#I SAID YOU'RE NOT GOING TO

[allastoredeer]

I just saw this post and this fanart and immediately thought of your most recent fic. The contrast between Alastor and Vox's rivalry and Alastor and Lucifer's rivalry is so fucking funny to me, like Vox still can't piss him off even after having a rivalry for a LONG TIME, and Lucifer just has to show up for Alastor to see red. My man Vox is destined to lose.

Also, I wanted to show these fandom art gems in case you haven't seen them yet. It's pure gold. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

Have a nice day! :D

THIS ARE ALL SO GOOD!!!! I saw a few of them already, but you showed me a couple that I haven't seen yet 😂this fandom is so creative and fun!!!

I actually went back and rewatched this all before I posted this and it literally made my night. Legit got me laughing. Thank you for sending these! Really, I was already feeling good tonight, but these made it SO much better.

#the last one especially #with Alastor and Lucifer yelling at each other from across the hotel #I SAID YOU'RE NOT GOING TO #WHAT???? #I SAID YOUR #WHAAAT? #LMAO #that's fucking gold #thank you so much for these #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #asks #lucifer morningstar #appleradio #lucifer magne #meownnies

[idliketobeatree]

btw when you're being mean to aziraphale this is who you're being mean to. hope this helps

#good omens #aziraphale #good omens memes #good omens fandom #good omens s2 #good omens shitpost #good omemes #go s2 #poor little meow meow #michael sheen #job minisode #a companion to owls #staying as far away from fandom discourse as possible but i feel it needs to be said #he's a walking talking crying wet cat on the inside #and he needs a pat on the head maybe a lil kick to the butt. not all this backlash. peace and love on gomens earth #marcela talks #ghost(shit)posted by crowley #aziraphale defense squad #i cleary underestimated the emotional weight of his kittydog eyes. you're good

[inkskinned]

something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.

not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.

you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.

but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.

you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.

but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.

you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.

you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?

you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.

you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!

you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"

#this is very obviously about my battle with #ptsd #but i think it's also like a pretty apt metaphor for a lot of things like setting boundaries or going to therapy or choosing recovery #i was thinking about the 'comes back wrong' trope and i was like. oh no i have feelings about this bc i have mental illness #and once i stopped masking - i was WRONG. i was different #here's the good news: i am now INNUNDATED with love. fucking swimming in it. excelling at it. the people who stayed #learned my new self. my new different body and how i am different but i am trying. they have held me so tightly #and my life no longer feels quiet. it is not based in my suffering. it feels like i have been growing a tree in my chest #and now it is flowering. #it is so lovely to be surrounded by people who have said - oh! you cut off so many branches i was worried you weren't the same. but now... #... this is just a new you. and i love you. and i love that you're different and happy. #(but yeah also im nb so i was absolutely influenced by Trans things)

[somecunttookmyurl]

the "all customer service people are trained by management to be illiterate apes you can never get any resolutions by design dont be mean about it" crowd would faint to know there is a guy at my bank RIGHT NOW attempting to resolve an issue that would normally take a week

see. i tried to order food (having nothing of note in the house, and too much pain currently to get down 3 flights of stairs about it) and the payment failed on just eat's end.

but it went through fine on my bank's end, so the funds are tied up in "pending"... for a week. my available balance is now 95p so i can't just do it again

the bank cannot typically do anything about this until the normal time frame for collection passes and they funds just release automatically. just eat have zero contactable customer service

but it is for FOOD and there's no more MONEY and i am a DISABLED CUSTOMER so BY FUCKING GOD not on zeeshan's watch

#i said i live by myself - which i do it's kind of the problem right now #so he's actually said 'i fully understand what you're going through so please know i'm here even if you just want to talk to someone #whilst i wait for a response from the product team' #like. ok king #i hope you can always find a pen when you need one and it always works

[satelliteduster]

oh my god i forgot to post my absolute favorite strip from gay comix (issue #2, 1981)

#this collection is full of so many hilarious vignettes #between the fictional and biographical they range from hilarious to saddening but theyre all candid looks at #lgbt life in the 60s 70s and 80s #id recommend it if you're interested in older underground work #edit: for ppl who notice the opening blurb i will say this: #1. Many artists in the underground comix scene (yes the lgbt ones too) delighted in being overly provocative for the sake of it #hence the cringeworthy 'political unity is not the goal' line #2. i worried abt this too when i started going thru the issues but there are quite a few strips and comics focusing on the trans experience #that said. there are unfortunately not a lot of transgender artists involved in this collection #3. given the preceding two points i think its fair to say that a good chunk of the strips in gay comix just. Suck #but like they actually said it's important that we're capable of recognizing that a full 40 years down the line #so we can actually learn something from the life experiences the mistakes and even the lack of perspective tht sm of these artists displayed #nocturnal writings

[sarasade]

One of the most generally useful things to come out of Hbomberguy's plagiarism video and Todd in the Shadows' similar video on misinformation is how they bring transparency to the internet phenomenon of "I made up a guy to get mad at".

Seriously, I've seen people make up a lot of stupid shit on the internet over the years and it's often just a manipulative attempt to paint a group of marginalized people in a bad light.

That's the TL;DR version of this post. 

