#I think it's very rarely delusional to think something about a celebrity

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Fascinating? U mean, fascinating in „oh i was wrong all along?“. I hope you wake up from ur delusions.

Oh anon - I just mean it's fascinating. I'm really interested in how people navigate the stories other people tell about them - whether or not those stories are right or wrong.

I have so many questions coming from what he said (none of which I think he would or should answer). I'm really interested in the change he describes - where he came to realise that there was nothing that he could do. When did he realise that? What difference did it make?

I've also been always interested if it was true. If there was actually nothing that he could do (at the beginning of 2016 I thought a lot about how Louis could make the story he was telling more persuasive). I think the strategies he's used over the last two and half years have been quite effective. If not changing what people believe, he's definitely reduced the salience of Larry to his career (and there are many measures of this - but the fact that there are only three articles discussing what he said so far is pretty fascinating).

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Jeongin - Taste

In Your Past - Chapter 3

Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU

Living in a world where soulmates are real, and everyone deals with it differently. Prequel to 'Pieces of My Heart'; how each member dealt with their soul marks, and first meetings.

Masterlist | Pieces Of My Heart

Jeongin always had a deep appreciation for food. Even before he turned 18, he liked to savor the food he ate, enjoyed the taste of his favorite foods and the comfort they brought him. He was always so conscious of the food that he was eating that he realized immediately the day after his 18th birthday when he started tasting things he didn’t eat. His mouth would suddenly explode in flavors, and he knew immediately that it was his soulmate.

The others were very excited to hear about his revelation.

“Our little maknae is all grown up!” Changbin had exclaimed.

“What are they eating right now? Wait, no. Are they eating something right now?” Han questioned.

Jeongin laughed. “They’re not eating anything right now, but I think they had something sweet earlier. It tasted like chocolate.”

They thought it was the coolest thing ever. They would randomly ask him about it, wondering what his soulmate was up to, and he found himself offhandedly mentioning the random tastes that he would experience when it happened.

“Oh, they’re eating peanut butter.”

“Hmmm, meat? Might be a hamburger.”

He remembers the particularly bad timing of one of his soulmate’s meals. They had just eaten a nasty combo of food, right in the middle of filming, and he had to resist the urge to gag for the next 20 minutes until the taste finally wore off. Channie-hyung and Lee Know-hyung then teased him after the shoot.

He was embarrassed, worried that he had ruined the entire thing (and also worried about the sanity of his soulmate to eat something so disgusting), and the company ended up editing out most of his faces for fear of someone finding out what soulmark he had. His manager told him it wasn’t his fault, but he still felt guilty for the extra time the editors had to put in to work around it. Still, he understood the necessity.

While soulmarks were so common that it was almost expected for celebrities to have them, but for idols it was expected to maintain the illusion of accessibility. To reveal a soulmark would essentially isolate a group of people from delusional believing they were made for their bias, and to ruin that illusion would ruin the popularity of a group.

It was disgusting that neither he nor the rest of the boys could talk about something so integral to their entire personality - his soulmark was the reason he always carried gum on him, and Felix’s soulmark made it impossible for him to utilize color schemes without the help of another.

Sometimes he found himself wishing he could talk about it. His soulmark was so odd, one of the most uncommon sensed based soulmarks, and he knew it would be next to impossible for him to find his soulmate based on it alone. He worried about it sometimes, whether he would ever meet them. He knew it was stupid, but he often found himself scrolling through forums, reading through posts made by other people with rare or ‘useless’ soulmarks.

‘I have a smell based soulmark … but my soulmate has the worst sense of smell! It took us nearly 30 years to finally meet, and that only because he had my first words. Can you imagine if he had initials, or taste, or something else equally vague? We never would have found each other!’ ‘I’m 58 and have yet to find my soulmate. I have initials, and despite my best efforts to get to know the names of everyone I’ve ever met, I simply have yet to find them. I’m convinced that my soulmate has to have a bad soulmark as well, otherwise they would have come looking for me by now, right?’ ‘Don’t worry too badly, I was 75 when I met my soulmate. Already happily married and with children, but they became one of my closest friends in such a short amount of time. When my wife died a year later, it was their support and friendship that kept me going. They showed up in my life right when I needed them, and I can’t imagine what I would do without them.’

He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t imagine having to wait 30 years, let only 70 to meet his soulmate. There was this longing that felt like it had dug a permanent hole in his chest and left him with a gaping hole, pulsing with need strong enough that it consumed his every waking thought.

Would his soulmate like this?

What would his soulmate think about that performance?

What’s his soulmate doing now?

He wanted them. He wanted them so badly that when someone came running up to him on the street claiming to be his soulmate, he only hesitated long enough to make sure they were telling the truth before he finally let that deeply held longing consume him.

Pulling them into his arms felt like healing, and suddenly he was whole again.

He couldn’t hold his excitement when Channie-hyung called him, so eager to share the news. He wanted the members to meet you, wanted to show you off to them, to his parents, to the world. He wanted to scream it from the rooftops. He was unable to stop smiling, fingers laced firmly around his own the whole walk back to the hotel, practically vibrating.

He felt a lump grow in his throat when you told him that you had other soulmates. It made his stomach feel fluttery when he had the same realization as you, watching as you walked towards Hyunjin and Seungmin’s shared room without a thought, eyes firmly on something he couldn’t see.

He wasn’t sure why he hated the thought of sharing you so much.

You were his, sure, but you didn’t belong to him. He wasn’t even sure your soulmate bond would ever be anything more than platonic, and it would be selfish of him to keep you all to himself. But even as he plastered on a fake smile, he was secretly hoping you would agree to wait to meet the others.

He just wanted you to be his, only his, just a little longer.

But then you looked up at him with a dazed look, eyes darting across his face with childlike wonder, and he felt something melt inside him.

“I’ll always be yours, Jeongin.” You whispered.

And suddenly he wasn’t so afraid of losing you anymore. The lump disappeared, the butterflies settling down in his stomach, and he gave you a genuine smile. It was only later as he watched the rest of the members surround you, watched as everyone’s faces became dazed with happiness, and saw the way your eyes held the stars as you looked at each and every one of them, that he realized maybe it would be so bad to have someone to share this feeling with.

And who better than his members to make sure that his soulmate would never have to be alone, never have to deal with the longing he himself had felt? For the first time in a long time, Jeongin wasn’t worried about what the future held. He was happy.

[louisisalarrie]

not d*uxmoi saying that celebrities and their teams don’t pay media outlets to run certain narratives because “that would be unethical”. like… her content is entirely unethical and she and her team absolutely get paid to run certain content because she’s somehow managed to foster a relationship with her followers who believe her content is organic. because she’s not The Daily Mail or The Sun, who most fans have less trust in, pr teams would use her to create and upkeep narratives because she’s an “insider”, who is not anonymous, so therefore she holds a certain authenticity and genuineness to her brand. her sources are fake.

she then backtracked in the comments and said “we were talking about monetary gain, not the exchange of other things” and like… listen. let me put it like this:

if Harry was caught doing something really bad that would jeopardise his career/brand, and a media outlet caught on and was going to post a story about it, his team would do one of three things, but this is heavily dependant on their relationship with said media outlet, the other content the outlet posts, the outlet’s demographic, the outlet’s current narrative, the outlet’s previous stories about him, and their exclusivity Agreement.

1. If the outlet had a good relationship with Harry’s team (previous exchanges, had run many successful Harry stories and narratives before, had a prime demographic similar to that of Harry’s fanbase/the GP they want to reach), Harry’s team would avoid monetary exchange, and instead promise this outlet exclusives, inside sources content, and big stories that would get the media outlet more clicks. This is an exchange, and kinda skates around and is a bit of a loophole from counting as a “gift” (which is illegal and unethical, and mid to major companies have a clause in their contracts of all staff saying that “gifts” cannot be accepted under any circumstances but this is technicaaalllyyy not a gift).

If H and L were going to come out, I can guarantee you maybe one or two outlets would have the exclusive. They’re not getting a free for all and letting any outlet post that breaking news. However, we know with such a delicate balance that is the Harry Styles™️ brand, they take his PR very seriously, obviously. So, in the scenario above where Harry is found out doing something really bad, what do PR teams do with media who they do not have a good relationship with/lack a relationship with them/they are not in an Agreement with them already?

That’s right! They take option 2.

2. They will pay off that media outlet to not run the story, with money. They are not going to give that company the promise of exclusive stories to run, because why would they? His team have exclusive outlets they are partnered with (Daily Mail being one in particular), and they don’t wanna be owing every media outlet the inside scoop, because that goes against exclusivity Agreements they already have, and ruins their relationship with said exclusive outlets, and makes the story, well, not exclusive. The Harry Styles brand has more than enough money to throw around, and they will silence these outlets with cash, as it’s an easy and quick fix, and media outlets looooove $$.

But, d*uxmoi talks about a paper trail, and that’s why they don’t do it. But… well… they still do. You think these big companies can’t get rid of paper trails? You think these big companies aren’t all owned and monopolised by the same few important folks? They certainly are. And hush money has been around for a very long time. She’s absolutely delusional by saying it doesn’t happen, but that’s her brand. She doesn’t wanna say it does, because people will believe she is part of that and she’ll lose her little famous corner of the internet.

But option 3, can also happen, it’s just a bit more rare and is resigned for very serious cases because it’s a long process and a lot of paperwork.

3. If for whatever reason the story is still posted by an outlet, even after being offered the other two options above, Harry’s team will sue for defamation etc. It doesn’t matter if the story is actually true or not, they’ll get everyone else to shut up and then absolutely kill this outlet. Anyway, this is a lot rarer but still happens depending on the size of the outlet and their relationship/sway on the public/how negative the content will affect Harry’s brand.

Now, you might be asking, okay… well if Louis has such an influential team who have connections, why do they let the media run negative stories about him? Why doesn’t he ever get the same amount of press?

Well, his team, while still being very important and respected (blegh) in the industry, don’t find much point of trying to run or stop these stories, unfortunately. They can’t run any inside scoops because Louis isn’t stunting right now. Their scoops promised to these companies at the moment would be “Louis announces AFHF via cryptic twitter post and everyone wants to know where it’s being held” in which… the GP don’t care. They’ll probably get some clicks from us and the Louies, but this story would be entirely different if it was about Harry.

So yeah, they don’t really have anything to offer these companies, and while we have pushed to see more Louis content in the media to try and reach a wider demographic, it’s not happening because his team don’t really have any scandals or anything that would gain clicks right now, unfortunately. And the Louis smear campaign that happened years ago affects his media presence immensely, and outlets don’t really care or wanna post about him. So, his team have neglected their media relationships through a lack of stunting, and he won’t be given any front page articles unless it’s something really big, or his team pay a lot of money to run it.

And you might be thinking “Liam, zayn, and niall are also neglected in the media, why is that?” And well, same as Louis, they don’t have any big scandals/stunts right now. Zayn got some promo because “he’s back holy shit!!” but that promo was also linked to Harry lol, and then that was kind of it. So his team are finding other ways to promo (Liam with Stanpass or whatever that is, zayn with the radio thing he’s doing right now etc.). And while this may seem like such little promo compared to Harry, their teams are focusing on different platforms because Harry stories are alwaysssss front page and overshadow the other boys, but they’re also fostering a deeper relationship with fans, something that Harry doesn’t have.

I’ve talked before about all their teams collaborating and organising when they will run stories because they don’t want their clients to overshadow each other and provide a media over saturation of 1d as they all have a similar demographic, but it’s mainly between the 4 of them. Harry has too much of a handle on the GP and stunting etc. to cooperate with that now. The only way I think they’d do this again would be if there was a massive announcement that Harry actively didn’t want to overshadow with stunting (any of the boys coming out or something), or something that Harry’s team didn’t want to associate with the 1d brand (a huge negative scandal from Louis/zayn/niall/liam).

Anyway, fostering the fan to artist relationship has really become huge over the last few years. Harry kinda missed that train though, except when he’s on stage. But he doesn’t keep it up when he’s not. He doesn’t do AMAs or twitter chats, he doesn’t do a live radio stream thing where fans can comment in real time, doesn’t give fans access to exclusive content, but he doesn’t have to. I’m sure he’d enjoy it, but it doesn’t work with his fanbase, demographic, how big he is etc., so there’s no need. Him doing a pap walk every once in a while is enough. But I do think the Harry train is gonna slow down more. It already has. Which I think is good for him. That’s not a negative criticism by any means. Like I’ve said before, he’s still untouchable at the moment. There’s too much of a divide between him and his fans.

Also I love and adore Harry and im immensely proud of everything he’s done, I promise. It’s just a fact about demographics and marketing.

Anyway, when talking about this, I wanna say that this post is focused towards the Daily Mail and the Sun, gossip mags and blogs etc., not his interviews and photoshoots with other media.

Also, this turned into a bigger ramble than I thought, but I’ve seen this shit happen… soooo yeah.

I know we already don’t, but don’t give d*uxmoi clicks or listen to a word she says. She’s protecting herself and her brand. That’s just simply not how the industry works.

[lazyscience]

So many of you may have heard the Andrew Tate lung cancer rumor?

The lung cancer appears to be fake. (while I don’t speak Romanian I have read a metric fucking shitton of pathology reports, and this looks like the real deal - if anybody out there does speak Romanian and knows different about the report or the reputability news outlet, or if you have image-fu and think this is a shop job, feel free to chime in. looks like the right letterhead and facility though.)

What this report says, if accurate, is that they did a fine needle aspirate of a nodule in his lung (which would have been a clinically appropriate way to evaluate his weight loss and claims from his manager that he had a “lesion” that was being tracked by his doctor in Dubai), and what the Romanian hospital found was that while there is indeed something in his lung, it is due to a “reactive process” and is benign. This is a very well known phenomenon in smokers of all kind (tobacco is super full of irritants, but marijuana can also have contaminants or mold/fungal spores that can piss off lung tissue).

Something else interesting - anabolic steroids and supplemental testosterone have a possible link to pulmonary eosinophilia, which does what? can ALSO make your lungs unhappy.  

Anyway, Andrew Tate’s manager undoubtedly knew about the nodules that they were probably treating with “watch, wait and fuck’s sake stop smoking” prior to his arrest, and just trying to get his guy back to Dubai where he can then run away. And if Romania didn’t have a healthcare system, it might have worked!

Fear not, the continuing Fuck Around and Find Out energy for this guy remains epic.

We’ll just ignore for the moment the part where Mr. Pickup Shartist appears to believe he has to explain that being in jail is in fact like being confined in a small space one cannot leave at any time to his followers. The line about the ghost, that’s him trying to look profound and poetic or some shit, right?

Or...maybe not.

Is it option B, steroid withdrawal? Would also explain his alleged 10 kg weight loss (muscle mass loss and also anorexia), hair loss, insomnia, low mood and occasionally, psychotic symptoms!  

Or option C, he’s realized that cancer is an objectively provable claim, while mental illness is a lot harder to prove someone is faking rather than actually delusional, and has decided to go that route to try and get out via fraudulent medical care.  

