#and every time these managers try to BS me i get more committed to doing it

[ididntchoosethebeardlife]

i have become a convenient scapegoat for multiple issues at work and no matter how many time i explain the issues to involved parties they still double down that its all my fault SO

im gonna fix the problems. Are we gonna go over budget? Yup! Are we gonna hurt people's feelings? Oh you betcha. But whatever the fuck you thought the problem was, you will most definitely start 2025 with a different fucking problem.

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

y'know I find it so funny how (before hopefully I shut up about them for good), that like a month after I started at my old cadetship workplace back in 2022, they made me sit through a fucking 45minute [but I dragged it out for 2hrs trying to guess the perceived right answers they wanted] personality test that listed my top like 10 strengths, weaknesses and other skills to develop (eg one skill to develop was 'influencing and motivating' or whatever, one weakness was that i often act without thinking or something like that, and my obvious strength was writing).....

and like we had full meetings about my results on that test, and how it might "hinder or aid your (my) productivity" and bullshit like that..... but then they blatantly did fuck all to develop my influencing/motivating, or whatever the fuck that bs test called them skills. they fully ignored that I was a good writer, so they never gave me blog posts or social media posts or got me to write a newsletter article to do with the marketing team. the only VAGUELY writing oriented task I did was copy and pasting case notes from the social worker/tenancy support worker into an excel spreadsheet where I (probs illegally tbh) edited the spelling, grammar and other issues with the case notes bc some of the typos drove me insane tbh. for other things, they never developed or helped curb/develop in a more positive way for my weaknesses.... and just endlessly criticised me instead or never gave real constructive feedback to help me improve.

hell, i could've even helped write the case notes for tribunal for this one tenant we had committing centrelink (aussie social services) and rent fraud wouldve been great! but NO! even that was irrelevant to me, even though I sat directly between my team leader/manager AND rent review, who talked over me about it every fucking day for 3 months. we ended up backdating their unpaid rent 30k if you're wondering. like ok yeah. given this was a management and senior management issue, that was obvs too big for a trainee to be part of. but also! I'm DIRECTLY IN THE MIDDLE of the two people investigating it???? why won't you INCLUDE me???? when you talk over me about it constantly??? dumbass workplace. I swear to fuck.

and I only say this bc I scrolled past this one shitty asf recruiter yesterday on linkedin, who was all like "one whole reason, YOU PERSONALLY have an employment gap on your resume is bc the YOU took too long to be trained by a company and that's just tooooooo expensive and wasteful on company expenses 😥😭 consider that YOU created this problem and the company SHOULD NOT have to train you well enough to do the job!"

like joey. I was IN a TRAINING PROGRAM and the useless ass company I was at REFUSED to train me at all costs and then told me to get assessed for a learning disability/depression/anxiety, bc "you just cant learn fast enough"..... when I was LITERALLY SIGNED UP TO BE TRAINED.

this WAS NOT MY FAULT. there should be adequate onboarding practices and training provided in every workplace, but I was actively being denied it bc I wasn't the bitchy backstabbing type to get anywhere in that workplace. I did not take "too long" to get trained when they actively denied me training opportunities EVERY time I asked for them, by telling me that "thats irrelevant to you!" and "just accept that it's not in your journey with us 🤷🏻‍♀️😬" . fuck you and fuck the corporate overlords who think that training people properly and adequately is just "toooooo expensive and employees should train themselves for free/at their own cost". most esp in fields like social and community work that I was in.

this workplace just did NOT want me to develop and hone my skills in any way, shape, or form, really. they instead dragged me through a useless ass personality test and deliberately ignored my interests, strengths, and weaknesses to develop and then blamed me for "being too slow" and "can't you just teach yourself?? are you Special™️ bc you can't interpret the tenancy succession policy and tenancy software procedure on your own without explicit inperson direction????" they refused to walk me through complicated tenancy procedures and policies when they'd do it with every other new hire.

I did not "take too long be trained"..... when they just actively treated me as a useless intern my entire year there. so I might as well just act as a trainee the entire time and continually ask for help even though it pisses people off (besides the point the ONE TIME I tried to solve a call on my own in the dumbass fucking 2min call window (I usually took like 15mins lmao).... I got told off bc I didn't ask for the correct paperwork and evidence (power of attorney bc the lady just said 'I think my mum has dementia.... so I'm just taking over ALL of her accounts for her) all became they NEVER let me sit on a call and listen in on what the hell to ask for (ie a living skills assessment) because THEY REFUSED to give me training on it (and also I think they thought my cert IV in housing course covered this issue. it didn't).... so how the fuck was I SUPPOSED to just automatically and INTUITIVELY KNOW what questions to ask and what paperwork and assessments etc I needed from the client???? fucking bizarre. and to this day I still have no idea if my mentor/manager ever bothered to follow up and rectify the issue for me.

also, right before i left in 2023, they actively KICKED ME OUT of an external (but internally in the office) all day training session on home visits/inspections bc "oh we booked the whole customer service team by accident!!! we booked you in error. so delet yourself now from the training invite right now!" literally the DAY BEFORE the training was to happen. yet they let the new (at the time) cadet go. and yet, they lectured me all the time on my "poor time management" and "poor planning and timetable coordination" or whatever the fuck skills. like ok given that I left that week, so in a sense, that training would've been wasted on me. but also. you told me THE DAY BEFORE and not 3 MONTHS PRIOR (ie when they booked it in the calendar and invited me to it) thag I wasn't invited??? how am I the one with poor time management in this scenario???? fuck you. bc it was the only other external training they'd offered me other than child safety and mandatory reporting.... which is understandably mandatory in this field. WHY can't you spare me ONE FUCKING DAY of outside training??? like they even denied me fucking first aid and CPR???? which is also usually mandatory in this field. all bc "you'll be with someone whose qualified??? why should we bother putting you in CPR and first aid training???"

but yeah. fuck that useless as workplace and fuck recruiters which think people who have gaps on their resume are jobless bc "oh. you just take too long to be trained, huh? what a suck on resources YOU PERSONALLY must be for ANYONE to hire to successfully carry out any role!" and my point is, they even denied me BASIC mandatory training in things like cpr/first aid??? how the fuck was I supposed to excel and be trained here????

bc it also largely falls on companies who REFUSE an employee who was ACTIVELY a trainee adequate training for dumbass toxic workplace reasons.... and also blame employees for issues they CANNOT rectify... like the shitty government aged care call centre that I worked at in feb and march this year.... all bc my phone app (which is THEIR back-end tech issue) that I couldn't fix by simply turning a computer on and off again) was back connecting to calls ALL the time, which meant I couldn't take calls during my training weeks (only 6 weeks).

so they did call me a "drain on resources" because the people who I sat with actively took quality on my calls and were apparently put in like "off boarding" mode bc they weren't actively doing the job of taking at least 30 calls per an 8hr shift.... but instead assessing me for quality. so it's also shit employers in general. so I quit instead of being fired.