ANYWAY here is the long version

Those videos are mostly about James Somerton's plagiarism of other queer people's work. However I'd like to talk about that 20-30% of Somerton's original writing- and oh boy. It's mostly about complaining about White Straight Women and misgendering well-known trans creators such as Rebecca Sugar and calling Becky Albertalli a straight woman while it's pretty common knowledge that she was forced to out herself as bi because she received so much harassment over "being a cishet woman who appropriates LGBT+ stories".

One thing that irks me especially is how in his Killing Stalking and Gay Shipping videos Somerton brings up how straight women/ teen girl shippers exploit gay men for their personal sexual fantasies. This gets brought up several times in his videos.

Being all up and arms about Somerton being a "White Cis Gay Who Hates Women and Queer People tm" is not that useful because the kind of rhetoric he's using is extremely common in fandom and LGBT+ spaces on Tumblr, TikTok and Twitter. We really don't need to bring Somerton's identity to this since he is in no way an unique example.

It's hypocritical to make this about an individual person when I've seen A TON of posts, tweets and videos where queer people talk about these Sinister Straight Women who are supposedly out there fetishizing and exploiting queer men. It's pretty clear to me that this is just an excuse to shit on women and queer people for having any sexual interests. At worst these comments are spreading misinformation about BL, a form of media that has been excessively studied by both Asian feminists and Asian queer women.

This all sounds really familiar and I think it's good that people are calling it out as what it is: misogyny and transphobia. I'd also point out the potentially racist motives behind being this hypervigilant about Asian media.

People can absolutely be misogynist regardless of gender or orientation. I really don't know why we need to create some kind of made up enemy to get mad at. I actually think it's almost sinister how "anti-fujoshi" people call Slash shippers and fujoshi misogynists or claim that they have internalised misogyny while being dismissive about women's interests and creative pursuits under Japanese obscenity laws, China's censorship, book bans in American schools and various other disadvances that are part of being a queer and/or female creator.

I think we shouldn't be naive about the bad faith actors who want to turn queer people against each other. For example Fujoshi.info mentions anti-gender (TERF, GC etc) movement using this kind of rhetoric as well.

Anyway if you want to read more:

- about the false info around BL fandom fujoshi.info

-There is the scholar Thomas Baudinette who studies gay media in Japan. Here is a podcast with him and the scholar Khursten Santos

-James Welker is a BL scholar as well. Here is a podcast interview about the new international BL article collection he edited.

-I've already talked about this Youtube channel by KrisPNatz and his great Killing Stalking video that actually engages with the themes of the manhwa

- There is also HR Coleman's thesis DO NOT FEED THE FETISHIZERS: BOYS LOVE FANS RESISTANCE AND CHALLENGE OF PERCEIVED REPUTATION where she interviews 36 BL fans and actually breaks down why fetishization has become such a huge talking point in the fandom discourse. Spoilers, it's mostly about young queer people and women being worried that they will get judged and pathologized for their interest in anything sexual.

-Great podcast about Danmei and censorship with Liang Ge

#Also I don't mean that you can always tell if someone is a transphobe or a TERF based on a couple of things they have said. #My point is that sometimes ok people can have very regressive ideas too. #This is not a call out post about how we should go around accusing anti-fujoshi people #todd in the shadows #hbomberguy #sarasade text #even I've got those “Fandom is mostly straight women fetishizing gay men” comments once and it begins to sound kind of passive-aggressive #when you're a bi woman. Lot of fandom stats at AO3 show that fandoms are montly bi women. who are these people calling straight exactly hmm #also straight women are completely ok leave them alone. I know I know Yes I'm so brave for saying this #cw: transphobia

[lonelyzarquon]

DOCTOR WHO | Rose

#dwedit #doctor who #dwgif #timelordgifs #ninth doctor #rose tyler #scifiedit #tvedit #userveronika #userlanie #usersugar #s1 #rose #christopher eccleston #billie piper #mine #my gifs #looove this little walk-and-talk moment #they're bantering! he's full of it! rose is calling him out right from the start #she said i know what u are. you're full of it... LETS GO #also damn look how long this take is

[faeriekit]

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

*

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to! #this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol. #faer fic

[evilkaeya]

THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT KAITO AND SHINICHI ARE COUSINS??

#gosho you're evil 😭 #if I had a dollar for every time a ship of a fandom i was in got revealed as cousins I'd have two dollars #which isn’t much but it's crazy that it happened twice #also not 20 but 30 years after the release btw. THIRTY. you cannot make this shit up #this ship is older than ME #and the most popular ship of dcmk too #I can only pray for the shippers I'm so sorry #that being said say fuck you to gosho by keep shipping them! #I've read and seen some absolute masterpieces of fics and arts. go wild. create more. #kaishin

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I want you whipped into shape!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #better drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #yu ziyuan #wang lingjiao #wen zhuliu #'When I say jump - say “how high'”? You know you're doing it right when you start to cry!“ #Of course I can't resist the Legally blonde reference. This is the Elle Woods is canon in PD-MDZS blog #I love this scene so much. There are a lot of things to say about it and I would go over the limit if I indulged. #Suffice it to say the main takeaway *here* is that I think YZY is milfboss of the millennia. #I intended for this to be posted on international women's day but my ambition led me to keep trying to make it better. #And by better I mean I spent several days (re)drawing this one and that is **not** what poorly-drawn-mdzs is supposed to be about. #I will be making the next few comics worse to compensate <3 At the very least I will honour my time and tag it as 'better drawn' #('my time' spent hunched over my desk while I chant 'this concept is *not* above my skill level!' over and over again) #Funny story about PD!Wen Zhuliu; he was supposed to show up sooner but I kept accidently cutting the comics he would have been in. #So I like to think he just went on a long coffee run. 'Go get me an (insert coffee chain) pink drink' said Wen Chao. #'He never said from which location' said Wen Zhuliu as he proceeded to walk 100km to the farthest cafe he could find.