However, if the Romanian prison system isn’t a lot more sympathetic than say, the US prison system, he could be waiting a LONG fucking time for someone to care about his mental health in there. A very, very long fucking time.

If I was a better person I would probably not be entertained by this. but it’s honestly so rare to see an even D-list “celebrity” white dude actually experience consequences, I just can’t help myself.

[jentlemahae]

met gala theme is confusing bcs it's vague asf. "garden of time" is actually based on a book but lbr no one is reading that so people will most likely take it literally. the theme of the exhibition itself is "sleeping beauties: reawakening fashion" aka archive pieces that can't be worn anymore bcs they're too old and delicate. basically this year is celebrating the conservation of clothes (and lowkey a dig at kim k wearing and ruining marilyn monroe's dress). so we're assuming that there'll be a lot of floral or maybe clock/time themed outfits, or if they follow the exhibition theme, sad pyjamas and princess cosplay. so it could be ugly but there is definite potential for some cunt to be served.

let's be delusional and assume the pinks are going. it would be a slay if the bp member with the song called flower attended the met gala with the theme "garden of time" and dior has a lot of good looks for this but at the same time i do NOT trust jisoo's stylist. jisoo is also the only one still in korea so rn it seems she's not going. lv is ugly but lisa's stylist thinks outside the box so i'm intrigued to see what she puts lisa in. could be really good or really bad. for once, chanel has the potential to do really well. they have a lot of floral archive gowns that jennie would look amazing in but i worry her stylist will play it safe, as both jennie and her stylist seem to be afraid of gowns for some reason. with the theme in mind, i'm the most worried for rosé. ysl rarely goes all out for the met and their most recent floral clothes are umm... not great. remember that purple and yellow mini dress rosé wore once? yeah. i'm scared she's gonna just wear that. unless ysl do an archive recreation, we probably won't be getting a good outfit from hér.

exactly how i feel 😐 they all have the potential of absolutely slaying the theme but i honestly don’t feel confident about that, atp all i want is for them to look good and not too boring (looking at u ysl….). and im mildly positive for that for jenlisa because lisa’s stylist seems to know what they’re doing with lv so this could be very good, and jennie and her team manage to make anything look good and interesting so im not too worried for her, though i don’t think either of them will do something experimental and avantgarde. rosie tho……i need ysl to pull themselves together for this one ☹️ and i agree, im bummed that it seems like jisoo isn’t going cause this would have been perfect for her :( yes her stylist likes boring and safe but at least they don’t seem afraid of gowns so it could have been fun

[intergalactic-chameleon]

gender thoughts: friendships with straight boys + girls

i've sort of talked about this before but god being able to make friends or just silly conversation with boys, especially straight boys, really is something that is fun for me. in general, i dont really care about straight men -- i far prefer queer men, and i look up to them way more that i would a straight man (excluding celebrity actor men that i like lol). but regardless, sometimes, having some silly goose banter with another straight guy that i deem Okay enough to enable myself to talk to can be such a special little treat for me. i grew up loving being friends with boys, and had many successful friendships with them, but especially as i went into middle school, rarely did the majority ever truly want to be my friend back. either they had feelings for me that were unwanted/not reciprocated OR more often than not, they just... didn't care. they didn't see me as a Real friend probably bc didn't see me as a viable dating candidate AND i would not dumb myself or my morals down for them to see me as "one of the good ones." and it fucking sucked!! guys in high school were absolutely atrocious when it came to feminism/LGBT stuff which was super disheartening.

but now that im in college (even tho it's ending soon), i feel a lot more... respected as a human being than before. which isn't saying a lot lol, straight men still are misogynist and bigoted in various other ways which make them unappealing to me. but i noticed as soon as i transferred to art school last year, men and women were far more integrated than what i had seen in high school. and seeing that really renewed my faith in making friends with another man, even tho i still probably will stick with queer men as my buddies for my sanity's sake.

in the perspective of my genderqueer identity, getting to positively interact with other masculine people (including men of course) feels so EUPHORIC... even if the other person only sees me as a Girl, i still express myself pretty openly and authentically if given the chance and i feel like they respond well to it. i've noticed a couple guys that ive interacted with once or a few times before that give me a glance while walking past me every now and then, as if to say "i think you're cool. im probably not gonna try and talk to you cuz im shy and unsure if i actually wanna be friends or not, but you intrigue me." of course, i may just be projecting what i Want them to think hahaha. but i swear, when i talk to straight boys like they're my equal, i think that genuinely makes an impression on them. and so they wonder about me. straight boys wanna be my friend but they're emotionally repressed and/or dont deserve my friendship!! and honestly? i kinda... dig that. lmfao. feels like i have the upper hand for once in my life. i swear im not being delusional HAHA.

but yea, anyway... i was just thinking about this because masculinity is weirdly important for me. being able to express it while in camaraderie with someone else is !!! so exciting! feels like im making up for lost time all those years that my male peers rejected me, forcing me to only really interact with girls. and just to be clear, i didn't have a problem with girls at all. they were a far better option than the boys so ofc p much all of my friends were girls for a very long time and expressing myself femininely wasn't like, totally inauthentic. but since i felt like girls were my only choice back in the day, that lead me to sort of repress any masculinity i wanted to express because i knew a lot of girls wouldn't "get" it. i've always felt different from most girls in general - being queer and neurodivergent and all - and trying to fit in with any of them who had any semblance of popularity (and who were usually very pretty + feminine) just... never really worked. to this day, i just dont feel feminine enough to really connect to the vast range of girls i've come in to contact with. a lot of them have access to a certain kind of social capital that i just never will be able to access simply by being more feminine that me. which is ok, i like spending my time exclusively with queer, trans, gnc, neurodivergent people. but yea, i've always kind of felt like an outsider to the womanhood that a lot of my cis female peers seem to experience, yet i don't exactly feel explicitly left out. this outsider experience is voluntary in a lot of ways because i know this experience just isnt exactly for me. womanhood as i know it is very informed by heterosexual dynamics and compulsory femininity and that just isn't my vibe at all!

[words-for-holland]

Always Yours

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Sometimes dating a celebrity is hard...but Tom & Y/N have always said no matter what happens they could get through anything. Some angst but a lot of fluff.

A/N: So sorry for leaving yall hanging! Life is just crazy right now and this blog needs a lot of TLC tbh!! Also ehh I def dont think this was my best work but enjoy?

“Oof” Y/N lets out as she plops on to her boyfriend who was lying comfortable on the couch. Tom groaned at the impact with a cheeky smile on his face, his arms instantly wrapping around Y/N’s frame.

“Y’know..there are empty seats right there.” The soft brown-eyed boy gestured with the flick of his thick head as Y/N raises her eyes looking down at him, pretending to be slightly offended.

“Oh I see how it is then. It’s cool...Ill just cuddle with Tessa instead. I know she would welcome me with open arms instead of—” As she slowly starts getting off his chest, Tom is quick to pull her back in, securing her with his strong arms. “No baby, I was just kidding. I want you right here, and Im never letting you go.” he pleas.

The only thing Y/N could manage was letting out a fit of giggles into his chest, a sound that Tom adored and would do absolutely anything to hear every minute of every day. They stay like this for a while enjoying the feeling of each other as they both run their hands into each others hair, the feeling of their chests moving up and down, the subtle thumps of their heartbeats, and the little slips of adoration that came out of their mouths. It was peaceful. A moment that nobody could really take a way because it was theirs.

Y/N casually pulls up her phone, and scrolls through Twitter when she noticed a particular tweet on her timeline. Her eyebrows furrow, as she read the 160 character message.

Why Tom Holland Should Be With Aaliyah Cole and Dump Y/N: A Thread.

She knew it wasnt a good idea to open up the thread. She knew very well that everything within the shallow string of tweets would be a complete waste of her time because it was made up by fans who just wanted to satisfy their fantasy of shipping Tom with his co-star. Who can blame them? They always had great chemistry, but it was part of the job and thats all it would ever be.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Tom murmurs, as he places soft kisses at the crown of her head. “Whats going on?” She was lucky her phone was facing away from Tom, quickly closing the app and pretending to be on one of her many tabs in Safari.

“Mmm..nothing.” Y/N lies softly, a tight-lipped smiled plastered on her face.

“Absolute bullocks. Youre not a very good liar.” He chuckles. “Tell me darling. Whats on your mind?”

Y/N rolls her eyes in response. She’s heard that comment one too many times in her life from everyone shes known. After not giving it much thought, she gives in, sighing heavily. “Dont judge me for what Im about to say.”

“Mmm...I think it might depend on wha— Ow” Tom reacts as he playfully rubs the side of his chest that Y/N hit. “Okay too soon for jokes. Go on.”

Again, Y/N sighs as she props herself up. “Its just ... well a lot of your fans keeps talking about wanting you to get with Aaliyah.” She looks down trying not to make eye contact with Tom, who she’d imagine was looking at her with annoyance.

Tom rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness. Not so much at Y/N but the fact that some of his fans just didnt want to accept the fact that he was happy with Y/N. If it had to come from his mouth to stop the stupid rumors and give his girlfriend peace, then hed gladly yell it from the rooftops for everyone to hear. “Thats it Im making a statement about it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in fear, scrambling to prevent him from grabbing his phone on the table next him. “No no no no.” She repeatedly declines. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“Darling, Im not going to stand here and watch you get all insecure because of their delusional ship.”

“Yeah well Im not gonna be the reason your fans hate me because Im getting in the way of your friendship with Aaliyah Cole.” She fires back.

Tom was ready to open his mouth only to be cut off once again. “And you know better. That is how your fans will always see it.”

“Okay, are you done?” He calmly asked, cautiously observing her. Rarely did Y/N ever get worked up about anything, but when she had her tangents, Tom always made sure she got off everything she needed to say before he becomes her voice of reason.

“Yeah, I guess.” she says feeling defeated. “Look its whatever and Im tired, can we just let this go and forget this whole conversation even happened?”

Tom was unconvinced, but didnt want to push her further. So reluctantly, he gave in and wrapped his arms around Y/N as they both tried to lull themselves to sleep.

***

Y/N wasnt sure how she ended up in the Tube. It was strange how the lights flickered off the rusted tile floor. The train was no where to be seen, but off to the side of the railroads was pitch black, she could hardly see beyond. To her right she noticed herself standing in the corner of the room, and to her surprise Aaliyah was there. Her milk chocolate kissed skin, and fashionably long frizzy hair dropped down past her shoulders. Her figure long and poised, as she wore a rain jacket and sweats. An outfit only she could pull off and make it look like she was a model for Vogue. Aasliyah smiles brightly at Y/N.

“Hey Y/N.” She says cheerfully as a genuine friend would.

To Y/N’s surprise she greeted her back in the same tone. “Hey Aaliyah...uhh whats going on?” Y/N wasnt sure if she wanted the answer of how they both ended up in the Tube or if she truly wanted to know how her day went.

“Well Im getting ready to present at the Oscars.” She replies, a smile plastered as if she was so excited about it, almost too excited like she was keeping a secret.

“Really? Oh my god, that’s amazing! Im so proud of you Aaliyah! Who are you taking?”

Aaliyah pauses for a few moment looking back and forth, making sure no one else was around. “Okay can you keep a secret?” She whispered.

Y/N nods her head slowly, not having the slightest clue of what was going on. “Im taking Tom. I think he really likes me, and well...I like him too! Do you think maybe I should ask him when we go?” Aaliyah asked genuinely. It was almost like she had no recollection of Y/N and Tom being a couple. “I think we would look good together. Everyone is already making rumors and ships about us.”

Y/N backs aways lowly only to bump into a broad figure. As she turns around she sees Tom, emotionless and almost sad. “Y/N.” He speaks out. “I dont think this is going to work out. Im leaving you.”

Y/N’s heart quickens, and her breaths become shorter as she tries to find a way to run. Running and running into the darkness, until all she could hear was Tom’s faint voice calling out her name.

***

“Y/N! Y/N! Baby wake up please.” Tom cries as he gently shakes his girlfriend from her disturbed sleep.

Quickly Y/N opens her eyes and clutches on to Toms hoodie firmly. Back home, and in Toms arms. It was a dream was all she thought. A sigh of relief escaping from her mouth.

“Darling...” he speaks softly, worried about his girlfriend. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looks up at him and nods frantically. “Mmm..bad dream.”

“Yeah it seemed like it. You were so frightened...I was scared. What happened?” He’s looking at her, trying to read her saddened eyes, wanting to desperately understand what scared her so he could make it all go away for her.

Y/N looks down at her fiddling hands, as she sits on the couch. “I uhh...” she lets out a chuckle, thinking of the ridiculousness of it all. “I uhh...dreamed about Aaliyah going to the oscars and saying how she loved you and how you two are perfect for each other. When I turned around I saw you but you werent happy and said you were leaving me.”

Tom doesnt say a word, all he could think about was how sorry he felt to put Y/N in this position. Though both of them knew, It wasnt Toms fault, or anyone’s for that matter. Feelings are feelings and that was okay. No human being was ever born perfect and without insecurities.

Y/N always tried to be a good sport with situations like this knowing every shippers theory and evidence were hardly ever true, but at some point there was only so much she could take before it all came out like an oil spill. Maybe it was a sign that she wasnt good enough to be with Tom if half of his fanbase thought this way as well.

Tom cradled her into his arms again, holding her tightly and kissing the top of her head. “Darling, I know youre still doubting yourself about all of this, but please believe me when I tell you that I love you so so much and no matter what happens...Im always yours.” He whispers gently in her ear. “It was only a dream and these ridiculous rumors and theories are just that. No one woman in the world could ever make me feel the way I feel for you.”

Y/N blinks softly, as she stares into space. Afraid and in a weird way ashamed, its funny how something so small and so minimal could affect her self-esteem so greatly. Tom gently brings her head up, so her eyes can meet his. He rolls his thumb on the bottom of her soft lips. “Hey, I love you.” Tom smiles.

Time stopped for the both of them the moment Y/N looked into his eyes, she felt safe. All the bad words and thoughts slowly disappear. Tom was right, none of the things that anyone said about their relationship mattered. She knew Tom loved her, and how much she truly loved him. Isnt that enough? Of course not. It was more than enough. A smile slowly forming on Y/N’s face. “Theres that smile I love so much.” He comments.

“Im sorry, for being such a —”

“No. Its okay. You have a right to feel the way you did.” He picks up her hand and leaves a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much Tom.” She says pressing her lips to his. “I dont deserve you.”

“Darling, its me that doesnt deserve you. Im always yours.” Tom proclaims as he kisses her back.

[proud-mom85]

Moments from the Misha, Darius Zoom:

Darius: I WILL SAY THE FIRST THING ONE WANTS TO DO IN A ZOOM TO ESTABLISH DOMINANCE IS WHEN THE BACKGROUND CONTEST.

__________

MISHA: WE BOTH MOVED TO L.A. IN -- DARIUS: 99.