[stonedghostblogg]

documentation of a 21 year old Chicana living in 21st century America (11.2023)

journal entry (1)

I finally have a job after being unemployed for 3 months. I left my last job due to harassment from upper management, who were not shy about how controlling they can and will be. It was not fun being 1 of 2 POC in an office full of white people. It was my first office job, too. So I am already not fond of corporate America. Prior to losing my job, I did a decent job at saving up my money (thanks to my BF who takes care of our date nights and other outings). But seeing as to how much things cost, I still raked up thousands in CC debt, haha! Additionally, my car insurance rate went up by $100/ month due to ‘inflation’ (I call BS and really CEOs are trying to squeeze out the life and money common folk have left). I’m also getting nervous because the holidays are approaching and I need to buy food, gifts, decor and blah blah blah. All this to say I feel like there’s more tough times coming ahead and trying to pay it all off will not be simple.

On a brighter note, it’s almost been a year since I secured my first apartment. I spent years before this wishing I could live on my own. It’s a big accomplishment of mine. Before obtaining my apartment, I still held out hope that I’d be able to afford a house with my S/O. Boooy was that dream crushed real quick. Although my one bedroom apartment is quite meager, I still appreciate the fact that I’ve been able to pay my rent every month and that me, my boyfriend and my two cats have a safe place to eat and slumber peacefully.

Sometimes my mind enters a dark place and refuses to have hope for easier times where money isn’t an issue. So far in my adulthood, it really feels like I’ve been getting to know the world more and how bad it really is. Growing up, you always hear lectures about the “real world” and how tough it is and blah blah. I will admit it is very tough. But I’ve come to understand that it’s only so tough because of the people in control of everything. It’s tough because the system was made to be tough. Especially for anyone in minority groups or people with unstable home lives. I’ve learned so much of disparities that exist and evil acts committed in the past by vile people to remain in control of the economy. I’ve also come to learn how many ‘different companies’ are owned by only 1 or 2 other companies. How easy it is for rich people to evade punishment and how difficult it is for lower class people’s and minorities to have their basic needs met.

Really I’ve learned that this existence is a facade. Unless you start a successful business or become an internet sensation/celebrity, you’ll always live a life of trying to scrape by, working most days while older generations critique younger people for being lazy (despite most of us having 2 or more jobs to get by!). Not everyone can own a business or become a celebrity. Not everyone WANTS that. The belief that you can do anything in this country just by pulling up your boot straps is false. I am also understanding why certain people want history to be eased or told differently than it actually happened. The world is bad, but it is so much worse than I thought.

That’s not to say there isn’t any good in life. There definitely is. It’s just difficult to find. There’s a saying about knowing there’s kindness in the world because one is kind. I like to think it’s true. I try to be kind as often as I can. I try to appreciate the small things in life as often as I can.

But how long of that will I have to do, will others have to do, until we are able to have our needs met. When businesses aren’t charging an arm and a leg for food or clothes. Donation centers selling second hand clothing are even inflating their prices. In addition to corporations squeezing money out of everyone, there’s also the feeling of impending doom resulting from Climate change and/or nuclear war. Despite the world literally dying and flowers growing in Antártica, everyone still must adhere to the working standards for large corporations. Will it only end when everyone’s dead?

[sometimesbeforeitgetsbetter]

Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.

Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??

Word count: 8,227

A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!

--

All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.

It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.

Why do we have so many animal attacks?

What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?

Why did his eyes glow like that?

That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.

They just feel threatened by us, dear.

They’re in a better place now.

I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.

But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.

Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.

One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.

But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.

I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.

Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.

--

“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.

I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”

He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”

I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.

When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.

The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.

The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.

“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.

I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”

I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?

“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.

She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”

“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.

The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.

A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.

But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.

“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.

The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”

I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.

He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”

“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.

Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.

What are you hiding?

Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.

--

“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”

Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”

I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.

Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.”

I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”

“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.

With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.

“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.

Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”

“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”

Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.

I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–

“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”

“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.

I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.

“You say that now, but–”

“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”

--

Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.

I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.

Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.

By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.

“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.

She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”

I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.

“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.

“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.

She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”

The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.

The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.

“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.

“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”

Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?

I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.

I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.

“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.

I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.

“Yeah, sure.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”

Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.

The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.

He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.

I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.

After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.

“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”

“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”

I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”

“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.

Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”

Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”

--

After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.

Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.

“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.

She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.

Healing? Is he injured?

“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.

When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.

I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.

“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”

“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”

“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.

I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”

“No!” All three of them yelled at me.

It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.

As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.

“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.

That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.

Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.

“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.

She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”

Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.

“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.

When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started

She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.

We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.

“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.

“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.

“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.

She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.

Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.

The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–

Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.

“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.

Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.

“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.

It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.

Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.

We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.

Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”

With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

--

When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?

Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.

I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.

As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.

In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.

--

The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.

Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.

Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.

After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.

Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”

Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”

“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.

“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.

To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”

--

Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.

I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.

Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.

Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.

Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”

“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”

“Tomorrow.”

“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”

“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”

“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”

As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.

I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.

Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…

“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”

A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.

To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.

“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.

“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”

He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”

“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.

I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.

“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”

Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”

Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”

He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”

The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.

The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?

As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?

At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.

“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”

Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.

I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.

“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.

--

“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.

I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”

“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”

“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”

“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.

Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”

He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.

I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”

I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.

But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.

--

All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.

But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.

The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.

We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?

We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”

He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.

“I knew you could do it,” he said.

I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”

A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”

“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”

Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.

This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.

--

I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.

“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.

I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”

She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.

Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.

We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.

I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.

“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”

Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.

His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”

“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”

His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”

I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”

He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.��

“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”

[bigteefsmallbrain]

SOULMATE AU HEADCANONS

So, Soulmate AU where when you talk out loud to yourself, your soulmate can hear you and vice versa, but actively trying to have a conversation with them doesn't work. I'm here, it's 8:43 in the afternoon as opposed to 3:29 AM when I first came up with this.

SOULMATE AU HEADCANONS FOR: Shoto Todoroki, Rin Okumura, and Sakura Haruno

Shoto Todoroki

Aha, good luck finding out you have a soulmate in the first place with this one

He literally does not speak out loud to himself

Not at first that is

He also is clueless about soulmates, like, as soon as he hears your voice he’s google searching “Why is there a voice in my head talking about how their family is disrespecting Ramen?”

