#also I posted this once without the streak so if you saw that notification no you didn’t

[flycatchxr]

AU Week 2022

Saturday/ Sunday: Nickels and Cethleann - High School AU

Okay I know they haven’t even met in canon yet, and they’re probably not going to be friends in the beginning. BUT that won’t stop me in making them friends in every other universe!!

[periwnklblu]

the setters and their lockscreens

featuring: kageyama, atsumu, sugawara and akaashi

it’s my birthday and i can write bad if i want to

this pics are ofc not mine, i found them on pinterest! pls enjoy these and feedback is always appreciated <3

will most likely edit later

kageyama

the story behind it: Kageyama loved to practice, even on his days off from formal practice; but he also loved being with you. which is what led you to entertain yourself while he runs himself tired at the neighborhood park you were both at. once he finally decides to take a break and lays down on the blanket you set out earlier, the first thing he does is check through his notifications on his phone. in the midst of scrolling, he hears the crunching of grass beneath your feet as you tried your best to stealthily approach him. poor bby tobio was trying so hard to hide the pinterest board he was looking at before you “surprised” him *cough* engagement rings *cough*, he accidentally opens his camera app instead. now Kageyama is no photographer, but in that moment he knows it’s a perfect shot. he quickly snaps the pictures just moments before you pout in realization that he could see you all along. he never tells you he changed his lock screen to you until hinata mentions how creepy it is to see kageyama smile every time he looks at his phone.

atsumu:

the story behind it: atsumu constantly changes his lock screen because he loooooooves showing off his relationship to others. this picture in particular has a three week streak, especially since it was taken the day he returned from a long training camp. atsumu meant to surprise you at your house but when he arrived, you were in the shower and unaware of his presence. he meant to lay down and wait for you to emerge from the bathroom, but you were taking too long and his eyes could no longer fight the sleep. he was blissfully dreaming about you when he was suddenly woken up by a weight on his back. overjoyed with finally seeing your boyfriend, you snuggle into his back for who knows how long before deciding to take out your phone and capturing the moment. atsumu whined until you sent him the picture and not only made it his lock screen, but posted it across all his social media platforms too.

sugawara:

the story behind it: you both showed up to your friends party separately and had unknowingly matched with each other. while everyone else was in the main room, you insisted on taking advantage of the lighting and having a whole photo shoot instead. running out of pose ideas, you both begin to maneuver around each other in hopes of finding inspiration for your next pose. caught up in each other’s giggle and soft touches, you don’t realize that your self timer is still going, taking nothing but blurry pictures every few seconds until you two land in this position for more than a few moments. you completely forgot about this picture until later that night when you were going through your camera roll, making you smile and sending it to suga. “this one didn’t come out too bad”. pls he was so obsessed with the picture he put it as his lock screen and made a point to show all his friends and family.

akaashi:

the story behind it: my babyyy,,, anyways, this was taken for your birthday. your family had planned a surprise dinner with all your siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles and Akaashi was the only non-family member invited. you were so surprised when you walked in and saw your family and favorite person that you couldn’t stop smiling the entire night. it wasn’t until it was time to cut the cake that you couldn’t help the happy emotions you were feeling, especially while watching Akaashi get along so well with your family. while your mom was frantically trying to get everyone rallied around the table, you tug on his sleeve which successfully gives you his attention. without any warning, you pull him in for a chaste kiss followed by a small “thank you for being here”. neither of you knew that your sister, who had deemed herself the photographer of the night, had captured the intimate moment and sent it to both of you as a birthday gift. since that night, it became not only his but your lock screen as well <3

[local-space-case]

Bakugou Katsuki is Not A Loser

Word Count: IDK

Rated: T (mention of abuse, self-loathing, cursing)

AO3 Account: FerociousFerret (out here only posting first drafts on a whim why?)

When Bakugou sees the looming  silhouette of Endeavor at the hospital outside of Todoroki’s room, he thinks he feels a million emotions at once.

Some he’s familiar with like fury, annoyance, and the protective fire he venomously denies exist are the ones off the top his head. But there’s also fear. An emotion he’s embarrassedly familiar with. A deep anxiety clawing it’s way out of his chest while still somehow keeping a tight grip on his lungs. It commands he stay rooted in the middle of the bleach white hallways that even so quiet he thinks they must be louder than he is. He wants to say something. He wants to yell, scream, curse, kick the fucker out the goddamn window, but he can’t.

Until the number piece of human shit takes a step closer to the door.

“OI! You can’t fuckin’ go in there!”

It comes out like the nasty snarl he was hoping for. The pro hero glances at him with a look disdain before reluctantly taking a step away from the door. Bakugou assumes he must not want to cause a scene. Doesn’t stop the stubborn shit from arguing with him though.

“He’s my son, I have a right to visit”. His tone was clipped, formal, placating, like he was delusional enough to think Bakugou was going to lose this fight.

Bakugou Katsuki was not a loser.

“Last time I checked, trash belongs outside not stinking up disinfected air.” He lets his gaze linger on a door across the hall. “Besides, I don’t listen to losers.”

Endeavor seems to puff up like a pissed off cat. God, so that’s where Strawberry Shortcake gets it from.

He looks like he wants to beat Bakugou into the ground and Bakugou lives by the philosophy of ‘If it can crawl, it can brawl.’, so he’s up for anything this fucker has to offer. But he doesn’t, instead he closes his eyes and inhales like he’s having an fucking asthma attack.

“You shouldn’t insult your elders.” Endeavor says after a beat. Bakugou huffs a laugh.

“Or what? You’ll hit me?” It’s an attack and based on the way the hero recoils, he knows it. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows it because it was broadcasted on live television. It was like a car crash, so gruesome but you just can’t tear your eyes away until you see that everyone is okay.

However, like a car crash, it’s abundantly clear that no one in the Todoroki family is okay. But, Bakugou didn’t find out when the crash happened. No, he knew the truth deep down when he saw the unsteady swerves of one of the drivers who had the audacity to essentially give him first place at the Sports Festival.

Bakugou thinks about that moment a lot. Usually at night when he can’t sleep because he feels like someone’s watching him, he wonders what Todoroki saw that snuffed out the fighting spirit he’d paraded around before their round.

He’s young, but he’s not naive. Not anymore. He knows, undoubtably, that during their fight Half ‘n Half didn’t see Bakugou’s drive to win, he saw his father’s flaming fists.

He feels his usual scowl paint itself onto his face, “How does it feel knowing your entire family is afraid of you?” The older man doesn’t say anything, deciding that floor is much more interesting than the conversation Bakugou wants to have. The conversation he needs to have.

“Number One Hero, hah?,” he mocks, “You know, that’s really fuckin’ funny. That’s a hoot ‘n holler. You could be a stand up comic.” he gives a pause waiting for a reaction. He doesn’t get on.

“Too bad they don’t like sacks shit lyin’ around.” A pause. “You didn’t answer my question by the way, so tell me, how does it feel knowing your whole family is afraid of you? That you have no friends because you decided you didn’t need them, you only needed to be on top. Well,” a sharp bitter laugh echos through the hall, “congratulations.”

He stalks up to Endeavor and gets up in his personal bubble. He can see a blue eye trained on his own red ones. With a pointed grin, the blond knows he has the man’s attention now, so he keeps going.

“How does it feel knowing that you lost? And before you open that fuckin’ cavity ridden mouth of yours, you’re gonna listen and you’re gonna listen good.” Endeavor had tried to open his mouth to object because apparently the idea of losing something was getting to him. Bakugou could deal with this.

“How can you call yourself a hero after everything you’ve done? How do you do that? How do you sleep at night knowing that the so-called number one hero can save a civilian but fuckin’ torment his family?”

Endeavor is trying to ignore him. He can tell because his eyes are once again back to the floor. He won’t let him though.

“How does it feel knowing that, after all these years, even though you won, you lost.”

Bakugou is, and has always been competitive. He wants to be the best, he needs to be the best, because only the best people can be heros. He’d always adored All Might growing up, but not the same way Deku did.

When Deku saw All Might, he saw a beacon of hope, a peace bringer, an unstoppable force of nature. He saw a role model. A mountain of a man who was as strong as a tiger, yet gentle like a rabbit. Someone who uses their power for good instead of evil.

When Bakugou saw All Might, he saw a winner. A strong man who beat villains into the ground and obtained more money and praise than anyone else could ever hope for in a lifetime. He didn’t see a man, he saw a king who had kept a tight hold on his crown. He wanted to take it. So, yes he liked All Might for his position of power, but he respected Endeavor.

Endeavor may have been the number two hero, but Bakugou saw himself in him. He saw the fights on tv with the walls of fire, the punches, the yelling, he saw it all. Endeavor was not like All Might, he never backed away from a fight, never bothered to try and find a peaceful resolution, but he always won. He won with fiery fists and scowls and he didn’t smile for the press, he wasn’t fake.

Bakugou thought he felt hate for Deku, but now he knows better. This is hate. This feeling in his heart that’s screaming, hurting, burning.

This is hate.

This is hate because he can see his reflection in this monster draped in human skin.

He sees himself pushing Deku away because he thinks he’s superior, kicking, hitting, burning, screaming, he can see it all. He can see Deku become smaller and smaller and he remembers how happy it made him because Deku knew his place and that meant he won.

He sees Endeavor hitting his wife, screaming til he’s blue in the face at Todoroki, his siblings tear-streaked faces when they realize Touya is never coming home. He sees Todoroki’s determined expression flicker with fear before dropping to the ground like a rag doll. He sees Endeavor’s please smirk turn into a sour scowl because his son didn’t get first, he didn’t win. He sees Todoroki sitting in the main area while all their classmates pack up to go home for the holidays with raised hackles and paranoid glances at the slightest noise. He sees what once was Todoroki Touya on live tv telling the whole world his father’s sins and he wants to make him pay.

He sees the ambition, the anger, the low tolerance for anything that isn’t the best, the need to be the best at everything all the time but, Endeavor didn’t win, did he?

Endeavor became the number one hero because his rival fell, but he did not win. He was a martyr to the public, but a monster to his family. He was the monster under bed, the demons in their heads, the footsteps they should fear, and the man they should not love, but worship.

He took and took and took until his family had nothing left to give. He sleeps at night uncaring that his family don’t have a home they have a graveyard full of phantom memories of the lives they never got to live and the dreams they never got to chase. They get the ghosts in the mirror, a walking corpse for a body, and the perpetual state of mourning the love they’d never receive.

Then again, maybe Endeavor didn’t win or lose, because you can’t win a game you aren’t even playing. The moment he insulted, or raised a hand to his wife or children, he was disqualified.

Bakugou knows he’s no saint, but he’s not a loser. He’s worked hard to get his head outta his ass because he already loss. He lost his best friend and any dream filled nights that may have come to him. He learned.

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, he glances back at the man he’d looked up to and respected for many years. A man he hopes karma kills as slowly and subtly as he had with his family. He huffs.

“Yeah, I don’t like losers. Now, go the fuck home before I call security.”

He backs away but doesn’t leave the doorway as the sack of shit made the right choice and shuffled away. Bakugou makes a noise of satisfaction.

The explosive blond glances inside Todoroki’s room where the staff drugged him up on sedatives and silently wills him to get better. He’ll never say it out loud, but they were friends, and he did care.

(He also fears, that maybe, the news is right about how insanity runs in the family and that maybe he didn’t chase Endeavor off fast enough before Todoroki lost it completely like his mother and brother. Bakugou hopes that maybe he finally did something good.)

The vibrating of his phone jolts him from his thoughts and he reads the notification.

Shitty Hair: hey bakubro we wanted to know if ur still coming to movie night

Shitty Hair: no stress tho!!! a lots happened so we get it if u wanna skip

Another huff of laughter, this time less bitter, escapes from his lips.

He allows himself to smile and tells Kirishima he’s on his way and that they better not start without him. Yeah.

Bakugou Katsuki is a lot of things, but he’s not a loser.

[cobrakiin]

I Wouldn't Fall For Someone I Thought Couldn't Misbehave

Cojeel | Mentioned Lulev + Stingue | Rated: M (Nothing Super Explicit but ends with Very Spicy Fluff)

When Gajeel signed on for helping re-stabilize the Magic Council after the bombings, he didn't expect all the redundant paperwork, nosy coworkers, or the smokin' hot redhead that likes to play dangerous games with him.

And he should really learn to lock his front door... but why should he? He's practically rewarded for leaving it unlocked!

Aka the post-Rhodonite/Road Knight oneshot that my brain decided to inspire me to write by repeatedly chanting "COBRA SHOW HIS LEGGY" repeatedly until I finished writing it.

[AO3] [FFN]

________________________

"Everything okay?"

"Nn?"

"You've been quiet," Levy reiterated.

"'Course I am, I've got all these bullshit reports to do," Gajeel grumbled, motioning to the mess of papers on his desk. "If I'd known helping clean up after the Council was gonna involve so much goddamn paperwork, I would've told 'em I can't read and saved a hundred trees."

"That's very noble of you," Levy said, unconvincingly flat. She leaned her elbow on her desk, resting her chin in her hand. Her honey brown eyes narrowed, watching him suspiciously. "I meant that you haven't seemed to be your usual self recently. You've been way more distracted lately."

He snorted dismissively. "I ain't you. Sue me for findin' never-ending paperwork boring."

"Come to think of it," Levy ploughed on, "It started right after that mission to recapture that Oracion Seis member." She tapped her index finger against her chin, feigning thought. "And he got away…"

Gajeel sharply eyed her.

His position in the New Magic Council was… unique. Gajeel was only handed cases regular Rune Knights couldn't handle - he was a Dragonslayer whose magic made near-unbreakable iron objects and also happened to be an expert tracker, so he became the guy who could track and capture the more elusive, difficult targets.

An escaped, dark mage Dragonslayer? Right up his alley.

Officially… Gajeel had found Cobra, but the sudden issue of an active child trafficking ring took precedence and Cobra 'got away' in the mess of it all.

Unofficially… Gajeel had found Cobra and they'd exchanged blows at first. Testing each other until Cobra's real target had revealed itself. Then the two Dragonslayers tore those kidnappers to shreds. Once the kids were safe with Council forces, Gajeel had managed to track Cobra down again a few remote towns over. (Gajeel tracked him; Cobra didn't 'let' Gajeel find him again - nope! Finding him again was all Gajeel!) And that's where everything got a lot messier and a lot hotter… and a lot stickier...