MISHA: DECEMBER OF 98, RIGHT BEFORE NEW YEAR'S. WE MOVED INTO THE SAME LITTLE, YOUR AUNT'S FRIEND'S HOUSE ON THE VENICE CANALS. YOUR WIFE WAS PREGNANT WITH YOUR FIRST CHILD AT THAT POINT AND MY WIFE AND I DID NOT KNOW IT AND WE WERE LIKE WHY ARE THEY SLEEPING ALL DAY, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM?

DARIUS: THERE WAS A GAS LEAK ALSO IN THE HOUSE. SO WE WERE ALL SLEEPING ALL DAY.

MISHA: THAT'S TRUE.

___________

MISHA: THERE WAS A TIME WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER WHEN I DON'T KNOW THAT I THERE WAS A TIME WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER WHEN I DON'T KNOW THAT I WOULD HAVE GENUINELY CELEBRATED YOUR SUCCESSES, BUT THERE WAS A TIME FOR YOU STARTED MAKING THE MOVIE "LOOT" THAT WAS YOUR FIRST BIG SUCCESSFUL PROJECT. I THINK IN THE PROCESS OF MAKING THAT I REMEMBER FEELING OVERWHELMED WITH SUPPORT AND JOY FOR YOU. I JUST WANTED YOU TO SEE THIS CREATIVE VISION THROUGH AND NOTHING WOULD HAVE MADE ME HAPPIER THAN IT TO BE SUCCESSFUL.

_____________

DARIUS: I DON'T THINK I WOULD BE EVEN REMOTELY THE SAME PERSON HAD WE NOT BEEN FRIENDS...

_____________

DARIUS: AND WE BOTH AUDITIONED FOR IT AND AS FATE WOULD HAVE IT, YOU ENDED UP IN THE LEAD ROLE OF THAT PLAY AND WITH ALL SINCERITY YOU DID AN INCREDIBLE JOB, LIKE IT WAS ONE OF THOSE MAGICAL, I THINK YOU WOULD AGREE, ONE OF THOSE MAGICAL SCHOOL PLAYS THAT JUST IS INCREDIBLY MEMORABLE. I STILL REMEMBER IT, JUST SITTING THERE AND ENJOYING IT AND WATCHING YOU KIND OF YOUR BEST. IN I REMEMBER THEN FEELING REALLY PROUD OF YOU. I REMEMBER SITTING AND WATCHING YOU ACT AND FEELING LIKE THIS IS WHAT THIS GUY IS HERE TO DO. BECAUSE YOU WERE ON STAGE AND IT WAS SO UNDENIABLE.

_____________

DARIUS: I FEEL LIKE WE HAVE HAD A PRETTY CLEAR CHANNEL OF SUPPORT FOR EACH OTHER ALL ALONG. AND I WILL SAY, HAD IT NOT BEEN FOR YOUR SUPPORT ALL THOSE YEARS MAKING SOUND OF METAL, I DON'T KNOW THAT I COULD'VE MADE IT. THAT'S HOW IMPORTANT IT WAS, THOSE WERE HARD YEARS COME ALONG, YOU KNOW, 10 YEARS OF FAITH IN A PROCESS THAT HAD NO PROOF OF CONCEPT. SO, YOU KNOW, I NEEDED THAT SUPPORT AND YOU WERE THERE MANY, MANY, MANY TIMES OVER. I REALLY HATE TO BE SINCERE WITH YOU, I FEEL LIKE IT FEELS WRONG BUT THAT IS THE TRUTH.

____________

DARIUS: ...BECAUSE HE AND I BOTH CAME FROM SO LITTLE. I DON'T THINK WE WERE THAT AFRAID TO HAVE LITTLE. I DON'T THINK WE WERE AFRAID TO SCRAPE THE BOTTOM AND KEEP SCRAPING THE BOTTOM AND SCRAPING THE BOTTOM A LITTLE MORE.

MISHA: I HAVE HAD AN INTERESTING RELATIONSHIP WITH THAT SCARCITY DYNAMIC BECAUSE ON THE ONE THING, WHAT YOU ARE SAYING IS TRUE AND I ALWAYS IN MY HEART OF HEARTS KNOWN I WOULD BE OK WITH NOTHING, I WOULD BE OK LIVING IN A TENT IF I NEEDED TO. AND THAT KNOWLEDGE PROVIDES A PRETTY BIG SAFETY NET, BECAUSE YOU NEVER WALK AROUND FEELING LIKE I NEED THIS MONEY. I KNOW I'M GOING TO BE OK.

AT THE SAME TIME, COMING FROM POVERTY, I THINK THE ALLURE OF MONEY HAS BEEN MAYBE MORE POWERFUL THAN IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR ME OTHERWISE. IF I HAD ALWAYS HAD MONEY, I MIGHT NOT HAVE BEEN SO DRAWN INTO MAKING MONEY WHEN THAT OPPORTUNITY FINALLY CAME IN MY LIFE. AND I MAY HAVE MADE CHOICES THAT DIDN'T THAT WEREN'T QUITE SO DRIVEN BY MAKING MONEY, IF THAT MAKES SENSE. AS I'M GETTING OLDER, I AM ABLE TO FORMULATE THESE THOUGHTS AND RECALIBRATE TO AN EXTENT. BUT THERE WAS A TIME WHEN I WAS MAKING MONEY JUST FOR THE SAKE OF MAKING MONEY WHEN IT WASN'T REALLY ABOUT ANYTHING CREATIVE OR BIGGER THAN THAT, AND I THINK THAT WAS A LITTLE BIT ALSO RELATED TO HAVING COME FROM POVERTY.

DARIUS: THAT IS INTERESTING, I DON'T THINK YOU'VE EVER REALLY VOICED THAT TO ME, THAT SCARCITY MODEL YOU HAD WORKING THAT WAY. THAT MAKES SENSE ACTUALLY, AND I THINK PEOPLE KNOW THIS ABOUT YOU, BUT IT WA SA LEVEL OF POVERTY THAT WAS THREATENING. IT WASN'T LIKE WE WERE KIND OF POOR OR YOU ARE SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE CLASS SPECTRUM, YOU WERE IN A SERIOUS, SERIOUS LANDSCAPE OF POVERTY.

_______________

MISHA: IT'S FUNNY, FROM THE VANTAGE POINT OF CHILDHOOD, YOU TO ME IT LOOKED JUST AWASH IN MONEY. YOUR FAMILY WAS FUCKING LOADED. AND I REMEMBER YOUR DAD, ONCE EVERY THREE MONTHS OR SO WE WOULD ALL GO OUT TO PANDA EAST, WHICH IS BASICALLY THE CHEAPEST CHINESE RESTAURANT IN TOWN COME UP BUT TO ME IT WAS LIKE CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT WE ARE JUST GOING OUT AND ORDERING WHATEVER WE WANT AT THIS RESTAURANT? IT SEEMED SO OPULENT TO ME. IT'S REALLY AMAZING.

______________

MISHA: I REMEMBER DRIVING UP TO PUTNEY RIGHT AFTER I GOT MY DRIVERS LICENSE, I WAS 16 AND A HALF OR 17 AND DRIVING UP ON A SCHOOL NIGHT AT 3:00 IN THE MORNING JUST TO CHECK ON YOU, BECAUSE I KNEW YOU WERE KIND OF ON THE EDGE AT THAT POINT. YOU COULD HAVE EASILY NOT SURVIVED HIGH SCHOOL AND A COUPLE OF YEARS AFTER THAT. YOU WERE REALLY ON THE EDGE.

DARIUS: IT'S TRUE.

MISHA: YOU WOULD GO FOR DAYS WITHOUT SLEEPING, YOU WERE A PSYCHOLOGICAL MESS AT THAT POINT AND I DO REMEMBER GOING UP THERE AND WORRYING ABOUT YOU AND CHECKING ON YOU.

_______________

DARIUS: I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I HAVE FOUND THAT I HAVE NOT NEEDED YOU LESS AS I GOT OLDER.

_______________

DARIUS: YEAH, SO, HERE IS THE THING ABOUT THE OSCARS. I HAVEN'T REALLY TALKED ABOUT THIS AT ALL. BUT THE OSCARS COINCIDED WITH - AS YOU KNOW, MISHA, COINCIDED WITH A REALLY CRAZY TIME FOR ME BECAUSE MY BEST HAVE A VERY SICK CHILD.

- BECAUSE I HAVE A VERY SICK CHILD. SO AROUND THE TIME OF THE TIME OF THE OSCARS, LEADING UP TO THE OSCARS IS MAYBE ONE OF THE DARKEST, MOST DIFFICULT TIMES OF MY LIFE DEFINITIVELY. AND YOU KNOW I HAVE HAD SOME DARK TIMES.

SO, SO OFTEN WE LOOK AT THESE THINGS AND IT LOOKS LIKE ONE THING. AND WE NEVER KNOW THE SUBPLOT THAT LIVES BEHIND IT, AND WE NEVER KNOW WHAT HAPPENS BEYOND THE IMAGE OF PERFECTNESS AND SUCCESS.

MISHA: I THINK THAT IS EXACERBATED IN THIS MOMENT IN OUR SOCIETY BECAUSE SOCIAL MEDIA, EVERYONE IS ALWAYS SHOWCASING THE MOST PERFECT VERSION OF THEIR WIVES AND FAMILIES.

AND OF COURSE, YOU WERE GOING THROUGH THE JUXTAPOSITION OF THAT PARTICULAR MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE, AND YOU ARE STILL GOING THROUGH THE HARD CHAPTER, APPARENT SUFFERING THROUGH A SICK CHILD AND WHAT YOUR CHILD IS GOING THROUGH IS JUST SO HARD AND SO HEARTBREAKING. AND TO HAVE THAT MOMENT THAT YOU HAVE BEEN WORKING TOWARD YOUR WHOLE LIFE, YOU JUST REACHED THE APEX OF YOUR CAREER, YOU MAY NEVER AGAIN BE AT THE OSCARS, AND ANYONE WHO EVER THINKS THEY ARE GOING TO WIND UP AT THE OSCARS IS DELUSIONAL, IT JUST DOESN'T WIND UP AT THE OSCARS IS DELUSIONAL, IT JUST DOESN'T HAPPEN. AND YET YOU HAVE FOUND YOURSELF THERE AT THIS INCREDIBLE TRIUMPHANT UNLIKELY MOMENT.

DARIUS: I DID ALWAYS KNOW I WOULD BE THERE BUT GO ON.

MISHA: AT THE SAME TIME YOU ARE SUFFERING THROUGH THE MOST EXHAUSTING AND MOST EMOTIONALLY DRAINING THING IMAGINABLE, AND IT WAS ALMOST LIKE A KIND OF CRUEL JOKE FROM THE UNIVERSE, IT SEEMED.

DARIUS: IT WAS THE CRUELEST DICHOTOMY. AND I THINK WHAT WAS IMPORTANT FOR ME AT THAT TIME IS I WAS NAVIGATING A LOT, PRESS, THE OSCARS, I WAS DIRECTING SOMETHING ELSE OF THE TIME, RUNNING BACK AND FORTH AT THE HOSPITAL, SLEEPING ON A HOSPITAL COT, DOING ALL THE STUFF, THAT I NEEDED SOMETHING NEAR ME THAT I UNDERSTOOD, YOU KNOW?

I NEEDED SOMEONE NEAR ME THAT I FELT GROUNDING RIGHT THEN. AND THAT WAS ACTUALLY THE TRUTH OF IT, IS LIKE, YOU ARE THE PERSON ON THE FACE OF THE -- FACE OF THE EARTH THAT I COULD CALL ON AT THAT MOMENT AND I NEEDED IT.

____________

These are some of the moments from the zoom. It was quite emotional as you can tell from the little bit of transcript I'm posting. You can tell how close these two are and how much they have been there for each other over the years, how well they know each other. They have one of those rare life long friendships.

I do wanna say this and I'm not saying it to be rude or anything but I remember there was a cameo that Misha did and he said he was helping a friend with a sick child and the person who bought the cameo got mad cuz their question wasn't answered and they said cruel things about Misha. Well, shame on you.

We may not have had this information at the time but you never assume when someone mentions a sick kid and don't mention how bad it is, it could be nothing or it could be something major like with Darius' kid. Misha could have not done the cameo at all but he did when he had his best friend and his best friends kid on his mind and was worried about. Shame on anyone who said mean things from that cameo. Misha always does the best he can for all of us.

Anyway, I hope we get to see more from these two in the future. They are both amazingly talented individuals.

[animeyanderelover]

I only went with the children in here since I don’t feel comfortable to write about the others.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, stalking, manipulation, threatening, blackmailing, mentions of kidnapping, death

Yandere Zoldyck Hc’s

Milluki Zoldyck

💻Milluki is the possessive Yandere. This guy is greedy and selfish and honestly doesn’t want anyone else even anywhere near his darling, except his family maybe. He’s also on the sadistic side and someone who views his darling overall a bit more as a pet, that means if they act up they will be punished.

💻Milluki is a controlling Yandere, he expects you to behave him. I think this might come from the fact that he himself doesn’t have that much control, being a coward as seen with Killua and might have a bit the feeling that he’s overshadowed. And by being able to control his darling’s actions he feels like he has more control. In some sense he’s even a clingy and lovestruck one. He’s of course touchy, but I mean clingy in the sense that he always demands that you’re in the same room as him so he knows where you are. Lovestruck in the sense that he likes adoring his s/o, dressing them up in cute outfits and just finding them unbelievably cute in their attire.

💻Milluki is more jealous because of his insecurities and his need of being in control. Most of the time his darling and him spent their time in his room and he rarely gets out. But if he does he drags his darling with him and that’s when they need to be careful. Don’t speak to anyone without his approval, don’t even look at anyone without his approval. Or else a “special” treatment awaits you and the other person.

💻Milluki doesn’t kill often, simply because his darling never has that often the chance to make him jealous. That guy rarely leaves the house and prefers to stay in his room. But due to him having the feeling that he isn’t that much in control when it comes to his family and being rather immature he gets angry the moment someone steals his darling’s attention away from him. These people are most likely butlers so he can just punish them like he wants too and they would only obey him. He would torture someone before killing, the last part only involved if the person is a average citizen.

💻Milluki will kidnap his darling the moment he decides he likes them. He’s selfish and if he wants something he’ll get it. And there’s not a big chance that his darling will ever be able to escape on their own given the fact Milluki can track them down without much effort. I also think that his darling might be a butler for the Zoldyck’s, simply because Milluki really doesn’t leave that house so rarely. That or they’re probably some sort of celebrity. He’s into Anime so maybe a Cosplayer?

💻Milluki is a ugly bastard to say the least. He sees you more as a pet or some sort of slave he can dress up however he wants too. You’re for him to punish and adore. This guy is in that sense even a spoiling one since he constantly buys you new outfits you have to wear so he can coo about how cute you look in them. If you pleasure him enough he will even grant you a wish, but if you disobey he’ll discipline you.

