post#prematurely turning asks and replies off#if you want to say something say it with your chest.#i'm literally terrified to post this because i KNOW white fans will be mad about#having to sit with discomfort#but. idk it needs to be said#if you don't hear from me for a while just know that the pressure from them got too much#this wasn't sparked by anything in particular i had just been noticing it for ages and ages and got fed up as usual
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Actually no I AM gonna go on a rant about Vale because it kills me and the way it's treated compared to the other albums KILLS ME.
I get why they don't like to acknowledge it I really do. It was not a great era for the band overall and Vale is sort of the representation of that. I've seen the videos of them performing Vale (This Is Where It Ends) with tears in their eyes. But that's ALSO WHY it's so heartbreaking that it's barely acknowledged. Not only is it musically a good album, conceptually it is the crystalized form of all of bvb's struggles and hardships. It is the most desperate sounding album, it's a cry for help. But here's the thing, to acknowledge that cry for help is IMPORTANT. Vale is the final chapter of the wild ones yes but that veneer is SO thin like it doesn't take much critical thinking to understand that Vale is at its core about the band itself. To acknowledge that your band was at the brink of destruction, that this thing you nurtured since you were 16 years old was dying, it's as important as saying that you're here. Because you're ACKNOWLEDGING that you survived. Here's all of the hardships and struggles and look at us we made it out alive. You cannot have a phoenix rising from the ashes without it first burning alive.
And on that note yes they play Wake Up it's a setlist staple BUT reducing Vale to just Wake Up doesn't do the album justice at all, in fact I think it does it a disservice and that's coming from THEEE Wake Up girlie. Wake Up is, arguably, the most and one of the only triumphant songs on the album, maybe only My Vow could be considered triumphant as well. Wake Up is the classic bvb battle cry, the rally to say that we will be here even when they're all gone. In its own context, that's all it is. But what about all of the other songs? Most every other song in some way has that tone of desperation or dread or anxiety. I swear this time is gonna be the last one, I'm gonna get out if it's the last thing that I do, I'm not the hope, I could keep going and naming lyrics but the fact of the matter is that this album is not appreciated the way it damn well should be.
And maybe in the future they'll come back around to it. Maybe in the future we'll get an acknowledgement on the album's anniversary and they'll play more songs from it. Maybe in the future it'll have a resurgence and be as respected as the rest of bvb's discography. But until then, I'm gonna scream it from the fucking rooftops even if I'm the only voice that does. Vale is a good album. It is part of your history. It is a battle scar, and one that should be worn proudly.
#black veil brides#bvb#vale#vale bvb#valeposting#maeve.txt#this wasn't spurred by anything in particular#i was just ranting about this to motley a few days ago and needed to get my thoughts out more#I just think this album deserves so much more than being ignored besides the one (1) single#if none of this makes sense just like let me be
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Hey I'm healing from top surgery so I'm gonna masterwork the stages of healing I've been experiencing cause people are always leaving shit out :D
• You will sleep. Often.
So, basically after I got my surgery done, I had a whole concoction of medication and all of it knocks you the *fuck* out. If you fight it, you're simultaneously fighting God. That being said, take it. It's made to make your existence more bearable. Because if you're Top Surgery came with liposuction, like mine did, wherever you had liposuction will hurt. So just count on doing just about fuck all during that first week.
• You will need help, accept it.
And I mean with things you don't think you should need help with. Yes, getting tall things, but also in that first week and ESPECIALLY the first couple of days post op, you might even need help getting out of bed, opening doors.
The general rule here is you can't life anything over 15lbs, but *really* it's "you can't do anything where you can feel your stitches pulling" which is basically everything sans going to the bathroom. For me, the hardest thing was being so in need of assistance, that I legitimately couldn't lift my torso up enough to get out of bed, I figured it out after day 3 though.
• You will probably have to have drains, get over it. And yes. They suck, but for a specific reason.
Everyone talks about how shitty drains are, but I've never heard them say *why* drains suck because they hurt after a period of time. Usually around end of week 1, and for me, all of week 2. By week 2, I legitimately wanted to Rio these Fulkerson out.
But I wanted to rip them out because of a bunch of reasons.
1. They werr placed in a way where i couldn't see them and had limited access to the insertion site, closer to my back than my side. This made it very hard to deal with near the end for reason 2.
2. They fucking itch, and if they don't itch, they legitimately hurt. (This is why that pain medication is helpful imo.) The insertion site has loose stitches keeping the drains in your body, and your skin eventually wants to heal around it, now imagine constantly itching and/or aching, in a place you can't touch or even fucking see— constantly.
3. It's kind of gross. This wasn't a big issue for me. I have a morbid curiosity (I wanted to take a video of my sister pulling out my drains bit they didn't) but for folks who don't like the idea of having to pour out your body juices to measure and record, that can be squicky.
4. Fucking dogs. Dogs and quick movements, especially of other people is the MOST terrifying, because I was constantly afraid of pur dog jumping up and tearing those fuckers out of my body.
Now I'm gonna talk about the actual healing process and how that feels.
Week One— The least painful, but most disabling.
The first couple of days, I was essentially entirely reliant on my sister. I couldn't go to the bathroom without her help to get out of bed. At this time, you still have the anesthesia in your system so you can't feel a whole lot, other than gravity, and you're still pretty sleepy. It's advised to get up Avery few hours to shuffle around, but honestly, taking a nap is all you'll want to do.
Of course, the sitting up rule still holds, you can't really lay flat on your back, and you won't want to, because it's hard to fucking get up without help.