Dragons were very much creatures that abided by the Universal Law of the Four F's - food, fight, flee, or fuck - sometimes there was a Fifth F in there, too… something about "Friend" or whatever.

Gajeel meeting Natsu? Fight on sight.

Meeting Laxus? Yeah, there was a Fight, but Gajeel was a little more honest with himself these days that he had actually wanted to Flee the Thunder God.

Wendy and Rogue? He guessed that's where "Friend" came in. Maybe also Food somewhere mixed up in there; they both really needed to eat more. That counted, right?

That blonde idiot mated to his brother? Well… if Sting weren't practically plastered to Rogue's side every waking minute of the day, Gajeel wouldn't mind a Fight with him. (Besides, the guy reminded him too much of Salamander.)

But meeting Cobra? That was the first time his inner dragon skipped past all the other F's - looked right at that cocky little shit-eating elf - and decided on Fuck. And it soon became apparent that Cobra's inner dragon had come to the same conclusion about Gajeel.

It was not at all what he had expected when he'd been handed that case file. He'd expected a Fight and not a Fuck. And while he got both - he was getting plenty of the second one. Even now.

He wasn't stupid: Cobra would do a lot more good out there slaughtering slavers than locked back up for, what? Crimes he committed as a teenager? (Following that mission, Gajeel had checked what was left of Cobra's file after the bombings. While he was sure the redhead had done much worse than what was in there, legally all they could hold him on now was "association with dark mages" and a couple of assassinations they "suspected" him of.) Killing traffickers the Council couldn't (or wouldn't) go after was basically community service, in Gajeel's opinion.

An added plus to all that "community service" was that Cobra sometimes showed up after Gajeel was done with a mission. Always approached him alone, always knew where they wouldn't be seen, always teasing so many somethings without saying anything directly. And sometimes whispered somethings led to somewheres - like the bed of a shitty inn for the night or a tent deep in the woods... or that alley behind that diner that one time.

"It's okay to give yourself some slack, you know," Levy's voice dragged him unwillingly out of his thoughts. "Sure, you didn't catch him. But you saved twelve kids and stopped more from being kidnapped. That's an accomplishment, too!"

Gajeel rolled his eyes. He 'hasn't been himself'... tch, yeah - 'cause he's been getting regularly fuckin' laid! He wanted to brag and practically had to bite his tongue to force himself not to.

"I don't really care that much about catching him," he half-lied. He did want to catch Cobra - to keep chasing and catching him, over and over - he just didn't want to arrest the poison dragon. "I ain't beating myself up over that. I've- Look. It's somethin' else, okay?"

The short bluenette blinked her surprise at him before her mouth widened into a smirk. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay," she said, pretending to go back to her own stack of reports. "I thought you might have been upset about the Cobra situation. But from that reaction, I'd almost guess you were seeing someone."

Gajeel forced a scowl in an attempt to squash the heat rising to his face. "So? Even if I was - and I'm not sayin' I am - it's not a fuckin' crime." Except that in his case, it most certainly was. He snorted indignantly. "I didn't bother you half this much when you an' cosplay girl went away on that gal-pal trip to that couples-only hotspring."

Levy's eyebrows immediately arched at that. "Gajeel, you sent me a text message that contained a book, a bunny, and a scissor emoji. Fourteen times." She shook her head. "Lucy saw it and almost passed out from embarrassment because she doesn't know what a kind, supportive asshole you are."

He spluttered. "Don't remember, didn't happen."

"If you ever start dating someone, just know I'm going to have my revenge. Tenfold."

TWUNNNG.

The sound of a lone, reverberating guitar string being plucked played as his lacriphone buzzed in his pocket. (With his tough skin, he couldn't always feel when his phone vibrated. When he had first started using it, he had the notification sound set to an annoyed cat's meow, but Pantherlily refused to go out on missions with him if he didn't have his phone set to silent. Reluctantly, he'd change it to a guitar twang to appease his friend.)

The lock screen showed he had two messages from a number he didn't recognize.

The first message was an image. Taken from a bathtub... his bathtub! In his house! A leg - warm chestnut skin dripping wet as soap streaked down the exposed, toned thigh - casually hung over the side of his bathtub, suds and the shimmer of the overhead light on the water obscuring anything more tantalizing lurking below.

Light, faint purpling could be seen on the inner flesh of the thigh, and Gajeel's mouth went half-dry at the memory of suckling and pinching the soft skin there between his fangs.

The second message flat-out taunted Gajeel: [You should really learn to lock your doors, Mr. Councilman... who knows what kind of criminal could break in?]

Gajeel could practically feel the blood rushing from his rapidly blanking mind to somewhere much, much lower. He managed to hold back the approving, dragonish purr that threatened to rumble from his very core.

"So you are seeing someone," Levy troublesomely commented over Gajeel's shoulder, causing Gajeel to jolt and nearly fumble his phone onto the floor. That sneaky little shrimp! When the fuck did she even get there?! "You know, you don't have to hide it, we're friends. Who is she?"

Right. The pic was only of a leg. (And it was a fuckin' nice leg, the guy had a great pair of them with a perfect, shapely ass to match.) All Levy had seen was a leg. Sent from a burner phone, not that she'd know that just from the quick peek. Nothing identifiable.

Taking a few calming breaths, Gajeel grit his fangs in a friendly yet dismissive frown. "It's a he, Shrimpy. Don't go makin' assumptions 'bout who I bed." Despite how they picked on each other, she was his friend, and he'd toss her that one bone. "And he would prefer if my work life didn't go poking into our personal life. As a matter of fact, so would I."

Levy feigned thought for a moment. But the teasing, troublesome glint in her eyes remained. "You mean to tell me that he doesn't want to be seen with a grown man that collects Hello Kitten merchandise and refuses to lock his own front door?"

________________________

It was impossible to ignore the other male's scent in his home, warmly dampened by a recent bath. Gajeel tossed his uniform coat on the hook by the door and kicked his boots off in a hurry. The scent carried into the kitchen, where it was obvious a certain home invader had definitely helped himself to the contents of Gajeel's fridge, and he followed it to the living room and to who he knew was waiting there for him.

Gajeel knew who he was dealing with by now: Cobra went where he pleased, when he pleased. Nothing could hold him in one place for long and, knowing how much Cobra valued his freedom, Gajeel didn't care to try. Besides... the redhead was just as enticing whether he was standing in front of him or walking away - neither was a bad view.

And it wasn't a bad view that waited for him at all.

Freshly bathed and stretching the length of the couch lounged a certain redheaded poison dragon. His hair was still damp and… and Gajeel had to blink a few times, because Cobra was wearing his clothes: a loose black t-shirt and pair of gray sweatpants, both a little big on his lithe frame.

"What," the lounging elf playfully sneered, "Did you stop for flowers?"

Gajeel crossed the space between them in two strides and practically dove into the arms of the smaller man. Their mouths met and the battle for dominance began. And Cobra pulled, fought back in their embrace; he didn't lay there passively. Cobra was flexible and could move with ease, but Gajeel had more mass on his side and used it to his advantage as he rolled them both off the couch and onto the carpet.

He managed to pin Cobra beneath him, settling his hips between Cobra's legs, and almost losing all rational thought as he rutted against him.

The iron dragon's lips parted as a husky growl rumbled from his throat and slipped out past his fangs: "So ya broke in, used all my hot water, stole my clothes, and cleaned out my fridge? And you expect me to let you get away with that for free?"

Gajeel was far from mad. Cobra being in his house, seeing Cobra wearing his clothes, knowing his mate was sated by food he provided - it was all pulling right at that primal, possessive side of him in all the right ways.

"Not breaking in if you don't lock your doors," Cobra replied cooly. "You were practically asking for it."

Gajeel wanted to fuck him through the goddamn floor right there and then.

"Let's play a game," Cobra said, mouth still so close that their lips brushed with each word, single violet eye glinting up at the man above him.

"Yeah? Since when do you wanna play games...?"

Smirking, Cobra pulled back, knowing just how to egg Gajeel on: "If you're afraid you'll lose, I could always-"

Gajeel silenced him with a kiss, pressing him firmly against the floor with his body. "I like winning games," he rumbled, "'Specially against you."

"If I can pin you to the couch, I get to fuck you," Cobra explained the first part of the game.

The iron dragon immediately perked to attention. He loved when Cobra spoke dirty, and loved the sound of this game - just as much as Cobra knew he would. "That sounds kinda one-sided," he said, though he shifted his weight in anticipation anyways.

"Let me finish," the redhead scolded him, enjoying the way Gajeel's breath hitched as he pressed himself flush against him. Cobra's hand slid between them, sliding down, and his palm paid special, gripping attention to a growing bulge in Gajeel's pants. "If you can get me upstairs, you can tie me to the bed and do whatever you want to me."

Gajeel clenched his eyes shut as Cobra's hand squeezed suddenly, firmly, as a faint groan escaped him. "Really, you're s-sure?"

"Yeah," Cobra confirmed. It hadn't been too long ago that the thought of being tied up and fucked would have made him recoil, but he trusted Gajeel. He knew Gajeel had a thing for bondage and trusted him to not take things too far - and Gajeel wanted to show him that trust was not misplaced.

Iron claws surfaced and flexed, hungry fangs peeked out of Gajeel's mouth in barely contained urge. "Funny, you gave yourself the closer spot."

"You've got more muscle on your side."

"You've got fancy ears, you know what I'm gonna do," Gajeel pointed out.

Cobra gingerly traced a finger down Gajeel's jaw, fangs glinting in a devilish little grin. "When's that ever stopped you...?"

________________________

"Hn?" Gajeel cocked a studded brow, noting how easily his fingers had gone in.

The tied-up redhead under him still somehow managed to scrape up enough cockiness in his voice: "I was ready for either of us to win tonight."

"Ya mean ta tell me that you were up here pleasing yerself in MY bed and you just let me sit at my desk ALL FUCKEN DAY?!"

[simping4ukai]

how i think hq characters would be on snap! pt1? idk let me know if you want a part 2! this is just what i think so it’s okay if you see them differently :)

ukai- he’s had a snap account since before it was cool tbh. the kids tried to introduce him to it without realizing that their coach had been on there for a few years, and you honestly wouldn’t know he had been because his snap score isn’t very high. doesn’t post much on his story, maybe if he travels, but that’s it. doesn’t have his own private snap story, but honestly enjoys watching everyone else’s. also will never swipe up and reply to your story. he only adds the karasuno boys once they’ve graduated, wouldn’t even add hinata back when he added his coach the morning of his graduation, he waited until the ceremony was over.

tanaka- still sends streaks but not boring streaks. it’s probably him and his friends messing around at practice, dumb pictures he takes of himself with random filters, a video of hinata sleeping in class, etc. surprisingly good at keeping streaks, they’re all at least 200 days. posts on his main story at least once a week, definitely the kind of guy to post about game day and making sure people come out and support the team. saeko recorded her waxing his legs on his main story because he lost a bet but she lied and said it was his private. he nearly cried when he saw that kiyoko viewed his story and saw him yelling and tearing up :’)

noya- definitely posted himself doing rolling thunder, at least a few times. actually, it’s almost routine at this point for him to give his phone to hinata and make him record it for his story. you can 100% hear hinata hyping him up in the background. also posts whenever he gets his hair dyed or has a good outfit, definitely captioned with something about “this drip” or “the fit”. has a private for when he and asahi hang out because asahi felt anxious about having so many people see him on noya’s main, because short king has a lot of snap contacts! goes through his quick add daily, always adding new people and will either snap back in 2 seconds or in a week. there is no in between.

tsukki- has a snap, but never posts on his story. not even for nationals. doesn’t have a private. he also only has 20 people on snap, and even his brother barely made the cut. he also really doesn’t watch people’s stories. you would think it’s because he doesn’t care, but he would actually rather have people tell him about stuff in person, plus social media is meant to only capture the good moments. he doesn’t care that much about too many people, but he also appreciates when people are genuine. he will snap back yams decently fast, but that’s about it. has the third years on snap, but refuses to add anyone else from the group chat. adds hinata and kags back after 3 years, and almost immediately regrets it.

oikawa- has so many snapchat notifications that it’s not even funny. girls are always adding him and snapping him, but he’s one of those people who doesn’t add back so you end up subscribed to his story. posts occasionally on his main, not an obnoxious amount, but if he’s out, looks good, or sees a nice sunset. okay, so at least three times a week. but that’s nothing compared to his private story. there are always at least 20 snaps on his private, and every day is different. the kind of person to vlog about things, whether it be him ranting about how the store was out of milk bread or recording himself annoying iwa. the guys on the team clown him, but he’s a big reason why their team gc stayed alive even after they graduated. doesn’t watch other people’s stories that often and doesn’t do streaks unless they’re accidents, because this man is busy being successful as he should be.

suna- honestly didn’t even have a bitmoji until recently and even then he barely changed anything except his hair and his clothes. will open your snap and not reply, or give a 1-2 word answer. doesn’t really care about posting, but if someone else takes his phone to post on his story then he really doesn’t mind. generally unbothered, doesn’t reply to people’s stories and doesn’t reply to anyone’s replies to his stories either. will purposefully leave people on read because he knows it annoys them lol oops. i see him as more of a reddit user tbh he just gives me those vibes.

tendou- posts almost daily on his story but it’s usually something cute or interesting! adds back everyone who adds him, and is really good about snapping people back within the hour. will usually reply to someone’s story with something positive, loves to give compliments! the occasional selfie with ushijima, especially on game days. 100% posts himself baking idk he strikes me as the type who would enjoy baking. doesn’t have a private because he’d rather just send those snaps to people directly. changes his bitmojis clothes with the season.

[newcaptainofsquad9]

Overlay Me In Your Heart~Park Jimin x black! fem! reader {1}

Summary: After embarrassing yourself at your local arcade in front of popular, dance major (not to mention your school girl crush) Park Jimin, you seek advice on how to approach him, which is more than encouraged by your friends. Little did you know that Instagram would be the gateway, however once Jimin follows back, you can’t help but freeze at the realization. Can you manage to break through the constant filters and say-sos about Jimin to get to see him as a genuine person? And as a potential friend and eventual lover?      

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy, College AU, Slice of life, Smut(in later parts)

Word Count: 1, 839

Author’s Note: More Jimin because why not? (I know I’m biased) Also! My other Jimin fic, Mr. Flirt is on hiatus at the moment, I’m sorry if any of you guys really wanted me to continue that, I’m not really getting anything out of that fic at the moment. If you guys have any BTS or EXO requests send them my way! Hope ya’ll enjoy!