Alluka Zoldyck

💝I will never be able to understand how anyone could ever think of her as a monster. Alluka is the delusional and clingy Yandere. Alluka is just a very natural clingy Yandere, loving it when she can give her darling affection and love and loving it even more when her darling returns the attention and affection, she’s needy in that sense. Delusional because she doesn’t realize that her feelings aren’t supposed to be this strong. She just thinks of it as a perfect and wonderful relationship.

💝Alluka is also the lovestruck Yandere. She’s a supportive little baby who will admire and adore whatever her darling does. She also gets quite pouty if other people don’t acknowledge her darling like she does.

💝Alluka is a sucker for her darling’s attention and gets very fast jealous. At first she would brush this irking feeling off, her darling would never leave her, would they? She’ll start comparing herself to the other person, overthinking the situation. What if they did prefer the other person more than her? She’ll become more clingy to her darling, whining about that they shouldn’t spend so much time with the other person.

💝Alluka can’t do much because as soon as someone doesn’t grant her three wishes in a round that person and everyone they spent the most time with die automatically. It isn’t her intention though. If she senses that someone wants to do something bad to her s/o her big brother is always glad to help, not to mention that Nanika is also there.

💝No kidnapping. She is already all the time with her darling, constantly connected to their arm. Alluka thinks as mentioned that the both of you have a perfect relationship so she doesn’t see the troubles. Since her and Killua travel a lot her darling at least gets to do some cool new places.

💝Alluka is a sweetheart and you’re besides her big brother the person she treasures the most. She’s highly affectionate and likes kissing your cheek very much. I can see her as someone who would totally love to do a lot of couple things with you, for example matching bracelets or stuff like this. Since you’re important for her, Killua will be fiercely overprotective over you as well since you make her happy.

Nanika

💕Nanika is a possessive and clingy Yandere. Sharing a body with Alluka makes the possibility that it’s darling is the same as Alluka’s very likely. How couldn’t it be in love with the s/o? They show it and Alluka so much kindness. Just like Alluka it is a clingy Yandere.

💕Nanika is also a lovestruck Yandere. Besides Killua you’re the only person it grants every wish without demanding anything from you. As long as it gets it’s darling’s love and praises it is happy.

💕Nanika is new to the concept and would at first not even understand what this feeling is that is cursing through it’s veins. It observes the situation at first. But something about this person makes it mad. Why is the darling so close to them? Why doesn’t the other person know who they belong to?

💕Nanika is new to the theme obsession and especially jealousy is new for it. It is greatly irked up whenever someone else is near the s/o. It will go up to the point where it wants to teach the other person a lesson for being close to it’s darling.

💕Since Nanika and Alluka share a body the story would be the same as with Alluka. Nanika’s way of kidnapping can be considered as it clinging onto it’s darling.

💕Nanika is from everyone so misunderstood. Besides Killua and Alluka you’re the only person that seems to like it genuinely and for that it loves you and is possessive. You’re always so kind to it. Nanika just wants you to forever be with it, Alluka and Killua.

[jpegjade]

Take Care - Spencer

diana has made an appearance for something! i have rewritten this 3 times and i feel like this time is the one. 

Request: I’ve never seen this story anywhere written but like Spencer x reader where the reader is a caretaker of Diana’s and Diana is always talking about Reid and reading y/n the letters he sends and Diana always talks about how good spencer + the reader would be together and then they meet and fall in love ugh 🥺

Warnings: none that i can think of. 

_______________________

“You look bright today, Diana.” You said, bringing her mail for the day. 

“I’m getting a letter from Spencer today.” She said, opening the letter for the day. 

“Yeah, that’s great!” You said, handing out the other residents letters from their loved ones. 

Diana was the only one who got something everyday because her son was some kind of big shot fbi guy, according to her, so he was able to tell her all this cool stuff. She reads the letters to you very formally, as you were letting her believe she was still a professor and she was just holding office hours. That always made her happy, when you played into the delusion. You weren’t on her detailed staff so you didn’t know everything but you knew enough. 

One day, a letter came in the mail, addressed to you. Your relatives didn’t write letters so you didn’t know who it could be from until you opened it. 

“Dear y/n, 

My name is Spencer Reid. I am Diana Reid’s son. I assume she has told you about me as she mentions how cute you and I would be together when I actually have the chance to talk to her on rare occasions. She speaks highly of your service to her. I wanted to thank you for that. I can not do so in person at the moment but I figured a letter is a personal way to thank someone for their service.

Sincerely, 

Spencer W. Reid”

Standing in the lobby, you read the letter a couple of times. What in the world? Why would he thank you? Why you? You must not have been special. He must have hand written a letter to all of the people who help his mom. But… You’re the one person who hangs out with his mom and isn’t on the official staff list assigned to her. You were obviously perplexed but you figured that you should write one back. 

You got out a piece of paper and started writing. Then scratching out. Then writing again. Then scratching out again. Finally, you got something solid and closed the envelope, dropping it in the building’s outgoing mailbox. 

You pushed it to the back of your mind and moved on with your day. You couldn’t wait to hear about Spencer’s “adventures,” as Diana calls them. Sure, they weren’t the most interesting things but he told her secrets that no one else knew. It was like you were in on something special without prying. 

Diana read you her letter and then you got her up and moving for lunch. After that, your morning shift was over and it was time for you to return home. You bid Diana goodbye for the day, although she wasn’t going to recognize that you were leaving. She had been in a weird space lately so it was harder for her to really know what was happening. 

Life went on, going through the motions of bringing Diana her mail of the day for a few days in a row. As suspected, she was the only one with mail today until you saw your name in the same handwriting as the last one. As you rushed to open it, something fell out. A piece of paper labeled, “read me to diana.” 

“Dear y/n, 

Yes, I am an FBI profiler with the Behavioral Analysis Unit (or BAU). Yes, I know you aren’t in my mother’s healthcare worker detail but I also know that you spend time with her every day. I may not see my mother but I might stop by every now and then to check in on her, even if she doesn’t know I’m there. And if she doesn’t know, you don’t know. But I know you. I know you were nervous to write to me, your handwriting was shaky and wouldn’t stay on a line. The way you gripped the pen was probably tighter than normal. You slant down, meaning something is weighing on you, but not low enough that you aren’t on a relatively straight line. I suspect you’re a little younger than me, based on the way you dot your i’s and cross your double t’s. It suggests that you still believe in impossible things. And of course, you’re curious because you asked me to profile your handwriting. I’ve also seen you before so I know we’re about the same age and yes, you are very cute. My mother is a schizophrenic but she’s not completely delusional. 

How did the letter reading go? 

Sincerely, 

Spencer W. Reid”

How had you never seen him? How did you never see him, as long as his mother has been here. Maybe you did see him but he was unremarkable? Diana was hardly unremarkable so her son must be of similar construct, right? 

You thought about this before you wrote him back. It was a quick message, nothing too intricate. You were a little bit more careful about how you held the pen, since he knew you were nervous last time. You wrote to him about how the letter reading went: she loved the poem. You guessed that Spencer would know that but sent it anyway to make her happy. But that still doesn’t answer the question, “why you?” 

Another few days passed but you couldn’t stop thinking of Spencer. You tried looking him up on the internet and found out he was just as brilliant as his mother. That was a plus. Negative was he was not on any social media unless it was an article about him. Eventually you gave up and just went back to trying to imagine him in your head. Was he tall? Was he short? What did he like to do in his free time? He has seen you but you haven’t seen him… That wasn’t fair. 

When you opened his next letter, you were sitting outside in the grass, across from Diana sitting on the bench. She was having a particularly tough day so she wasn’t up to reading you her letter. You told her you would still keep her company until your shift ended and she seemed to like that. 

“Dear y/n, 

You ask a lot of questions. Are you sure you’re not profiling me? And yes, I have witnessed your connection with my mother before but you wouldn’t recognize me in a crowd. I’m average, nothing special. You care for her in a way I never could… That’s why I wrote to you. I’ll see you on Friday.

Sincerely, 

Spencer W. Reid”

You didn’t think about how you interacted with Diana that made a difference. You just thought about why Spencer would want to talk to you… He said Friday. Which was today. Today was Friday… He could be anywhere! You had to find him and get some questions answered up close. 

You looked for anyone who might look remotely like Diana, frantically searching while looking nonchalant. Of course, he knows what you look like so you can’t seem desperate and like you’ve lost it. You also didn’t want to worry any of the residents. 

“Excuse me.” You said, trying to get past a guy who was standing in the doorway. He turned slightly and looked at you. He had a sad smile on his face and his hands in his pockets. He looked like someone who didn’t fit into the sea of people visiting their family members. Fridays were busier than the rest of the week so he could be anyone but you had a hunch by the way the guy was staring in the direction where Diana was sitting. 

“Spencer W. Reid?” You said, watching the sad smile get a little bigger. 

“You figured me out? How did you do it?” He said, scooting over so he wasn’t standing directly next to you. 

You didn’t take that as an offensive action. His mom did the same thing. They both had a thing about people touching them. 

“You were standoff-ish. And you’re dressed like you’re important.” You said, confidently. 

You had been googling what a profiler was and how to do it since the second letter. You thought it was the coolest job in the world but you liked where you were at, caring for people close to home. 

“So you profiled me.” Spencer turned towards you a little more.

“Yes, Dr. Reid, I did.” You triumphantly put your hands on your hips. 

“I never told you I was a doctor.” He said, knowing your nonchalant facade was going to fall apart that minute. 

“Well… Okay, I googled you.” You sighed. 

“The internet has its uses... “ He said, looking over at his mom again. 

He looked like he was getting cold feet of some sort. You saw him moving a little bit more and his eyes becoming a little flighty. 

“Do you want to step outside, into the lobby?” You asked, to which he nodded. He almost looked relieved not to be forced to go over there. 

“You don’t have to go over there. I don’t have to tell her you were here.” You said, sitting on the opposite side of the lobby bench to you. 

“No, she should know I came for her birthday.” He said, looking down at his hands. 

It wasn’t very often that the visitors got anything special on their birthdays. Unless their family did something within set guidelines, there was no celebration that happened here because it could set off one of the other residents in the facility. 

“That’s sweet. She would enjoy that.” You said smiling a little bit. 

“She’ll get her wish.” He said, wanting to chuckle. 

“And what’s that?” You wondered what he could possibly be talking about. 

“Seeing us together. I mentioned it in a letter previously, that she occasionally mentions that you and I would look cute together.” He said, finally looking up at you. 

“Oh, yeah. She has said that I needed to meet you once or twice before. We talk about you a lot. I feel like I know you.” You said, breaking eye contact. You were embarrassed that you told him that you talk about him when this is the first time you’ve ever met him. 

“Well, I don’t know much about you.” He paused. “Do you think you would want to tell me more?” 

“Oh well sure. Where do you want to start? My whole backstory is wild.” You looked up at him. 

It took a second for you to recognize what he was saying. 

“oh , you mean. Yes, that would be fun.” You said, attempting to remain calm. You just scored yourself a date and you didn’t do anything but write letters. Maybe you should be a pen-pal more often.

[ka-za-ri]

Prize Pt. 3 (Finale)

Ahoy! The last part of this commission is here! It was so hard to try and fit everything my client wanted into the fic overall, so I’m sorry if it might feel a little off. I did my best to give y’all a good end product! ｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Pairing: Satan x Reader Genre: Smut Wordcount: 3,700 ish   Tags: Soft smut, fluffy stuff, confessions, Summary: The cards are all on the table and the game is revealed. An uncertain future is discussed and feelings are confessed.

Victory

The months following that fateful day you spent with Satan passed without much commotion. In fact, it felt as though the attempts at usurping your time had diminished since then. It was easy to fool yourself into thinking that they had simply gotten tired of the game they played. It was easier to believe they were all busy with the sudden influx of papers and projects that needed to be completed for classes or that they had other pressing matters to attend.

You didn’t think much of the fatigue or the nausea, chalking it up to having to pull multiple all-nighters in order to get things done on time. The changes in your sleep schedule were easily explained by your terrible habits; and the cravings you had for food you rarely even thought about could just be another symptom of your delusional state as you crammed as much information about Demonic History, Sociology and Sigil Writing as you could within the time allotted to you.

It wasn’t until you missed your monthly cycle more than once that you realized something was distinctly different. From the way the brothers treated you to your mood swings and the tenderness your body felt, it all started to click together. You waited another week, just in case the stress was causing you to be late, but when nothing came of it, you realized that there were certain things you needed to discuss.

“Can we study in your room?” you asked, veering from the usual path to the library and closer to the dorms. “There’s uh…some things I kinda want to discuss, but preferably not in public.”

Satan raised a brow at your request but said nothing, leading you to his room and quietly shutting the door behind him once you were safely within. You sat on his bed, staring mostly at the floor though your gaze flicked up to meet his eyes from time to time. The words you had to say were just at the tip of your tongue, but actually getting them out was going to be the hardest part.

“So, uhm…we need to talk,” you started.

“Yes, that much has been established already,” your demeanor concerned him to say the least. He pulled a chair over to sit across from you, “So, let’s talk.”

“There really isn’t a good way to say this...” you grimaced, already imagining the various tragic outcomes of what you were going to tell him, “but uh…I haven’t had my period this month.”

He blinked, processing what you were telling him. There was an unending awkward silence between the two of you that practically drove you mad. After several excruciating moments of stillness, Satan let out a deep sigh. You couldn’t interpret the meaning of his reaction and waited with bated breath for his reply.

“Is…Is that so. Is this the first time you’ve ah…missed it?” he struggled to understand your human anatomy. “Is this normal?”

“No, It’s not normal…it’s close to the second month I haven’t had it. I’m. I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.”

He blinked slowly and exhaled deeply through his nose when he heard the news. It was impossible to read his expressions. His face remained impassive for a time before he broke out into a small smile, but that was quickly dashed away and replaced once again with concern. “I…See…Well, I suppose we do need to talk...”

It was your turn to be surprised. “What do you mean?”

Satan leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap and contemplated what he was about to tell you. Things were bound to reach this point anyway, but he was still nervous. He needed to deliver the information to you in the most matter of fact fashion, yet his voice still wavered a bit. “So, you know how you were told that you’re here in an exchange program to strengthen bonds between the realms?”

“Yes...”

“Well, Diavolo was pretty serious about the strengthening bonds and relationships part.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow very well.”

Satan sighed, hating to have to go into a long lecture, but it was the only way for you to properly understand the game they had played ever since you arrived. “To be blunt, Diavolo believes that the demon population is dwindling at an unacceptable rate. In an effort to bolster the population numbers, he started this exchange program as a trial run and requested that denizens of the House of Lamentation assist in his ah…competition to, you know….” he trailed off, not sure how to further explain things.

Ah, there it was. There wasn’t a need for Satan to continue. You had suspected something from the very start, just having your suspicions confirmed laid your doubts to rest. Your gut instincts had been correct, and all the effort you put into spending time with the man in front of you had paid off. It was a winning scenario for all parties. Diavolo’s trial was a success; and you were with someone that you chose to be with, so long as the child was his.

“I see...” you nodded. “Now everything makes sense...”

“I’m, well, I guess I should apologize for all of us, we’re sorry that we didn’t tell you. Rules and everything kept us from saying anything.”