When he does realize that it’s his soulmate, he won’t actively pursue speaking to himself or finding you

Actively being the key word here

He wants to believe he doesn’t care and that his soulmate, whoever they are, will just get in his way

But that doesn’t stop him from focusing solely on you when you talk

Or trying to reply to you sometimes

And it certainly doesn’t stop him from subconsciously starting to speak to himself

Which, by the way, scared the piss out of you the first time

You didn’t even know you had a soulmate till that point

so hearing a male voice in your head go “I can’t believe they only serve hot soba here”

Would understandably frighten you

He doesn’t even realize it at first until his father gets pissed at him for mumbling

And he’s just like “oh” and immediately stops, as soon as he realizes from then on

Like you’ll be going about your day, hear him start to speak, then cut himself off

Which is disappointing

His sudden radio silence changes drastically after his fight with Midoriya

Like after getting knocked out by Bakugo and being put into the infirmary, he decides to check over himself while mumbling or if Recovery Girl lists his injuries for him, he’ll repeat them under his breath

Which, scares you obviously, but you’re also glad he’s not dead or something

He starts rating cold soba that he has or has had in the past

Reviewing his day

Talking about Midoriya

Which worries you, does he have a crush? Are they just good friends? Is this ‘Midoriya’ going to steal your soulmate

I stg, Midoriya has become a love rival and the poor boy has no idea

You’re stalking him on the internet trying to find anything you can on him to make sure you can outdo anything he does

He can knit? Oh look, professional lessons and equipment

He does Yoga? Aha, you have never been more flexible in your life

Anything he’s done? You are now doing it better than he ever could

Todoroki doesn’t have this same fear, his parents weren’t soulmates, and he fully trusts you, you’re made for each other, literally

When you finally meet, it’s so unexpected, and he blue screens

Here? Now? Who? What’s yesterday?

He’s not functioning

Todoroki.exe has crashed

Person too pretty

You’re not any better though

Honestly, have you seen this man? He’s model material

Worth millions

You both stare at each other for a good while before Midoriya comes and breaks the silence

And Todoroki makes the mistake of going “Oh, hey Midoriya” and paying attention to him

The fire has been lit, RIP Midoriya Izuku, an innocent man

Rin Okumura

You have a collection of recipes

He talks A LOT when cooking, like, he’s a walking cookbook, going through each step and ingredient

Even for recipes of his own creation

Which he never writes down and frequently forgets

So when you meet, he’s convinced he died and went to heaven

All his beautifully crafted recipes and instructions, he may cry when you show them to him

He also reads out loud to himself, so prepare for that

All the Manga, any book he may read, some new recipe he found on the internet

He reads it out, and sometimes does different voices for other characters

Which is great and all, but since he’s a dropout, it’s literally at all the worst times

Doing a math quiz? He’s crying while reading a romance manga

Trying to study? Good luck with that, he’s dramatically reenacting a action manga panel

He watches Hell's Kitchen and other cooking shows

And RAMBLES

He’s talking about how this technique would be better

Or how he should try recreating that dish later

Critiquing how something turned out

Making a dish along with the show

Now, for him, every time he hears your voice, he freezes

Like, physically freezes

No thoughts, head empty, only soulmate

He will not respond until you’re done talking to yourself

And he commits whatever you say to memory

If you talk about a certain food, he is IMMEDIATELY in the kitchen either A) Learning the recipe for it, or B) Making sure he can still cook it

I can, nearly guarantee, that this man will invite you to his home for breakfast/lunch/dinner when you meet, and cook literally everything you’ve ever mentioned

And continue to cook for you after that

Like, he goes from “I wish to eliminate my birth father” to “The way of the house husband, Okumura style”

When you both meet, he pounces on you

No, I mean literally

He leaps on top of you

No hesitation

As soon as he hears your voice

It’s a immediate cuddle session on the floor

Or if you manage to stay upright, he’s clinging to you like a koala

No, you can’t escape or avoid

And if you DO stay upright, he will continue to lunge at you every time he is within jumping distance

Sakura Haruno

Yes, she may be seen as annoying or useless, but I like her, so I’m going to self indulge, and you can’t stop me

That doesn’t mean I'm gonna sugar coat this though

THIS GIRL GOES THROUGH ALL FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF IN THREE HOURS, AND MOST OF IT IS CRYING

She has spent who knows how long pursuing a toxic, probably Naruto-sexual, duck lookin emo DISASTER only to find out he’s NOT her soulmate?

“I went on this diet, and for what? Nothing”

“I bet it’s wrong, it has to be, right? Sasuke can’t NOT be my soulmate, RIGHT!?”

Yeah, she’s in a sad/denial state for about a week after that

And even after, she’s still salty

It’s not until Sasuke leaves, telling Sakura to go pursue HER soulmate instead of some stupid skin deep crush that she really begins to get OVER him and get INTO you

Except you’ve had enough of her Sasuke BS, so she not only needs to let go of her long time crush, but also make it up to her soulmate

The first time she says something about getting over Sasuke and wanting to be with her soulmate, you laugh, and she hears because you DON’T want to talk to her

“Does she really think one sentence is going to fix years of heartbreak?”

Now, when you put it like that, she cringes, and realizes that there's a lot of damage she caused

Honestly, when you two meet, you don’t recognize each other immediately, due to the fact that you don’t speak to her often or care to remember her voice

You probably found her with her head in her hands, probably eating away her woes at Ichirakus

You slide in, very smoothly, might I add, and ask what’s wrong while ordering yourself a bowl

She tells you the surface, that a friend ran from the village, which is true, but not what she’s sad about

You give her advice, chit chat a bit longer, getting to know each other, before paying for both her and your bowl and heading off

Never gave any names, just friendly conversation

You run into each other more frequently, growing closer with each talk, finally knowing each others names

Never mentioning meeting each other when talking to yourselves though

Eventually, using your advice when Sakura mentioned her soulmate was mad at her, you grew to forgive your soulmate

The two of you got such Deja Vu because of it too, since you were talking to each other and listening to the other ramble to themselves

Till one day, one of you mention the others name

And the other is like, “Oh my gosh [Y/N or Sakura] is my soulmate”

And then you both know

And the next time you see each other it’s a bit awkward, until Sakura says “So uh, I used your advice”

And you burst out laughing, conversation flowing as it would from there

You do hold a vendetta against Sasuke though, and after getting to know Sakura, it just gets 10 times worse

Like you’re ready to knock his teeth in if you ever see him

The pure, unadulterated rage you hold for him grows with every hate crime against Sakura he makes

Like, she tries to help him, now platonically, and he tries to kill her

There is no end to your rage

Everyone knows not to mention his name around you now

White boy better run and run fast if y’all ever meet

Yes, I do simp for pink haired characters, what are you gonna do about it?

If you’d like to see more headcanons, be that for this AU, or something else, feel free to submit an ask or comment! I hope you enjoyed these little headcanons!

[snowstark]

Anon with the arts v stem bs for you, could you write a thing where Peter is in your position trying to write an essay when his brain Just Won't Work Right To Do The Words and he asks Tony for help and Tony's like *cracks knuckles* "get on your knees, baby boy, I'm writing this whole thing for you and you're gonna have your mouth stuffed with my cock until I'm done"

my god i saw this at like 7 am and went “shit, yes. i have to write this” before passing the fuck back out until 10. also sorry it’s late, i got carried away 

we say thank you, we say please.

you can also read on ao3!

“Ugh!”