The first time I saw Jimin I thought he wasn’t real, like he was a model that stepped from the pages of Vogue. He doesn’t model, at least that’s what his best friend, Kim Taehyung told me when I asked him one afternoon in our Literature class. I wanted to ask him more about Jimin, yet I held back and saved it for Jungkook, who lives in the same building as I do and goes to Purple Bullet Arcade during the weekend too. That’s where I first saw Jimin, then and there as I lost all function: my eyes remained on his silver hair, white leather jacket, designer shirt and dark jeans that brought out the toned definition of his muscles extremely well.  

The Tekken round I was in the middle of was over once my attention got captured, leading Jungkook to make a comeback from his magic pixel of life. His guttural cry of victory broke me from my hypnotic fixation as both my eyes along with Jimin’s traveled over. 

“Finally!” Jungkook roared, “I beat you!”

I frowned as he continued to jump with glee, dancing like a goof without a care in the world. He stopped abruptly, eyes moved past me once I felt someone’s presence behind me.

“Hey Jimin!” he greeted. 

I turned, met Jimin’s smoldering dark brown eyes and froze. 

“Hey Kook,” he said, “you must be the one he beat, ah?”

“Ah, I’m I-I’m Y/N,” I said, “s-sorry I gotta go!”

  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Real smooth,” my best friend Denise says, “why’d you scurry out like a mouse?”

I cast my eyes down as I take in a sip of my vanilla latte. Magic Bean Cafe on campus makes the best, and it isn’t crowded on Fridays when Denise and I catch up. We also get to talk as loud as we want without anyone throwing looks our way, which is quite liberating especially after an 11 a.m lit class. 

“Um, you didn’t answer my question,” Denise presses as she leans across the table with a serious eye, “why were you so scary with Jimin?”

“Why wouldn’t I have been scared?” I counter, “Jimin is super intimating, he’s crazy gorgeous, popular as hell and he’s got like over a thousand followers, right?”

Denise shakes her head.

“Try half a mill and counting,” she says, “did you know he used to dance professionally in Busan before transferring here?”

“No,” I groan, “telling me that won’t help me.”

“Uh, yeah it will dude,” Denise notes, “most of his classes are in the liberal arts building and that’s where yours is as well so talk to him.”

I narrow my eyes at her. Did she not just hear what the hell just happened when I encountered him at the arcade?

“That’s easier said than done,” I say.

“Look, Jimin is super nice and I think you guys would hit it off,” she says, “Jin’s friends with him, along with Namjoon.”

Hearing her mention Jin makes me change the subject swiftly. 

“Jin eh?” I ask, “so how have things been with Jin, you guys make it official or what?”  

Denise scrambles a bit in her chair, attempting to play with her blue streaked braids as she struggles to find the words.

“We’re uh-”

She’s cut off by a sudden noise. 

“Your cheesy stuffed pretzel is ready!”

We both turn toward the counter of the coffee shop to see Jin in his well fitted white chefs apron and hat, posed elegantly on top of the counter with a plate that holds the said cheesy stuffed pretzel. 

I turn back to Denise who already has her head down on the table. Jin steps over to us with a model waiter stance: standing posed with his chin up and arm around his back.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets before turning back to Denise, “your snack Jagiya.”

I raise an eyebrow at the pet name.

“Jagiya, huh?”

Denise raises her head back up. 

“Yeah we are official,” she says, “kinda.”

Jin frowns. 

“Kinda?” he asks. 

Denise changes her tune quickly at Jin’s saddened tone.

“We are, we are,” she reassures, “it’s just a little embarrassing how you spoil me sometimes.”

“That’s because I want to,” he says, “now eat your pretzel Jagi.”

Denise rips off a piece prior to nudging the plate toward me. 

“Want a piece?” she asks.

I start to nod, yet Jin cuts me off.

“I can get her one! That one is for you to enjoy!” he scolds.

Denise rolls her eyes. 

“Jin, if you don’t.”

I chuckle at their apparent lovers quarrel. 

“Should I leave before the both of you start making out?” I joke. 

“No, wait!” Denise urges, “now that we got Jin here, he can tell you that Jimin is totally cool, right?”

I look to Jin who nods as he pulls up a chair to sit next to Denise. 

“Yeah, he’ll like you Y/N, you’re cool,” he explains, “wait, did you tell her about his Instagram?”

I grit my teeth as Denise nods.

“Yeah, what of it?”

“I wouldn’t go too much into that when you first talk to him,” Jin says, “he says a lot of American women are stunned by his amazing filters or whatever, I don’t know it word for word, but just try breaking the ice with something else!”

“Ok,” I say, “what would you suggest?”

Jin tilts his head. 

“Maybe dance?” he suggests, “that’s what he’s studying-”

“Or!” Denise growls, interrupting Jin, “you could be yourself and talk about gaming, take him to the Purple Bullet Arcade! You’re always there with Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but how would I know if I’m Jimin’s type?” I ask.

Jin tilts his head in confusion. 

“Eh! I already said he’ll probably like you!” he groans.

Denise nudges him in the ribs.

“Not what she meant,” she says, “she means black girls like us.”

Jin’s eyes widens but nods. It seems like that already had some sort of talk. Good. 

“Look Y/N, Taehyung always hangs out with the black frat guys and I think he dated a girl from the Step team,” she notes, “and Namjoon practically can’t keep his eyes away from the black women on this campus and I’m sure Jungkook-”

“Ok, I get it!” I say, “that’s Jimin’s company, but what about him?”

“I can’t tell for sure,” she says, “but the best thing to do would be to talk to him.”

I can only nod as the words get hammered into my head.

   ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Denise’s words, along with Jimin didn’t leave my mind as I sprawled over my messy, paper infested bed. I’m supposed to be reading Pride and Prejudice for my literature class, yet here I am scrolling through Instagram and absentmindedly liking my friend’s posts. 

Jungkook’s recent photo, he’s in front of the Purple Bullet Arcade.He’s dressed in a black hoodie and a beanie with the with one of his sleeves rolled up to show off his impressive muscle. The caption under the picture read: never skip biceps day or half off tokens day at the Purple Bullet Arcade! I mentally roll my eyes, but he’s shouting out the arcade. I got to like for that.

Namjoon’s photo comes next, he’s in a green cardigan with his glasses hanging on the edge of his nose and an open book in front of him. It looks like he’s in the Magic Bean Cafe. Of Course Jin would allow Namjoon to use it as his personal photo-shooting area, being that his parents founded the cafe and that they’re close friends. The caption under Namjoon’s picture read: finals are coming up guys don’t get too caffeinated and keep your heads in your textbooks!  At this point Namjoon is just asking to get roasted. That’s exactly what Yoongi did, another mutual friend of me and Denise.

His response was: no body looks that clean cut while studying, please take your prep school lookin ass back to the library!

It’s difficult not to hold in the laughter as my finger presses the heart to like the comment along with the post. For a good roast and roasting material. I continue to scroll until find Taehyung’s recent post and freeze. 

Taehyung looked flawless as always in his Gucci shirt and black slacks, yet he’s not alone in this one. He’s pictured with his arms around Jimin and Hoseok, both of them wearing baggy sweats and hats with matching logos. The caption under it read: just watched my bestie and his amazing dance partner practice, they’re gonna own this performance next month!  

I like it, of course, along with Hoseok’s comment with hearts and Jimin’s own with multiple smiley faces. My fingers don’t continue my pattern of scrolling however as my thumb hovers over Jimin’s username: ParkJimin_95.

I know Jin said not to bring up Instagram, but he didn’t say not to look at it when I’m alone. I click on his page before I over think  it, instantly regretting soon after.

I remain on his page a bit longer than I expected, fascinated by how stunning he is. The most recent pictures of him has him sporting his familiar silver hair, but his older pictures show him with various different colors: blue, pink, red, orange and black with different filters as well. I quickly scroll back, my heart skipping a beat once I realized that I accidentally followed him. Shit. 

I go to close the app, yet someone’s typing at me. My panic clears a bit once I realize it’s Namjoon. 

Namjoon: Get off instagram and study!

I roll my eyes.

Me: I was taking a break Joon.

Namjoon’s typing again. 

Namjoon: Oh ok, don’t stay on here too long!

Who’s mother does he think he is? No, I shouldn’t roast him, Yoongi already did that for me. Instead I answer back calmly.

Me: Sure mom!

Namjoon doesn’t respond back, good. Another notification pops up for me however and I click to see what it is. 

The notification read: ParkJimin_95 started following you. 

My thumb immediately finds the home button before I place my phone back onto my bed with it’s screen face down. Jimin, Park Jimin just followed me back. Maybe Namjoon is right, I should get back to studying. 

Just looking at Jane Austen’s bored expression on the back of my novel doesn’t get my brain’s wheels turning back towards the productive. Instead I gather up my phone again, it lit it up more Instagram messages: one from Jimin and one from Namjoon.

I ignore the one from Namjoon for now, because I don’t have time to be scolded and peek at the one Jimin sent me.

Jimin: Hey! I remember you from the arcade! So, you’re the infamous Y/N that beat Jungkook all the time.

I stare at the message for a moment, carefully put my phone into sleep mode and not open the message fully to leave him on read.

Maybe Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy can help me get my mind straight after all, cause I can’t seem to respond. At least not right now. 

Fin~Part I

[mel-the-fangirl]

Snapshot - Requested

Harry Holland x Reader

Words: 2,576

Requested by: anonymous (You’ve been waiting for this for such a long time and I am really sorry.)

“a harry x reader fic where ur friends and u were crying and for some reason he took a picture and posted it without your permission and u get a lot of hate about it and u find out about the pic while with harry and u get really upset about with him and make him leave your trailer (can you be a part of the SM:HC cast?) and he feels really really bad so he comes back later to apologise and he finds u cryin and sobbing in ur trailer bc of the hate and he comforts you and cuddles and hugs?”

Hello!!! I have another week off so I’m kinda taking it easy since school has been really tough lately. I’ll try and post as often as I can. Oh, and also I really want to thank everyone because I know I haven’t been so active lately and instead of losing followers like I expected I would, I’m actually gaining them and honestly, thank you all so much!!! I hope you like this one! xx

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Your first big break, so to speak, and it was going to be on what was predicted to be this year’s biggest superhero film,

Spider-man: Homecoming.

It was luck, or divine intervention, or good karma, or whatever the hell you wanted to call it. Imagine it though, you had auditioned so many times, along with hundreds of different, more qualified people but you were the one who got a call back and you were casted!

Being a huge fan of both the comics and the cinematic universe, it was such an honour to get any role on this film. You were cast as Betty Brant, one of Midtown Tech’s smartest, most popular girls and best friends with Liz Allen, Peter Parker’s love interest. Although you didn’t have as many lines or scenes as you would have liked, you were beyond grateful and excited for everything to happen.

It was only a few days since filming officially started but a bond was immediately formed between everyone, the importance of everyone’s roles or how big of a star they were didn't matter. You were all just kids having an extraordinary time.

On one of your lunch breaks, you found yourself huddled in your trailer that you shared with another actress on the film who played one of the decathlon kids, but since she had a scene to shoot, you were left to your own devices.

You were supposed to be memorising your lines for later but the film playing on TV won your attention.

With your knees hugged close to your chest, tears dropped onto the blanket you had draped over yourself. You just couldn't wrap your head around the concept of why there were some films that revolved around dogs or any other animals dying.

Marley and Me was one such film. Onscreen, Owen Wilson’s family were beginning to say their goodbyes to their beloved Labrador and at that point you were already desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Good bye, clearance puppy.” Jennifer Aniston tearfully uttered

With that, you were a goner.

The overflowing dam of tears you’d worked so hard to hold together finally broke wide open, unleashing streaks of white hot tears upon your red cheeks.

“Stupid, stupid film.” you muttered, wiping at the corners of your eyes angrily

Unbeknownst to you, the door to trailer was slightly ajar, with one Harry Holland sneakily snapping pictures of you while you cried with everything you had. Without your consent, he posted the photo on his Instagram for his thousands of followers to see.

“Didn’t know she was a weeper.” Harry captioned the photo and immediately tucked his phone back into his pocket

“Y/N?” he proceeded to knock, feigning innocence

The credits have been rolling for a good five minutes but you were still in tears and you just let them roll down your cheeks. You didn’t have to hide from Harry. The two of you became best buds in such a short time, since you were both around the same age.

As he approached you, he started to feel a little bad about posting your picture, but that didn’t mean he was going to fess up right then. He took the seat next to you and offered you his jacket sleeve to blow your nose on. If it were any other day, you would’ve given him a funny look, why would he want your snot all over his sleeve?

But since you were highly emotional and Harry was feeling guilty, you took his sleeve and he let you. You blew your nose, hard, complete with comical honking noises. Harry winced but said nothing, he turned his attention to the TV still rolling credits.

“I'm guessing that's what got you crying?” he asked, wondering what film it could've been

“It was a horrible film, Harry. Like…” you trailed off, grabbing his sleeve once again

He recoiled from your grabby hands and took his jacket off, handing it to you with a sheepish smile.

“And what film would that be, love?”

“Marley and Me.” you replied, blowing your nose again

Harry tried, I mean he really tried not laugh but it failed miserably. He let out a big laugh that was short-lived once he saw the expression on your face, that’s when he thought it wise to shut his mouth.

“Thought so.” you muttered, grabbing your phone to raise it to your face so you could see the damage done

Harry felt his heart rate pick up. All of a sudden he didn’t want you to see what he did, because he had a feeling you wouldn’t be laughing with him.

As if God had tuned in directly to his line of thought, he heard you say,

“Shit. My phone’s dead.”

You rushed out of your seat to plug your phone in, also catching a glimpse at the wall clock.

“Shit! Harry, I’ve gotta get to hair and make-up. I’ll catch up with you later.”

The door shut behind you and Harry breathed out a sigh of relief, he definitely had to take that picture down before you saw it. And that’s what he did, he took the picture down in seconds, it only lasted on his page for a solid twenty minutes.

But, alas, this was the internet and twenty minutes was just enough for everyone to see it and give out their opinions that no one asked for. It’s just a shame that Harry kept his phone too quickly, not even stopping to check on the numerous notifications that popped up since he posted your picture.

That wasn’t the issue though, the problem was what was on your phone, Harry glanced at it as it harmlessly rested on one of the counters. He didn’t have the chance to check on it as Tom walked inside the trailer.