As far as pain goes, you don't feel much in the actual surgery site. Some surgeons include additional liposuction (this method is used to reduce the liklihood of dog ears or excess skin from the procedure itself)
^^^this will be the most painful thing during the first week^^^
It's because you get a lot of bruising, both external and internally when you have liposuction and it causes a lot of aching. The ache will gradually fade around the week 1 end, especially if you heal well from bruising you might have some numbness left over, but likely not from the liposuction. Those bits will be tender. You'll be given (or have bought) a compression garment that will come in very handy. It's not the same as a binder in that it's much easier to remove. The tightness won't be as restrictive, and it will help with liposuction healing and keeping your gauze in place. This is made to be worn basically 24/7 with exception of showers and washing. It *will* chafe, and you *will not* feel it. Prepare for that.
You can't physically do much of anything during this week, I couldn't open or close heavy doors, grab anything heavier than maybe 5 lbs, and most definitely not reach for anything. As mentioned, I couldn't lift my own ass out of bed, so I definitely couldn't drive. They *say* you can drive after the first 2 days. Don't. 1, you're probably on pain medication which knocks you put in about an hour of taking and 2, you're probably underestimating the strength and movement involved in using a steering wheel.
Over all, this is actually the easiest part of healing, pain wise. It's definitely the hardest if you don't have someone to care for you and help you during this time because you most definitely can't do it on your own.
Week Two— This one fucking SUCKS.
This is the week that the anesthesia has definitely worn off and you're running in pain medication. I was given a concoction of Gabapentin, Oxycodone, Diazepam, and over the counter Extra Strength Tylenol. Use them. Probably more than you think you should, honestly.
I had/have a very bad habit of not taking my pain medication as much as I should be because I'm low-key afraid of overdosing, but honestly. You won't overdose unless you take waaay too much of all your meds at once.
You'll still have to be sleeping sat up a bit, but you'll have significantly more mobility and strength— that doesn't mean you can over extend yourself. The 15lb rule still exists, and you don't want to extend your arms fully.
At this point, you'll be regaining feeling, it won't be a whole lot, but it comes in stages. (I'll go in depth near the end of the post)
This is when the drains become an aggravation. If you haven't had them taken out by end of week 1, week 2 you more than likely will, and up until then, they will get worse and worse to deal with.
For me, because of where they were placed, they were directly where I couldn't see them and couldn't fuck with them, but I laid on them every night, and of course, my skin was beginning to heal over the sutures, causing aching and unbearable itchiness. THIS is why you want to take your meds. In addition, remember how I mentioned the compression garment and the chafing? You're still wearing that. And if you haven't been closely watching your chafing, by week 2, you're made fully aware of it, because your under arms and sides will have gained feeling by then, and it will fucking hurt. Get band-aids. I have a stack of them up and down my sides where my drains were, and where I've chafed the most.
By your first week post op appointment, the surgeon has probably removed your gauze and any sutures covers for nipple grafts. They'll tell you how to do nipple and scar care. This varies from surgeon to surgeon, but I'll tell you about mine.
I had nipple grafts, so for week 1, I had little gauze squares on top of my nipples and sutures into my skin to protect them. At my post op those were removed and my nipples were covered in Vaseline and telfa paper. (It's basically a medical gauze covered in a plastic that easily sticks to moisturizing gels)
As for my actual top surgery scars, instead of having open sutures, I have my stitches, along side these sticky "brackets" they are plastic and run along my front and sides, except for directly under my nipples because of proximity. The plastic little brackets act as a tension that essentially pulls my skin together and keeps the stitches from stretching and forming wide scars. They fall off on their own once the skin has healed to the point that the tension isn't sufficient for them to keep sticking to my skin (they legit look like little plastic bridges and they are very satisfying swimming tools if you like running your fingers along the bumps they make under your binder) they also move over time, my two center ones have formed a triangle lol.
These brackets prevent me from having to do regimented scar care that some other folks have to post op, so I'd ask about them in your consultations :) you still have daily nipple moisturizing, and draining if you still have drains, but that takes a load off of the laundry list of shit you have to keep track of every day.
NOW FOR PAIN :D
You will be in pain. First it will be itching. The most annoying, persistent itching you have ever felt in your life, and you have to be incredibly care where it's coming from. This itching is actually normal. Itching is the lowest registry of pain your body has, and as you heal and your nerves regenerate, you will feel a variety of very weird things, but most definitely it will involve pain and itching.
Next will be what I'm gonna term "zingers" these are like spikes of tingly pain that you get in your chest, probably in your nipples the most. They don't really hurt, so much as just feel particularly strange and they are annoying too. Not everyone will experience this, and not necessarily both nipples or at this stage, it's highly dependent on how you heal and if you regain feeling in your nipples at all.
I was expecting myself to never regain feeling in my nipples again because of the type of surgery I had (double incision) so it took me by pleasant (and also awful) surprise.
Other weird sensations as your nerves begin regenerating are "hot/cold" and "inexplicable tightness" and of course, "let's ache".
•hot/cold is basically if you took IcyHot or Vicks Vapor Rub or any kind of menthol topical ointment and rubbed it all over your chest. It doesn't hurt, but it is very interesting. It only lasted about 2 days for me, but it was notable.
•inexplicable tightness is exactly as it says. It *feels* like your skin is being pinched, this also doesn't exactly *hurt* but it's not a particularly pleasant feeling. It's just your nerves waking up and going "Oh hey, I'm closer than I was to my neighbor than the last time I checked" it's more noticeable when standing and you feel compelled to hunch over a bit because it's sort of tricking you into thinking your skin will somehow rip open if you don't. At least, it does that for me lol.
• let's ache is also exactly what it's called. It's specifically (for me, mind you) a persistent and constant ache directly along my stitches, specifically the part that wasn't given brackets because of how close it is to my nipples. This is probably the only part of me that hurts not *just* because of nerve regeneration, but also because of increased movement and higher tension because j can't put brackets there. However, I do put scar tape there, which helps, if possibly only through placebo.