Tony glanced over at yet another one of Peter’s noises of complaint. They had grown in severity and loudness over the past few minutes, and the angry crinkle in Peter’s forehead told him just how frustrated the younger boy was.

“Fuck!”

Tony sniffed a smile, amused. “You doin’ okay, baby?”

“No,” Peter bit back, slamming his forehead onto the desk. “This stupid essay isn’t working out. Why am I even writing an essay? Isn’t the whole point of science to experiment?”

“And reflect on your findings,” Tony corrected with a roll of his eyes. He got up from his seat and came over, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder to peer at the laptop screen. “Lemme see what you have.”

“Be my guest.” Peter tried to get up, but stilled when Tony shoved him back down.

Humming, Tony read over the introduction Peter had managed to craft, then wordlessly reached out and highlighted the whole thing before deleting it.

“Hey!”

“Hm?” Tony smiled at him sweetly.

“Why’d you do that?” Peter seethed with a pout.

“Because it was trash,” Tony replied. “And I know you know that it was.” He held Peter’s gaze until the fire in it died down a bit, and waited until Peter dropped his gaze.

Miserably, the younger boy picked at his nails. “I’m gonna fail this course. I’m not smart enough.”

“Don’t say that.” Tony’s voice was sharp. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again; you hear me?”

Silence, then a petulant look.

Something Tony clicked. He reached out, slid a hand through Peter’s soft curls, and tightened his hand into a fist, pulling hard enough for Peter to hiss through his teeth. “I said, you hear me?”

“Yes,” Peter muttered. “Ow! You’re gonna pull my hair out if you don’t—ow, yes! Yes, Daddy.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” Tony eyed Peter for a few more seconds, then let go. “You should start off with the basics. Think of a good hook, but don’t you dare try and make a statement about society or some shit like that. Profs hate it.”

“I can’tttt,” Peter whined. “It just doesn’t work.” He turned to look at Tony with his best puppy eyes. “Maybe you could write it for me.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, honey, hilarious. Now you want to commit an academic offense.”

Peter glared. “This entire essay is an offense! To me! And if you don’t help me, I’m going to fail, Tony. Okay? I’m gonna get a big, fat, ugly zero—”

“You sure you want me to help?” Tony interrupted, a wicked, filthy plan suddenly forming in his mind. He nudged Peter out of his seat and sat down, appraising him, mouth already watering in anticipation. “Because you know I don’t do things for free, sweetheart. You’ll need to pay me back somehow, show me how grateful you are.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that massage you’ve been asking for—”

Tony barked out a laugh that silenced him. He let his hands drop to the buttons on his jeans, enjoying the way Peter’s eyes immediately followed the movement. “Oh, no, no, no, baby. That’s not what I’m asking for.” He pressed the palm of his hand to his dick, and looked at Peter with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” Peter immediately said. Tony didn’t miss the way he sounded a little more strained now, eyes still fixed on the tent in Tony’s boxers. “I’ll pay you back.”

Tony smirked, then snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor. “Get on your knees, baby boy. I’m writing this whole thing for you and you’re gonna have your mouth stuffed with my cock until I’m done.”

Peter dropped to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and looked up at Tony expectantly, licking his lips.

“You know what I love about you, honey?” Tony drawled, sprawling his legs wide open, enjoying the way Peter immediately leaned closer. He pushed a hand through his hair again and leaned close so that they were nose-to-nose.

Peter tried to kiss him, almost instinctively, and Tony laughed before gently pushing him away. “You’re always so”—Tony yanked his head back harshly with the grip on his hair, eliciting a gasp—“fucking”—A sharp slap to his face, making Peter moan—“grateful.” A caress now, to counter the heat blooming in Peter’s cheek. “Isn’t that right?” He ran the pad of his thumb across Peter’s bottom lip.

Peter stared up at him adoringly in response, eyes wide.

The boy was already completely out of it, Tony noted with amusement. So responsive. Beautiful. He let his thumb brush against his flushed cheeks before sitting back and gesturing to the zipper on his pants.

“Go on, then,” he murmured, watching Peter’s eyes flash eagerly. “I undid the button for you, didn’t I? I think you can do the rest by yourself.” He stopped Peter with a hum when the boy reached out with his hands, and he shook his head. “No, baby. With your teeth.”

Peter swallowed, then obediently wriggled forwards and mouthed at the zipper, trying to get a good grip on it with his mouth.

Tony watched him for a few moments before reaching out to pet his hair as silent encouragement. It took Peter a few more seconds before he managed to pull it down, and Tony grinned when the boy immediately nuzzled closer, mouthing at his cock almost hungrily.

Tony pulled him back a bit before holding a hand out in front of Peter. “Spit.” Once Peter obeyed, he took himself in his hand and stroked in long, lazy motions, not taking his eyes off of the boy for a single moment. After a few minutes, Peter began to make impatient little noises at the back of his throat, just as Tony had expected him to.

“Needy thing,” Tony crooned, then smacked Peter’s face with his dick, making the sub jolt. Peter looked up, eyes glazed over, practically whacked into submission now. “Open up. I wanna see you gagging on it, you hear me? Don’t you dare try and slack off.”

Peter nodded in quick little jerks of his head, mouth falling open immediately at the order.

Tony fed his cock into Peter’s mouth inch by inch, wet and warm and ready for him, until Peter had taken him into his mouth nearly completely. He ran a hand through the sub’s curls, then shifted, feeling his cock hit the back of Peter’s throat, and pulled the laptop closer to him. He felt Peter’s cheeks hollow as he tried to swallow in vain around his cock, and Tony cursed quietly under his breath at the spasm of Peter’s throat.

Right. The essay.

He sucked the inside of his cheek, thinking, before beginning to type.

Biophysics is critical to our understanding of the mechanics of the molecules in our lives, and how complex systems and beings function, which, according to—

Tony stopped when Peter’s cheeks hollowed yet again and he looked down, raising an eyebrow. “You need something?”

Peter’s eyes widened and he shook his head as best as he could, then pulled back to wipe the drool on his chin with the back of his hand. “Just—was just tryin’ to swallow, Daddy.” God, he already sounded wrecked, voice rough and throaty.

“What, embarrassed that you were making a mess of yourself?” Tony chuckled, then shoved his hand into Peter’s hair before yanking him back onto his dick. “Stay. There. Your job is to be the filthy, needy thing you are while being grateful for what I’m giving you. Remember what I said about wanting your mouth to be stuffed with it until I’m done? You think I was joking about that?”

A small whine; Tony gave him the benefit of the doubt because he was feeling generous today and assumed it was a ‘no.’

He went back to work after that, and for the next half hour, the only sounds that filled up the room was his typing and the occasional little noise Peter made, whether it be a small exhale from his nose or an attempted swallow of his throat.

He took the time to finish, then ran through it three times to edit it. After the last run, he finally—finally—looked down at Peter, whose eyes were closed, eyelashes occasionally fluttering with each shallow inhale he took through his nose.