[stillmonsterz]

all i gotta do

for this anon!

pairing: jake x reader

genre: fluff (?), humor (???), smut

summary: it's your first day at work and you're nervous. however, your trainer is going to show you why you were nervous for the wrong reasons. one week with jake sim will either make you quit the job or never leave.

contains: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, swearing, incest mention, PTSD mention, i try to be "funny" and make "jokes"

word count: 4.4k (unproofread)

---

DAY ONE

You stepped inside of your new workplace apprehensively; you hadn’t felt so nervous since your first day of university. Wiping your palms on your pants, you made eye contact with the receptionist and smiled wanly. 

“Hello,” you said, resting your fingertips on the counter. “I’m the new hire. I was wondering where I could find…Jake Sim? He’s supposed to be my…” The term that had been used in the introductory email the company had sent to you eluded you.

“Your buddy,” the receptionist said flatly. “Your Park Corp buddy.”

“Yes. That.”

“Jake Sim is on the fifth floor. I take it you’ll be working in data analysis as well?”

You nodded. “Yes, exactly.”

The receptionist smiled at you, but it belied a certain cold humor. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, you too.” As you walked away, you realized your blunder and squeezed your eyes shut. 

–

The fifth floor of the office building had all of the markings of a corporation attempting to reel in more younger workers. There was a vending machine as soon as you walked in, the cubicles were arranged as part of an open concept floor plan, and the walls were plastered with positive, empty aphorisms. You scanned the area, wondering which of the people hunched over their computers was Jake.

Footsteps echoed behind you, and when you turned around you saw a slight, enthusiastic-looking young man with a shock of shaggy brown hair approaching you. In his hands he held two coffee cups. 

“Hey, newbie,” he said with some affection. “Got you a coffee.”

You took the cup, surprised by his vivacity. “Thank you…”

“Jake,” he finished, holding his hand out. “Jake Sim.”

You shook his hand as firmly as you could and introduced yourself.

“I know,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, I like to do a little stalking before we meet a new hire. Although…” his face grew serious. “You really shouldn’t post such…provocative pictures on your Insta. Someone could get ideas.”

Your face blanched and your fingers gripped the coffee cup. “What?”

Jake’s face broke out into a smile. “Just fuckin’ with you. Sorry, I like to razz all the new hires. Makes me feel big.”

His grin was so wide, you felt compelled to smile too. He nudged you and jerked his thumb in the direction of the cubicles. “Let me show you around, PCB.”

You blinked, then it dawned on you. “Park Corp buddy…?”

“So observant,” Jake said, amused. “Come on.”

You followed him around as he explained where everything was: the copy room, the coffee machine, the water dispenser, the popcorn machine, your cubicle (situated in the middle of the room, to your chagrin), his cubicle (tucked neatly in the corner).

Then he taught you how to use the software. Thanks to your university courses, it wasn’t difficult to learn. Jake’s playful personality also gave way to a maturity that you hadn’t expected. He carefully walked you through the program step by step.

“I’ll leave you these tasks to work on,” he said, pulling up a document he had pre-made. “If you get stuck, just come get me, okay? I’m right in the corner.”

You thanked him for his assistance and started working on the tasks he had given you. It wasn’t challenging, so much as it was tedious. Still, you persevered. 

At least, until you heard him approach you again.

“Hey,” Jake said, sitting beside you. His eyes darted around the room. “You were supposed to come get me.”

“You told me to do that if I needed you,” you replied, somewhat confused.

“Yeah,” Jake said slowly, “in case you feel the overwhelming urge to make Jakey’s day and let him help you with something so he can avoid doing his boring ass work. You don’t even understand the basics of being a PCB, do you?”

“You’re using me,” you said, waving an accusatory finger at him. 

“Can you blame me?” he retorted. “Sometimes I can…I can feel my soul leaking from my pores.”

You giggled, and he squinted at you in mock annoyance. “There’s no way you’re laughing at me,” he said, trying to fight a smile. “I’m dying, turning into a corpse, and you’re laughing.”

You shrugged. “At least you’ll die at the prime of your life.”

Jake’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oh, you think I’m in my prime, huh?”

“That’s not what I me-,”

“You’re hitting on me,” Jake said, leaning in. He blinked at you like a puppy. 

You leaned away, your cheeks feeling warm. “I’m not.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you were,” he said softly.

You were about to say something else, something intelligent and witty, but one of your new coworkers approached the two of you. 

“Couldn’t wait a day before sexually harassing the newbie, could you?” He was tall, pale, and had a shit-eating grin that could rival Jake’s. Unlike Jake, who was dressed in a blue button-down and slacks, this person wore a suit with a silky black tie.

Jake leaned away from you, balking at the accusation. “I am not sexually harassing her,” Jake said, clutching his heart. “I wasn’t even normal harassing her.”

“He wasn’t,” you chimed in. 