By far though, the most distracting pain will be from your drains, if you still have them in.
Medication does weird stuff to your sleep pattern and dreams— additional notes.
So, because I've only just ended my Week Two of post Top Surgery, I'm gonna talk about the weird shit that the medication does and it's major affects.
So, my prescription is 2 antibiotics, 2 pain pills, 1 anxiety med, 1 antinausea. I also have over the counter pain medication, but it's functionally useless right now.
My personal routine is wake up, take antibiotics, and take at least 1 of the prescribed pain meds. My oxy lasts 6 hrs, the gabas last 12. Both will make you sleepy and dizzy, and also give you weird fucking dreams and royally fuck up your sleep schedule.
So, if you've not noticed, you'll be sleeping a lot. You're in the process of healing, and your body literally won't let you stay awake for much longer than 3 or 4 hours in that first week. Later on, it gets much easier, and if your me and don't *want* to be unconscious 90% of the time, it becomes a toss up between "Do I want to take ineffective Tylenols and be awake but in pain the whole time? Or do I want to take effective prescribed pain meds and have to lie down for a nap in roughly an hour because I'm too loopy/mentally foggy to carry on a conversation?"
The prescription wins most every time lol. Soon, as a result, I sleep a vast majority of the time. I can technically stay up in spite of the medication, but it is *very* hard, and even harder if you're trying to be active. Gabapentin is longer lasting and stronger than my oxycodone, and it makes your head feel like it's full of cotton balls. It works fantastic for pain relief, but at the cost of precision motor function and focus.
It gets harder to walk and carry on a conversation because it's a sedative and you're actively fighting your body saying "go the fuck to sleep"
Other weird side effects from the drugs and the healing have are psychological and emotional!!
It's commonly said that post top surgery you can have depression, and I would say yes— but also no.
It's more of being at the mercy of wildly fluctuating emotions and how they manifest. Typically in the form of crying, I've noticed. But not necessarily depression as I'm familiar with it.
Now, this can be for more reasons than *just* medication, and it has no bearing, in my opinion on how one might truly feel about their operation. Some factors include whether or not you take testosterone.
Low testosterone is known to be a cause of depression in cis men, and it works exactly the same for trans men and people who take testosterone. Previous to your surgery, you'll be required to stop taking a lot of your medications, including T if you're on it. This massive dip in T can *definitely* contribute to feeling depressed post op, but for a lot of guys familiar with T, this is a kind of depression you can largely tell is artificial— because it goes away the next time you take your dose XD
Other things that affect your mood is of course, your own hormones. The human body runs on hormones, and our body having gone through invasive surgery like top surgery will of course put your body in overdrive to repair broken connections, and to do that, it releases hormones. Which, in addition to reaction chemically inside you for healing purposes, also are the things that literally control your emotions.
This, in combination with the medication you've been prescribed, and the medication you've had to delay taking, can have a major impact on your mood and mental health. It doesn't necessarily mean you regret getting top surgery (you would know if you did)
But it can manifest in fluctuating mood, how you respond to emotional or psychological stimuli, dreams, nightmares, and how subconscious fears may manifest in them and the occasional intrusive thought. Also you will probably cry. And probably a lot. Over stupid shit too.
Things I've cried over in the past 2 weeks.
Typing "things I've cried over in the past 2 weeks"
A 5 second clip of futurama
A 15 minute excerpt from a 3 hr video essay of a gay furry dating Sim I have literally never heard of or played.
Talking about crying or what I've cried about so far, even when no emotions are attached.
Thanking a person for talking to me.
A good hug
The fact I can't watch Jimmy Neutron Boy Genius.
A video essay about Wizards of Waverly Place.
A donut
That my brother helped me get cheerios down from the pantry because I can't reach that high right now.
My sister getting me curry
Curry in general (tearing up typing it right now)
Getting top surgery
As you can see, a lot of those are just weird shit to sob over for a solid 5-45 minutes.
I've also had a bunch of super weird dreams, and the biggest cause of that (aside from drugs and healing) is sleeping position and pre-existing conditions.
I have sleep paralysis, it's a chronic condition triggered by sleeping on my back, and unfortunately, when healing from top surgery, you have no choice but to sleep on your back for at least two weeks :D
So that's a thing to be wary of, if you deal with that.
Okay, that's all I got in terms of stuff that I haven't ever seen people talk about or even mention in regards to top surgery. So yeah.
Oh also, I have 2 (lightly used) GC2B tank binders to give away. One is trans pride colors, the other is a olive green. Size XL (ideal for folks with at least 38 C cup size) so if anyone is interested dm me :)
#transgender#trans ftm#ftm#trans pride#trans guys#trans masc#nonbinary#top surgery recovery#top surgery 👌#top surgery tips
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Are you okay Goldy? In case anyone hasn't asked.
I'm Jimin biased too and I have no friends who are into BTS, so they don't know how I feel. I also don't have Jikookers I talk to. I am just alone in my thoughts, crying for Jimin for the past 2 days. Actually since it was decided he would serve and not be exempt, but seeing him with his shaved head, fighting back tears, is keeping me awake at night. The only thing giving me comfort is seeing that the sleeping arrangements for buddy enlisted men is they get a double bed that is actually together, not separated that they sleep on together and they can cuddle without judgement. You can see other soldiers cuddling in pics. Not saying Jikook will, but other buddies have and do it. I just hate he won't have a soft warm bed for his muscle aches and pain, but just falling sleep next to a familiar body, after a horrendous day, esp Jungkook the person he's closest too, probably helps.