You giggled, “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. I had an idea of what was going on pretty early.”

“You…you did?” Satan looked at you incredulously. He had thought he kept his end of the deal pretty well. He couldn’t speak for his brothers, but he knew for a fact that he hadn’t said anything incriminating nor did he do anything that felt obviously related to the competition.

“None of you are very good at hiding your intentions,” you shrugged, brushing his shock to the side and moving onto more pressing matters that you wanted to discuss. “How…how would you feel if you were the father of this child?”

“Me​?” He could hardly believe his ears. He had played the game on the loosest terms, only interacting with you when he had to. The one time he did bed you, it had been in the heat of the moment and when he wasn’t completely himself. “As flattered as I am to hear this, I don’t know if I would be the best candidate for the father.” Even if he was completely elated at the idea, there was no confirmation that the child was his yet he couldn’t bring himself to celebrate his victory just yet. The child could belong to any one of his brothers. 

“What if I want you to be the father?” you beckoned him to sit next to you on the bed, guiding his hand to your abdomen and letting him feel the life that was growing there. From there, it only took a little bit of magic to figure out if your suspicions were true. Unfurling a small tendril of magic to assess who the child might belong to. As soon as his magic made contact with the energy within you, there was no doubt in his mind it belonged to him.

“How’d you know?” 

You smiled sweetly at him. “Well, let’s just say that out of all the times I’ve been with a demon, you were the only one who I let close when I was the most fertile.”

“Really? You chose me? Out of everyone else?” Realization dawned on his face when he realized you had actually played the rest of them at their own game. His face flushed with a mixture of excitement and bashfulness. He always knew he had the same chance as his brothers to win, however hearing that he had been chosen to win made his victory all the sweeter. He embraced you, tightly holding you against him and laid you down to cuddle in celebration. Satan won. Asmodeus had been first, the others had been more vocal and forward; but he was the victor in the end. It was a fact he struggled to grasp but having felt the life growing within you only confirmed it and it felt incredible.

“Yes, you,” you giggled at how incredulous he sounded. Kissing him softly on the forehead, you brushed his hair away from his eyes. “I’m glad it’s you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Satan heaved a heavy sigh of relief, the weight of guilt from hiding the competition away from you had stressed him to the point where he couldn’t sleep for many nights. Though the others had followed Diavolos orders and pursued you, he chose to let you come to him. It was a risk, but one that paid off in the end. Hearing that it was what you wanted warmed his heart, and he held onto you tightly in that relief.

The two of you laid mostly in silence together, every now and then murmuring a soft affirmation of your adoration for each other. Other than that, it was a simple, comfortable quiet you had grown accustomed to and cherished with him. You didn’t need to exchange words. Just enjoying his company was enough to have you feel satisfied and loved.

He still couldn’t get over the fact that even if none of the brothers had overtly said anything about the competition, you had been able to piece everything together on your own. There was an undeniable sexiness about how you had all of them eating out of the palm of your hand. To know that out of all his brothers, he was chosen gave him a rather smug sense of pride he couldn’t quite describe. It was easier to just show you his affection and his relief.

What was supposed to be an innocent study date turned into a serious conversation. In turn, that turned into a cuddling session once things were discussed and revealed. Everything being out in the open and on the table released so much of the tension you had been holding onto for so long that you found yourself quickly falling into a doze in Satan’s arms. His words earlier had given you so much reassurance that things would be alright. With the worst of your worries alleviated, you felt like you could properly rest for the first time in weeks.

Though, it seemed as if Satan had other ideas.

With the others out doing errands or going to meetings, it meant the whole dorm was empty; and he could be as vocal as he wanted to be when he was around you. Satan’s legs were tangled with your own, making it easy for him to roll his hips to you and let you feel just what you did to him by being close. His cock already half hard poked at your backside, and you let out a soft giggle as you were roused from your half-asleep state. “Really? This is all you can think about? Can’t we just have a cute cuddling moment here?”

“Well, how often do we get the whole place to ourselves? We can be as loud as we want and no one is here to judge.”

“Okay, well, when you put it that way, how can I resist.”

He wrapped his arms protectively over your abdomen pulling you flush against him as he peppered your neck with soft kisses. The dark mark he left weeks ago had long faded, but he wasn’t adverse to making a few more. You were now his after all. There was so much uncertainty about your future, but it would be fine as long as he was with you. Just the knowledge that he was willing to walk down that unpredictable path with you put you at ease. You sighed in content, melting into his embrace. Satan’s hands wandered away from your belly, trailing up to squeeze your tender breasts. You gasped, arching your back and inadvertently pressing your backside against the growing hardness in his pants.

He let out a soft laugh, loving how receptive your body was to all his touches. It was as if the two of you were meant to be. He wasn’t a superstitious man, but Satan couldn’t help but think meeting you was some stroke of destiny. To have you to himself like this only seemed to cement that notion in his mind.

His hips rocking into your backside became more incessant the more his need for you grew. Though it wasn’t as intense as it had been the last time, there was still an innate desire to mate with you. The kisses on your neck trailed lower to your collar bones. Satan’s hand moved from your breasts to snake under your top, easily peeling it off of you in one swift motion to reveal more skin for him to lavish with attention.

He wanted to do it properly this time, kiss you for hours on end and show you just how much he adored you. Spending so much time with you on the regular had only deepened his affections for you, and he wanted to show you that what he felt was beyond his base instincts. He had feelings past the need to claim and mate with you. He had thousands of years to temper himself into something more than a raging ball of impulse.

His hands returned to your breasts. He teased you through the fabric of your bra; and with every moan that came from your lips, you swore you could feel him grow harder. Satan’s breath felt so hot against your skin. Every kiss seemed to brand you with a heat that spread across your body before pooling between your legs. You groaned, struggling to free yourself from his grasp, but his legs around yours and his hands on your breasts kept you in place.

He made up for all the roughness last time with the sweetest kisses at your jawline and on the shell of your ear. Your nipples strained against the fabric of your bra as he continued to grope and play with your breasts until you were gasping his name, “Please… let me touch you too.”

Satan complied, if only so he could now see your face. As soon as you turned over, you pulled him into a deep kiss full of passion and lots of tongue. He hummed in approval of your enthusiasm, holding you flush against his chest. His hands wandered lower and played at the waistband of your bottoms for a brief moment while you kissed before they slid lower to rest at the swell of your ass. You were forced to break away when he abruptly gave your ass a firm squeeze. Chuckling at your surprised squeak as a result, he redoubled his efforts to work your bottoms off of you.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he poorly explained with a slight shrug.

In retaliation, your hand snaked between the two of you and fondled at the growing bulge in his pants. He let out a soft moan of appreciation once his crotch got more friction, and his hips instinctively moved to meet your touch. Satan wasn’t holding back on being vocal in his appreciation for you. With no one around to judge him, he was more than happy to let you know exactly how he felt about you. “Beautiful. Just beautiful,” he breathed in between the kisses you shared.

He maneuvered you to straddle him. In doing so, he found that he had the best view of you in this new position. With one hand firmly on your hip to keep you from going anywhere, his other hand was free to wander and explore your body as he wished. It only served to heighten his arousal as your clothed heat was constantly grinding against his hardening cock.

It was unfair how many clothes he managed to keep on when you were half naked on top of him. While his hand squeezed your breast and teased your nipple, you focused your concentration on evening the playing field. It was no easy task as every piece of clothing you managed to get off of him was reciprocated with a playful pinch of your nipple which only broke your focus. “Stop that,” you grumbled, swatting his hand away from you as you finally got the last layer of his uniform off of him.

“Stop what? Admiring you? Cherishing you? Treasuring you?” His fingers trailed lower to caress your belly. “That’s going to be hard to do.” There was nothing but love in his eyes as he came to terms with what the future with you would bring.

Hearing those words come from him made your heart flutter. The pressure of his bulge against your clothed heat also added to the emotions roiling through you. You wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go. His hands reached once again for the waistband of your bottoms, carefully unwrapping you like a present. You were only allowed to move off of him just so he could shuck both your bottoms and your panties in one go.

Once again, you found yourself with significantly less clothing than he did. “Not fair,” you grumbled.

“Oh? Shall we even the playing field once again?” he suggested. Satan allowed you to shift off him just enough for him to navigate your hands to his pants. Your hands brushed across his abs in that motion, causing him to shiver before they started to undo the buttons and zipper to his pants. He watched your every movement, entranced at how you looked when you were concentrating. Heat simmered in his eyes, the hunger in them ever growing the more clothing you took off of him.

You decided to leave his boxers on for the time being. The power had swung in your favor this time, and you gently palmed him through the flimsy fabric. The simple action had him shivering and gasping underneath you. It was a sound you could easily get addicted to. You gave yourself the freedom to tease him a bit more, stroking his length through his boxers until he called out your name and begged for you to do more than just touch him with your hand.

“You’re beautiful,” you echoed his earlier sentiments, finally divesting him of his last garment and tossing it carelessly into the corner of his room. “Absolutely beautiful,” you breathed, crawling back on top of him and kissing him deeply. His hands flew to your hips, positioning himself to enter you. As soon as the kiss broke, he slid into you with one fluid motion.

“Fuck,” Satan hissed, his eyelids fluttering. It had been good the first time, but the energy was so different now. He had every desire to draw the moment with you out, show you just how much he cared; but as soon as he was inside, the innate need to mate and breed with you caused a haze to settle over his mind. He wanted to savor the softness while it lasted, and he strained to take even slow strokes in you.

However, seeing you on top of him, so pretty and moaning as his cock took its first few passes, broke what little control he had over his desires. He thrust into you with his hands holding you firmly in place. Everything about you was absolutely divine in his eyes. Even if heaven was locked away from him for eternity, he could at least imagine what it would be like when he was with you like this. Time didn’t matter. The competition and expectations of what was to come of your child were no longer a factor in those blissful moments.

Satan loved seeing you like this, face flushed and eyes lidded in pleasure as both of you chased your releases. He liked knowing when it was all over, you would be falling into his arms and no one else’s. It made him feel as if he could catch you from anything that happened. You were his, and that fact alone drove him into a possessive frenzy. He let his trusts run deeper, harder into you. With every breathy sigh and every moan he came closer to his climax. He could tell you were close with how your head lolled back and how vocal you had become.

“Fuck, Satan…I love you,” you whined in a moment of reckless abandon before you felt your orgasm wash over you in waves. Your vision blurred for a moment as your senses were overwhelmed with your climax.

Your words sent him over the edge. Satan’s heart soared hearing your proclamation, barely believing that you had said it at all. He gasped at the suddenness of his release. Pulling your hips down flush to his, he released his load deep within you, groaning as his balls twitched in the aftermath of such a climax. He had wanted to prolong the experience of being one with you as long as he could, but it was over all too soon.

Gently cradling you and bringing you down from your perch on top of him, Satan let you rest on top of his chest, not wanting to depart from your warm caverns just yet. His instincts also screamed to keep you filled, making sure sure that none of his seed went to waste, even if he had already impregnated you already.

“Say it again,” he murmured, stroking your hair idly as the endorphins sedated him.

“Say what again? I love you?”

“Yes. Again.”

“Okay, okay. I love you,” you admitted, blushing a bit at how often he was making you say it.

“Good. I like knowing that my love wasn’t misplaced.” His fingers in your hair trailed down to rest at your lower back, and he could feel himself drifting out of consciousness. There were too many things he still wanted to talk to you about, but the two of you had all the time in the world to figure things out together.

He hummed an old, soothing tune as he let his thoughts wander. There was still so much for you to learn about the Devildom. A visit to Diavolo would be in order as soon as possible as discussions on matters pertaining to your child were needed. Then, you would most likely need to be put on an accelerated course to make certain you know the ins and outs of Devildom customs and cultures to ensure that your child would grow up in a proper environment. He thought of the ways he could support you, outside of the obvious help in your studies. There was also the concern of the child being born from such a unique lineage. Surely there would be growing pains associated with that as well…

“Satan?” your sweet voice broke him away from his train of thought.

“Yes?”

“You’re stressed out,” you stated plainly. “Your whole body is all tense. Whatever you’re worrying about can wait, right?”

“Yes, my love,” he agreed, pulling the covers over the both of you. Whatever worries he had about the future didn’t feel so daunting, so long as you were with him.

[lispectore]

yeah i agree in general there are a lot more reasonable takes here than on twitter. like personally genuine irl shipping (like.. actually believing they are together or even fanart/fics) makes me cringe for some reason even though i respect ppl’s art and know they don’t care and i don’t have a problem with most shippers. however the way dnf act /is/ funny and weird and i like their dynamic, so it’s much easier for me to get people talking about that reasonably (whether they ship it or not!) on this site which is why i’m here. the only thing that makes me uncomfortable on here are like very detailed analyses that can come across as kinda delusional and obsessed (like in a larry way where people believe he has a fake child or whatever lmao) but those are pretty rare.

on twitter, i feel like there’s a small amount of people who are hardcore shippers, some of who are very nsfw. again, i get dnf are okay with it, but also in every example dream has given for nsfw stuff it was that he thought it was weird to complain about because you would have to go looking for it to find it, which i feel like isn’t the case now that people are doing that out in the open on a site they interact with. the rest of twitter imo are largely /j shippers who get away with saying weird, unfunny, and out of pocket stuff directed at them by adding a /j (ie “george is a bottom!!!1 /j”) i feel like they’re in denial about being irl shippers or something and have a little bit of a parasocial relationship which leads to them being weird about boundaries because they think they’re just joking with their friends or something. i’ve also seen people cite their friends making jokes about dnf as reasons why they should also be able to reply with these jokes to them, but the underlying difference is like you guys are not their friends and i highly doubt any of their friends actually think they’re together or interested in each other lol.

i’m not trying to draw their boundaries for them (also like george literally bait posted yesterday he kissed dream so lmao) but as a bystander it’s weird and tbh cringey to me to see people replying to every tweet with weird shit that even as a joke is overdone and unfunny lol. sorry this got kinda out of hand it’s just i started on twitter and now can’t interact with it because of the weirdness i get such bad second hand embarassment even tho i know a lot of these people are kids. imo twitter just sucks as a platform for fandom stuff that i feel like should be separate from the ccs. sorry if this is too much or unwanted but here is my perspective as someone who is uncomfortable with irl shipping

always feel free to share your opinions with me as long as you’re being respectful! i don’t mind talking about such things. :]

imo i don’t think shipping is that much of a big deal, like i’ve been part of fandoms since 2011? to give you an idea, i used to read fics on livejournal, so i’ve seen the worst of the worst, i’ve literally been kissed by the fires of hell, and now everything that i’ve seen so far is pretty mild, especially here, i’ve never really encountered nsfw fanart or fics thrown around on twitter (these are usually on ao3 which i consider to be okay since cc’s are not lurking there like they’re on twitter). 

luckily, people got educated and learned how to ship irl people in a healthy way. 

the first time i encountered such gate keeping against shippers was here. i was so surprised it was almost a cultural shock to me, but i think that this amount of gatekeeping comes from the fear of what has happened to other celebrities/ccs that got shipped; and also, dream and george are very active on twitter and they know everything that goes on the fandom. 

which i agree that there are things that should be kept hidden from them, like fanfics - which didn’t work out that well since george ended up reading heat waves anyway, but he found it because people were always talking about it and disrespecting the author’s wish. (and i can’t tell you how happy i am that they didn’t react like assholes about it, and dream even dm’ed the author talking about how much of a good author she is) 

it’s weird for me because i’m part of a fandom that is twice (or even bigger) than the size of mcyt, and they’re pretty chill (of course you have the bad apples as always), but the community for mcyt on twitter is on another level of shitty. i almost gave up on keeping up with george and dream because of them, they have a cult like mentality where they think they are famous celebrities or something just because they’ve been on the fandom for a long time, which actually means nothing lol and i do agree with you that most of twt that is like “george kisses dream /j” is actually someone that ships them but doesn’t want to admit it because they’re afraid people will make fun of them, but the thing is if you’re old enough and you know how to respect content creators as human beings, you can ship them and continue to do your own stuff without it becoming something weird.