“Y/N told me I’d find you here.” Tom smirked, crossing his arms over his chest

That snarky look on his older brother’s face would’ve ticked him off if he wasn’t so distracted.

“What?” Harry asked, trying to get around to your phone. Tom immediately noticed this.

“Oh, oh, hey.” Tom swung around and swiftly grabbed your phone, out of Harry’s reach

“Rule number one, mate. Never touch a girl’s phone without her permission.” he held your phone behind his back, expertly dodging his younger brother’s attempt at snatching it away

“Tom, wait-”

“You just leave it alone. Now come on. I need something to eat, catering’s down.” Tom grabbed Harry by the shoulders and steered him out your trailer door, despite his blubbering protests.

Harry gave your phone one last hopeless look before heading out with his annoying older brother.

“Y/N! That was great! Thank you, I think you’re done for the day.”

You gave Laura and Jon a hug before dutifully retiring to your trailer. Maybe one of the upsides to having a small role was that you got to head home before everyone else, actually, scratch that, it was definitely one of the upsides. Tom was always whining like the boy man child he was, about how exhausted the whole thing was for him.

You stretched your arms above your head as you walked through the lot, wondering what the rest of the day had in store for you. Your trailer was just how you left it earlier, your phone was still plugged into the socket.

You were just about to turn it back on when Harry came bursting through the door.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, like he’d just caught you with your hand in the cookie jar

“Well, hello to you too, Harry.” you greeted him, regarding him cautiously. He looked a little shaken up.

Harry took a step towards you as you placed your finger on your phone’s power button, you eyed him warily. Just to test your theory, you lifted your finger from the button and placed it back, making him take another step towards you.

“Okay. What’s going on here?”

“Nothing! Nothing! What’s going on, Y/N?”

“What?”

The two of you shared confused looks then you burst out laughing.

“Harry, you are so weird!” you told him, finally powering on your phone

“Wait, Y/N. Uh, maybe-”

You held up a finger to silence him as you began to scroll through your hundreds of Instagram notifications. It was strange, you’ve never gotten this many in like, ever. Maybe you did, once when you posted that selfie with Zendaya and Tom the very first day of filming but that was a few days ago, what could all this be about?

Reading each comment carefully, you were shocked to see so many people you didn’t know saying such hurtful things about you. Most of them didn’t make any sense but the ones that did and the ones that were very eloquent in stating their hatred for you brought tears to your eyes.

Harry audibly gulped, he wrung his hands together in an attempt to curb his discomfort.

“What, what is this?” you shakily muttered, sniffling as you quickly swiped down, trying to get to the photo that everyone was hating on you for.

When you finally got to the top, you were shocked to see a picture from earlier today, with you sitting on your trailer couch, bawling your eyes out in front of the TV. You slowly lifted your gaze to Harry, and your eyes began to burn with anger.

“Why would you post this?!” you yelled, thrusting your phone towards him

He didn’t get the chance to pry it out of your hands as you began scrolling through the comments again.

“I took it down, Y/N. I’m sure I did.” Harry said in his defense

“‘What right does she have to be crying like that when she gets to hang out with Tom and Harry. What an ungrateful bitch.’” you read out one of the comments for Harry to hear

“‘What an ugly dumb ass hoe’?” your voice rose an octave higher. You just could not for the life of you find out why these people were being so cruel.

“Please just stop reading, Y/N. I don’t want to hear any more.” Harry said, running a hand down his face

“You don’t want to hear it anymore?!”

The fucking nerve of him to say that! This was his doing! This was his idiocy at work!

“Why the hell would you even do this, Harry?! I just, I don’t get it!” you yelled, tightening your grip on your phone, you wanted to chuck it at him

Harry was at a loss. He couldn’t muster up the courage to answer your questions, mostly because he didn’t really have a good reason. He just wanted to have a bit of fun with you, it just.. Backfired. Horribly.

“I am really sorry, Y/N. I am so so sorry. I didn’t know people were going to react like this. Y/N, please, I am so sorry. I-”

“Leave.” you cut him off, feeling like you were going to lose your head if he didn’t leave you alone.

“Y/N, come on. Just-”

“Harry, please go. Now.”

The steely look in your eyes made his heart plummet to the floor as he began to walk to the door. Harry had to do what you said. It was all his fault, it was the least he could do now. He stepped out into the bright afternoon, and he bumped right into Tom.

“What have you gone and done now, Harry?” Tom asked, scrolling down on his phone. Looking at all the hate you got, no doubt.

“Not now, Tom.” Harry grumbled, leaning against the walls of your trailer

Tom looked at his brother incredulously, “You’re bloody right, not now, you arse. Get in there and apologise!”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

“Well, I don’t blame her! What the fuck were you thinking posting her picture like that?”

Harry definitely wasn’t feeling the big brother hat Tom was wearing right now. He knew he was in deep shit with you and he knew he needed to apologise.

“I wasn’t thinking! Alright! That’s what you want to hear and that’s the fucking truth. I’m an arse, I know!” he snapped, rubbing his temples

“Right. Well, it’s good that you know. Now go and do something about it. Apologise.” Tom yanked your trailer door open and shoved Harry inside

You heard a dull thud from where you stood inside the bathroom. You ignored it and clutched the edge of the sink tightly, knuckles almost turning white.

“Deep breaths, deep breaths.” you chanted to yourself, trying to hold yourself together

It wasn’t very helpful though. Tears were still making their way down your cheeks, you really wished that you hadn’t read all of those comments. You really fucking wished Harry wasn’t such an idiot.

“Y/N?”

Speak of the camera-wielding devil. A tired sigh left your lips as you turned to face him, you kept one hand on the sink for support.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave?”

Guilt once again knocked into Harry’s senses, stronger this time. The skin near your eyes was red  from how harshly you had wiped your tears away but more was still coming. Harry cleared his throat and tried his best to efficiently verbalise what he needed to say.

“You did but I need to apologise, Y/N. What I did was stupid, and insensitive, and senseless. And I’m an idiot.” he hastily added that last part

You definitely agreed with him, nodding your head for him to continue.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. Please forgive me. I’ll get down on my knees if it would make you feel better.” Harry pleaded with you, his eyes desperately searching yours for any sign of forgiveness

You regarded him apprehensively. The whole thing really brought you down, even though it was ridiculous to listen to the famed “keyboard warriors.” You were new at this, and it was going to take some time for you to fully get over your so-called “haters.”

“Help me to the couch please? I’m feeling shaky.” you extended your hand out to him without letting go of the sink

Harry took your hand in his and his gentle touch brought a sense of calm to you, even though he was the root of all of this. He guided you gently to the couch and draped a blanket over you.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the space next to you

“Sure.”

As he sat down, you found yourself inching toward the heat that radiated off him, all the crying made you cold somehow.

“May I?” Harry asked again, extending his arms towards you

The fucker was being too cute. You rolled your eyes at him but nodded anyway and it turned out to be the right call. Warmth began to seep through your body and you nuzzled your head into his chest appreciatively.

“I’m really sorry, okay? I will never ever do that ever again.” Harry whispered to you, running his fingers along the length of your back

“The only pictures you’re posting of me next time are extremely flattering selfies, do you understand me?” you looked up at him pointedly

Harry nodded earnestly and placed a quick kiss on the tip of your nose, much to your surprise. You stared at him in shock but he just smiled at you cheekily.

“Yes, ma’am.”

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permanent taglist: @theholyholland, @optimisticbee, @johnxstilinski, @lyssamorgan, @osterfield-holland, @planet-holland-writing, @draqcnheartstrinq, @leahhensonx, @nativeofsouthwestlondon-darling, @twong2001, @cubedtriangle, @sebenagomez, @aussie-mantle

(please message me if you’d like to be added!)

[girltomboy]

My boyfriend ruined my entire fucking day and I'm not even exaggerating. He called me in the morning while I was asleep, I called him back when I woke up and then we just chatted until like 12pm when he had a class. After this he called me again around 1.30 or 2pm or so, and asked me to open my laptop and play with him. I was like wow ok. In the meantime, as I was waiting for my laptop to open, we had a mini-argument about the fact that he doesn't like my comments when I tag him in shit. It sounds super pathetically small and insignificant, but he says "I never like anything" and it's absolutely not true cause I saw that he likes random posts and even other people's posts :) other girls' even :) so I'm like it's not that hard and it tells me you've seen the post. He still wouldn't understand why it's important to me, and I legit couldn't believe that we had to turn the whole thing into a small argument for a fucking like button.

Anyway, we started playing and he played like 2 games with me before he said let's go on discord (nobody was there) and play with the others (nobody was there). I was like ok?? So our friends joined us one by one and we played a few games together. We were on a loss streak, and after one of them my bf straight up closed the game and left discord. Everyone else was like what happened where is *?? I saw that he was still connected to discord just off the server, so I messaged him there, thinking maybe his laptop blue screened or something. A minute later he was off discord for good, and he was not answering my texts either. At this point my friends had left the game too and one of them had gone to eat, so I left the server too and called my bf. He answered and said he was just playing another game. I asked why he didn't answer my discord message when he was online, he said he didn't see it. I didn't mention the notification sound or whatever, but I asked him why he just left without saying anything. He said he wasn't hearing anything anymore on discord, and he just left the server altogether since he wasn't playing anymore. I kept asking him why he didn't at least connect again to say he was off, or at least answer my texts or tell me he was gone. He literally did not answer any of these Qs and I was just getting realllllllly fucking tired of his BS because it was so obvious he left bc he didn't want to play with me anymore. And he wouldn't even fucking talk to me!!!!!!! That's what really exasperated me!!! I literally stopped saying anything and so did he, a few minutes later he was like "I kinda wanna go back to playing though". I was like "so you don't want me to join, right?" He said "yeah that's it". I was silent at this point and he said "do you wanna say anything else? I feel like you want to say something" and I said "no" and just hung up. Immediately afterwards he texts me like "I don't understand why you're upset that I want to play with you less than I want to play with the others" UMM because you literally always do this??? There has not been a single time where you spent one day playing with me, but see nothing wrong with doing that literally all the fucking time when you play with the others. And you were the one who wanted to play now, then all of a sudden you leave and actually leave me on the outside??!?!?@? Even though I still wanted to play. And you didn't fucking say anything, just left. Fuck off I was so enraged, and he kept trying to shift the topic. Imagine my bf actually wanting to spend time with me, that's crazy. That's nuts bro.

And he continued to play literally the entire afternoon and evening. Called me around 930 or so just because he was eating and not playing anymore. I didn't say shit. He just ate quietly then lay in bed scrolling on his phone ignoring my existence as he often does, then went to bed. So I was once again the boring lullaby that he needed to sleep. And he also didn't even go to sleep, he stayed active on fb and ig for almost 2 other hours. I legit don't want to talk to him, and now that I wrote this post and remembered how he treated me today I'm even more enraged and mad that I even answered the phone at all tonight, I thought he had something of value to say but apparently no. Will I get an apology? Stay tuned. Omg cause last night his mom was making fun of him and I lowkey agreed with her and he got all upset and hurt that I tOoK hEr SiDe, had to apologize for that joke and he went to sleep early. But when he does stupid shit and actually hurts me I have to feel insane for even being upset like whyyyyy am I so upset that my boyfriend literally avoids spending time with me and playing with his fucking girlfriend for more than 2 stupid games a day, I don't understand. And he kept telling me to play alone today like what the fuck is wrong with you? I want to play with people and spend time with my friends and boyfriend, sorry for that! I told him I don't want to, and he kept insisting and asking why, I replied I just don't want to! What, is that not a familiar explanation to you? You use "because I want to" all the time to justify doing things to the point of hurting others and not giving a fuck, because everything revolves around what you want. Like I can't believe how selfish he can be

[what-a-novelty]

Selves, in time

(5.10.20)

Late last night, I received a message from a name I didn't recognize. The notification bubble read,

"Hey Rachel, super random but I just saw this message that has been sitting in my message request box for like the last 7 years??? So sorry I never responded —"

I paused, trying to remember what message my younger self could have sent to a stranger on the internet. Instead of clicking on the message – which would mark it as read, which would make irreversible this confrontation of my past – I instead looked up this unfamiliar name on the internet, trying to guess from who they are now what I could have wanted to do with them all those years ago.

Seven years ago I still lived in Singapore, the city I grew up in, and in my memory I had scant contact with strangers on the internet on Facebook. The mental exercise proved futile.

I braced myself to read the message I sent in 2013:

"Hi <person>! I saw your comments on the post in the <college A> 2017 group regarding <college A>-<college B> cross admits...I'm wondering if you have any idea which school would be better for an (international) student...? I'm really torn between the two schools right now and both seem super awesome, but I can't fly over to the US to attend the admit weekends/<college A> days so I have no idea how to make my decision yikes :\ all help is appreciated THANK YOU :)"

Even now, on my third or fourth read, even after I've decided to share the message above with others in its blatant, barefaced expression, I feel my eyes skip over some of the words. I am reluctant to look at my past self squarely. Temporal distance separates us, and I wonder how I could have been so gauche, so sincere. It strikes me that embarrassment hinges on the perception of others, and is precipitated when, in a moment of self-awareness, I see myself as others see me. Or in this case, I see my past self through new eyes.

The feeling of self-mortification is not unfamiliar to me. I've kept a continuous streak of blogs from the age of 11 until now, and I joined Facebook earlier than I should have. My Goodreads account has traced 10 years of reading history. All that is to say, I have time and again stumbled into my past. Tracks all over the internet evince the evolution of my psyche.

Seeing my nieces' posts on Instagram gives almost the same effect. The people and platforms may have changed, but something feels familiar about the unbridled sentimentality they've afforded to friendship, that immoderate enthusiasm for pop culture, those unself-conscious attempts to memorialize feelings and moments that feel like they may escape us. As was the case for me, I suspect that this fervor correlates little with how long these passions will endure.

But I also recognize that I take their posts out of context: these were not crafted with an audience of older relatives in mind. Their audience of friends, peers, and admirers see them differently than we do. They participate in a conversation we are not privy to. In the same way, when I read the words of my past self, I can no longer hear the chorus of voices around her whose echoes have long died off. Perhaps the multiplicity of facades we erect is the cause of embarrassment: we are caught in the wrong context, with the curtains down. Perhaps the people who look on their past selves without embarrassment are the people whose selves have the most integrity across audiences and spanning time. Or perhaps they are the ones whose audiences never leave. [1]

As for me, things change.