I also hate how tkk, jk solos and Jimin antis are making this seem like JK was forced to do this & spreading lies that he had no other options, his tats prevented from what he wanted, he will leave after 5 weeks, to cope with their pain over Jk chooses this with Jimin, instead of realizing Jk is probably fucking petrified at the thought of doing this. Scared and didn't want to be alone and needs Jimin just as much as Jimin needs him. Instead of being happy Jk has someone, they reduce him down to be an emotionless robot who doesn't need protecting, while other says he is just there to protect Jimin. When they watched JK for months alone, crying, drinking and having a hard time sleeping on live and the only thing that brightened his mood was watching Jimin videos and being motivated by him. Maybe he did this cause he wants to be protected by Jimin. Maybe its him who needs that comfort from the person he cares about the most. maybe Jimin did this for him too. Its a two way street.
No. I'm not okay. This is not okay. None of this is okay.
I don't want to talk about Jimin and MS, JM and his shaved hair, he's gone. There's nothing we can do about it. He's gone. Right or wrong he's gone.
I feel a lot of hate and anger in my heart for that oppressive system it's almost botherline racist and I need to be careful not to pour out such negativity.
I'm trying to deal with this the best way I can and managing my triggers is part of it so when I'm ready to talk about it I will
For now let's avoid the triggers I'm on thin ice here
You can share sure, I will bookmark them and read them later
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Mishap At The Moth’s Studio
A/N: Okay, so. I hate Val, but love his character outside of the Angel stuff. So, I’ll give you guys a warning first.
⚠️WARNING⚠️: Valentino will not always be portrayed the same, in every agere fic he’s written in. Depending on how I want to portray him in a fic, he will either be Good or Bad, Better or Worse, or in between.
And here, in this fic, he’s in between. —The same goes for the other Vees too, btw. They won’t hurt Angel, but they will act like amateur babysitters. There’s also swearing.
Forgive me, for I’m not used to writing for agere. I’m just starting, so I might be a bit sloppy.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Angel sat in his chair as the minutes ticked closer to shooting the next scene.
However, he was feeling uncharacteristically anxious.
Why?
Well, he had only recorded three scenes, and his mind already started feeling fuzzy from exhaustion, plunging him into a state of fear and vulnerability. He couldn’t let anyone outisde of the hotel —let alone, anyone at Val’s studio and Val himself!— see him regressing!
However, being surrounded by unfamiliar faces and the hustle and bustle of the studio, Angel's senses were overwhelmed, and he couldn't contain his distress. He couldn’t stay big.
He eventually started slipping.
Tears streamed down his face as he cried out, drawing attention from the crew members and actors preparing for the next shoot. Their confused and concerned stares only added to Angel's anxiety.
The looks from multiple eyes, scared and prompted Angel to seek refuge under the nearby bed he had just finished recording on.
Valentino, normally quick to anger, was taken aback by Angel's behavior and quirked an eyebrow at the spider’s sudden action.
He’s seen Angel scared before, sure. But, for him to suddenly start bawling like a child, then hiding under the bed? That’s not something you see everyday.
Valentino walked towards the bed, and crouched down to meet eye to eye with the cowering spider. “Angel, what the fuck are you doing under there?" The moth questioned, slight irritation evident in his tone.
Angel whimpered and covered his ears, his speech reduced to childish babbling. "No no! Bad words are bad!" he protested, his voice trembling with fear.
Valentino, completely baffled by Angel's sudden change behavior, could only blink in disbelief.
“What the hell...?" he muttered under his breath, but Angel heard him loud and clear. In response, he burrowed even deeper under the bed, seeking refuge from Valentino's confusion.
Growing increasingly irritated, Valentino sternly commanded Angel to come out from his hiding spot, his words laced with curses. “Alright, Angel! Enough with this game! Cut the horseshit and get the fuck out of there! Don’t make me tell you again, you little mocoso!”
But instead of complying, Angel shrank further into the shadows, his fear of Valentino consuming him entirely.
Valentino stood up with gritted teeth, as he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. He held it up to his face, glaring at Angel's trembling form still hidden beneath the bed.
Vox answered the video call. On the other side of the screen, the TV demon rolled his eyes dramatically. "What did Angel do to piss you off this time, Val?" he quipped, his attention focused on something off-screen.
Valentino scowled at Vox's nonchalant attitude. "How'd you know this was about Angel?"
Vox finally glanced at Valentino through the video call. "You're always bitching about Angel. So spill, what's the latest drama between you two?"
Valentino angled the phone's camera towards the bed, revealing Angel's tear-streaked face as he cowered beneath the bedcovers, all four of his arms shielding his eyes from the world.
“Angel's acting like a damn toddler. Won't come out from under the bed, crying and whining like a little brat." The moth explained.
Vox's expression shifted from amusement to curiosity as he watched Angel's distressed state, raising a brow.
Valentino asks, “Any ideas on what type of high the bitch is on?”
“Potty mouth!” Angel points at Valentino.
“SO ARE YOU!”
Ignoring the banter, Vox turns away, “Hang on. I think I’ve seen this before. Give me a sec…” Quietly, he began typing on his keyboard, searching for information on the ‘symptoms’ he was witnessing.
After a moment of silence, Vox looked back at Valentino, his demeanor more serious now. "Val, I think Angel might be experiencing something called ‘age regression’…”
He explained, his voice softer than before. "It's a coping mechanism where someone reverts to a childlike state in times of stress or trauma."
Valentino's frustration subsided as he process the information given. "So, what do I do?
Vox rubbed the space on his screen between his eyes. “I don’t normally care about this stuff… But, if anyone knew a regressor was hired as one of your ‘stars’…. Well, let’s just say you wouldn’t like what caregivers would do to you.”
He leaned closer to the camera, his gaze serious. "You need to approach him gently and calmly, like you would with a scared child. Try to reassure him that he's safe and that you're here to help," he advised, his tone firm.
Valentino's brows furrowed at the given instructions, "I'm a pimp, Vox. Not a babysitter!" He yelled into the phone.