[pocket-luv101]

Summary: Kuro and Licht starts a band called Checkmate with Mahiru as their songwriter. (KuroMahi/LawLicht, Band AU)

(Part 1-KuroMahi) // Part 2-LawLicht

“Thanks for giving me this backstage pass, Nii-san. It would’ve been better if you’d let me do an article about your idol group forming but this is still good.” Hyde lightly probed his brother but Kuro grunted in answer. The rejection was clear though. “Checkmate has never sat down for an interview before. If I can write an article with quotes from your band, it will help my career! A few pictures would be great too.”

“You’re my brother and I want to help you but Checkmate is more than just me. That delusional angel I sing with hates interviews and reporters. Mahiru will be mad at me if I accepted an interview without talking to him and Licht first.” Kuro had explained why he couldn’t have an interview with him several times already.

He still wanted to help his brother so he gave him the backstage pass to the charity event they were holding with a few other bands. “There will be other idol groups playing so you can corner one of them for an interview.”

“None of them will be as good though.” Hyde muttered and crossed his arms. A year ago, his brother started an idol group and they called themselves Checkmate. Their family was surprised when he told them about his decision. Kuro had never showed any interest in music or fame before. Even after Checkmate gained popularity, he rarely interacted with fans or the press. Hyde spoke his thoughts out loud. “Why did you decide to become a singer?”

His answer came running down the hall and calling his name.

“Kuro!” Mahiru stopped in front of them. He was out of breath and Kuro wondered how long he had been searching for him. He gripped his arm and started to drag him down the hall. “There was a mix up with your costume and we have to do some adjustments. Licht is waiting in the dressing room already and—Oh, hello, Hyde. Are you here to watch your brother perform?”

“I’m looking forward to hearing him sing but I’m here for work.” He told him and held up his reporter’s badge. “Reporting on these events seem to be the only time I get to talk with my brother. I’m happy that he has gotten famous but he has been busy since you three created Checkmate.”

“Kuro has been working hard for the band but his family is still very important to him.” Mahiru was quick to defend Kuro and reassure Hyde. In the corner of his eyes, Kuro noticed the sly grin his brother had. They were childhood friends with Mahiru so they both knew how compassionate he was. Kuro realized that his brother intended to trick Mahiru into letting him interview the idols group.

“Hyde.” He said as a warning. Kuro didn’t want his brother to take advantage of Mahiru’s kindness.

“I have an idea. Would you like to come with us? You can talk with Kuro while I sew a few things onto his costume. I’m sure Licht won’t mind if you come into the dressing room with us.” Mahiru suggested. “The band was invited to a dinner with the manager of the event but I can find a way for you to skip. That will give you two free time to hang out.”

“Didn’t we hire Kranz to be our manager so you would have less work, Mahiru? Have him talk to the event organizers and come to dinner with us.” Kuro admired Mahiru’s work ethic but he didn’t want him to overwork himself. He worked as their assistant but he was truly the writer of Checkmate’s songs. Mahiru preferred to be anonymous and keep his life simple.

“It would be nice to eat and catch up. Hopefully, we can find a place where no one will recognize Kuro and mob him.” Mahiru joked as they walked into the dressing room. He glanced around the room and frowned slightly. “Where did Licht go? His costume is finished but I told him to wait here so we can go through the routine once.”

“Maybe he stepped out.” Kuro shrugged. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Hyde make a disappointed expression. He didn’t know why he would be disappointed since he wasn’t close with Licht nor did he know him. He brushed off the thoughts and decided not to pry into his brother’s life.

“I’m going to text him. Here’s your costume, Kuro. Hurry up and get changed so we can get you ready for the stage.” Mahiru handed him the black costume and lightly pushed him behind the changing screen. As they waited for him to finish, he sat in front of the vanity and organized the makeup. Kuro was an attractive man so Mahiru didn’t think he needed to wear makeup.

“You’re a reporter now, Hyde?” Mahiru phased it as a question even though he already knew the answer. “I read an article you did on the idol contest. You didn’t give your own opinion on the results. Is there an idol or group that you enjoy?”

“It’s kinda lame.” Hyde evaded his question. “There are a lot of groups and bands here so I might like one of them. Checkmate is the main event, I hear.”

“Kuro and Licht shine on stage and their passion always show.” Mahiru said proudly. He helped create the band when they were teenagers and he had seen how hard the two worked. He recalled the long nights he would stay up with Licht to make songs as Kuro sketched costumes. While Kuro could appear lazy, he knew how determined he would be once he found something or someone he loved.

Kuro stepped out from behind the changing screen. “I’m finished. What do you think?”

“Nice and simple.” Mahiru had seen him wear many costumes for different performances but he would never stop feeling his heart skip with each one. He carefully placed lipstick on his lips and then walked to Kuro. He stood on his toes and pressed his lips onto Kuro’s cheek to create a kiss mark as part of his costume. As Mahiru pulled back, Kuro leaned forward to steal a quick kiss.

“Kuro, you can’t do that in front of your brother!” Mahiru blushed. He reached up and gently wiped the lipstick from Kuro’s lips caused by the quick kiss. He tried to hide how his kiss affected him and lightly pushed him into a chair. “Sit down so I can tie up your hair. Be careful to not smudge that lipstick mark. I don’t want a repeat of last week where I had to re-apply it five times.”

Hyde watch Mahiru brush his brother’s hair and a thought came to him. “That lipstick mark is incorporated in most of your costumes. Is that how you usually make the mark?”

“We had stamps made for Kuro and Licht so they can put the lipstick mark on themselves easily. Kuro keeps losing his stamp though. No matter how many times I lecture him on being organize, he’ll misplace it somewhere. Thinking simply, it’ll be easier for me to make the kiss mark like this rather than buy new stamps.” Mahiru told him.

He didn’t notice the small grin Kuro wore but Hyde did. He very much doubted that his brother lost the stamps on accident. His suspicion was confirmed when Kuro touched the kiss mark and said: “Oops, it got smudge. Can you fix it for me?”

“I’ll borrow your catchphrase and say: troublesome.” Mahiru rolled his eyes but then he giggled softly. He wiped the lipstick from his cheek before he kissed him again. He couldn’t pretend to be irritated for long and smiled. “I don’t mind doing this since we’re dating but don’t get too greedy, Kuro.”

“You two haven’t changed.” Hyde rolled his eyes and slipped out of the room to give them privacy. He was happy that his brother was in a loving relationship but he didn’t want to watch them flirt with each other. There was only so long he could listen to their corny lines before he developed a cavity. He started to close the door but then he paused when a hand wrapped around him over the doorknob. Beside him, sharp blue eyes stared back at him. He forced him to close the door and let go of his hand.

Licht glared at the man he thought was spying on his friends. His eyes fell onto the reporter badge around his neck and roughly shoved him away from the dressing room. Hyde was too shocked by the man’s sudden appearance for him to quickly regain his balance. He fell back against the wall and Licht slammed his hand next to him. “What are you doing spying on people? This is why I hate reporters.”

Hyde stumbled over his words to make a proper reply but he was starstruck. He never told his brother but he was a big fan of Checkmate. At first, he merely bought their CDs to support his brother but quickly became entranced by their songs. A large reason he enjoyed their music was Licht and his angelic voice. He reported on many celebrities and he knew someone with Licht’s talent was rare.

He could still remember the first time he heard him sing. Before they formed the group, they would write songs in Kuro’s room. He overheard them and thought he heard the voice of an angel. Hyde was too nervous to talk to him when he was a teenager.

Hyde’s silence irritated Licht. The way he wouldn’t meet his eyes made him think that he was guilty of spying on Kuro and Mahiru for a gossip story. Mahiru was his best friend and he hoped to start an idol group with him. Mahiru told him that he didn’t want to be in the spotlight and Licht respected that. With that thought, he wouldn’t allow a reporter to make an article about his friend.

“Reporters like you have no respect for people’s privacy. Don’t you dare publish anything about Mahiru.” Licht ordered. He grabbed his collar and forced Hyde to meet his eyes. “Don’t think I’ll hesitate to punish you because of Checkmate’s public image. If you make Kuro and Mahiru’s relationship public, I will take your camera and shove it—”

The door opened beside them and Mahiru peered out of the room. “There you are Licht. What are you doing to Kuro’s brother? Let him go right now!”

“Brother?” He knew that Mahiru wouldn’t lie to him and looked back to the man’s reporter badge. Licht found that the man had the same last name as Kuro. He realized that the man was likely only visiting his brother. He stepped back and muttered, “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” Hyde could see that Licht was sincerely sorry for his assumption and action.

“We’ll talk about this later but we need to get ready for the charity event. Checkmate is going on stage in twenty minutes.” Mahiru took Licht’s arm and pulled him into the room. He waved to Hyde and said, “You can come in and talk as long as you leave your reporter badge on the table.”

[pinkatchristmas]

*tw* theories on psychosis, trauma, and the disrupted assumptive world

Psychosis: a severe mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that contact is lost with external reality. (Oxford Dictionary)

From around November 2018 to June 2019 I experienced what psychologists call “psychosis”, a symptom of a plethora of disorders that often goes untreated if it cannot be healed through medication. This was a significantly horrible period of my life that I rarely discuss with anyone or disclose to anyone that I had, due to the immense stigma in our society surrounding it.

Psychosis is, at it’s core, a divergence from reality, cultivated by the mind in a manner that is abrupt, disgusting, and inevitable to those who suffer from it. While some people have general schizophrenia, and possibly experience psychosis on a daily basis, and while I did for almost a year, I can’t really explain what it’s like without considering some theories I have regarding what might cause it.

Immense emotional stress

Genetics

Trauma that cannot be reconciled by the mind in accordance with the sufferer’s assumptive world

I believe that all three of these factors are what results in one losing their mind. For me, I had always had rather delusional thoughts throughout my childhood, which I had initially believed were the result of a reaction to a deeply spiritual upbringing and a love of fiction writing. I didn’t recognize these thought patterns as particularly disruptive or even noticeable until after my diagnosis, though there are still things about my old ways of thinking that frankly kind of disturb me. For example, I still have ideations about happenstance occurrences which lead me to believe that certain things will happen. To a certain extent, I’m aware that this type of thinking is sometimes affiliated with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which I’m sure is linked to other disorders which include patterns of delusional thinking. However, there is a difference between believing that someone will text you back if you see a “sign” and genuinely believing you are in contact with celebrities.

The most bemusing thing about my dip from reality was the fact that I was at least intellectually aware of a possibility that my thoughts were delusional. This had never happened to me before, when to a certain extent, my thinking lifestyle prior to having psychosis was mostly delusional “for fun”. I believed in magic, and signs from the universe, and tarot cards, and astrology and all that bullshit. Now, I’m not sure what I believe in other than luck and the flow of energy between people being a tangible force (which I may discuss in a separate post). However, when I was sick with what most people would call schizophrenia I was intellectually questioning why I was having such monumental life experiences with no justification in the context of “reality”. I think that if you aren’t medicated it isn’t fully possible to overcome a force of delusional thinking so powerful you are incapable of comprehending your own brain’s motivation for surviving in society.

This leads me to a further line of thinking that correlates with the idea that psychosis may or may not be a survival tactic taken upon by the brain to protect one from a trauma response so powerful it could lead to suicidal ideation.

There are many different ways psychosis manifests and it appears in the context of many different diseases. My diagnosis was altered many times: Bipolar II with delusional thoughts, and then later Bipolar II schizoaffective type, and then later schizoaffective disorder; I’m aware that I’m Bipolar, and definitely recognize my symptoms in accordance with a traditional social awareness of the disease. However, after meeting many people with the schizophrenia diagnosis in mental health facilities I attended in order to be cured, I learned that some people just have psychosis all the fucking time. This leads me to believe that the brain is not necessarily in accordance with society’s chosen narrative regarding what leads humans to think in trajectories towards success, survival, sexual gratification, and pleasure. If we believe that our brains are only meant to exist in one format, or, if we are taught that the brain’s neurons only fire for certain reasons, that is how we will continue to lead our lives.

What I’m trying to communicate is that in the basic education I’ve received about my own brain had always led me to believe that I, personally, and everyone around me would always aspire to make the “right” or most fulfilling choice in the context of these set “needs” for the brain. What gives us satisfaction and pleasure in a psychological context may actually be, just what we’re taught gives us those things. While this may not fully matter in a hedonistic, capitalist society which is now falling apart before our eyes, I think we commonly disregard the fact that discipline can be rewarding just as much as a bout of instant gratification. This dialectic leads me to my next point, which I think can only be justified by the fact that I experienced psychosis.

If the brain is taught to pursue certain goals from an early stage of development, it will likely continue to seek out these prizes from birth until death. From here I will give a brief timeline of the experiences I had while being psychotic. Firstly, it’s notable that I’m almost certain the thing that caused by break was in accordance with the theory that a trauma is caused by the disruption of one’s assumptive world. I have never heard anything more accurate in the context of my own experience. I think that our assumptions about the way we are supposed to both live our lives and pursue “goals”, which are really just achievable narratives applied to our interpersonal experiences on a broader scale in society than we maybe comprehend, is toxic and, due to the fact that it is the foundation upon which our capitalist worldview is based, an inevitable lifestyle for almost everyone. For example, I will display the narrative of my psychosis as a psychological example to support this hypothesis.

From a young age, probably since birth, I have had an incredibly deep-seated belief that I was a very beautiful woman and that society would fundamentally reward for this. While this is obviously an incredibly subjective world view to take, it was comfortable and the belief itself was supportive enough for my self-esteem that it became what some might call a core belief. A horrible core belief, but one nonetheless. When I entered into a relationship that was casual but ultimately incredibly meaningful to me at the time when I was nineteen, my toxic core belief about my appearance led me to believe all kinds of stupid stuff you believe when you’re nineteen. Like, for example, if you’re extremely beautiful you can get any guy you want, including the one who will eventually leave you. When that happened to me, my incredibly shallow and unjustified and probably delusion belief that I was the most attractive person I knew led my assumptive world to being shattered. Of course, the experience of loving someone and having them not only leave you, but choose to be with someone else, is incredibly painful. I think this experience would be the same for everyone. Or, uniquely horrible and similar for everyone.