“Don’t cover up for this louse,” Sunghoon said, shaking his head at Jake. “Look at you, corrupting one of our brightest already with your salacious comments. Weren’t you supposed to be writing up a report on the-,”

“You hear this jerkoff?” Jake said, interrupting. “He puts on a little suit and starts using words like ‘louse’ and ‘salacious’, like we’re not in data analysis.”

“I am a data architect,” Sunghoon said, playfully slamming his hand on your desk. “And I will be treated like one, damn it.”

“Quit it,” Jake said, putting his arms around you and hugging you close to him. “You’re scaring my PCB.” 

“Your PCB is going to get PTSD if you keep touching her,” Sunghoon replied drolly, crossing his arms.

Jake grinned. “My PCB is going to get PTSD if I do PDA with her?” 

Sunghoon said, “Good one,” and they laughed and high-fived. You stared at them incredulously, noting that Jake’s arm was still wrapped around your shoulder. 

“Sorry,” you said slowly, “but I’d like to do my work…”

Jake withdrew his arm and tsked under his breath, standing up. “Great going, Sunghoon,” he hissed. “Now she hates you.”

“She hates you, idiot,” Sunghoon retorted as they walked away.

You slumped down in your chair, already feeling exhausted. You worked straight through your lunch break, and as you commuted home you wondered how the rest of your training week would go.

–

DAY TWO 

The next day, you felt a little more equipped to navigate your new job. In your purse, you brought some items with which to decorate your desk.

You came into work early, noting that very few people show up at this time. Perfect. With careful precision, you arranged your new trinkets on your desk; a magnetic calendar for your cubicle wall, a little plush doll, a notebook, a nice mousepad, and a little jar of chocolates. 

As you’re turning your computer on, you heard three male voices approaching your desk. Two of which you recognize. 

“There she is,” you heard Jake say quietly, “isn’t she cute?”

You looked up and waved. There was Jake, wearing a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Sunghoon, wearing another crisp suit. And a third person wearing an oversized collared shirt with dark blue jeans, looking you up and down. 

“You’re here early,” Jake said cheerfully. “Excited for work?”

“I just wanted to decorate my desk,” you explained, proudly displaying your newly decorated workplace.

The three men politely admired your table. Then Sunghoon nudged the third man in the ribs. He cleared his throat. 

“I’m Heeseung,” he said, awkwardly raising his hand. “Heeseung Lee.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied, holding your hand out.

You shook hands with him, and Sunghoon snorted. “I didn’t get a handshake from you.”

“You also didn’t introduce yourself to me…”

Sunghoon looked away, the tips of his ears going red. “Right. I suppose that was my folly. Apologies.”

Jake leaned down and whispered, “Isn’t he such a pretentious dick?” in your ear. You suppressed another giggle as you stuck your hand out.

Sunghoon shook it firmly. “Park Sunghoon,” he said with a smile. “Data architect.”

“You told her that already,” Jake said. 

“And I told you to shut up several times, not that you ever listened,” Sunghoon retorted.

You glanced at Heeseung, and he just shrugged at you. “They can’t stop,” he said, glancing between the two of them. “It’s hard-coded into their DNA to be idiots in front of cute girls.”

Jake squinted at Heeseung. “Oh, you think she’s cute? Are you into her or something?”

Heeseung raised his hands in self-defense, backing up. “No, no, not at all.”

You sighed. “Could…could I go ahead and start my work?”

Jake shook his head and stalked away from your table. “She fucking hates you, you know that?” he said, lightly pushing Heeseung. 

Later that day, as you’re packing up to head home, you hear footsteps that were already becoming familiar.

“Hey,” Jake said quietly, “the guys and I were wondering if you wanted to eat with us at lunch tomorrow?”

You blinked up at him. “No kidding?”

“Yeah. We want you to feel welcome here,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder. 

A smile spread across your face, and you nodded. “Sure. Sounds like it'll be a lot of fun.” Like seeing monkeys in the zoo.

Jake grinned, patting your shoulder. “Awesome! Awesome, awesome.” He paused then, placing his hand in his pocket. “One other thing,” he said slowly. 

“What’s that?” you tilted your head at him.

“Well, you know, you don’t have to dress so formally,” he said, gesturing at your outfit. “Unless you’re trying to be Sunghoon or something. You can dress business casual.”

You looked down at yourself; your outfit was pretty formal and rigid. “All right,” you said, “I’ll be nice and casual tomorrow.”

“Sounds great,” Jake said, biting his lip slightly. 

– 

DAY THREE

Work already felt much more comfortable. Besides the three coworkers you had already met, the rest of the employees ranged from amicable to ambivalent, so you never felt tense. Occasionally, Jake would come over to your desk and look at how you were coming along. Or, as you figured, he was just coming to ogle you. Not that you minded the extra attention. 

When you walked in this morning, dressed in your more casual outfit, his eyes had lingered on you for so long you thought it could be classed as a workplace violation.

“Very nice,” Jake had said approvingly. “Very…casual.”

“I try,” you had said drily, heading to your desk. 

“I’m serious,” he had said, walking with you. “You have, pardon me, a great figure.” 

“That’s not very PC,” Sunghoon had said as he passed by your desk. 

“So, what you’re saying,” Jake had started, and you were already rolling your eyes, “I’m not acting PC with my PCB?”

You had groaned. “Jake…”

“Great going, Sunghoon,” Jake had grumbled, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “You’re the worst, I swear…”

Now you were sitting with them in the break room, where they were locked in what you could only assume was a longstanding debate. 