Vox raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by Valentino's outburst. "Well, your favorite boy toy isn't gonna perform properly until he's done regressing. And we can’t take him out of the V Tower, in that state. Witnesses are everywhere. ‘Cause unless you know the passcode to his phone, and call up anyone from the hotel, the only option is to take care of him, until he’s big enough to walk home by himself.
He looked at the moth dead in the eye, his tone unyielding. "Suck it up and deal with it."
"Ugh! Fine! Whatever!" Valentino grumbled, his frustration evident as he muttered curses in Spanish under his breath. "But how the hell do you propose I get him out from under the damn bed?"
Vox leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Try offering him something comforting, like a plush toy or a blanket," he suggested. "And speak to him gently, like you actually give a damn. It might just do the trick."
“I’ll consider the sweet talking, but I don’t have any of those type of toys! What industry do you think I’m in charge of!?” Valentino snapped at the flat faced demon.
“Well then…! I don’t know!? Use your wings!” Vox yelled back.
Valentino blinked, taken aback by Vox's unconventional suggestion. "My wings?" he repeated.
Vox nodded, "Yeah, they're pretty fancy looking for a kid’s liking. Turn your back to Angel, spread your wings out, and flutter them up and down to attract his attention. Get him to chase you like a butterfly," he explained, biting back a laugh at his own suggestion.
"I'm a moth," He pointed out, feeling the need to clarify.
"Same difference! Just fucking do it," Vox insisted. “And get on all fours. You’re ten feet tall, you’re height’s probably scaring him.”
Valentino sighed, realizing he had little choice but to trust Vox's advice. So, he set the phone on a nearby desk, so Vox can still see them.
With a resigned shrug, Valentino positioned himself with his back to Angel, getting down on all fours to be at his level once more, and spread his wings out wide. With a tentative flutter, he began to move them up and down, hoping to catch Angel's attention and coax him out from his hiding spot beneath the bed.
Vox struggled to contain his laughter as he watched Valentino reluctantly follow his instructions. "Pfft…! O-Okay, keep doing that with your wings.” A snort slipped out of him.
“Now, crawl away from him. Get him to crawl after you," he instructed, barely able to stifle his amusement.
Valentino shot Vox a glare, his patience wearing thin. "Fuck you," he muttered under his breath, careful not to startle Angel again. Because, he was apparently sensitive to profanity in this state. Oh the irony.
But Vox couldn't help himself. "It's working, isn't it?" he teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Now, try to coax him in a baby voice. Lure him out by cooing at him."
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” Valentino let out an exasperated groan and facepalmed, feeling utterly ridiculous. “Fuck my life….”
Ignoring Vox's laughter, he continued to flap his wings and lure Angel out from under the bed. "Here, Angel... Come here, Angelcakes. Pspspss…” He cooed, his voice strained with humiliation.
"BWAHAHAHAHA—"
"Shut the hell up, Voxxy!" Valentino snapped, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I swear to hell, I’m going to hang up!”
Meanwhile, the rest of the set crew struggled to contain their own laughter, the scene unfolding before them more amusing than any script they had ever read. But, they all knew they needed to keep to themselves, unless they wanted to feel thwarted wrath of their later.
Thankfully, the stupid strategy Vox came up with, seemed to worked. Angel, started crawling out of his hiding spot. His eyes shimmered with awe as he stared at the fluttering wings.
“Oooh!” Angel gasped with fascination. “Butte’fwy!”
A tick mark formed on the Val’s head. “I’M NOT A—“ He groaned, and decided to just accept it. “Yes… Butterfly! Follow the pretty butter—OOF!”
The moth fell right on his face, his glasses slightly cracked, when Angel had suddenly leaped and tackled him to the ground.
Angel fiddled with the moth’s wings and fluff. “Mr. Butte’fwy is ‘o pwetty!”
Valentino sighed, as he slowly pushed himself up from the ground, taking off his glasses and setting them on the same desk as his phone where a hysterical Vox was.
“Ohohoho This is tohoho good! I can’t wait to send this to Velvette!” Vox cackled, wiping a tear from his eye.
The moth glared at him, “You were recording us!?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Bwahahaha—WHOA!” Vox fell off his chair in a loud crash.
After 3 seconds of spewing out some colorful words, he picked himself back up.
Valentino rubbed his temples, as he tried to maintain his balance, while a hyper Angel Dust was crawling up his back and harshly pulling at his wings. “Look… could you come over here…? I don’t if you’ve heard Voxxy, but ‘child friendly’ isn’t really the rating I specialize in.”
“You think I’D know how to handle a child, let alone someone in their little headspace?” Vox asked, dramatically placing a hand to his chest. “Vel may call me in all the time, to calm your temper tantrums, but that doesn’t mean I know how to change a diaper.”
Then the realization dawned on Valentino. “H-He… doesn’t actually need a diaper… right?”
Vox gave him a smug, shit eating grin. “That depends on what age range he’s regressed into.”
Then he turned his eyes to Angel, “Hey, Angie!” The TV demon, called to the spider, using his friendly showman voice. “How old are you, huh sport?”
Angel paused in his self-entertainment, and looked at Vox with doe eyes. He then looked at the ceiling, and bit his finger while thinking.
Then, he held up three fingers and enthusiastically answered, “This much!”
Vox looked back at a petrified moth, and smirked. “Good luck. Better pray to hell, he doesn’t need to go.”
Valentino, snatched his phone from the desk. “Vo—“
The call ended.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
I decided to stop here, for now.
The next part will have Velvette, and Vox will show up in person.
#hazbin hotel#sfw agere#age regressor#age regression#agere#angel dust#little angel dust#little!angel dust#angel dust agere#vox#valentino#velvette#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel valentino#hazbin hotel velvette#the vees
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🌹💙 Take Me Down
Part 1: Angel
Part 2: Nauseous
Part 3: Eclipse
Summary: Hajoon accidentally burns his hands, making himself useless as a drummer.