For one, what seemed so uncertain years ago is now part of the irreversible, irrefutable past. In an post on Livejournal dating back to January 2013, I wrote,

I just wanna be somewhere unfamiliar and exciting and experience ~*adventure*~. WHO KNOWS, since I probably won't be studying overseas (or will I...? only time will tell haha sigh) y'know NOW IS THE TIME

This was four months before I made the decision to fly across the Pacific for college.

Retrospectively it feels like I walked only one path, but my old writing reveals a more variegated texture, reminding me that the past that feels so unequivocal now was at some junctures still in doubt, urgent, and insisting on resolution. Do I identify with past me? Can I take on her fears, anxieties, fragile hope? Futures forked endlessly beyond what I could imagine then. With time, we see potentialities collapse into realities.

Friends, hobbies, relationships, values - these too change, and at different tempos. I've had a strange, almost masochistic, addiction to the feeling of starting over for much of my adult life. There's something electrifying about wiping the slate clean, shedding prior associations, beginning again, knowing full well you may never again attain to what peaks you scaled before. Moving across the Pacific. Changing fields of specialization. Quitting jobs. Death and rebirth in its many forms. My adult life has been as much defined by the moments of renewal, of restarts, as it has been about the nondescript days in between that consist most of my hours. [2]

Once, home for winter break, I met up with friends from high school for dinner. Towards the end of a conversation which danced circles around who from our high school was dating whom (a subject I had no interest in), S set down her chopsticks and looked across the table to me. Doe-eyed, she asked, "Rach, do you think you've changed?"

I recall feeling my stomach drop, like she wanted me to say no, I'm still the person you knew before. As if any other response would signify the end of a beatific era of our lives, would make real the ephemerality of everything we held dear. And in spite of that I said, "yes, of course I've changed," followed by a feeble "but it's good change!" when I saw her dismay.

Not that it's possible to categorically pass judgement on something that can take on so many shades and textures. I wonder if the fact that older iterations of me come across as naive and crude means that I've grown, that something fundamental in me has changed. Or is it simply that in these intervening years, I've acquired a sheen of self-consciousness that moderates my intensity and sincerity? Have I become more authentic, or less?

In a past life where I conducted serious inquiries into Christian theology, I often daydreamed idly about the concept of eternity. What does eternity feel like? Would we still move, act, and exist as we know ourselves? People say that God resides outside of time, that to him there is no past, present, and future. So when he judges us, does he do so by a frozen slice chosen capriciously, an integral of our characters over time, or some other method he dreams up to aggregate all our persons? My time-bound mind cannot comprehend it. [3]

Perhaps the residue of these thoughts is why I'm still reluctant to disavow my past self entirely. She feels other than me – she reads different books, she has different friends, she likes and believes different things. But when I read her words I remember again that sincerity...

"How can you even understand it," I would answer, "if the whole world has long since gone off on a different path, and if we consider what is a veritable lie to be the truth, and demand the same lie from others? Here for once in my life I have acted sincerely, and what then? I've become a sort of holy fool for you all, and though you've come to love me, you still laugh at me..."

(BK)

[1] As Sartre said, hell is other people.

[2] You may be unsurprised to learn that Begin Again is the movie I’ve watched the most times.

[3] I recommend Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman, a wonderful and dreamy book about our odd relationship with time.

[queen-karen-3]

We Need To Talk- Jonah Marais

Important authors note below

Warning long imagine ahead!

Jonah Marais

--

"Look, I'm not saying you're repulsive, I'm just saying I can't seem to look at you without thinking of punching you in the face and kick your ass." The tone of your voice was laced with such hatred to your now ex. A coffee table between your bodies. You just caught your boyfriend in bed with your so-called-friend.

"Babe, let me explain." He looked at you with worry written on his face.

"Okay, fine, explain to me why I just walked in on you fucking my friend!" you raised your voice, not caring if your neighbors heard you two fight.

"You spend more time with that precious band of yours than you do with me!" he shouted back.

"I'm their publicist! It's my job!" You shouted back, last time you two fought it was because of your careers high attention demands. You were a very well known publicist to many people. But your most recent client is a new boy band. They were literally the same age as you. You were such a young publicist, but it wasn't strange you had been doing this since basically birth. Your parents being the biggest publicists agency out there in L.A.

"It's always your job! You never make time for me!" He shouted.

"So you go and fuck my friend!? How does that make sense?!" You were beyond pissed. Within the short few months of getting to know the boys, you grew extremely close to them. You do admit you spend more time with them than any other client you have. You have an actual connection with them. They are in your age group. 16-19.

"You cannot stand there and blame me for this! You and I both know you cheated first! I saw you and Jonah kissing! At your 19th birthday party! On the roof. I saw you! He kissed you and you kissed him back!" He had tears falling down his face.

"I didn't kiss him back. he kissed me! I told him I had a boyfriend." You sighed. You can't blame the end of your relationship all on him. You had to take some responsibility.

"Just admit it! You love him more than me!" His face red with anger.

"Fine! Yes! I fell in love with Jonah!" You had never said you loved anyone other than your parents. Whenever Aaron said he loved you, you would say 'me too.' or 'ditto' or sometimes even 'right back atcha' You two had only been together for a few months.

You were both panting. He never actually thought you did have such strong feelings for the band member. He never wanted for it to be true. But here you were, telling him you did love the Why Don't We band member.

"Did you ever even love me?" He whispered. You looked to the ground. Not wanting to deny nor confirm.

"I have to go. I have a meeting with Logan and the boys." You said, wanting to leave this emotionally hard situation.

"Answer me!" He shouted at you, spit flying towards you and landing on the glass table.

"No! I never loved you!" You raised your voice, answering immediately. You grabbed your maverick back pack, cell phone and keys. Walking towards the door.

"When you come back, you will pack your stuff up and leave. I will take your name off the lease tomorrow. And you will never hear from me or see me. Because you're dead to me." He gritted, turning towards to the bedroom.

As you walked to the elevator you pulled your phone out and sent Jonah a quick message.

Me: We need to talk.

Jonah: Okay whats wrong?

read at 8:10 PM

Jonah: Y/N, you have me worried.

Jonah: Y/N whats wrong?

Jonah: Y/N answer me

Jonah: Please?

read at 8:28 PM

Me: I'm on my way to your place

Me: Everything is okay. I promise.

Jonah: OK

Jonah: Drive safely

read at 8:32 PM

When you arrived at the house you walked to the door, the door opening and out comes Jonah. he pulled you into a tight embrace. He sighed as you pulled apart.

"What happened?" He asked, looking into your eyes that he had fallen head over heels for.

"I caught Aaron fucking Dacy in our bed." You stated, not being phased by it. Jonahs worried expression turned imminently to anger in less than 2.5 seconds.

"It's okay though because I did something today I have never done before!" You smiled up at him. His expression switching over to confusion.

"What?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"I finally admitted my true feelings about someone."

"Who? What feelings?" He asked, not wanting to be disappointed but also wanting to be a good friend and hearing you out.

"For you." You paused, his eyes whipping from your feet to your eyes.

"I love you, Jonah. I finally admitted it to myself tonight. Aaron asked me if I loved you and I said I had fa-" Your ranted was interrupted by Jonah's lips crashing into yours. Instantly shutting you up. You leaned into the kiss more. Your hand going to the nape of his neck as his went to your waist, pulling you closer to his body. He tilted his head a little to the right, deepening the kiss. At first, it was sweet and passionate now all you felt was lust. Jonah pulled away before anything else could happen outside in the middle of the driveway.

"I love you too, Y/N. I'm in love with you too." He panted, trying to control his breathing, you both were. Panting like crazy, that kiss took your breath away.

"Good." You smiled up at Jonah, his smile visible from the moon.

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?" He asked, his arms still wrapped around your waist, your hands still in his hair.

"Yes, of course!" You exclaimed, giggling at his smile.

"By the way, I need a place to stay for a while, can I crash here for a couple of days?" You asked, earning a laugh from Jonah.

"Only if you are a little OCD like Jack and Daniel." He laughed, making you giggle as well. "No, I'm just joking. Of course, you can crash here for a bit."

--

Hello, my beautiful people!

It's Karen here! I just finished reading an authors note from one of my favorite WDW imagines book. I feel like I should just post this to let you all know.

I'm here for you.

If you need me, I'm here.

You can DM me and maybe I'll give you my number. Because Wattpad had a terrible system for me for some reason. I don't get notifications for private messages, just emails.

But if you need me for anything I'll be there.

I have a small story time for you.

Since I just randomly said "I'm here for you"

I was diagnosed as a high-risk depressed teenager with a high risk of anxiety and moderate PTSD. In the past four years, I have lost at least 6 people that had some sort of hold on who I am.

I lost a very kind hearted friend my freshman year of high school to a heart condition.

I lost my grandfather my sophomore year in high school to cancer.

I lost my grandmother my junior year to a virus and old age.

I lost a friend that always seemed to be laughing and cracking jokes in my junior year to a bad accident.

I lost another friend who seemed to be smiling almost always, in my senior year to a drug over dosage.

Lastly, I lost one of my best friends who always made it his mission to make me smile a little over a month ago to himself.

My freshmen and sophomore year in high school I was sexually assaulted. By someone I thought was my friend and my best friends, brother. During the same time, without the either one knowing of the other. I almost killed myself on many different occasions. I have so many self-harm scars from then. I couldn't see myself living past 17 years old.

When my 18th birthday came around, I was emotionally and mentally healthier. I didn't see the guys who assaulted me, on a daily basis. One moved away because of school and the other stayed home and went to work. I rarely ever saw him.  

It took a lot of hard work and time to make it but I eventually graduated. I got into a four-year university. I had been on a good streak of not hurting myself. I was genuinely happy.

32 days after my high school graduation, I lost one of the most important people in my life.

One of my best friends, Austin. He lost himself. And so did our class. We all took the news pretty hard. I barely slept. Barely ate. I cried all the time. I met up with his parents and we all just laughed and smiled at memories. We even cried. He left us broken. But we are all leaning on each other. Like our lives depend on it. Because for me, it does. He helped through so much!

And now, he's gone.

50 days later and I still hurt about it. I haven't hurt myself in any way shape or form. In times f need I feel his hand on my back or my shoulder or my arm. And I see his piercing blue eyes. And I just break all over again. But then I come back to reality and I think:

WWAD

What

Would

Austin

Do?

He would try to realize the reason behind why this is happening. And to live life to the fullest, just like he was going to.

I made a promise to him. I would be better in college. I would try and be a better daughter, sister, friend, stranger, author. He made it his mission to not have anyone feel excluded. I am making it my mission to not just think of myself but think of others. If I start something, I'm going through with it. Start thinking happy thought instead of sad suicidal ones.

I admit, every once in a while some suicide thought run through my mind but then I hear his voice in my head.

"You're better than that"

So now,  I'm telling you that if you need anyone to talk to, I'm here. Talk to me. And I will help you to the best of my ability.

This is the first Authors note in here besides the welcome note in the beginning.

If you read this, thank you.

If you didn't well, you wouldn't know.

P.S. I am writing this at like 3 in the morning. Why? I couldn't sleep. I keep feeling Austin here with me. I honestly feel like I'm going crazy, just a little bit.

P.S. PT.2: I seem to be doing a lot of Jonah imagines. Oops. If you want you could DM me some requests. I don't mind

-Karen Oriz

8/29/2017

[michellerps]

Your character reacts to a voicemail they recieve from their ex a few days after the break up//Shay/Olly

re: x 

Just for the record, Shay’s relationship with Olly hadn’t started for insincere reasons. And it hadn’t ended just because he was no longer champion and out with an injury. Not completely, at least. Shay liked Olly. She always had. But with a gentle push from Eliza, she saw that maybe ending things wouldn’t be the worst idea. ‘Dump him and move on’ had been Eliza’s advice, and well, if Eliza was such a mentor to her now, how could she not follow through? Even though, admittedly, Shay had only attached herself to the likes of Eliza and Daphne because of their notoriety and to get in with the top women, she found herself slowly actually liking them both. Sometimes she felt like they actually wanted to help her. So she went along with their silly initiation tasks (those really got her sympathy points from people, so she did them gladly) and she did what they told her. Eliza said dump Olly? She’d do it. There was a part of her already willing to do it, even if the timing truly was awful. 

Shay had known from the start things with him were temporary. As much as she liked him, he was too sweet for her. Maybe they appeared to be a perfect match on the outside, but not so much on the inside. Not that anyone other than her knew that. He was pure. A good soul. Shay had a manipulative streak. She put herself first, always. The fact of the matter was that her relationship with Olly had reached it’s end. She had to keep up her hustle while he was going to be laid up in a hospital, and then stuck home recovering. So sure, she liked him. But she liked herself more. 

She ended it quick, being overly sweet and apologetic, but not beating around the bush. ‘It’s not you, it’s me, sorry about the timing, blah, blah, blah.’ In her mind, that was that. Maybe her and Olly would cross paths at the PC, but she was ready to put the past behind her. The last thing she expected was to receive a voicemail from him a few days later. She also hadn’t expected her stomach to twist so unpleasantly at the sight of his name on her phone. A sick kind of sadness she wasn’t used to. A little guilt, too. Today had been his surgery, she remembered. It probably would have been on her to get him there and back. She was pretty sure he’d been trying to start a conversation about it when she broke up with him. The sinking feeling in her gut wasn’t going away. 

Her hand was slow to click on the voicemail notification, but she did, and then raised the phone to her ear. She leaned against her bedroom door, steadying herself as Olly’s voice hit her. 

“Hey Shay, oooh haha! That rhymes, ooh geez. But uhhh, yeah, hey, it’s Oliver, Olly, hey, yeah.” It was apparent within the first few words that he was post-surgery. Whatever pain pills or anesthetics they’d had him on for it had clearly not worn off yet. 

He confirmed that he was out of surgery, as if she couldn’t have guessed, and she could feel a smile threatening to form on her face. As loopy as he sounded, it wasn’t too bad hearing from him. Last time they talked, he’d been… not happy. Who would be after being dumped? 

It only took one more sentence from Olly to force the hint of a smile to a deep frown.

“Why’d you break up with me?” Shay swallowed hard and ignored the stomachache. “I thought we were well? Did I make you sad?" 

If anything was for certain, it was that Olly had never once made Shay sad. Except for now, maybe. He made her feel like a real person. She was never happier than when she was wih him. She didn’t break up with him because he was a bad boyfriend. It was just… what she’d had to do. Selfish, sure, but smart. Was that a crime? 