“I’m saying that it wouldn’t be gay if it was on an island,” Jake protested, “so it wouldn’t even matter, Sunghoon.”

“Okay, but they’d eventually get rescued, so they’d have to live with that,” Sunghoon retorted, gesturing with his sandwich. 

“Yeah, but they don’t know that they’re getting rescued.”

You glanced at Heeseung, who was eating a microwavable meal. “What are they talking about?”

Heeseung leaned into you, whispering as so not to catch their attention. “It’s this stupid hypothetical they came up with,” Heeseung explained. “If there was an island, and a pair of adult siblings were on one end, and a pair of two straight men were on the other end, which pair would hook up first?”

You blinked. “Well, the siblings, right?”

A haunting silence overtook the break room. Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon all stared at you, and you got the impression that you had disrupted something sacred, something hallowed.

Sunghoon laughed and pointed at you. “See? See? Your little work wife doesn’t even agree with you. Those siblings would be smashing, right?”

“Well, I g-,”

“All over each other,” Sunghoon continued, making vulgar gestures with his hands. “It’d be like…five hours. Sweaty from the sun. They’d be rolling around, sand in their ass, it’d be carnal. Primal.”

Jake stared at you incredulously. “You really don’t think the straight guys would fuck?”

You shrugged helplessly. “Well, they’re straight, so I mean…”

Jake groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Okay. Look. If you were on an island with a sexy ass woman, and she had short nails and everything, and she was fully ready to finger your pussy, you wouldn’t let her smash? Because you were ‘straight’?”

“I mean…no.”

“Nah,” Jake said, waving a baby carrot in your face. “You’re either deluded or you aren’t thinking hard enough. You’d get desperate. You’d be munching so much carpet you’d look like…like…”

“Like a carpet factory,” Heeseung said sarcastically. 

“You’re so fucking unfunny,” Jake replied. “No, you’d look like…”

“Like she’s an interior designer?” Sunghoon offered. 

“Close enough,” Jake said, sighing. “Real dark day when Sunghoon is funnier than you. Do better, Heeseung.”

“Yeah, Heeseung,” you said, “do better.”

Heeseung scoffed. “I thought you were my friend.”

You shrugged. “I wanted to join in.”

Jake clapped you on your back and laughed. “Look at you. Blending in already!”

– 

After lunch you excused yourself and went to the bathroom. When you emerged, Jake was leaning against the wall, playing with his fingers. 

“Hey,” he said, straightening up. “Had a random hypothetical for you.”

“Sure,” you said, crossing your arms. 

“So,” Jake began, his eyes darting around your face, “if you were stuck on a deserted island…”

You groaned. 

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait.” Jake put one hand on your shoulder. “If you were stuck on a deserted island, which of us would you want with you? Me, Sunghoon, or Heeseung?”

You frowned. “Well, you, obviously.”

Jake smiled at you widely, running his fingers through his hair. “Ha, for real?”

“Well, yeah. I know you the best.”

His smile faltered. “Is that really the only reason?”

You frowned, unsure of what to say. “I me-,”

Jake clapped you on the back and snorted. “I was just messing with you,” he said before striding back to his corner cubicle.

–

DAY FOUR 

You consulted your list of tasks. Your last, and most important task, was to type up a data analysis report based off of the information you had been gathering for the past week. Jake said that he would look over it for you later.

After spending the better part of your morning working on the report, you leaned back and stretched. Your eyes were starting to hurt from staring at a screen for so long, and you rubbed them.

Jake was next to you before you could react. “Hey,” he said, “how’s the report going?”

“It’s going,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Let me see,” Jake said, leaning over you and scrolling through your document. Your breath hitched; he was so close, you could smell his cologne. If you glanced to your right, you would be able to see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. 

Jake silently pored over the document, his chest pressed against your back. His hand rested on your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell if he was rubbing it as a subconscious habit or not.

“Looking good so far,” he whispered, and when his hand slid down your arm, you knew it was intentional.

“Anything I need to fix?” you asked, attempting to maintain a semblance of professionalism.

“Hm…” Jake leaned in to you evermore, until he was flush against you. “Nothing I can see. You’re a good worker, aren’t you?”

“I try,” you said quietly. 

“A good little worker bee,” Jake said softly, his lips almost brushing your ear. “Just what I like.”

You dared to turn your head slightly to catch Jake’s gaze, and he smiled at you, that easy-going, smile that hid a wealth of sobriety and determination. He patted your shoulder again and leaned upwards. The loss of his scent and touch bothered you, but you didn’t say a word. 

“I’ll leave you to it now,” Jake said, stretching his wrists out. “Come early tomorrow, okay?”

“Huh? Why?” 

“So I can look over your report one last time before you submit it,” Jake said plainly. “What were you thinking, you naughty little bee?”

“I wasn’t thinking of anything like th-,”

Jake laughed. “I was kidding. You’re so cute when you’re all flustered, though.”

When Jake left, you realized that you had been squeezing your plush doll. You released it and sighed. Then, you continued working on the report. 

–

DAY FIVE 

You strode into the office early. Jake had emailed you through the company’s email, requesting that you arrive on the fifth floor at 7:30 am. Work started at 9:00, so he would have ample time to go over the report with you.

When you entered the floor, you first noted that there were a few workers already there, hunched over their desks. Just a few overachievers…or underachievers, you guessed. 