CW: low self-esteem, burns, intentional worsening of pain
Lonely you are
커져버린 Your scars
Hajoon nearly broke down the day they posted a new Tik-Tok. He had taken out his phone while cooking some instant noodles for himself, waiting for the water to boil. He wasn’t sure when the others were planning to eat, they hadn’t asked him and he hadn’t asked them. Hajoon had craved some unhealthy food and decided to just make himself something. Their stove was a bit old so he had some time to scroll social media while waiting for everything to be ready.
Hajoon, like the other members, had his own private account that none of the fans knew belonged to him. Since he used it sometimes to look at their old content for comfort, the timeline immediately recommended their newest video.
He was curious what the fans would say to it. Dojoon really had outdone himself with ideas and had forced them through about twenty takes until the video was perfect. Hajoon was proud of it. So he looked at the comments – he knew he shouldn’t do that and definitely not judge his worth on them – but he wanted to know. What did Black Rose have to say about him?
Turns out: Nothing.
He saw his members names plop up constantly under the video, appreciating them. Basically every comment mentioned Woosung. Many people praised Dojoon’s sense of humour and people were cooing over their cute maknae. But Hajoon? No matter how far down he scrolled he didn’t find his name mentioned once. Even the older videos he had desperately searched through? He only saw his name on the few he was alone in.
He had thought it would hurt reading bad comments about him (he had in the past) but this passive nothing? It was even worse. Instead of wondering what they might say about him he had to find out they didn’t have to say anything about him at all. It was as if he wasn’t even there, wasn’t needed.
His hand started shaking and he had to press his eyes closed to stop the tears.
Therefore, he didn’t notice the water boiling over until it had flowed to where his hands were gripping the counter hard. At first he was confused at the wetness by his fingers but it took less than a second to feel the heat. He screamed in pain, recoiling backwards and nearly falling over the chair somebody had left in the way. He stared at his hand in shock, his hands which were red and blistering. It hurt a lot. He dropped his phone to the ground.
“The fuck is going on?”, Woosung asked, skidding into the kitchen and nearly slipping in just his socks. He caught himself and stared at Hajoon for a moment, then dragged the shocked younger member to the sink, letting lukewarm water run over the burns. Dojoon and Jaehyeong seemed to have arrived as well, as voices washed over him.
“It’s okay, Joon-ah”, Jaehyeong soothed, “don’t cry.”
It only made Hajoon cry harder. Why couldn’t anything go right today? Numbly he let his members swarm him. Dojoon had stopped the water from boiling and Woosung had left to get the first-aid kit. Jaehyeong stayed by his side, leading him to sit on a chair. Then he rubbed ointment on the burns and wrapped his hands in bandages. Hajoon never stopped crying.
“I know it hurts”, Dojoon said and knelt down to look up at him, giving him a lopsided smile. “Try to breathe through it.”
Hajoon wanted to tell them, scream at them that his hands hurting was not the reason for his tears. But what good would come of that? He tried to stop his cries but whenever he thought he could stop soon his breathing hitched and he broke down again. He knew he must look pathetic, reduced to loud, ugly sobs in their kitchen. Why were the others even still there with him?
맘에 문이 닫혀가
아이처럼
Dojoon was resting a hand on his knee, Jaehyeong was gripping Hajoon’s shoulder and Woosung was rubbing his upper arm. Why were they pretending to care?
“Hajoon-ah, kiddo”, Dojoon tried again, “you’ll make yourself sick from crying. Please just try to calm down. Deep breaths.”
Dojoon exaggerated his breathing for him, so Hajoon could breathe with him and was finally able to calm down. He felt so weak.
“There you are, baby”, Woosung said with a tiny smile. Why did he use that nickname? Hajoon glanced up at Jaehyeong. The maknae was frowning.
“Don’t call me that”, Hajoon choked out.
“What? Baby?” Woosung looked confused. “I thought you liked it, but yeah, I’ll stop calling you that if you want.” Hajoon nodded, curling into himself.
Jaehyeong, who had rubbed his back until then, rounded the chair to be able to look at Hajoon properly. He even took Hajoon’s injured hand into a careful hold, soft as a feather.
“Hajoon-ah? What is going on? Hyungs and maknae are worried”, he said gently.
“I’m fine, I’m okay, Jeff”, Hajoon whispered.
“You’re not okay”, Woosung chided him and Hajoon felt himself turn red from being caught in a lie. Why did they want to know anyway? Were they going to gossip about him again, needing new fodder? Hajoon had enough dignity left to want to prevent that.
“I saw you break your leg and not show any emotion”, the oldest added, when Hajoon stayed quiet, “a slight burn should not make you cry. Did anything else happen?”
Well, I found out you all secretly hate me and want me out of the band.
“I … I don’t wanna talk about it”, Hajoon settled on saying, “not now. Can I…? Can I have some time to come to terms with it and then talk to you?”
Maybe they would grant him time to gather himself, better himself, before finally deciding on kicking him out.
Woosung slowly nodded, like he didn’t want to accept the answer. There was barely anything private between them. They knew everything about each other. About Woosung’s struggle with an eating disorder, about Jaehyeong’s depression, about Hajoon’s past tendency to drown himself in alcohol to calm his racing mind, about Dojoon’s struggles with not feeling at home anywhere but in Korea with them while still sometimes struggling with the language.
“Okay”, Woosung said, his voice full of doubt and hurt, “we’ll be here when you are ready to talk about it.”
Hajoon was glad and he didn’t doubt Woosung’s word. They had waited long enough for him to realize how much he was disliked. A few more weeks would make no difference.