“Was I not good? Like… intimately? Was I not a good partner?” Shay could have laughed at how ridiculous he sounded. She could have, if this wasn’t making her heart ache. Had she made him doubt himself so much? He was talking about sex now, but if he was questioning that aspect of their relationship, surely he was questioning other things as well. All because of Shay. Normally she may have liked that her actions had such an impact on someone, but not this time. 

Her eyes started to burn and her vision blurred, and she felt angry with herself suddenly for crying. She’d gone this long without doing it, and all it took was one voicemail for her to crack. Pathetic. 

Nathan was there. She recognized his voice in the background, and she felt relief. She was glad someone had been there for Olly. She was a bit surprised it was Nathan though. Olly talked so highly of him, claimed they were the best of friends, yet he was hardly around. She never got the feeling he liked her very much. Him yelling ‘no’ and audibly trying to pull the phone away from Olly once he told him he was calling her didn’t exactly sway that opinion. 

"For the love of god, man!” she heard Olly, his voice fainter now. “I wanna know wh–” Then silence. End of voicemail. 

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and stared at her phone. Damn him. She had told herself that she’d be over him in a matter of days, convinced herself she hadn’t even gotten that attached. It was infatuation, maybe puppy love, but nothing she’d lose sleep over. She had been so sure of these things. That plan of hers to cross paths with him only when she had to and put them behind her was on hold it seemed, because before she could even stop herself, she was typing a text meant for him. 

Shay → Olly: [Unsent] You’ve never made me sad. You were great in bed. I’m sorry. Shay → Olly: [Unsent] Nathan - give him back his phone and let me talk to him. Shay → Olly: [Unsent] Please don’t call me anymore. Shay → Olly: [Unsent] Move on and let me do the same, please. Shay → Olly: [Unsent] Delete my number please I’m sorry I’m sad too

She typed up draft after draft, nothing good enough to actually send. Either too cold or too emotional to send through. A few minutes passed with her staring at her phone before finally, she settled on something.

Shay → Olly: Hi. I just got your voicemail. Shay → Olly: I hope you feel better soon, Olly. 

[thesubtextmachine]

When @persongoingfast talks about supporting non-snippy fanfic and you write  a low-quality angst piece about friends growing apart (except not really??) reblog if you can relate. Also here it is:

…

Harriet Driscoll snaps the photo on her disposable camera, knowing that the flash and noise would make Buffy's head snap up from her work.

The picture was glorious, nonetheless. It was Buffy, clad in stained jeans and an oversized sweatshirt and propped up by her elbows on the fuzzy carpeted floor of the living room, surrounded by stark white application papers and the occasional pop of a colorful post-it note as she organized and wrote notes and was generally brilliant.

The logo of "Montgomery Preparatory School" was emblazoned on almost every paper, and Harriet couldn't help but marvel at what her small eighth grader daughter was capable of. Harriet knew that her daughter was trying to keep this application casual, but if she knew anything about her daughter, she knew that Buffy was launching her entire essence into every handwritten line of her essay.

Harriet was the artsy parent of the family, hence the disposable camera (an aesthetic choice) and status as the only person in the family who understood why Buffy didn't want to tell her best friends about this application. She knew that Buffy wanted this application, whether or not it led to her going to Montgomery for her high school years, to be her journey and her journey alone, without the help or otherwise of her friends. She also knew that Buffy, even if Buffy didn't know this herself, was afraid of what wasn't being accomplished on her part because of her friends (Harriet didn't want to use the phrase "dragging Buffy down", because Buffy would've gotten angry at her for even thinking that).

Harriet knew that whether or not Buffy got in, Buffy was seeking options to get out. As Harriet snapped the photo, her mind passively wished that Buffy would stay like this forever: following her destiny without the knowledge of what she'd be leaving behind.

… Buffy's fingers are nervous, shaking as she takes the badly-lit picture on her phone and sends it to the group chat.

It's an acceptance letter that she hasn't read all of the way, but she recognizes the buzzwords: "accept", "scholarship", "invite", "congratulations".

She promised herself, directly after she left the room where she did her interview, that she would have to pretend that, of she got in, she would tell them in person. She would pass the letter around over a bowl of baby taters and smile like she wasn't about to abandon the best friends she ever had for the opportunities that this fancy prep school would give her.

She decides instead, whilst holding the letter delicately, that a group chat would be better. At least in a group chat, the Do Not Disturb button is an option.

Buffy waits for what seems like forever but really lasts as long as the Law and Order episode that she watches to distract herself to check her phone, and she finds that the responses to her text in the group chat go (in order) from confusion to reluctant joy to worry about her lack of an answer. Buffy writes that she left her phone alone and would definitely be going to the school. She promises to keep in touch with the gang, sincerity evident in every letter. She sighs with relief and begins to text excitedly. The night wears on, questions are asked and answered, and slowly each one of them goes to bed. Buffy is the last one awake, having been blessed with a lenient bedtime and boundless energy.

She retakes the photo, so it's less blurry and better lit and posts it on her Instagram account, taking pleasure in every like and congratulatory comment. Buffy signed her share of the paperwork that confirmed her spot in the freshman class, and placed the rest on the counter, adorned with a neon pink post-it asking her parents to sign their share.

She goes to bed smiling, and almost wants to take a picture of this moment, even though she doesn't know what there is to take a picture of or how to convey her feelings with a photo. She tries to formulate how, and she goes to sleep with her mind swimming in color combinations and photo compositions that would somehow let the world feel what she feels.

… Eight grade graduation is a bittersweet affair, and it's best captured from Cyrus' mom's phone.

The picture's of the Good Hair Crew, with their wrists joined to display matching friendship bracelets. Andi's arm was crowded with bracelets, and their group bracelet had to be picked out from the bunch. Buffy's was well worn and faded, and Cyrus' looked practically new. They all had visibly misty eyes, and Andi's eye makeup (applied by Bex) pooled under her eyes. Buffy's eye makeup, on the other hand, was streaked horizontally, like she was busy swiping it away. They all clung tightly to each other, but they somehow managed to have smiles on their faces. The biggest and most genuine one belonged to Buffy.

This photo was shared and printed and framed by the entire Good Hark Crew, despite the inherent sorrow of it.

… The photo, taken once again with Harriet's disposable camera, is of Buffy. It's a classic "first day" picture, with her adorned in the burgundy and plaid uniform of Montgomery. Buffy shines in nervous anticipation, and she nervously runs her thumb across the handle of her lunchbox. When Harriet and Derreck Driscoll shuffle her into position in front of their car, Buffy rolls her eyes as if she's too cool and her noticeably uncool parents are being uncool. Nonetheless, a photo is taken and the pair gleefully drive Buffy to school, asking her questions that she doesn't know the answer to yet ("how do you feel?""will you need more for lunch?""are you nervous?")

When Harriet and Derreck get home after dropping Buffy off, they simultaneously let out a long sigh. Quietly, some tea is made and they sit down at the coffee table. The weight of the change hangs on them.

"I wish I could look at the picture you took," Derreck says, simply.

"Me too. I don't know what she's feeling."

"It's probably pretty close to what we're feeling. Y'know, scared but excited. Happy but sad. Whatever it feels like to miss something but also wish that it never happened in the first place."

"Do you think she'll be okay?"

"Of course, Harriet. She wouldn't be Buffy if she doesn't take this and turn it into something amazing," Derreck says, taking a worried sip of his tea.

"I think she may be handling this better than we are."

"I don't doubt that for a second."

… Buffy's first friend is named Leslie, and they become friends quickly and loudly. The first picture of Buffy shows up on Leslie's social media (Snapchat, to be specific) when they're working on their homework together outside. Buffy is hard at work, furiously scribbling away at her math problem, but Leslie has reached peak annoyance with her homework. She pulls out her phone, and takes a picture of Buffy. In the background of the photo is Buffy's phone, vibrating and glowing with notifications from her middle school friends.

Leslie's heard about the mythical former friends, Andi and Cyrus. Andi, who crafted and Cyrus who psychoanalyzed. Buffy always spoke about them like they were occurrences in a past life, but from the way Buffy's phone buzzed, some people weren't on the same page. She wasn't entirely sure if Buffy was on the same page either.

Buffy was getting there, apparently, as seconds after the picture was taken, Buffy reached over to her phone, put it on do not disturb, and placed it face-down on the bench. Leslie captioned the picture "Shade Queen", because Buffy did indeed look shady.

Leslie, her distraction quenched, got back to her work, silently wondering. Buffy's friends were a true enigma, as they were never elaborated on except for the off story or clipped sentence-long answer.

Buffy herself was a bit of an enigma. Buffy answered as many questions in class as she could, but didn't talk much outside of the classroom. She was into track and theater, and apparently had involved parents. This was basically what Leslie knew about her, and the rest was a bit of a mystery.

Nonetheless, an epic friendship was brewing, and Leslie knew that it would take a few epic events (a party or a failed test or cheating scandal or a thunderstorm that would cause them to bond) for them to become actual friends.

… Buffy cuts her hair and it really messes with Andi.

It was there, posted on her Instagram account at 3:30 on a Saturday afternoon, filtered with blue and red tones of both her surroundings. Her surroundings being a party? Andi couldn't figure it out, but she was red and blue and different and that was terrifying.

The chop wasn't totally insane: Buffy didn't shave her hair off or dye it some neon color. It was cut from her mid back to be resting a little bit off the shoulders, nothing big but still absolutely terrifying to Andi.

Buffy, a member of the Good Hair Crew, cut her hair without even sending a quick warning text to her best friends. Andi and Cyrus were left to find out like everyone else did. They, in terms of haircut-notification importance, held the same place as Buffy's other middle school acquaintances (read: the ones that didn't matter).

Andi types out a complimentary comment, posts it, and decides to read some of the others.

Middle school acquaintance, mom who knew beforehand, middle school acquaintance, friend from summer camp, and Leslie?

Leslie clearly didn't fit into the categories that comprised of Buffy's other friends. This Leslie had a private school uniform in her profile picture and what was obviously an inside joke in her comment. Andi's face burns with a sense that something had gone awry in her sacred friend group, and that it was something that was spinning out of her control.

Andi decides that texting Buffy would be good. A simple "hey, saw your hair, it looks cool. What else is up" would be enough to catch up on what was apparently a rift in communication. Andi waits anxiously for a reply that doesn't come until the next afternoon, because Buffy was "busy".

… Cyrus' mom, after he makes the team, goes to his first baseball game, and afterwards she gets all of his baseball friends to huddle for a photo.

Cyrus' team is a ragtag group of people, and the photo is odd but glorious: Cyrus in the center, caught by the photo in the middle of talking to Todd, a short teammate with wild, red, curly hair. Peter has his lanky mid-growth spurt arms around both of them, and he smiles awkwardly into the camera. Crowded in on the sides are Jasper and Harry, two twins who's energetic movements are blurred by the camera.

Neither Buffy or Andi went to the game, but it doesn't phase Cyrus in the way that his mom expects it to.

Cyrus is too preoccupied by his new group of friends to really notice the absence of his best friends in middle school. When he checks his phone on the ride home, he sees that Andi sent him apologetic texts about how "something came up". There are no messages from Buffy, but that doesn't shock him as much as he wishes it did.

He texts Andi, telling her that it's all okay. He doesn't text Buffy, because he knows that that's what Andi would do, and he knows that Andi is trying to grasp at something that's slipping away and Cyrus doesn't want to be like that. If Buffy wants out, Cyrus isn't going to stop her.

… Buffy, Leslie, and their new friend Janice are over for an "academic sleepover", as Buffy calls it, and Harriet takes another candid of them on the floor with their work sprawled around them.

Harriet loves this picture.

Buffy has a grin the size if the moon, and Janice is talking excitedly as she points to the binder in front of her as proof. Leslie watches, a lazy, content smile on her face. The fire of an argument is lit in Buffy's eyes, but this time, it's less angry than it used to be in middle school. Back then, Buffy argued people that simply didn't care as much as her, and Harriet remembered how it would make her burn with anger. Now, she watches as Buffy debates whether viruses are living or not with a smile on her face, as she suddenly finds herself with a worthy sparring partner.

Harriet found that she couldn't imagine her daughter being this happy with her friends from middle school. Sure, Buffy loved them. But Harriet had the nagging feeling that Buffy didn't always like them.

��� The three members of the Good Hair Crew take a selfie, crowded around a booth that seemed much smaller that it used to, all sipping on their milkshakes that tasted the slightest bit off.

Andi called the meeting, hoping against hope that having the gang back together like they used to be would remind Cyrus and Buffy that they were still friends. After the photo was taken, Andi fights back tears as she realizes that this just doesn't work anymore. They've all changed in the slightest bit, and the puzzle just didn't fit like it should.

Cyrus and Buffy kept looking at each other in that sad, "how are we going to tell her" way, like they were parents desperately grasping for the explanation of the non-existence of Santa Claus that wouldn't make Andi cry.

"So, Buffy, how's Montgomery?" Cyrus asked awkwardly, like he's humoring somebody. As his eyes flickered to Andi, Andi realizes that it was her. They were doing this for her.

"Um, pretty good. There's this Intro to Engineering course that we all have to take, and it's fun, but I'm having a tough time with this one project. We have to write this insane document explaining our device. It's a lot."

"Wow, Buffy struggling with an assignment? I never thought I'd see the day," Andi joked.

"Maybe it's because they are actually challenging," Buffy said, her words laced with the slightest hint of venom.

"Oh, okay, sorry, it's just-" Andi scrambled for an apology.

"No, sorry, it's just- I'm on edge. It's due soon and it's such a massive project that I'm worried about it. I didn't mean to sound rude."

The silence settled on the table, swirling around.

"I should go," Andi stated, gathering her stuff.

"Me too, I've got to meet up with Todd to work on something," Cyrus says, standing up. Buffy follows wordlessly, and they all leave the cafe.

Andi never posts the picture, but she looks at it, sometimes. She looks for answers, mostly. She doesn't find them. Instead, she texts her acquaintances in her art class, and slowly makes friends over craftiness and the beauty of recycling. It's never perfect, or at least as perfect as the Good Hair Crew, but it works.

… Buffy posts a picture, and it's benign, but Cyrus stares at it, his fingers ready to type out a comment. It's a picture of Buffy's laptop screen, where this niche Youtuber that he watches is emblazoned on the screen. The caption is simple, something about how she's the only one who watches it with way to many sad emojis.