Jake was waving you over to his cubicle, his hair flopping in his face as he enthusiastically beckoned you. You walked towards him. 

“Come on,” he said, smiling at you playfully despite the early time. “Come sit.”

You went to pull over another chair, but Jake grabbed your wrist. “No, no,” he said with a shake of his hair. “Just sit next to me.” He scooted over in his chair, leaving you with a sliver of space. 

You were already growing accustomed to Jake’s “jokes”, so you sat next to him. Your left leg hung over the side of the chair, the other smushed against Jake’s. 

He smiled at you, then opened your report on his computer. You had sent it to him that night, your heart fluttering even though it was just an email. Just five days at this office was making you as pathetic as Jake and his friends. 

As he scrolled through the document, he kept glancing at you. Eventually, Jake said, “You can’t be comfortable sitting on the chair like that.”

“You’re right,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not.”

“Why not just…sit on my lap?” Jake asked nonchalantly, his lower lip jutting out in a slight pout.

You sighed. “I see the game you’re playing here, Sim.”

“Will you play, my little worker bee?”

A shift of your ass from the small slice of chair to Jake’s lap was your answer to him, and when you leaned against him he smiled. Jake’s hands reached down to encircle your hips. 

“You really are such a good bee,” he said, massaging your hips. 

“I can be even better if you let me,” you replied, your gaze flickering to his plush lips. 

Jake leaned his head against the mesh backing of his swivel chair. Your back was pressed against his chest, and your hands reached behind you to stroke his face. “I’d like to test that theory,” Jake said softly.

You leaned in and kissed him, reveling in the taste of his lips. He followed suit, kissing you enthusiastically. Jake’s hands remained on our hips, but they soon slid to your thighs, squeezing and groping at the soft flesh. Jake swiped his tongue along your bottom lip a few times, and you widened your mouth. His tongue probed past your lips, licking your own tongue.

“So good,” he whispered, briefly breaking the kiss. “You’d never let fuckass Sunghoon do this, right?”

“Jake…”

“Sorry, baby,” Jake said apologetically. “I get territorial. I’m like a wolf.”

“Jake, come on.”

“Awoo,” he said playfully before kissing you again. Your tongues pressed together, swirling around each other. As the kiss deepened, you bit his lower lip before licking the mark. Jake groaned into your mouth.

“Little bee,” he said, pulling away once again. He rested his forehead against yours. “If you’re going to do stuff like that, you’re gonna have to commit to it.”

“I want to commit to it,” you said, leaving wet kisses along his neck. 

Jake groaned and grabbed one of your legs. He brought it over his lap and dragged your hips closer to his crotch. “Now, you’re going to have to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”

“I can be quiet,” you said, resting your hands on his shoulders. 

“Promise? This isn’t a big office,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “It’d be a shame if someone heard us and you got in trouble. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

“No,” you whispered. As you stared at him, Jake started to unbuckle his belt. When he noticed your gaze, he frowned. 

“Come on, bee,” he said, gesturing at your skirt. “Can’t do everything for you, can I?”

You zipped your skirt down in the back and shifted so you could wriggle yourself out of it. Jake gave you an exasperated glance, so you shimmied your panties down to your thighs.

“And?” he asked impatiently.

“And…what?”

Jake sighed. “Take your tits out, come on.”

The phrase was so vulgar it shocked you, but somehow it was sexy when uttered from Jake’s mouth. The contrast between his disgusting mind and his boyish good looks thrilled you, so you did as he asked. You un-buttoned your shirt down and tugged your bra straps down, revealing your chest. 

Immediately, Jake groped your tits, sighing in pleasure. “Feeling up a pretty girl’s tits early in the morning,” he said, almost reverently. “This is amazing.”

The sensation cause you to moan, and Jake immediately sent you a harsh look. He squeezed one of your breasts, and you suppressed a gasp. “I told you to be quiet, little bee,” he whispered. “You said you could do it.”

“I can,” you murmured. 

“Then show me you can,” Jake replied, still fondling your breasts. He pinched your nipples, squeezed your tits, pushed them together then apart. After a while, he took one of your hands and placed it on his crotch. 

First, you rubbed his hard-on through his slacks, and he bit his lip to avoid moaning. Then you unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. You were surprised by its girth, as well as the fact that he was already leaking precum. Spitting into your hand, you gathered up some of that precum and used it to stroke his shaft. Jake shuddered and gritted his teeth together. 

“Nice and slow,” he said, his breathing already labored. “Slowly, baby.”

You heeded his order and stroked his cock while he played with your breasts. He hadn’t tired of them; on the contrary, he was transfixed by them. Jake leaned forward and bit one of your breasts hard, sucking at the spot immediately after. “Look at this and think of me,” he whispered before leaving another hickey on your other breast. 

Jake suddenly seemed to remember that he didn’t have much time with you. He took his mouth off of your breast and swatted your hands from his cock. Then he covered your lips with his hand and slowly, painstakingly, guided his cockhead into your dripping, wet pussy. 

You were glad you were being muffled by his hand, because you would not have been able to contain your shivering moans. He shallowly fucked into you, allowing you to get used to his length. When he felt that you were ready, he lifted his hips upwards and slid inside of you completely, letting out a heavy breath.

“Now bounce on it,” Jake whispered into your ear. One hand freely groped your breast, the other was clamped onto your hip. You guessed that he trusted you not to moan now. 