He wondered why he was so dislikable. Was it his shyness? Did he seem aloof or arrogant when he was quiet, scared of speaking? Was he not good enough for them or Black Rose? Sure, he had written their most beloved song “Sorry” but nobody even thought of him when hearing the song – just of Woosung’s and Dojoon’s amazing voices. Maybe he was just plain uninteresting and therefore people didn’t want anything to do with him. No matter what, he couldn’t stand to be in their shared kitchen any longer.
“I’m going to bed”, Hajoon said and pushed himself up, the comforting touches vanishing. He was suddenly so cold.
“Weren’t you going to eat, hyung? We wanted to make pizza together later, but we can do that now if you’re hungry”, Jaehyeong said, gesturing at the unopened pack of noodles. How cruel of them to tease him with his favourite American fast food – something they seemed to have planned to do alone and now wanted to give to him out of pity.
“No, it’s okay. You enjoy.”
He grabbed his phone from the table where Dojoon hat put it, hissing in pain, and vanished into the safety and loneliness of his room.
I just wanna say goodbye
Take me now, please, undo my chain of pain
Hajoon found out just how much he fucked up the next day during band practice. There was no way he could actually hold his drumsticks with his aching hands and the bandages. He tried but he couldn’t even close his hand to a fist.
“Dylan”, Woosung called, staring at him trying to play just one note in horror, “what are you doing?”
Hajoon dropped his drumsticks. They clattered loudly in the silence that followed Woosung’s statement. He stared up at his leader who was frowning down at him, standing in front of the drum kit.
“I’m trying to play?”, Hajoon asked, confused why Woosung was shouting.
“With your hands? Hell, no, you aren’t”, Jaehyeong said and walked over to them, draping himself over Woosung’s shoulder to also look down at Hajoon.
“But … what am I doing here then?” Hajoon was perplexed. They needed him for the drums, right? Did they need him? “I need to play.”
“You can’t like this”, Dojoon added, also staring down at where Hajoon was sitting. “We’ll just use the backtracks.”
“So I’m just supposed to be sitting here, watching?”, Hajoon asked bitterly, feeling angry. If that was the case he never would have had to leave his bed that morning.
“Don’t shout. This is stupid”, Woosung chided him, “you know you can’t play.”
You can’t play.
Hajoon was aware that his hands started trembling.
You can’t play.
He had made so many mistakes in the last weeks, of course it seemed like he couldn’t play. Woosung seemed to think so at least.
You can’t play.
“If I was just going to be sitting here, I’ll go home”, Hajoon spat, standing up and running out of the room.
The door fell shut loudly behind him but Hajoon didn’t care he looked like a child throwing a tantrum. He ran until he reached his studio, falling onto the ground behind the door. His breathing was out of control and tears were running down his face. Not knowing what else to do, Hajoon curled around his knees, hugging himself tightly.
It seemed like none of the members were following him.
Can you take me down?
I’m under cold rain again
Good. He was embarrassed beyond anything he had ever experienced before, humiliated. He had never lost his temper like this.
Yet – he felt it was a bit deserved. Why had they asked him to come?
Make him watch how they worked just as well as three? That he could be replaced by a backtrack? Maybe he should just quit. They deserved a better band mate.
Maybe they wanted him to know he was replaceable, warn him of what was coming.
But their contract said they were four. A band needed a drummer. A good drummer.
The others couldn’t force him out of the contract. Maybe they wanted him to end I himself?
Yes, that must be it.
Maybe that was for the better. Hajoon couldn’t force the members to be happy with him and he knew he shouldn’t stay this attached to people who didn’t care about him. No matter how much he cared for them, if they didn’t care for him maybe it would hurt less in the long run. They might have a chance to get happy with a different, a better drummer who could actually do his job right. Hajoon didn’t think he would ever be happy without them but it wasn’t about him. He wanted them to be happy even if it was at his own expense.
It was time to contact their lawyer. Since their fallout with J&Star Company they had kept in contact with her, just in case. Hajoon knew if he didn’t call right now, he never would. So he did.
새겨버린 내 실수
이미 늦은 것 같아
Next chapter: Sorry
Masterlist links:
Tafee - Full Masterlist
Tafee's Masterlist - The Rose
#hajoon series#kpop#the rose#hajoon#hajoon centric#hurt/comfort#songfic#angst#woosung#dojoon#jaehyeong#feeling insecure#insecure hajoon#lee hajoon#part 4/8#🌹#💙#🧚🏻♀️#take me down - the rose
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I haven’t read your books yet, you know how it is, money~, but I bet they’re pretty good and I am planning to buy and read them, they’re on The List, and I hold you in high regards as a person I kinda vaguely barely know. I say this first to preface, because, from the kindest most adoring place of my heart okay, this reminded me of you, no offense: https://www.tumblr.com/pjackk/721300009283420160/whats-up-tunblr-basically-i-just-wrote-this-book
Ouch.
Glad you preceded this with a compliment...
But brutal.
For what it's worth, I also hate having to reduce my books to tropes...and I try not to, with any of my promotional posts...
But uh...good to know this is how I come across :S
But in my defense...and in defense of other authors... it's super easy for people to make fun of how we have to promote our books, but in this terrible digital economy...I mean.
It's hard to keep people's attention, and it's hard to sell books.
It's not like selling art, doing commissions, making animations, or well-edited videos. Books are inherently harder to sell and market and build an audience for, because they're an investment of time and focus.
They aren't as easy to dive into and enjoy. A webcomic chapter you could read in twenty minutes. A pretty picture you can reblog, and you can commission the artist if you love the style. A Youtube video can be ten minutes of investment. Maybe an hour, tops.
But a book?
Books will always struggle more than shows or animations, because it takes a certain kind of person to read books, and in this day and age, attention spans are shorter than ever.