Tony rested his hand on Peter’s head, watching him, then murmured, “Good boy. Get me off now, sweetheart. Show Daddy how good you can be.”

Peter was more than eager to obey, and in less than five minutes, Tony was swearing under his breath, hips canting without his permission, and he could barely stutter out a warning before he came down Peter’s throat.

Peter took it like a champ, swallowing every drop and only pulling off when Tony made him. Panting, he looked up at Tony, eyes wide and teary.

Tony brushed a thumb over his cheek for a few moments, then murmured, “Good boy.”

When Peter reached for his leaking, red cock, Tony snapped sharply, “Ah-ah! What’re you doing? You think you deserve to get off by yourself? No, baby, you have to earn that.”

Peter looked up at him through wet eyelashes. “But I—” He gestured vaguely to Tony.

“What, made me come?” Tony rolled his eyes. “No, sweetheart. That was just you thanking me for writing your essay. All you had to do was drool all over my cock and show me how grateful you were for my generosity. Not exactly a hard feat like, say, writing an essay, is it? Not for a greedy little thing like you, at least.”

Peter stared at him, jaw slack and hanging open.

Tony grinned, and it was mean. “This, though...” He reached down and formed a loose ‘o’ with his hand, stroking Peter’s cock from the base to the head in one easy, smooth motion. “We’ll see about this. Get on the bed.”

Peter immediately scrambled to obey, and Tony’s grin grew.

Oh, he was going to make Peter beg, and enjoy every single moment of it.

__________

A few weeks later, Peter came marching up to Tony’s desk, then slapped down a package of paper.

Tony raised an eyebrow.

Peter jabbed his index finger at the 98%, written and circled in red, at the top of the first page. “My essay,” he said, proudly, making Tony bite back a laugh.

“A ninety-eight,” Tony mused, picking it up and leafing through it. “Not bad, huh?”

“It’s perfect.” Peter maneuvered himself onto his lap, straddling him and mouthing along his neck.

“Two percent away from perfect.” Tony tossed the paper back onto the desk and let his hands drift down to squeeze Peter’s ass, hard enough for his nails to dig in even through the sweatpants. “Should’ve been a hundred. Must’ve lost a mark or two ‘cause your mouth distracted me.”

“Not my fault I’m so good,” Peter chirped.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh, good at being a filthy slut.”

Peter ignored him. “Besides, maybe next time you’ll get that hundred for me.”

Grinning, Tony pulled back to look at Peter’s face, then kissed him, wet and hard and sloppy. Peter’s chest was heaving by the time they pulled apart, and he pushed his thumb through his lips and into his mouth, watching him suck languidly for a few moments before saying, “Yeah, baby boy. You’re right. There’s always next time.”

Because they both knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

[twopoppies]

Firstly No pressure to read any of the below it’s just a lil rant after I ended up on the wrong side of tumblr!! ( + I have ADHD and i forgot my meds lol so its a bit disoriented and all over the place) and no response necessary unless you want to!

Oh god I accidentally ended up on the wrong side of tumblr....never ever ever ever again, I went back so fastttt lol im laughing at myself rn for how quickly i clicked away from disgust

i ended up on a blog that stalks u and some other larries and says absolutely atrocious things abt louis (I can send u their @ if u'd like so u can block them) and fully bought the stunt bs happening rn and it was horrible obvs but like i just do not understand like it was so creepy gina and im just so disgusted bc why? yk?

like u were not joking abt anti's actually being obsessed with larries - like half this person's blog was talking abt you and amy and i was just so shocked cause why??? like mate come on what the actual f? get a life please?? (im quite new so im like just now realising how insanely weird and obsessed these anti's are)

Also it was just an overall eye opener for multiple things:

Starting with that 1. the way 1DHQ and 1D Management managed to alienate larries actually worked and i like knew but truly doing a proper deep dive and seeing multiple blogs hate on larries and like obsessively stalk us was insane?? Like they truly believe everything they’re being fed???

Side Note: Lowkey feeling very lucky to have had the education i have because even before i even joined this fandom i believed partially none of the relationships in the news bc like i knew abt this industry and how it worked yk? i mean its logic? i have so many mates that arent even in the fandom that know i am in the fandom and texted me when the articles started rolling out calling it out for what it was: A PR stunt

Hell someone i know whom i had never even talked abt fandom stuff/stunt stuff fully texted me making a joke out of it!!! like people who aren’t even in our fandom can see it and its just insanely surprising that if they can why cant the antis?? im just a bit shocked rn

both from 1. finding someone who actually believes in this stunt and 2. multiple blogs that fully commit their time to stalking u and other larries and once again i knew but fully seeing it

YK AT FIRST I WAS LIKE IS THIS A JOKE I DIDNT BELIEVE IT GINA I THOUGHT SOMEONE WAS PULLING MY LEG OR THIS PERSON WAS IDK BEING SARCASTIC AND HAD A MESSED UP SENSE OF HUMOUR but ye anyway

It made me realise that 1DHQ knew what the fuck they were doing when they were trying to alienate larries from the rest of the fandom, once again i am feeling extraordinarily grateful to have grown up with an education where i was literally taught to never trust anything and to always think things thru using logic - “does it makes sense to you? if not find out why, there usually a reason behind everything” my yr 9 english teacher used to say smth like that all the time and it just never left me bc she was always teaching us to judge everything and to take every piece of news we read entertainment or otherwise with a grain of salt and to always if we’re gonna give someone else our opinion or spread this information do our research (its what i am when i say i feel lucky to have had the education i have had)

Eye Opener 2: Anti’s are fully standing y’all u were 100% correct this is some next level stan behaviour if i’ve ever seen some, you’re famous gina!!

It is while surprisingly to realise that anti’s fully believe these things, more surprising to see how they treat larries bc why on earth would u treat any other human being this way??? like dont get me wrong they’re horrible ppl and i fully felt like sending them a message telling them exactly that but i would never bc i just dont want to make another person feel bad abt themselves even if they are that shitty of a person and it was very tempting

I just would like to understand why they feel the need to do this? like why hate on a whole other person? for what believing smth diff to u? having a difference of opinion? how tf are they gonna make it when they get a job??? like??? do u know how often i run into a person with a different opinion then me? it shouldn’t be that big of a deal! we should still be able to be friends with antis! but we’re not - not for lack of trying btw!! they’re just so mean and rude??? when i was in other fandoms when someone believed different things there was never this much hatred at someone for it!! hell there was barely any bc it was understood that it was normal to have diff opinions abt things and i just am truly fascinated by these ppl i swear they remind how stupid the human race can sometimes be not for what they believe (altho ngl a lil of that too) but for how they treat other ACTUAL human beings with different opinions to them

Eye Opener 2.5: Some people need lives, man like they proper do need lives and something to do maybe a hobby or smth? just like a life they need to get one of those and actual live it

and Eye Opener 3: I already felt this way but like even god damn stronger now you deserve a formal apology from both 1DHQ and the universe

and until we get that u deserve amazing things coming from the boys on your bdays to make up for it

Lastly Gina I hope you didn't read thru all that bc I couldn’t even read it over and thus sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes and I would also like to say that I love your blog and everything about you! you’re an absolute angel and one of the kindest ppl I have ever had the pleasure of well not meeting but stumbling across, you truly make this fandom a much much much better place with your presence (I shudder to think of it without u) that said if you ever need to take breaks or leave Im sure you already know but you should 100%

You first!!! Always! :)

Have a good day Gina, I hope its an absolutely amazing one!