You had never ridden dick before, but you had a general idea of how to do it. You lifted yourself up and down, your pussy enveloping his shaft. The feeling was incredible, and you bit his hand as you worked yourself on his cock. As you did, the swivel chair squeaked due to the movement.

Jake shunted his hips upwards, matching your movements. His hand moved down to your waist, gripping it tightly. “Faster,” he hissed. “Faster, baby.”

Now that you had gotten used to him, you bounced on him faster. Your ass slapped against his strong, muscular thighs, and you knew that there was no way you were being conspicuous. Your pussy made smacking noises as you rode him, and the swivel chair squeaked like it was going to break.

Still, Jake urged you on. “Come on, come on, fucking put that slutty pussy to work,” he said, taking your tits into his mouth. Both of his hands were gripping your hips, pushing him onto his length. “Keep going. Don’t you dare…stop.”

You were reaching your limit, exhaustion seeping into your limbs. Jake lightly pinched your side, and you gasped. “I told you to keep going, baby.”

So you kept going. You swore you could feel him in your womb, that was how far he was pushing you. “Pussy’s gonna be shaped like this dick,” Jake hissed, leaving sloppy kisses all over your chest. “My masterpiece.”

Warmth filled you, all the way to your core, and you knew you were about to burst. “Cover my mouth,” you whispered and Jake immediately placed his hand over your mouth, rutting into you even faster.

“Gonna cum,” Jake grunted, his thrusts growing slower and sloppier. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up.” With a growl that didn’t dare leave his throat, he fucked his cum into you, his hand still gripping your hip. Slowly, painstakingly, he pulled out of you, and you could see his cum dripping out of you.

He kissed your forehead and uncovered your mouth. “That was so good,” you whispered.

“It’ll be better next time,” Jake said slyly. 

“Oh, yeah?” You started to put your clothes back on, tugging your bra down and buttoning your shirt again. “What makes you so sure?”

Jake leaned into your ear again. “Next time, I’ll get to hear you scream my name.”

You pulled away from him, your eyes widening. 

Jake smiled at you. “Just kidding.”

#jake sim smut #jake x reader #jake sim x reader #enha smut #enhypen smut #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #I had so much fun writing this #That being said...go to Day Five for smut if you're impatient

[theminecraftbee]

-slamming bolt upright in a cold sweat- what do you mean verbal contracts cleo. what do you MEAN verbal contracts cleo. artists if you're doing commercial work you're A) charging much higher rates and B) making them SIGN A CONTRACT, right? right? you understand why that's VITAL, right? why having a written contract is VITAL for commercial work? you understand? you make them sign a written contract? please if you go looking in proper artist/graphic design circles i'm sure you can find a basic form that's legal in your locality and doesn't require you talk to a lawyer but if you're doing commercial work you're MAKING THEM SIGN A CONTRACT RIGHT--

#stream liveblogging #sorry someone in a chat in my discord mentioned cleo said they were using verbal contracts and my raised-by-lawyers self sat bolt upright #artists: you can get away with just an email chain with a noncommercial commission #but if you're doing someone's branding/merch/commercial work #you've both GOTTA charge WAAAAY more #and you've GOTTA have a contract #and you've GOTTA check out the rights stuff (hint: you aren't giving them perpetual rights to the design unless you're charging out the ass #i'm not an artist or a lawyer so i don't know the exact details of how this should go down but #ohhhhhhh my god. #anyway this isn't supposed to be discourse i am certain basically every youtuber does this. unfortunately. #and i don't BLAME the ones who have because they just probably hadn't realized/assumed the people they were commissioning would know #but i'm just losing my marbles for a moment don't mind me. #oh my god. #ANYWAY BACK TO MY NORMAL SCHEDULED POSTS--.

[ilybigman]

i forgot to post this tumblrheads i'm so sorry. ANYWAY. TWO HATS PAGE. THEYMAKE ME SO SO SICK

(once again, appreciated if u don't tag as ship!)

#isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #isat #in stars and time #game: in stars and time #loop #siffrin #isat fanart #in stars and time fanart #ouygjgtjggtttt they makeme normal #shoutout to this one person in my tags who said they only tag sifloop as platonic #you're so real you understand me #(that was on my 'cutie patootie stardust!' gif) #i'd go in depth but i don't need to <:) i appreciate no one tagging it as ship so far. love you all #okay i'm done yapping enjooyyy ✨

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

caterpillar? more like cu. more like cunty. cuntypil. um.

#you're honor he's a bastard and a capitalist but despite his faults i love him very much #so i think he should be Absolved of all crimes and allowed to stay silly w/ it #he's really The Guy of all time... #cant wait to see more of him!!! #man now i gotta go listen to his audios i need to hear his goofy ass voice again <3 #scribble salad #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #howdy pillar #blowing him a kiss and then chucking the communist manifesto at his tube head #i could radicalize him... #no actually i dont think Anyone could #he doesnt even get paid. he's out there scamming and lying for shits and gigs #i fear that he's beyond redemption but That's Okay!!! #i support howdy pillar rights AND wrongs <3 #i have faith that he'll pay through suffering The Horrors and fuck knows what else <3 #i need him to get tossed around like a ragdoll in a rabid dog's mouth #tear the bitch apart! (said so so So affectionately)