Either way, that trauma is likely what caused my psychotic break. Not because of the pain of the heartbreak, or the randomness of the event (which it was), or the severing of an important relationship, but because I had had such a devolved and view on the world and had been so sheltered to any other belief about my ability to sustain a romantic relationship that it led me to have to escape my own reality.

Other traumas coincided with this one. Shortly after the said relationship ended, I was sexually assaulted, which also led to a disruption of my assumptive world. I guess the only assumption I had in that regard was that I would never have to experience something that violent in my lifetime. To compare one’s traumatic experiences is really not a fun nor fruitful endeavor, but I think when it comes to psychosis, the stronger your assumptive belief was, the harder your brain pushes against the new, contradictory belief that now has to replace the old one. So, what was I now supposed to believe? I wasn’t beautiful? I wasn’t attractive? I wasn’t worthy of love because of what I had to offer, which at the time I believe most importantly were my looks. That was the new belief. It couldn’t be reconciled. There were now all these possibilities that came with the rest of my life even though I was only nineteen that were terrifying. With both the breakup and the sexual assault, I now had two replacement beliefs that were standing in my way: being beautiful didn’t necessarily grant you a significant other, and it might make you more vulnerable to sexual violence. And that was a lot to take into consideration.

I didn’t only believe that I was beautiful; I generally considered myself to be smarter, funnier, and generally more interesting than the people I would find myself surrounded by. Did this make me an arrogant asshole? Maybe. I was also a teenager. Regardless, if my intelligence and intuition couldn’t prevent me from avoiding one incredibly painful life experience which was shortly followed by one that was literally life-threatening, maybe everything I’d thought about myself was false. What this has to do with psychosis is relevant, only because of the timeline in which I suffered my series of mental health ailments before the point I actually became delusional.

Psychosis is widely considered to be a hiccup in the evolutionary code, but I can’t attest to whether or not I actually believe this. I think that if you have beliefs that carry you throughout your life, and they are disrupted, this can be painful and traumatizing and lead to growth, (however that’s perceived by an individual in the context of our “goal-oriented” society), but if one has a predisposition to believe something about their life and then is forced to realize that there is no possibility of this belief actually coming into fruition, that’s a problem for the brain. I’m not talking about whether or not you thought Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston were going to be together forever and then were traumatized by their separation. I’m talking about things that are so deeply engrained in your personhood, you weren’t even aware they were there. The phenomenon of an assumptive world being shattered by a dismantled belief leading to psychosis is one of my theories about why it occurs, though I don’t belief this can be applied to all cases.

Another theory I have about psychosis which can probably be considered pretty fundamental is that you have to have a predisposed mental health issue prior to developing delusional thoughts. I think delusions are an evolutionary tactic to prevent humans not only from the general pain of reality, but the immensely distressing fact that we are not even certain how or why we exist. Alternatively, what is the difference between a delusion and a belief? Are people who believe that Jesus Christ was a human being who was actually capable of walking on water, delusional? Objectively, in my opinion, this could be considered a delusion. The only reason it isn’t is because it is generally considered to be true by a majority of the population. What really makes a delusion is it’s specificity to your own personal thoughts and how your brain carries out fantasies, hopes in the context of the “goals” you’re supposed to be achieving, and the context in which you can no longer reconcile a specific belief with the reality you’re facing.

My delusional thoughts were largely centered around narratives regarding my self-worth. Mainly, they fulfilled the ultimately gratifying notion that I was the most attractive, interesting and beautiful woman in the world and that I deserved to go from being someone of complete obscurity to dating a celebrity, with no factual evidence that this was actually happening. The psychosis led me to believe that magic was real and that I could communicate with people through telepathy, alternate dimensions, past lives, and basically coordinated whatever train of thinking it would take for me to have a justified belief that I was dating a celebrity. This is 100% true. There were other times when I believed that celebrities were hoping to threaten my status as the girlfriend of an incredibly high-profile person, and wanted to kill me.

*TW*

This leads to another sector of my belief about psychosis that justifies the theory that it is an evolutionarily predisposed condition that is only executed in certain scenarios. For example, if you believe that you are no longer capable of living in a society where your beliefs can lead you to be a successful member of that society, you may want to kill yourself. This is a very grim analysis of a general thought pattern that people have every day, although when I had delusions some of them were literally that people I’d never met wanted to kill me, and that if I wasn’t killed first, I would have to kill myself. I know this isn’t an easy thing to discuss or read about. If evolution’s goal is to propel one forward in society by any means necessary, eradicating yourself from that template can be done through the loophole of delusions. I don’t know why the brain would be this cruel to itself, but I’m guessing if it’s already aware it can no longer be salvaged, maybe this is evolution’s last resort.

This absolutely leads to a debate regarding the nature of evolution and whether or not suicide is an evolutionary response to depression, schizoaffective disorder, schizophrenia, or other mental health ailments a person may suffer from. If you are in enough pain to take your own life, maybe that’s an evolutionary response to ending that pain. Of course, this is an incredibly difficult topic to talk about, and please know that I do not take the subject of suicide lightly and do not like assessing it’s potential place in the context of evolution. I am simply pulling from my own experience with psychosis to observe whether or not psychosis as a whole is an evolutionary function that goes against the shattering of one’s assumptive beliefs about the world.

I have other theories about psychosis and will probably post more about my experience with it here, though those are all the things I can think of off the top of my head when it comes to the full experience of undergoing that psychological phenomenon. I’m happy to say that anti-psychotics do work and while I’m grateful to now be ultimately cured from my psychosis, it was a life experience that I do not look back on fondly. I guess I hope that if anyone reads this, that they might feel better about their own mental health and know that there are always resources available no matter what when it comes to seeking help. A part of me also hopes that someone else who had psychosis might stumble upon this post and try and get in touch with me about their experiences. At the end of the day, I’m just a mentally ill person who likes to knit.

[michellebai2-blog]

Week 1: Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things

What biases do we see in the individuals in the film (remember biases are not just racist)? What biases are you noticing that you have which others may not share? What part of this film can you add to your primary research? How might these interviews inform your ideation for your term project? 

The individuals are biased towards people who live a simple and minimal life. In a way, it feels like they are assuming everyone who does not live under the “minimalistic” lifestyle is not truly happy and cannot find who they are. I understand that the producers and all the interviewees are trying to promote the minimalism. However, the way they expressed it makes people who purchase/fight for products on sale on Black Friday or Cyber Monday monsters who cannot take control of their lives (maybe I am being a little dramatic here, but this is the impression it gave me). Furthermore, from what I can tell, most or all of the individuals in this film are fairly successful or wealthy to begin with—before adopting the minimalistic way of life. Thus, they at least don’t have to worry about their basic needs in everyday life for a few years. I previously read somewhere that often the more wealthy people are the ones who adopt this minimalistic lifestyle, while blue-collar workers or even people in poverty tend to collect their items and belongings. I feel like the phenomenon I’m seeing here is that wealthy people/families would focus more on the “quality over quantity” idea and have the “less is more” concept. On the other hand, people/families who are not as well-off might not be comfortable to give/throw the items they purchased away just to achieve this “living more deliberately with less”. What I am saying is that I agree with compulsory consumption, fast fashion, purchasing items one does not certainly need… are bad for the society and maybe personal development, but in the documentary, they are only focusing on a confined group of individuals who do not represent America as a whole.

I also became aware that the individuals being interviewed in this documentary are mainly white males. There might be some correlation between being this and what I previously mentioned (being affluent/well-off). Also, I see the documentary as trying to promote Ryan, Joshua, and their book rather than the actual idea of minimalism (ironic how they are saying advertisement is bad for society but in a way creates a documentary to advertise themselves).

I think some idea mentioned in this film reflects on the current situation of society. For example, more and more people have hooked up to this perfect, “delusional” life that celebrities and influencers promote on their social media, creating this dissatisfaction in their own lives. Thus, lead to the materialistic additions and the urge to live this ideal life by mindless and compulsory consumption (can take a toll on one’s finance and the environment). Throughout the film, individuals believe that we should value people around us more and pay less attention to material needs. Having strong attachments to people in our lives makes sense but it no longer does once the attachments spill over to objects and materials (focus on human relationships and interactions rather than focusing on human’s need to obtain something).

In your own words, explain a paradigm shift you think will have the greatest impact on the future of design, as it relates to your own interests (cite any sources, link to any articles).

I think since technology is rapidly developing, everything will be digital and on “cloud”. People will start to look at problems and/or the unknown with this fast-growing technology. This can go into many if not all fields—from medical treatments (devices) to transportations (spaceships, aircraft, cars…). Moreover, using technology to make our lives easier and simpler. Like in China, it is kind of rare to see people use cash, everyone uses their phone to purchase goods. Most of the time we don’t even have to bring a bag with us leaving home, all we need is a phone. Through this example of change, I believe that many other areas/countries may adopt this way of life and minimizing the items we have to carry. In a way, everything is getting smaller and more intelligent, making people’s lives easier each day.

Besides, a lot of work or jobs will be substituted by machines or AIs in the future. Therefore, designing or programming those items will be a huge part of the near future.

How might your biases affect the way you think about athletes & injuries?

I think some biases that I have about athletes are that they tend to get injured a lot, they are role models, they tend to be fast (physically and mentally), they only wear athletic wears, they are muscular and very built… Some biases about injuries are that they are always bad, they tend to be harmful to the human body, everyone will/already got injured at least once in their lives… There are many assumptions that not only do I think about athletes, I feel like when it comes to a group of people, it also rises to stereotype instead of just purely biases. Through these biases and stereotypes, people will assume others as what society thinks and portrays them (judging the book by its cover). This creates a limiting box for everyone as they fit into at least one of the categories. For athletes, not all of them are role models, some have a chaotic personal life, some do drugs, some bribe to win… I believe people are people, the biases can affect them positively or negatively, however, it will be very hard to escape this stereotype. 

[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 5: Barbara

Ao3

Barbara pulled her coat tighter around her and shivered. The air out here was brisk and sharp, but the roaring fire in front of her helped take the edge off. And a good mug of hot tea didn’t hurt either. Still, it wasn’t about to get any warmer. Jim had said he wouldn’t be out long tonight, just a quick walk and back in time to go to bed by eleven. 

 Not that the cold bothered him.

 Wind rustled through the trees around her, autumnal reds and golds rustling against evergreen needles. It wasn’t really that late in the season, but it certainly wasn’t early either. Barbara and Jim usually prefered to do their trips during the more palatable times of year, then again, this wasn’t one of their usual trips.

 She might be oblivious more often than she cared to admit, but Barbara wasn’t blind. She saw the posters printed on orange and black paper hanging on the community board at the hospital. Heard her coworkers talk about all the plans their kids were making together. Plans involving candy and costumes and spending the night out on the town. Plans no teenager would dare turn down without very good reason.

 Like say a family vacation.

 So when Jim called her during the middle of school three days ago, begging her to take the weekend off and go camping, she hadn’t been very surprised.

 Saddened, but not surprised.

 Pulling an impromptu camping trip off hadn’t been easy by any means. Between the lateness of the season and the incredibly short notice, Barbara had barely been able to get the reservations in place, not to mention gathering all the supplies they needed. But she had rolled up her sleeves, dug in her heels, and made magic happen. 

 And now here they were. Sitting in the middle of the woods, pretending that they would both rather be here than at home celebrating the holiday with friends and family.

 A burning sensation built up behind her eyes. Barbara set her mug to the side, if she tried to drink anything now she’d only end up choking on her own tears.

 It wasn’t fair, not to either of them, but especially to Jim. She knew being cooped because of his transformations was hard. Even more so when he had to say no to going out and having fun with his friends.

 On some days the only way Barbara was able to get up in the morning was by telling herself that all of this was temporary. One day she would find a cure and Jim would be free of his transformations, then they both would be able to live their lives without this nightmare. 

 Things might be bad now, but only for a little while, sooner or later it would end. For years she had told herself this and for years it had worked.

 At least until Jim’s last birthday. When Barbara stopped being so sure that there would even be an end.

 She stuffed the dismal thoughts into the back of her mind and tried to force herself to relax in her seat. No point working herself into a downward spiral. It hadn’t worked the first dozen times she’d done it, no reason to think it would be any more productive now. 

 Looking around while pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders, Barbara checked the periphery of their campsite for signs of Jim’s return. She couldn’t see much, the fire was bright but not that bright. The only things she had a clear view of were her small tent, the clear area laid down with blankets on top of a tarp for Jim, the electric lantern behind her bolstering the dim firelight, the ATV they used to get out here, their cooler and chest full of supplies, and just a fraction of the miles of forest around her. 

 No sign of Jim.

 Barbara glanced at her watch, sighed, threw another log on the fire, grabbed a couple of magazines from the stack, and settled in to wait. Jim always told her not to wait up for him, but it wasn’t like she could sleep without knowing where her son was. Better to pass the time with a magazine. Barbara never went camping without a fat stack of them. They could help her pass the time when Jim was out on his walks and could be repurposed as kindling so they didn’t have to haul them back. She always made a point to grab some from the waiting room at work when they cycled the new issues in. 

 Reaching over to the stack at her feet, she glanced between the copies of People and National Geographic before tossing the People into the fire. Gossip rags had never been her thing.

 Yawning, Barbara thumbed through the National Geographic . Hopefully this would keep her more entertained. One of the cover stories looked promising, ‘The Salem Witch Trials: Over three centuries later’ . Sounded better than celebrity gossip at least. 

 Barbara flipped to the corresponding page and started the article using the speed reading techniques she learned in medical school. It was ok, but pretty ho-hum, no more or less entertaining than watching the History channel. Should be an adequate way to pass the next twenty minutes.  

 Which was exactly what Barbara planned on doing until she came to a line that caused the world around her to come crashing down around her.

 Whipping her head to the side Barbara coughed and sputtered up the tea that had gotten rediverted into her lungs due to her shock. 

 She couldn’t have read what she just did, it was impossible, delusional even. 

 But when she turned back toward the page with a pounding heart there it was. A deceptively innocuous line of text buried in the middle of the article.

 The true witch hunt began with the arrests of Tituba, Sarah Osbourne, and Sarah Good.

 Sarah Good.

 The same name tied to the mystery that haunted their family for the past ten years.

 For a few seconds she forgot how to breathe, just sat there staring at the words printed in cheap ink on even cheaper paper. Mouth open, sitting frozen rigid in her seat, gears whiring as her brain processed all the implications of this.

 Was it just a coincidence? Sarah Good couldn’t be that rare of a name, or could there be a connection? 

 It was a stretch, even by the Lake family’s standards. 

 Her fifteen year old son turned blue and sprouted horns when the sun went down and had been doing so for the past decade. Nothing was off the table. 