Finally, Cyrus takes that jump.

He types out an all-caps "YOU WATCH HIM TOO??? I THOUGHT I WAS A L O N E". He's anxious for a response, as this is a bit risky.

He hasn't talked to Buffy since the Cafe Distaster of Winter, and this is Early Spring. After a long period of silence, especially between former best friends, is this okay?

Apparently it is, as Buffy DMs him and they start talking.

The conversation flows, the way that it hasn't in a while. They talk about the Youtuber, then a show that they both watch, and miraculously, their lives. Cyrus complains about baseball (he loves it, despite complaints) and Buffy complains about her school (she obviously adores it, which is obvious through the complaints). They seamlessly arrange a meetup at their old cafe. It's so easy that it surprises Cyrus. Could they have been doing this the whole time? Cyrus can't figure out the answer, but he's excited to find out.

… Andi finds out that they met up without her through social media, because they would never have told her to her face.

They're in the background of a picture taken by one of her acquaintances from Student Council (Andi has a solid gig of making the posters for Student Council events), and Andi stares at it forever, the questions spilling into in her head until she feels like she's going to overflow.

She cries a little bit, takes a minute or two to scream into her pillow out of frustration that the only person who really wanted to stay friends with them wasn't invited to hang out with them.

She ends up texting Cyrus with a screenshot of the photo, with a question mark. She sees the ellipses spring up, fall down, spring up again, and then fall. She waits. Then, a simple "sorry, it's hard to explain".

"Please just explain, because I don't understand."

"it's been months and Buffy posted something and we started talking about it, and then we hang out"

"Why wasn't I invited? I thought we were a trio?"

"because it's just too hard"

"What???"

"we can't handle spending time with you! you make us sad!! we love you, but spending time with you is so stressful, at least as a group. we are so sorry."

Andi doesn't respond. She just puts her phone on do not disturb and gives herself time to let go of something that's been gone for a while.

… When the first full year of high school at Montgomery Prep is over for Buffy, Harriet takes Buffy out to dinner. Buffy is allowed to invite friends, and the group of people at the circular table of Geraldine's (the restaurant in town that's nice, but not too nice) comes with a few surprises, but nothing insane.

Cyrus is there (if feeling a bit out of place amidst the heady philosophical debates characteristic of Buffy and her friends), Leslie and Janice (who've become, in Harriet's eyes, a singular unit), and Cyrus' friend, Todd (apparently, Todd and Buffy were fast friends, and participated in their own heady philosophical debates).

Harriet pulls a gift bag out of her purse, and hands it to Buffy, who acts much more shocked than she actually is. It's a framed photo of Buffy, the one Harriet took during her applications. Buffy gets emotional, and Harriet giggles as an entire tables-worth of high school almost-sophomores try to either stretch to reach her or actually get out of their seats to give her a hug. The sight is simultaneously heartwarming and hilarious, and Harriet finds herself emotional at the power of her own daughter. The power of her daughter to find the best opportunities for herself and find herself her own family.

"Change is tough," Harriet wrote on the back of the photo, the message hidden by the frame, "Make the best out of it".

[thekuroiookami]

Hey just saw your asks are open and I'm so happy excited they are!!! I have so much I'd like to request, but for now can I just get either headcannons or small drabbles of Akashi and his s/o using snapchat??? Like does he use snapchat often, keeps streaks with his s/o, post on his story?? I would have asked if you could do all of the GoM but I wasn't sure what your character limit was! Anyways, so happy you're taking asks and I'll be back in the future for many more ^^

Hello yzzy! Thanks for the ask. I have to say I’ve never used Snapchat, so if I didn’t get the spirit of it right, forgive me. And I’ve included the GoM cos why not.

Akashi

·        At first he had no interest in the app, becausehe was busy, and didn’t really have a use for it. The only reason he knew itexisted was because you once got excited over a snap someone sent and fell intohis lap laughing.

·        That changed when he went on a trip and had tostay apart from you for a few days. You installed the app on his phone insecret, and then one day he woke up to a video of you telling him to wake up. Helikes the little glimpses into your day, and it doesn’t hurt that he canmessage you as well.

·        Since he’s rather obliging, it doesn’t take muchwork on your part to get him to send snaps back. When he does though, it’s likegetting ordinary photos – there’s rarely any text or stickers. Though you’renot complaining, because he looked delicious in that suit.

·        He once sent you a video when you were down. Itwas like he was psychic. He just smiled gently and said “You’re perfect to me.That’s all that counts.” You cursed Snapchat for not letting you keep theseprecious moments forever.

·        That said, he still doesn’t use it often, thoughhe does find it entertaining to watch the GoM’s antics on the group messages. Overall,he likes being an observer more than a participant. He doesn’t bother to updatea story or keep up streaks unless he’s apart from you. In that case, he’ll senda steady stream of dryly humorous yet comforting texts, with occasional snapsof things that catch his eye.

Aomine

·        Would not know about any app ever if it weren’tfor you and Momoi. Like, phones are just for calling people, right?

·        That said, he quickly catches onto the more risquébenefits of Snapchat when you coerce him into using it. You regretted it almostimmediately. He sauntered off, and when he came back you were blushing like aposy because his shirtless selfie was just so sinful. Aomine was only going toscare you off his back, but he finds this more entertaining. Now you have tolive with him pestering you for similar snaps of you.

·        On a softer note, he likes it when you postphotos of your dates together on your story. He’s pretty possessive, and thisis a good way to declare you off limits. He makes sure to keep an arm aroundyou somehow from now on. It also makes him happy to see you happy with him.

·        Streaks are pretty difficult to achieve withAomine because he tends to ignore all messages when he’s playing basketball.Even worse, he has a habit of replying to all your texts at the most inconvenienttimes. You know from his wicked grin that he does it on purpose.  

·        Will shamelessly screenshot anything of yours helikes. When you ask him about it, he just shrugs and says that he wants to keepyou close. It’s a bit hard to stay offended after that.

Kise

·        If there is a photographic form of social mediaout there, Kise will have found it and tried it. It’s not surprising Snapchatis one of those. Kise especially likes the new lenses that let you add sillyexpressions to your face. Kasamatsu is less than pleased.

·        Needless to say, after you started dating, yourinbox is flooded with snaps of Kise in every pose imaginable. They alternatelymake you laugh, shake your head, and cry. You ‘accidentally’ took a screenshotof one of his more attractive pics once. Of course, he got a notification.After that, Kise’s narcissism became near impossible to put up with, and thevolume of selfies increased dramatically.

·        Unusually, he also likes to post snaps of scrumptiouslooking food. You hate him a little bit when you realize he can eat dessertsroutinely and still look the way he does.

·        He’ll never say this, but your Snapchat storywas one of the things that made him fall for you. Your optimism and smile inthe videos kept him going through some bleak days, and now he gets to see youfor real, every day.

Kiseand you have a friendly competition going on where you try to keep snappingeach other without missing a single day. Given Kise’s penchant for sending andreceiving chats, especially when you’re involved, this isn’t very difficult.You realize how long you’ve been together when you see the 100 Day emoji, andsmile to yourself. 

Kuroko

·        Quite enjoys using Snapchat, because he isn’tinvisible, but the evidence never stays up for long either. However, he isn’tabove pranking his friends with the occasional snap where he deliberatelymisdirects them and then sends them reproachful messages about how they didn’tnotice him.

·        A lot of his snaps are, unsurprisingly, ofNigou. Sometimes he reminds you of an overly fond parent recording their childfor posterity, only with self-destructing photos. You often wish he’d post morepictures of himself in his story so you can secretly hoard them.

·        You were the first person to unerringly spotwhere Kuroko was in any video or photo, even if he wasn’t actually in theframe. After teasing him for several days, you finally satisfied his curiosityand explained that you looked for his shadow in the pictures. He might havefallen a little deeper in love with you at that moment.

·        Doesn’t actually voice it out loud, but lovesgetting personal messages from you. It makes him feel cherished, and he likesto bask in the glow of your attention. He’s not very good at reciprocation, butyou understand that he’s not naturally demonstrative. He compensates by beingaffectionate when you meet up IRL.

·        Is actually the one with a strange knack for postingwitty stories. His penchant for deadpan commentary means that everyone visiblybraces themselves when he posts something. You were just glad Vine got taken down, or the world would never recoverfrom the shade he was capable of throwing.  

Midorima

·        Takao was the one that made his account for him.He tried to take it down (because Shin_chan is an embarrassing username,nanodayo) but had no idea how. Takao was (and still is) the one that posts onhis story, mostly a picture of that day’s lucky item accompanied by hystericallaughter. Everyone started using Midorima’s story as a concise Oha-Asa.

·        When he starts dating you, he takes a littlemore interest in the app because you use it, though not that much. He doesn’t carefor social media in general. But he doesn’t mind sending the occasional snap ofhimself when you ask. These generally make you laugh because he looks so grim.

·        Also uses Snapchat to send you a forecast forthe day, and a suggestion for your lucky item. It makes his day if you textback, and he will be downright euphoric if you send a picture of you with saidlucky item.

·        There was one time Takao sneakily took a snap ofhim emerging from the shower after practice. You almost didn’t recognize himwithout glasses on. Midorima was just confused when you wouldn’t meet his eyesfor the rest of the day. He almost took you to the nurse because you were sored.

         Hisdark secret: someone once recorded a snap of you cheering from the standsduring a game. He may have saved that one because it was so cute, and it mayhave become a sort of good luck charm for him to depend on when he’s notfeeling as confident. But he’ll deny its existence if you ask him about it.“W-why would I have something like that, nanodayo?!”

Murasakibara

·        The last person in the group to use, or evencare about Snapchat. It’s so much effort, and less worthwhile than eatingsnacks. Still, it would be even more effort to put up resistance when youinstall it on his phone, so he just grumbles and lets you do it.

·        As a consequence of this indifference, he postsnothing at all. The one time he did post something, it was unintentional. Hepushed a button with his nose when he fell asleep on the couch. You and Himurolaughed for ten minutes straight when you got a blurry mass of purple hair andsmushed cheeks in your inbox.

·        You discover that Snapchat is an effective toolfor motivating Murasakibara. Send a disappearing picture of a dessert – or evenjust chocolate – and he’s suddenly up for anything. You once posted a video ofyou slowly eating ice-cream in a café, threatening to finish it without him. Hemade a 30 minute commute in half that time.

·        He’s not above messing with other people’ssnaps, especially selfies. He takes a sadistic delight in applying terrifyingfilters to Midorima’s face, much to the annoyance of the latter. You are theonly one exempt from this treatment; you’re too adorable to mar with somethinglike that. Also, you’re quite scary when you’re mad.

·        Murasakibara would much rather just cuddle youin person than use some app, but he appreciates your efforts to make him smile.He does smile, but more at your enthusiasm than the snaps. He’s never lonelythanks to you.

[rfa-squad-blog]

Hi! Uhm hc on how would RFA+V+Saeran would do and feel of MC sometimes feels hurt whenever her ex talks to her. She says she had already moved on but she still feel pain sometimes. Thanks!

I’m not sure if we did these right but I hope you like them. Sorry for any spelling mistakes i’m sick AF right now. Also these ex boyfriends say some mean shit so be careful! Love you guys - Mod MC

Zen:

Your ex was such a huge flirt and because of this nature he was basically a playboy

Because of his fickle nature he ended up cheating on you and when you found out it broke your heart and you broke up with him.

It had taken months before you got over him but you were with Zen now for more than two years and you honestly thought he was the one.

You were shopping for the holidays when you ran into your ex and even though you had a messy breakup he was still flirting with you hardcore.

When you basically rejected all of his advances he started to get angry.

“So I heard you were with that popular musical actor Zae or whatever, how’s that going for you?”

“His name is Zen and I don’t have to tell you anything about my life anymore so mind your own business.” You snapped at him tired of being around him.

“Woah, easy there. I was just asking because I know you left me because I had an affair, you know since he’s so popular he’ll probably end up cheating on you too. After all you are very naive. Oh man it was so easy to lie to you.” He started to laugh in that fake laugh of his that you always hated

“Zen would never do anything like that to hurt me. He loves me and will always be a better man than you will ever be.” You spat out.

“I’m just saying that you aren’t anything special and he is a pretty famous guy, why would he even stick around with you? I’m telling you now so you won’t be shocked in the future but he will cheat on you.” You couldn’t stand being around this jerk for a second longer and quickly turned around and walked away.

Even though you were over this jerk it still hurt when you thought about how he cheated on you, and his words today hurt more. You walked back to Zen’s place in a daze.

You knew you weren’t anything great compared to Zen and he could do honestly better.

Your ex’s words started to replay in your head and before you knew it you were curled up on zen’s couch crying your heart out.

One of your biggest insecurities was that you weren’t good enough for Zen, and even though you knew Zen would never stoop as low as to cheat on you it still hurt to hear someone else point out your flaws.

Zen would be home soon and you tried your best to look like you weren’t just crying your heart out, you really did not want to talk about what happened today, especially since your ex’s were always a touchy topic to Zen.

“MC, were you crying your eyes are all puffy? Are you okay? What happened?” Zen said as soon as he saw your face. Well so much for acting as if nothing happened.

Upon hearing Zen’s voice you started to tear up again and in three short strides Zen was right in front of you hugging you tightly and petting your hair.

“Z-zen, you aren’t going to cheat on me are you?” You sobbed out, you knew you were being ridiculous but you couldn’t help it.

“What, MC what are you talking about I would never cheat on you. I thought you knew that.” Zen asked, shock clearly on his face but he continued to hug you tightly.

“I know! I know you wouldn’t cheat on me but ever since I ran into that jerk and he said that since I am basically nothing compared to you I can’t stop thinking about it. I know its stupid. But you are just so amazing, and I-I’m not.” You said in a small voice, saying outloud hurt worse than hearing your ex say it.

At your words Zen grew stiff and he gently pushed you away from you but still held onto your shoulders. He looked furious though.

“Who was this bastard that ever made you doubt yourself. Who is this asshole, tell me right now so I can go kick his ass.” Zen growled out.

You quickly told him about your encounter with your ex and the horrible things he said to you, by the end of your story Zen looked livid.

“Who the hell does he think he is talking to you like that. First of all he was the dumbass who cheated on you and now he tells you are not good enough for me? I am gonna kill this guy. Listen here MC you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You help me grow as a person and you are so kind and beautiful and if there is anyone in this relationship that isn’t worthy is me.”

You looked up at him in shock when he said those words.