Hi darling. LOL! Reading this was like talking with my kids when they don't take their ADHD meds. Lots of excited thoughts!! I loved it.

And yeah, that blog and their 4 followers are really... not well. But you're very right. 1DHQ made this fandom a breeding ground for people to hate larries and to think it's something Harry and Louis would both approve of. It's gross.

The gaslighting here is powerful, so thank goodness for fans like you who know to question what they're told and to look at things with logic and to do their best to see through their own biases.

Thank you for all the sweet words and your offer to kick butt (in your other message). I really appreciate it!

[ciceroprofacto]

Well I don't know if this may come as rude but. Honestly, I'd like a lot that in a certain moment, soa has more of that ofmd energy you mentioned: not giving a fuck of what actually happened, but staying somehow not out of reality.

I couldn't read soa in one week. I had to read it in four months for the huge emotional charge it is. And I had to re read previous chapters or some paragraphs before continuing because I had almost forgotten what was there before. I know you want this to be serious and you're putting a LOT of effort in it. It's noticeable, and I think I haven't ever seen a fic writer make that much effort in their writing.

But the plot, characters and themes (philosophical themes) sometimes are not simply a lot to handle. They're too much to handle, making it difficult for people with already busy lifes read it.

Sorry if I made any spelling or grammar mistake. English isn't my first language, and I practically learned it by myself. Thanks.

I'm vibing as much as I can with the meaning, but I do have a little confusion and I don't want to misunderstand, so correct me if I'm wrong. It seems like you're saying the tone of it doesn't take itself too seriously, but the themes and plot are really heavy. I think that's absolutely true!

But, I could do it better

The strength of comedy is that you're able to make heavy things lighter and it gives more people the ability to carry it. Which is exactly why ofmd has blown up where Black Sails didn't- despite BS being basically as-perfect as a show can be (Taika Waititi's name on ofmd definitely helps). It's the difference between having comedic relief and being a comedy. BS is an epic period drama that's with a touch, funny. Ofmd is really well-made comedy that's able to convey fairly-heavy themes because it nails the notes between things that are jokes and things that are not jokes. But, it also isn't quite as ambitious as Black Sails on what themes it's taking on- it skirts carefully around period-typical homophobia, racism, and sexism by creating a bubble in which those things have less influence, whereas Black Sails dunks you headfirst into that reality.

Since I'm trying to take on similar issues, I've been taking my tonal cues more from Black Sails. But, there's a lot that I can learn from ofmd's escapism, because it somehow manages to still be immersive despite not going into depth on some of those concepts, and because they don't go so far into those concepts they're able to focus on the more-accessible nuances of human emotion like found family, self-discovery, and falling in love. While it's important to take on issues and ensure the tone reflects the gravity of those issues- taking on some issues shouldn't be a commitment to take on all issues because then the tone becomes so burdensome no one can stomach the weight of the story anymore.

Basically- ofmd shows you don't have to delve into every little plot tangent to make an immersive period piece, and tangents are definitely my biggest weakness as a writer. What you're calling 'effort' is what I consider my little 'fascinations'. Half the time I'm writing plot around the research that I was doing for fun and half the time I'm researching to connect holes in the story. It's the plot vs story balance, and I think both SOA and BS try and keep those two on equal-footing while ofmd is character-focused with the story taking priority over plot. SOA and BS's style lets things get complicated and can be really intellectually-impressive, whereas ofmd's style is a lot more streamline and emotionally-impactful.

It's also nice that ofmd gives a lot of leeway to anachronisms. SOA and BS aren't exactly high-brow compared to the source material, but the language is still less-accessible than a show that just totally doesn't bother with 18th c. dialogue.

tldr; SOA is hard to read and I can do more to fix that.

Themes- people want to laugh, no one wants to laugh at injustice.

Tone- escapism is easier to stomach than realistic conflict.

Content- more people care about story than plot.

Delivery- more people understand what the fuck you're saying if characters talk like modern humans.

[academla]

Guys, I made it!

Wow, it’s crazy to be back on here. I don’t know if anyone still follows me and/or remembers I exist, at this point. I came here because I finally let go of my domain name. It was a really difficult decision which felt like leaving a part of my life behind me and closing a chapter, but I don’t use this blog enough anymore to justify the cost. 

I created this blog over FIVE years ago. It’s associated with so many memories - primarily good, but also some of the shittiest times of my life. Regardless, my time in the studyblr community was pretty formative and I’m so glad I was able to experience it. I have zero regrets and never will.

Even though I’m leaving it behind indefinitely, my blog will forever be a part of me. I’m still getting emails and some comments on the fanfic that somehow stirred up controversy and drama in 2017, I actually sent The Academic Zine to one of my account leads at work the other day, and in my interview for my current job I talked a lot about how running my blog influenced and reflected who I am, my strengths as well as my weaknesses. I’m still in touch with the company that reached out to me about collaborating on a self-help book so you never know... maybe someday the stars will align and that will pan out!

This is more for my own closure than anything (so please forgive my rambling) but I know I have periodically come here and posted brief updates. If I recall correctly, they are usually also associated with empty promises/declarations of an inevitable return, which I can safely say is most likely not going to happen anytime soon.

Hard to believe I had just graduated high school when I first joined. To those who still remember me and my journey - trying to juggle mental health, school, and paying my way through college - here’s a final (for now... I’ll probably be on here in another 5 years when all the people I used to follow are like, getting married and having babies LOL) update on my achievements in the past year or so. I’m by no means perfect and I have a long but exciting road ahead of me, but put in the context of the person I was even 2 years ago, I would say with cautious optimism and pride that I did indeed make it.

Updates below, in case you aren’t reeling enough from the wall of text that just unexpectedly popped up on your dash...

- I graduated summa cum laude from the honors college in May 2020 with my psychology BS and the 4.0 GPA that my mental health sometimes seemed destined to make an impossible achievement. Even in the end I had to take an Incomplete for one of my courses because I was unfortunately in the midst of a relapse. This shit is real, guys. But even in spite of it, I was able to succeed.

- I paid for 6 out of all 8 semesters, as was my goal all along - through working my ass off and trying to be somewhat responsible with money. Donations I received through here were a massive help as well and I’ll be forever grateful for each and every person who contributed. I also applied for and received a few merit scholarships, which helped. I graduated with $15k of debt, which is less than half the national average. So, I did pretty well for myself.