You spend fucking years writing your books, and you edit, and you revise, and write some more, and edit some more, and revise some more, and then you have to promote.
All the time, in every way you can imagine. Using whatever tools you have... all the time, every way.
Otherwise, you don't see any sales at all, and then it's like you wasted three years of your life fiddling around, while everyone you know is making bank on crypto or whatever the fuck.
If I was good at fucking BookTok? I wouldn't be fucking here promoting at all.
I could leave my blog as the little meme machine it's always been.
But I'm bad at fucking TikTok.
And I mildly resent being compared to a TikTok author, because if I was any good at that, I WOULD NOT BE HERE promoting my books at all.
Tumblr is the worst place to promote anything, ever.
That's part of why I like it...but at the same time, that's why it's such a torturous practice, trying to promote my novels here.
No one here gives a fuck. And I'm fine with that.
I'm ok with that.
But I can't throw away hard work without at least trying.
I don't really get the criticisms of authors in those comments anyway.
What have those people tried to put out into the world?
You think self published authors are just jokes, or that they aren't marketing themselves well?
Maybe both are true, but someone who makes something, no matter how shit, has still MADE something.
It's easy to tear others down. It's not easy to make something that you care about, and put out into the world for others to see and judge.
And for those people in the comments too, I have to ask.
Is a book only good, if it's published by a company?
Because books that are self published are actually a LOT LESS likely to be made up of tropes and cliches.
People who self publish tend to write weirder and more out of the box things. They RESORT to tropes because they feel you won't pay attention to their books without them.
they feel you won't give their concept a try, unless they dumb it down for everyone.
They pretend the book is something it's not, out of sheer desperation.
I market 7 Deadly Habits like it's a fucking adventure action romance comedy...?
It's actually pretty fucking dark and grim and sad.
the main character is fucked up, and so are all his exes. So is the entire world they live in.
It's really not a funny book. It has dark humor, but it's hinged on an unhinged concept, one that I find darkly interesting.
But I lie and say it's a funny adventurous romp of sex and violence.
Because that's how I have to market it.
I try other things, of course, but I have found most people would rather read a romance than an anti-romance, which is more of what it is.
People don't want to try new things. They want more of the shit they already have.
to make something new, or different, or non-conventional, is to accept that you will have to water it down when you're trying to offer it to people.
So yeah.
I get it. Authors who blaze their book promotions are desperate losers and weirdo freaks with very bizarre interests and isn't it funny, how hard they're trying?
But you know.
What else can we be?
Leigh Bardugo?
Trust me. I wish I was a good writer. I wish I wrote straight YA fantasy books that kids and adults and everyone can enjoy. I wish I had a literary agent and five star publishing houses giving me 20 million dollars for my next book.
I wish I was a multi millionaire white woman, in an industry of rich white women, who write sexy murder mysteries and cozy thrillers and steamy vampire eroticas.
But I am what I am, and that's a queer self published POC author, who has no one in my corner, but me. Whose only means of promotion is my own efforts.
So no, I don't really look at other self published authors with disdain or wry detachment.
I know how they feel.
I know how much it sucks.
#writing#writers on tumblr#thanks for the ask anon#im sorry#i know you were trying to be nice#but i dont know#that post is mean spirited#i get the urge to disdain blazed posts and all#but not for novels or artwork like#why would you make fun of creatives using blaze#its not like theyre promoting their fucking cryto scams#or some suspicious link to the dark web#or their damn kik or paypal or whatever#they made something and theyre throwing it out there for everyone to judge and mock#i have had nasty comments in every single post ive ever blazed or even posts my friends have blazed#i dont mind them#i just find it odd that youd share this post with me and expect me to find it amusing#i mostly find it cynical and disdainful
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thought about the fucking video of such small hands and baby jordan’s stupid fucking hair and groaned so loud. it reduces me to tears la dispute i love you
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[A video, the camera is pointing at a very...not ok Dave Amaryllis. She looks like death warmed over, pale face ever paler, eyes just looking forward with no real focus. She also has a dark bruise on her right eye, and her hands are handcuffed behind her. A cop, 2 from this video, can be heard.
"Look, Dreda, this could all be over. We have a confession, all typed out and nice, all ya gotta do is sign on the line, and this can all be over."
"Im not doing it." Daves voice is strained, sounding like she could burst into tears at any moment, "I want to go to court."
"What's even out there for you? Everyone knows you're a murderer, they're all too busy mourning Professor Amaryllis' death to care if you get out, and when the grief fades they will attack you." The cop can be heard moveing.
At the mention of Amy, tears cloud Daves vision, head hanging low, "I would rather that then whatever punishment is awaiting me."
"You dont even have a lawyer. How do you expect to win?"
"You grumps are so incompetent that you'll prove my innocent yourself." Dave gets the faintest ghost of a smile before steps could be heard, Daves eyes following the cop and flinching when they finally came into view.
"You need to learn some respect, boy." The officer snarled. They go close to Daves face, grabing the collar of her shirt, makeing the poor man(?) shake in fear.
"Please let me go, officer." Dave tried to keep her voice even, but the shake in her voice was clear as day.
In response, the cop just grabed on tighter, "You have so much guilt, why dont you give up? Put this case to rest, we could even get you a reduced sentence." A smile appears on the cops face, trying to be warm and inviting.
Dave pauses, "You fucks are worse then Rocket, thats why." She spit in the officers face. Braceing herself, she gets pushed to the ground by an enraged officer, hard. Its impossible to see Dave once shes on the ground though.
The officer looked absolutely pissed, going back to thr camera, picking it up and turning it off.
The video ends.]
#pkmn irl#pkmn rp#all is revealed arc#((sorry the writeing gods posesed me at *checks time* 7 in the morning#((anyway say hi to dave :]#tw manipulation
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