“MC I love you so much, you mean the world to me and honestly I would be so lost without you here with me. Please, you mean so much to me don’t listen to that jerk you are so perfect and amazing.” Zen said pulling you closer to him again.

“Zen I love you so much too. I’m sorry.” You said and then he gave you the sweetest kiss ever. You were silly to ever think that Zen would be anything like that toxic jerk.

4 months later you were happily engaged and the next time you ran into your ex you showed him your engagement ring and then showed him the finger before he got another word in.

-Mod DK

Yoosung:

You were chilling with Yoosung and playing video games

It was just supposed to be a quick study break

While the two of you were playing you got a text

It was from your ex boyfriend

“Hey kiddo, I see you’re still playing games. You always did act like a child”

Attached was a picture of you playing video games.

Yoosung took it and you posted it on instagram

Your ex liked to keep tabs on you

And boy did he try to worm his way back into your life at any chance

But you were over it, he never took you seriously

He just treated you like a kid

And so you ended it

That’s part of why you identified with Yoosung

Because he wanted to be taken seriously too.

And so the two of you were a perfect match

You respected and understood each other

So instead of responding to your ex

You took a silly selfie of yoosung and yourself and posted it on instagram for your ex to see.

Seven:

You were waiting for seven to finish work and laying in bed

Your phone vibrated with a notification

Miss me?

Your heart clenched

You knew exactly who it was

Your ex boyfriend who was emotionally abusive

You had finally broken it off a few years ago and hadn’t looked back since

He still tried to contact you from time to time but he had no idea where you lived so he couldn’t get to you

All he could do was text

You always blocked the number

Seven knew about the ex boyfriend but he didn’t know that he still tried to contact you.

He found out that night when he came into the bedroom to see you crying.

You handed him your phone and he saw all of the nasty messages your ex sent you.

“None of what he said is true MC. You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met in my life and I plan to spend the rest of my life making sure you know how amazing you are.”

He held you close to him as you fell asleep, reassuring you that you wouldn’t hear from your ex again.

Let’s just say your ex woke up the next morning to a completely useless phone, computer, and toaster.

Oh and an empty bank account

Seven still isn’t sure how he hacked into the toaster tbh

Jumin:

You had only dated once before Jumin.

This guy was an asshole.

All he ever wanted to do was smoke weed and hang out with his friends.

He never made you feel special.

You hadn’t been in the relationship just for the dates but a few outtings would have been nice.

When you finally ended things you had decided to look for a more mature man the next time you decided to enter a relationship.

Enter Jumin. He may only just be sorting out his emotions but dude is hella mature other than when he picks on the RFA members.

He’s got a stable (well paying) job and his own apartment.

You were in love with him for far deeper reasons than that but the fact that he was a real adult only helped things.

You had completely moved on from your ex, or so you thought.

He texted you one night while Jumin was away on a business trip.

Guess you got what you wanted.

You aren’t sure why that text sent a shock to your stomach.

You texted back, slightly confused about his cryptic message.

What do you mean?

His response was instant. I saw a magazine with a picture of you and that rich CEO guy. You’re such a gold digger.

You clenched your hand around your phone in anger and hurt.

Leave me alone. I love that man and not for his money. You’re just jealous. I guess you never grew up.

He texted back something else that was nasty but you chose to ignore it and deleted all of the messages. Tears welled up in your eyes at the nasty names he called you and you fell asleep like that.

The next morning you awoke to the sounds of Jumin moving around in the kitchen.

You ran to him, excited that he was finally home and grasped him tightly.

He wrapped his arms around you and chuckled, placing a kiss on your messy hair.

When you looked up at him he frowned.

“MC, have you been crying?”

You used your phone as a makeshift mirror and sure enough there was mascara dried in tear streaks under your eyes.

“It’s nothing don’t worry about it.”

“MC I will always worry about it. Anything that hurts you hurts me as well.”

“My ex called me a gold digger.” you mumbled with your head down.

“MC, what was that?” He tilted your head up so that you had to look him in the eyes.

You repeated yourself. Jumin was furious.

“How dare he. Love you’re nothing of the sort, you’ve more than proven that.”

He gave you a tight hug and reassured you that the love the two of you shared was nothing superficial. And then after a smouldering kiss he excused himself to speak to seven.

When he came back the two of you cuddled to make up for the time he spent on a business trip.

You aren’t sure exactly what strings he pulled but you never heard from your ex again.

V:

You had told one of your friends from before you joined the RFA about your fiance.

She was curious about him so you explained that he had very poor vision and that is was because of his ex fiance.

You also told her about his career as a photographer.

A few days later you received a text from your ex. He was always rude to you and it didn’t seem as if that had changed in the three years the two of you had been broken up for.

Heard you’re marrying a blind photographer. Good luck with that one.

You didn’t bother to text back. He always said hurtful things.

Your phone pinged a second time, you really downgraded, not like you could’ve done better than me anyways.

That stung. V was your everything.

You let your feelings get the better of you and messaged back.

Why don’t you go mind your own business.

You assumed that would end the conversation but you know what they say about assuming.

Your inbox once again had a notification.

You always were a loser. Thank God we broke up.

You had never been more thankful that you broke up with him when you received that text but the loser comment was a blow to your self esteem.

You let out a high pitched noise drew V’s attention from his office.

He came out to see you curled up on the couch, moping.

He could see alright when he wore glasses and right now he saw you frowning.

He sat down and put your head in his lap, stroking your hair.

“Honey, whats wrong?”

You shoved your phone into his hand and he read the messages.

“You don’t think i’m a loser do you?”

“Of course not love. I think you’re wonderful, you’re the love of my life. If anyone is a loser it’s him. He lost out on the most amazing girl in the world.”

You sat up and moved into V’s lap kissing him on the mouth tenderly.

“Thanks babe, I don’t think you’re a downgrade either. You’re the most important person in my life.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon cuddling.

Saeran:  

Saeran was at the grocery store getting ingredients for dinner.

The two of you were planning to try a new recipe.

You were messing around on your phone when a message from an unknown number popped up.

Thinking it was Saeran trying to mess with you, you texted back.

“Saeran, honey when will you be home I miss you!”

Your phone buzzed with a notification.

“Who the fuck is Saeran, you slut. You always did move on quickly.”

Your blood ran cold and you cautiously texted back.

“Who is this?”

You got an immediate response, “Your ex boyfriend, we broke up a year ago, have you whored around so much that your forgot.”

This man was the worst person you had ever met and the reason that you hadn’t dated for nearly a year before you met Saeran.

Tears ran down your face, they blurred your vision to the point that you couldn’t text back even if you had wanted to. Which you didn’t.

You heard the front door shut and tried to escape to your bedroom so Saeran wouldn’t see you crying.

He came into your bedroom immediately after setting down the groceries and he caught you wiping away your tears.

He pulled you into a loose embrace and pressed your face to his chest saying nothing until your tears slowed.

“What happened?”

His tone left no room for negotiation and you handed him your phone.

By the time he was done reading the short conversation he was fuming.

“I’m going to ruin him. How dare he speak to you that way. You are mine. He has no right to call you a slut. I love you MC. Don’t believe what he said to you it’s bullshit.”

You said nothing and decided to put all of you love into the kisses that you peppered Saeran’s face with.

He picked you up and carried you to the bed where the two of you cuddled and talked until you needed to get up and start cooking.

Later that evening you checked your phone and noticed a picture had been sent to your ex.

It was a picture of you and Saeran, he was kissing your cheek and flipping the camera off.

You giggled and kissed Saeran once again. 

-Mod MC

[stag28]

"ways the tech industry uses design techniques to keep people hooked to the screen for as long and as frequently as possible. Not because they’re evil but because of this arms race for attention. [..] Technology steers what 2 billion people are thinking and believing every day. It’s possibly the largest source of influence over 2 billion people’s thoughts that has ever been created. Religions and governments don’t have that much influence over people’s daily thoughts. But we have three technology companies who have this system that frankly they don’t even have control over [..] If we’re talking about just your phone, then we’re talking about Apple and Google because they design the operating systems, the phone itself, and the software in the phone. And if we’re talking about where people spend their time on the phone, then we’re talking about Facebook, YouTube, Snapchat and Instagram because that’s where people spend their time. [..] , the problem is the hijacking of the human mind: systems that are better and better at steering what people are paying attention to, and better and better at steering what people do with their time than ever before. These are things like “Snapchat streaks,” which is hooking kids to send messages back and forth with every single one of their contacts every day. These are things like autoplay, which causes people to spend more time on YouTube or on Netflix. These are things like social awareness cues, which by showing you how recently someone has been online or knowing that someone saw your profile, keep people in a panopticon. The premise of hijacking is that it undermines your control. This system is better at hijacking your instincts than you are at controlling them. You’d have to exert an enormous amount of energy to control whether these things are manipulating you all the time. [..] other people can be persuaded, but not me. I’m the smart one. It’s only those other people over there that can’t control their thoughts. So it’s essential to understand that we experience the world through a mind and a meat-suit body operating on evolutionary hardware that’s millions of years of old, and that we’re up against thousands of engineers and the most personalized data on exactly how we work on the other end. [..] step one is awareness. Awareness that people with very high IQs work at Google, and they want to hijack your mind, whether they’re working on doing that deliberately or not. [..] YouTube has a hundred engineers who are trying to get the perfect next video to play automatically. And their techniques are only going to get more and more perfect over time, and we will have to resist the perfect. There’s a whole system that’s much more powerful than us, and it’s only going to get stronger. [..] it’s not necessarily bad to be hijacked, we might be glad if it was time well spent for us. I’m not against technology. And we’re persuaded to do things all the time. It’s just that the premise in the war for attention is that it’s going to get better and better at steering us toward its goals, not ours. We might enjoy the thing it persuades us to do, which makes us feel like we made the choice ourselves. [..] All those people who are working to give you the next perfect thing on YouTube don’t know that it’s 2 am and you might also want to sleep. They’re not on your team. They’re only on the team of what gets you to spend more time on that service. [..] What we want to do is block those moments that hijack your mind in ways you regret, and replace them with a different timeline—what you would have wanted to have happened instead. The resource we’re conserving is time. [..] Imagine we replace the Comment button with a Let’s Meet button. When we want to post something controversial, we can have the choice to say, “Hey let’s talk about this” in person, not online. [..] think we’re going to look at the advertising model—which has an unbounded interest in getting more of people’s time on a screen—and see it as being as archaic as the era when we got all our power from coal. Advertising is the new coal. It was wonderful for propping up the internet economy. It got us to a certain level of economic prosperity, and that’s fantastic. And it also polluted the inner environment and the cultural environment and the political environment because it enabled anyone to basically pay to get access to your mind. And on Facebook specifically, it allows the hyper-targeting of messages that perfectly persuade and polarize populations. And that’s a dangerous thing. It also gave all these companies an incentive to maximize how much time they have of your life. So we have to get off of this business model. [..] tech platforms are only going to get more and more persuasive. [..] we’re only going to have more information about how Nick’s mind works, not less. We’re only going to have more information about what persuades him to stay on the screen. We’re only going to have more ways to scrape his profile and what he posts to find the keywords and topics that matter to him and then mirror back his sentiments about everything he cares about when we sell him ads. We’re only going to get better and better at undermining his mind. And so the only form of ethical persuasion that exists in the world is when the goals of the persuaders are aligned with the goals of the persuadees. [..] the advertisements themselves are not the problem. The problem is the advertising model. The unbounded desire for more of your time. More of your time means more money for me if I’m Facebook or YouTube or Twitter. [..] Energy companies used to have the same perverse dynamic: I want you to use as much energy as possible. Please just let the water run until you drain the reservoir. Please keep the lights on until there’s no energy left. We, the energy companies, make more money the more energy you use. [..] 2 billion people’s minds are already jacked in to this automated system, and it’s steering people’s thoughts toward either personalized paid advertising or misinformation or conspiracy theories. And it’s all automated; the owners of the system can’t possibly monitor everything that’s going on, and they can’t control it. This isn’t some kind of philosophical conversation. This is an urgent concern happening right now. [..] energy companies: Their behavior changed because the energy companies are regulated by the state. [..] There are two ways that can happen: One is through regulation, [..]; the other, and the opportunity here, is for Apple. Apple is the one company that could actually do it. Because their business model does not rely on attention, and they actually define the playing field on which everyone seeking our attention plays. They define the rules. If you want to say it, they’re like a government. They get to set the rules for everybody else. They set the currency of competition, which is currently attention and engagement. App stores rank things based on their success in number of downloads or how much they get used. [..] They could change the game, change what it means to win and lose in the App Store. So it would not be about who gets the most downloads. [..] when you wake up in the morning it’s like every app is still competing all at once for your attention. Netflix and Facebook and YouTube want your attention just as much as the morning meditation apps. Imagine if there were zoning laws. So they could set up zoning lines in the attention city that they run and separate your morning from your evening from your on-the-go moments of screen time. So when you wake up, you’d see a morning home screen, in which things compete to help you wake up, which could include there being nothing on there at all. It’s like the stores are closed until 10 am, just like back in the old days. Right now, you don’t have a way to set that up. And there’s no way for there to be a marketplace of alternatives—alternative home screens or notification rules. So this is actually a way in which Apple could either do a really good job themselves or enable a marketplace of competing alternatives so that people could set up these zones, and we could figure out what would really work best for people. [..] the incentives don’t work like that now. The reason these companies want you to use everything all the time is so they can serve you the maximum number of ads and get the most revenue and please their shareholders, but also so they can harvest the maximum amount of data. [..] what data enables, which is persuasion. If I have data, then I know exactly what’s going to move Nick’s psychology, and I can persuade your mind in ways that you wouldn’t even know were targeted just at you. So this is the world that we’re already living in. And this is the world that, again, ran away beyond the control of the engineers of the platforms. [..] We don’t have good language in English for the difference between the words “manipulate” versus “direct” versus “seduce” versus “persuade.” [..] We need to think of these services and platforms as public infrastructure, and we need to be able to fund the solving of those problems in advance. If you’re a New Yorker, how much of the taxes you pay go to paying for police, subways, or street repairs? How much goes to sanitation? There are a lot of taxes and resources that are allocated to keep the city working well for people, asking what’s best for people. In contrast, think about how little at these technology companies is spent on “what’s best for people.” [..] these services are monopolies on the news. If they wanted to, without anyone knowing, they could quash my voice. They could make it so no one reads this article. And that speaks to the problem.“