[ahaura]

im sure its been said already but as the election draws near more and more liberals will come out of the woodwork to shame people with a conscience to give away their vote to the democrats for free. i'm already seeing posts saying "why aren't people more concerned about a trump presidency?" you want to know why? it's because people already know he's bad. everyone already knows what he is and what he's done and what he'll do. there's nothing to discuss. he's a racist despotic worm of a man. there's nothing else to say.

biden is currently president. the genocide is happening under his watch. he's the one funding isra*l and arming them; he's sidestepped congress more than once to give them weapons. by oct. 27, the biden administration already knew that "Israel was regularly bombing buildings without solid intelligence that they were legitimate military targets." the state department/biden have engaged in atrocity propaganda, cast doubt on the legitimacy of the death toll recorded by the gaza health ministry, and so on. the united states is currently in the process of trying to pin the "war in gaza" on netanyahu (see sen. schumer's speech) after months of backing blatant genocide as a means to act as if they're "doing something" about the genocide (Instead of, say, threatening to cut off all aid to israel with the condition that all hostilities in gaza, the west bank, and occupied jerusalem are halted immediately and permanently, allowing palestinians freedom to travel, allowing aid into gaza, etc etc etc.)

the long and short of it is that liberals view their own lives as being worth more than palestinians'. that's it. they'll vote for another 4 years of the guy ushering in genocide and supporting apartheid + settler colonialism because he isn't outright attacking them (despite various laws and rulings happening both at the supreme court level and at the local level all over the country that will endanger people). they'll settle for the illusion of safety and security and shame anyone with a conscience and accuse them of "supporting the republicans" when in an actual democracy you would be able to use your vote as leverage to extract concessions from those who want to be elected. that's how it's supposed to fucking work.

democrats are not owed people's vote. if biden loses, it will be biden's fault; it will be his campaign's fault; it will be the democrats' fault. trump is bad; the republicans are bad. we already know this. this is not an endorsement of either. but if democrats are too cowardly and feckless and servile to the motivations of the american empire and never do anything for their constituents then why the fuck should anyone vote for them. you want to get mad at someone, why don't you do something useful and stop worrying about team-sports with a purely selfish basis and start hounding the people in power who are supposed to serve you, the voter.

#i think i already said this and frankly idc #uspol #📁.zip #to me personally it's abhorrent and vile to tell palestinians 'biden is facilitating the murder of your people culture and history but you #still have to vote for him!!1' like how is that not unbelievably callous and ghoulish #frankly speaking. a lot of this 'you should be concerned about trump' is going to turn into #blaming palestinians and arabs and muslims and anyone remotely with a conscience for biden's loss #instead of doing something productive like pushing for people in power to do something they'll nitpick and belittle #and tell palestinians + arabs and muslims + everyone who understands that genocide is bad that they SHOULD #settle for a decrepit genocidal monstrous freak who is CURRENTLY facilitating genocide because #it makes THEM feel better and they aren't personally threatened (yet) by the guy currently in power #any and all 'you're not taking trump seriously' comments should be met with extreme skepticism #because i promise i PROMISE that the vast majority of people unhappy with biden are not going to turn around and vote for trump #and if they do? well guess what THAT'S BIDEN'S FAULT! nevermind the vote uncommitted campaign that was very successful and #will be replicated in the near future. but liberals only care about asthetics and superficial and not #about real material change which is why they'll dress up their callousness and racism in a 'you hate gay people if you dont vote for biden' #like this country is already going to shit we are rapidly descending into fascism and i dont see biden doing anything to even remotely #challenge it do you???? once agian. NOT an endorsement of the republican party but my GOD when the 'lesser evil' #is DOING the evil or normalizing the evil then you cannot settle for 'the lesser'! end of story.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

y'all need to get a grip. you blab all day about how much you hate bigots and hateful people and how evil it is to dehumanize anyone and then you turn around and say "kys" and "i think [x] should all just kill themselves" and other disgusting, violent and childish trash

so many people on here are just full of hatred and vitriol and turn into frenzied sharks anytime the target 'deserves it' and they think they can get away with it and not be called bad people. then they whine about how sad it is that we can't all just get along and if only all the evil people in the world would stop doing evil things wouldn't that be nicer

you're just as vicious, hypocritical and fanatically puritanical as the caricature you have made in your minds of the people you think you have nothing in common with. if you've ever told someone, ANYONE to kill themselves you're not advocates of justice, you're not artisans of peace, and you certainly don't have any moral high ground that would allow you to pass judgment on others

#i'm tired #you're so terrified of being bad people that you convince yourselves you could *never* be bad #and then any expression of hatred towards others (the “bad people”) gets reframed as proof of your own moral character #((making you even more afraid of being bad because you don't want to be at the receiving end of the hatred and so on and so forth)) #you can say whatever you want about religious people and esp christians but 1) you're as religious as they are but at least they know it #and 2) most of the christians i've met are magnitudes more forgiving of others than this website's self-righteous preachers #(this isn't about anything people have said to me btw it's about what i see reading blogs from all across the social/political spectrum) #this about the radfem-hating liberals and the pro-life-hating radfems and the liberal-hating pro-lifers. Round and round we go #it’s about the people who put rabid antisemitism on my dash and whose only socio-political analysis is to call EVERYTHING bad #“Just like nazism” #Yapping about how much more moral and enlightened they are than ppl who introduce nuance into complex topics while they parrot slogans #I hate slogans so bad