 She flipped back and began rereading the article with much more intensity, blood rushing in her ears.

 Moral panic, mass hysteria, mob mentality. According to the stuffy old professors that wrote the article there wasn’t anything even remotely magical about the Salem witch trials. 

 But they hadn’t seen the things Barbara had, lived the things she’d lived.

 Was it somehow possible that one of these long ago women was more than she seemed? Had a touch of something that could still be causing ripples centuries later?

 The paper crinkled under her fingers. If there really was a connection, and Barbara wasn’t sure that there was, then this was their biggest break in years.

 As soon as she got home Barbara was going to take this new lead and hit the library, hit Wikipedia, hit anything and everything that might offer her the slightest clue. There was a chance, however faint, that history might hold some of the answers that had eluded them for a decade.

 Her lips parted as she leaned in and skewered the magazine with her gaze, feeling almost feverish.

 A dream, an idea, too lofty and terrifying to imagine flickered to life in the back of her mind, despite her best efforts to snuff it out before her hopes could rise too high.

 Barbara knew first hand how much it hurt when hope was dashed to pieces, but she had forgotten just how intoxicating it could be.

 If history had the answers, then it just might have a cu--

 “Mom?”

 Barbara shrieked, tea sloshed out of her mug and the magazine went flying.

 Jim took a hesitant step back “Sorry, did I scare you?”

 “NO! no-- I just--” Barbara glanced back towards where the magazine had landed “I was just really engrossed in the article I was reading,”

 Jim cocked his head “What was it about?”

 “I-- it….”

 He blinked back at her, wide eyed and curious. 

 “...something about the revolutionary war, how was your walk?” 

 Barbara forced a smile and very deliberately did not look toward where the magazine had fallen. She would tell Jim, but not yet. Only once she had discovered something solid, more tangible. 

 She couldn’t raise his hopes when she wasn’t even sure that her own were founded.

 “Fine,” Jim took a seat at the fire across from her “Moon’s full, that was pretty cool,”

 Barbara nodded and leaned back in her seat, picking up her half-full mug and willing the buzz of nervous energy in her limbs to fade. She reached for the long wooden branch to poke at the fire, only to notice the tote bag at her feet. That’s right, with all the excitement of her discovery she had almost forgotten. 

 “Jim, I have a surprise for you,”

 He perked up instantly “Really? What?”

 “Here,” she lifted the tote and tossed it across the fire towards him. 

 Jim caught it with ease and reached an arm in, pulling out a smaller plastic bag with a look of surprise “Candy corn?”

  “Yep,” Barbara gave him a gentle smile “Happy Halloween kiddo,”

 Jim smiled back at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes “Thanks mom,” he tore open the bag and started popping the orange triangles into his mouth while staring into the fire, expression unreadable.

 They sat like that for a few minutes, the only sounds Jim’s chewing and the crackling of the fire, before Barbara couldn’t bite her tongue any more.

 Normally she would leave well enough alone, but reading what she did in that magazine had set her thoughts a-buzzing like a nest of hornets.

 She didn’t want to corner Jim like this, to put him on the spot, make an already stressful trip worse. But she couldn’t just stay quiet, her own conscience wouldn’t let her.

 For years Barbara had tried , tried so hard to give Jim space. Let him deal with his problems without hounding him every ten seconds. 

 It wasn’t until Jim broke down crying in school that she realized just how poorly that approach had worked out. 

 Jim had shouldered so much by himself, struggling in silence, until one day came the staw that broke the camel’s back. Leaving him a shattered wreck.

 Of course who’s fault was that? A nasty voice whispered in her ear. Who should have been modeling healthy coping mechanisms for him? Who showed up after work every day dead tired and still pasted a smile on her face for years and pretended like everything was fine even when they both knew it that it damn well wasn’t. 

 Who was it that taught Jim to bottle up his emotions until he exploded? 

 More importantly, what kind of mother didn’t notice that her child was in pain?

 Barbara steeled herself even though her stomach still churned with doubt. Even if it meant pushing his boundaries she wasn’t going to let Jim fall into such a bad place, not again, not if she could help it.

 “How are you Jim? I mean really,” 

 Jim didn’t respond at first, merely finished chewing his mouthful of candy and swallowed, but he didn’t pick up any more.

 “Better,” he said after a long time.

 Barbara’s gut twisted with equal parts anxiety and relief. Better wasn’t anything to dismiss, but it wasn’t the same thing as good either.

 The days following Jim’s fifteenth birthday, and the realization that things might not get better than they were now, had been some of the worst of both of their lives, only comparable to the days after James’s departure and the night Jim first changed. 

 And as bad as things had been for her, she knew Jim’s condition was far far worse.

 He had sunk into a deep slump and stayed there for days. Barely speaking, barely eating; not even glancing at anything, video games, vespa magazines, cooking equipment, that had brought him joy just a few days before. Jim had been in such a dark place, and Barbara was powerless to help him find his way out.

 “Better how?”

 Jim twisted the plastic of the bag around his finger “Me and Toby are hanging out with Mary, Darci, and Claire; you know about them, right?”

 Barbara nodded.

 One day in the middle of his depression, just when she’d been starting to worry that her son would never smile again, out of the blue Jim had come home and told her that he was invited to go to the county fair with Toby and some girls from his class. Unsure what to do with this development, Barbara had sent Jim off with a kiss on the forehead and $20 to pay his way, hoping for the best.

 When Jim had come home that night he was smiling brighter than he had in a long time. 

 Those three names had come up frequently in Jim’s gushing the night following the county fair. And for many nights after. 

 “Has being friends with them...helped?”

 “Oh yeah, they’re really fun,” Jim said with a grin “We hang out almost every day after school and during our off period, Mary always has the best ideas about what to do and Darci is a total daredevil, plus Steve never bothers us when we’re with them,”

 That got her attention “I’m sorry, what?”

 Jim’s eyes widened, clearly having revealed more than he intended.

Barbara’s mouth straightened into a hard line “Who is this Steve and how does he ‘bother’ you?”

“A guy in my class, and nothing really,” his eyes darted around the clearing, landing on anything but her “Honestly it’s not a big deal,”

 “Jim.” her voice was iron, and offered no room for negotiation.

 He squirmed but remained silent. 

 Barbara fixed him with a narrowed gaze and waited.

 A minute and a half was all it took.

 “It’s...sometimes he…” Jim stared down at the fire, still unable to look her in the eye  “He’ll...push me and trip me in the hall, little stuff like that,”

 Barbara could practically feel her blood pressure rising “That is unacceptable. When we get home we’re going to talk to the school about him,”

 Jim visibly cringed “You don’t need to do that mom, I can handle Steve, please just don’t make a big deal about this”

 Somehow her frown got even deeper. This was a big deal. No matter the circumstances, Barbara was not going to let Jim minimize someone else’s violent behavior.

 “This isn’t up for debate. You shouldn’t have to handle another student being violent with you,”

 “It’s not that bad, telling will just make things worse,”

 “Has he threatened to retaliate if you tell on him!?” 

 “No! I-- it’s just…” Jim trailed off, his words hanging in the air. 

 The silence as taut as a wire.

 Then he sighed, sounding utterly defeated “Things at school are finally normal again, Steve might give me a hard time...but everyone else has finally stopped looking at me weird,”

 Jim looked up and met her eyes “Steve’s a jerk, a huge jerk, but I can handle him, I just want…” his voice dropped into a hoarse whisper “I just want other people to at least think I’m normal,”

 Her throat was tight. It rankled, more than that, it went against every instinct Barbara had to ignore a bully, and a violent one at that. It felt wrong, hell, that was probably because it was wrong. But could she really make things for Jim more turbulent after he’d finally regained some stability in his life?

 His life that was only going to get more difficult from here on out. 

 Or maybe it wouldn’t.

 Barbara shut her eyes and let out a deep breath “Ok, if you don’t think the situation with Steve needs addressing we can leave it be,”

 Jim perked up.

 “ However , if things start to escalate with him, even a little bit, you let me know right away, got it?”

 Jim nodded “Got it,”

 “Good,” Barbara leaned back and forced herself to take another sip of tea.

 The uncomfortable subject was officially dropped, but things were still strained between them, waiting to snap under the slightest trigger.

 “Steve may be a jerk,” Jim said softly “But I really am doing better,”

 “Are you Jim? Are you really ?” she knew her tone was sharper than it should be, but right now she didn’t have the mental space to worry about that. Right now Barbara was too worried and too scared and too frazzled and too tired. So goddamn tired “Because I feel like everytime you say that it’s only to make me feel better. You never tell me when things are bad or that you’re hurting,”

 “I swear I’m not downplaying things this time!”

 “How do I know that? You didn’t tell me what was going on on your birthday, you didn’t tell me about being kicked out of the Mole scouts-- Christ, another student’s been harassing you at school and this is the first I’m hearing about it!”

Neither one of them said anything for a long time

“This-- this isn’t like that!”

“Well I don’t want the next time that I find out you’re struggling to be when one of your teachers calls me because you broke down crying again!” 

 Her mouth shut with a click. She’d gone too far, way too far. Barbara should not have said that. But now the words were out there, and she couldn’t take them back if she tried.

 The stunned look on Jim’s face told her that he hadn’t been expecting her to go this far either.

  “There’s social media,” Jim finally spoke up in a quiet voice “Mary practically forced me to make seven new accounts so I can follow her on everything,” he gave a weak smile “So even if they move away we can still stay in touch,”

 “Jim…”

“And Darci’s dad’s a cop and Claire’s mom is a politician, so maybe not all of them will move away...” 

 Jim straightened and raised his head towards her. The look on his face, uncertain but so so determined, tore at her heartstrings “I really am doing better,”

 Barbara got up from her seat and walked over to him, reaching out and laying a hand on his shoulder “And I’m happy for you, I’m glad that you’re doing better and I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. It was wrong of me to say what I did and I promise I won’t do that again,” 

 She gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze “I’m glad things are better for you now, but if they get bad again...please don’t hide it. Talk to me, share how you feel so it doesn’t build up,” 

 It was a testament to how tall he was getting that Barbara barely had to kneel to look Jim in the eye even while he was sitting “I know you think you’re protecting me when you hide your problems, but remember, we’re a team. And I can’t help you if I don’t know that something’s wrong,”

 Even with the tusks she could see his lip start to quiver “We take care of each other,” Jim’s voice was thick with emotion “Right?” 

 Her own eyes brimming, Barbara pulled him into a hug ��Right,”

 Their embrace lasted a few more seconds, long enough for both of them to sniffle their unshed tears away, before Barbara gently pulled back, Jim releasing her willingly, and went back to her seat.

 She took a few more sips of tea and he munched on his candy corn while the fire cracked and popped between them, the silence much more palatable now. 

 Her tea was almost gone when Jim spoke up again.

 “Actually, there is something…”

 “What is it?” Barbara forced herself to stay calm and not jump down his throat with a dozen questions. Jim was putting himself out there, now she had to do her part and let him speak.

 Jim shifted uncomfortably in his seat “You know Claire? One of the new girls I’ve been hanging out with?”

 “Yes?”

 “I...like her...as...more than a friend,” even as he said those words he slumped back in his seat, like a puppet with the strings cut “But I can’t...date her or even tell her as long…” he sank even lower “As long as I’m like...this,”

 A dagger to the back couldn’t have hurt her any deeper. Jim’s transformations had taken so much from him already and now he couldn’t even...

 Barbara was keenly aware of the magazine on the ground behind her, blazing like a hot coal from just beyond her vision. 

 In that moment she vowed that she would chase down whatever possible leads this new discovery offered her. Run to the ends of the earth, leave no stone unturned. Do whatever it takes to find a cure. Barbara would find a way for her son to live a normal life, with all that entailed.

 No matter how many decades it took. 

 “Thank you for telling me,”

 Jim managed to crack a smile before going back to his candy corn.

 Finally able to relax, they settled in to just enjoy the rest of the night and each other’s company, accompanied by the soft glow and crackles from the dying fire. The hour slips away, Barbara finishes her tea and Jim polishes off his candy corn and eats the bag to. 

 Eventually Barbara stood up from her chair “I’m going to bed, be sure to take care of the fire before you go to sleep,”

 Jim yawned and stretched “I think I’m gonna turn in to,”

 Barbara raised an eyebrow “Aren’t you still hungry?”

 “Nah,” Jim appeared to only be half listening while he spread the coals around with the stick.

 She frowned, glancing at the crumbs of orange sugar on the ground. Even by his night-food standards that wasn’t a very nutritious meal “You should have more to eat than just candy,”

 “It’s ok, I ate earlier,”

 She looked over at their cooler full of food stores, all of it untouched “What did you eat?”

 Jim fidgeted and looked away while pouring their used dishwater over the glowing ashes “I...uh...a fox,”

 “A fox?”

 “Yeah...I saw it on my walk...it was dead when I found it...so I figured why not,”

 Her blood ran cold “Do you have any idea how it might have died?”

 “Old age?”

 Barbara slowly walked over and grabbed the electric lantern, now that the fire was out they needed the extra light to see each other “How long ago did you eat it?”

 “About two hours ago?” Jim’s voice was small, some of her anxiety starting to leech into him.

 Two hours. Which meant it was probably too late to make him vomit it out.

 “Mom, what’s wrong?”

 Barbara took a deep breath and willed herself to stay calm. The were in the middle of the woods miles away from any kind of civilization; panicking wouldn’t do either of them a damn bit of good right now “That fox might have died from a disease, like tularemia or bru--”

 “Or rabies…” Jim finished, blue face growing pale in the lantern light.

 Barbara grimaced, her thoughts exactly, she’d wanted to avoid scaring him by saying so out loud but it looked like he’d put it together himself “It’s ok, it’s only two hours back to the rental place and one to the nearest town big enough to have what we need. We can just say a fox bit you, that should get you all the shots you need. If we get up at six we can get there before ten,,”

 Barbara walked over to Jim and squeezed both of his shoulders “Don’t worry,I’ve seen rabies exposure cases before, people have received their initial rabies shots almost 24 hours after they’ve been bitten and made complete recoveries. Ten am tomorrow is plenty early enough,” 

 Even if she was battling her own fears Jim needed to hear those words from her right now.

 She managed to smile and pat him on the cheek “You’re going to be fine,”

 His expression wavered before solidifying into enforced composure, he nodded back at her.

 With that they separated and set about preparing to retire for the night, despite the fresh undercurrent of panic.

 Soon pajamas were on, teeth were brushed, and the lantern was out; the only light coming from the small flashlight she held. And once Jim was bundled up on his tarp and Barbara was cocooned in her tent that was extinguished too. She shut her eyes and settled into the sleeping bag, determined to get a full night’s rest.

 Barbara was just starting to nod off when she heard Jim whisper from outside. 

 “Are you still awake mom?”

 “Yeah,” she replied with a yawn “What is it hon?”

 “We’re going to tell the clinic that an animal bit me and that’s why I need the shots, right?”

 “Uh huh,” 

 “Then...won’t it look weird if I don’t have any bite wounds on me?”

 Her eyes shot open.