- I’ve undergone some tough mental health challenges and hurdles. Some of the darkest times I’ve ever sustained, where I was scared for/of myself and was so much worse than I was when I was 15 yet had so fewer resources. Somehow I made it through - and will continue to. I made that pledge in 2015 and I still stand by it.

- I’m now working for a market research company. I knew by graduation that I didn’t want to be in academia, but I didn’t know if I had enough passion/commitment to a clinical career to undergo the financial, mental, and academic burden of a graduate program. I had a minor existential crisis over that all summer. Fortuitously, I emailed one of my favorite psychology professors from my freshman year and her son-in-law was able to refer me to this market research company. Everything came together and I love my job more than ANYTHING. Work is (most of the time) incredibly fun and something I look forward to every day. 

- EDITED TO ADD: I’m also living on my own in the city, hooray! I thought the day would never come, but luckily it did. It’s painfully expensive (because city) but for the amenities, location, and quality of the 1-bedroom apartment relative to many other options I looked at, it’s worth it. We can reassess whether or not I’m broke in August when the lease is up.

Listen, I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’ve dealt with a lot of adversity and trauma, too. And at the same time I am fortunate: I was raised in a (mostly) loving household, I was afforded educational opportunities that not everyone is lucky enough to have, I was able to get the help and support I needed when I was unsafe. I won’t invalidate my own struggles because the hard work I’ve invested, the literal blood, sweat, and tears, all of that - that was real and valid. But I don’t take a single thing for granted.

I made it, and you can too. If you are a stranger wondering who the hell I am, you can go here if you want to be assaulted by a wall of text, or here for a more concise and recently updated synopsis.

That’s all I’ll say for now (did anyone miss my novel-length posts?) but I do still manage my email address (academlastudyblr@gmail.com) if for any reason anyone is looking to connect. 

Just for the hell of it, I’m also updating some of my pages. Catch you (I’m talking into a void right now, I know) on the flip side!

[moreoutrageousthanme]

Hi do you have any advice for someone who wants to start being a sugar baby?

honestly it isn’t something i would recommend to anybody unless you are very very very sure that it is for you. if you think it is; why? what makes you sure? even then go read a handful of horror stories and think about it more.

i wanted to do sw for years and found sugaring to be the way I felt most in control of my safety (lol escorts have much more established screening method so I was wrong which is why I shouldn’t have started when I did) but I want to be VERY CLEAR THAT IT IS DANGEROUS. I was tied up filmed and assaulted by someone I had seen for a YEAR and knew everything about. to repeat someone who had everything to lose - family, work, public image - still put his shitty desires above that and me. 

the danger never stops even if you feel like you can trust someone and before you start you really need to commit to that understanding. You can have a good relationship with an SD and you should enjoy being around them (or at least find it tolerable) but you have to assume everyone is a threat to start and have a good understanding of red flags. 

That said here is some actual advice:

- if it sounds too good to be true it is. repeat that every fucking day. finding an SD takes weeks if not months and isn’t going to happen during a pandemic. 

- escorts are the ones you want to listen to about safety and sex NOT other SBs (including me). there will also be local SWer organizations you should engage with before you even make a profile. what do they say about the laws? keeping safe? what resources do they offer?

- i'm going to find/reblog a post with a list of things you need to know/be able to define before you start. some big ones are: what is screening? what are the laws in my country on sw? what are the penalties if im caught? what apps/ways can I acquire a fake number? how will I protect my identity? how will I get to and from dates?

- freestyling is better than websites if you’re not tied down. there are millions of rich men in the world and even if your city is too small to date multiple ones at a time having one consistent man who is happy to pay for your apartment, bills, groceries is better than having flaky tinder SDs. fuck I've had men I'm not sleeping with offer me apartments when I complained about my roommates being shitty because they want me to be happy (and want to sleep with me don’t be dumb). quality over quantity. that said, you can’t ask men from the bar for an allowance in exchange for your time but follow the money. if he isn’t openly paying for things for you he isnt going to pay for more, like an apartment, later. see how they tip if you can, see if they give you cash for a cab home (I have a ex SD turned friend who to this day pays for everything we do and gives me cash for my ride home and it’s always much more than any cab would cost).

- most of what is on Tumblr is genuine BS and a lot comes from girls making a $100 thinking they’re professional. My guilty pleasure is listening to POTs on the first date compliment me for being “real” and describing women acting like this website tells them too. They literally get laughed at by these men. So take everything with a grain of salt and think “does this make sense from my experience with men or does this sound like someone’s idea of holding instagram “feminine power” over men. 

- do YOU and not other people. I have (toned down) political opinions and can talk in depth about politics on a global scale so I don’t avoid that, being well read means you need to be able to talk about books. like, fun books idgaf about economics. get good at critical thinking and you can make game of thrones into a treatment on American politics or American celebrity. 

- become a master at asking open ended questions. i might not care about economics but if a POT is interested in it then we can have an hour long conversation about it because I'm good at asking about information they enjoy sharing and listen carefully enough to continue the conversation in a way that doesn’t feel like an interview.

- condoms and birth control are not optional. end of story. oral... is hard and try to avoid it. 

- this is all I have time to write and it’s not even close to everything. go through sw Tumblr and read advice posts about: safety, sexual safety, getting tested, saving money, managing entitlement, fashion, lingere, keeping an SD, writing a profile, freestyling (if they mention asking for an allowance it isn’t real)

my biggest piece of advice is still to not do it. most people aren’t cut out for it and that is okay. there are lots of ways to make money in this world, this just happens to be my favourite for now.

[mediocre-writerr]

day 1 [leah rilke]

bring us through: leah rilke book

chapter 3: day 1

hey guys! i posted this on my wattpad (username:THEmediocrewriter11) a while back along with another chapter that’s after this one. if you guys follow it then you’ll get early access to chapters right when they come out! but i hope you enjoy chapter 3!

*not my gif*

My first thought this entire time: why would he do this? If God was real like everyone I’ve known said he is, then why is this happening? Causing me to feel this way, losing two important people in my life in the span of three months, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse it does.

The plane goes down. There’s a 1 in 11 million chance that the airplane will just drop right from the sky and crash. And luckily, for me, like I haven’t had a bad enough year, I am that 1 in 11 million. I’d rather be the 1 in 14 million to win the lottery, but I guess life just doesn’t work like that. Now does it?

I gasped for breath, the taste of unbearable amounts of salt overwhelming my tastebuds. My once dry clothes are now damp and soggy. I put my head on a swivel searching for anyone, but all I could see was the ocean.

“Shelby!!” I yelled, desperate to find my best friend. I squinted far enough to see someone lying on another piece of wreckage from this horrid plane crash. Everything seemed a bit fuzzy. Everything started to fade away from view as my vision started to become more and more fuzzy.

“Shelby…” I mumbled.

My dad threw my journal right at me. It landed on me with an unsatisfying thump, “What the hell is this?!”

“What’s what?” I asked, acting confused, but I knew what he saw. I know what he read. I guess a part of me just wanted to hope that he didn’t and he was angry that I accidentally cussed in one of my entries, but I know what’s in there.

“Don’t lie to me, Ray!” he shouted, picking up my journal and flipping it open to one of the entries, “Then she walked by my locker, my heart gives a flutter, but I didn’t dare utter a word. Because that would be absurd behavior for a little miss perfect.”

Journal Entry: January 7, 2019. How could I forget? How could I forget meeting her? The one girl who changed my life and ruined it all at once. Well I wouldn’t say she ruined it, but things got more complicated when she came in it.

I don’t regret any of it though. I could never regret her. He flipped through the pages again rereading yet another entry, “She stayed over one night. We laughed and shared enticing smirks. She takes a sip of her soda, her eyes never leaving mine. Next thing I know, I lose control. I finally kissed her.”

Journal Entry: March 3, 2019. Again how could I forget my first kiss with someone I actually cared about? I looked at him with tears in my eyes. And all he did was just throw the journal back at me.

“What is all the racket?” my mom came in, drying her hands off with a towel, leaning against the doorframe. She looks between me and my dad. The tears that stained my cheek and the death glare that my father was sending through my spine, “Honey, what’s going on?”

“Your daughter here is committing a sin that is unforgivable.” he spat, emphasizing the daughter part. He wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I wasn’t his daughter in his eyes.

“Wait, what?” she said, shaking her head.

“Rayleigh is gay.”

“Hey, hey! Are you okay?” I awoke to the bright-blue eyed girl staring at me, shaking me lightly. The cool ocean water is still lapping over me, soaking my clothes.

I lifted my head up abruptly, “Where’s-where’s Shelby??” I yelled.

“I don’t know, but we need to get to shore c’mon!” she exclaimed. I examined the terrain to see plane debris everywhere. Wow so this really happened.

“Wait look over there!” I yelled, pointing at another unconscious body. She looked familiar and as I swam closer it was the girl who suggested ‘Never Have I Ever’, “Can you swim?” I asked the blue-eyed girl and she just nodded.

The two of us pushed the girl’ unconscious body to the shore. All three of us laid on the floor completely worn out from fighting the tides.

“Rayleigh is that you??” Dot asked, and she came into view and I just nodded, continuing to cough up the disgusting salt water I accidentally had.

I pointed to the unconscious girl on the floor, “Help,” I began to say, before a fit of coughs hit me like a wave, “Help her.” I finally managed to say. Dot nodded, making her way to the unconscious girl we just saved. And from the corner of my eye I could see her begin CPR.

And then there was Shelby who was helping another limping girl. I let out a breath of relief that I didn’t even know I was holding. She was okay, good, good. She gently placed the girl down on the sand next to Dot before rushing over to me.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked, frantically. Scanning her eyes over every inch of my body, looking for any injury.

“No I’m okay. Are you?” I asked and she just nodded. I looked over at Dot continuing to do CPR, a small crowd forming around her. The girls started bickering about how fast she was going when they didn’t even notice the bookworm girl who was passed on not too far away, “But I don’t think she is.”

I immediately got up from where I was lying down and as fast as the lightning flashed I was right by her side. I pressed my ear against her chest, trying to find a heartbeat despite all of the arguing. There was nothing there, so I put two fingers to her pulse, waiting slowly and patiently.

“I gotta do CPR.” I told Shelby and she just looked at me in shock.

“You were stranded in the middle of the ocean with them. How do you know that you’re not gonna drop dead while doing it too?” she asked, worried about my health and safety.

“I won’t, okay? I’m fine.” I promised my best friend in hopes that she will believe just a little ounce of it.

I didn’t wait for her answer though. I just started doing the CPR on the girl I was so infuriatingly rude to about reading a book. I guess it just reminded me of another time or well, another person.

“No she’s not Rhett. There’s no way.” my mom said, shaking her head. Trying not to believe the harsh reality that was already unfolding in front of her. But the thing is she knew. She always knew and I knew she knew. She just didn’t want to admit or say anything because she knew what my father would do.

“Oh yes she is. Many, many, disrespectful journal entries about something that is not natural!” he yelled. I looked at my mom and gave her a look, she was trying to hide the fact that she already knew, but she was a terrible liar. Luckily for her, my dad was so angry at me that all he could see was red.

“I can’t help the way I feel Dad! I love her!” I tried to plead with him, bargain, or do something. But it was no use, I don’t even know why I bothered trying.

He shook his head, folding his arms across his chest, “This is because you’re hanging out with Shelby all the damn time. I bet you were in on it with her and Becca Gilroy right?”

“This has nothing to do with Shelby!” I yelled back, “I have felt this way for as long as I could remember Dad! I can’t control it.”

“I don’t have an ounce of hate in my body.” he said, his voice getting softer. That was BS though. He has always had hate in his heart for anyone who tried to go against what he wanted, “But this is not what I want for you, honey.”

And with one last look he storms out of the room. I looked at my mom and shook my head at her in disapproval.

“You knew all along.” I whispered to her, just in case my father was anywhere near, “I needed you Mom. And you weren’t there. So thanks for being mother of the year.” I pushed past her and got into my car despite my father’s yelling and I drove to the one person I needed most.

The whole world started to grow fuzzy as I continued doing CPR. All of the exhaustion I was putting into keeping this girl alive was slowly diminishing my life. But out of the corner of my eye I could see the other girl Dot was helping, slowly waking up.

And with one last push of compressions, the blue-eyed girl shot up. But then I was on the floor as everything went black.

[miaxeu]

      though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, MIA STOEGER is actually a descendent of DIONYSUS. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-ONE year old MYTHOLOGICAL STUDIES MAJOR from LOS ANGELES, USA has taken after HER godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite CHARISMATIC & DUPLICITOUS. 

( y’all dont deserve this real messy intro but im workin w half a bwain cell at 4am so i beg thee 4 mercy. nywyy im the excited new girl who’s hella pumped to meet all ur charas : katya ! feel free to hop in my ims to plot or drop a like and i’ll hop in urs ! x  )

POWERS

natural acting abilities — her ma’s a hollywoo agent so she started actin real early & now shes a big shot actress. there r more deetz on her career below !

chlorokinesis — it wasnt as natural as acting n she only started working on it when she turned 13 n started going to camps. b4 she just noticed shes good w plants but it wasnt super crazy or nything. its p good now tho ! shes prioritizing vine binding and manipulation 4 the self defense bc awards r cool n all but they dont rlly protecc from monsters ykwim 

levitation — shes trying her best ur honor

alcokinesis  — she cant conjure it or anything, she’s just immune to it ffff

BIO POINTS — cw: drug use ( full biography here )

her mom raised her by herself bc dionysus the party god was out of the picture immediately. she never told mia she’s a demigod & it was always just “ wow ur so talented ” or “ aww u got a green thumb ! ” but when she saw him claim 13 y/o mia by placing a weird hologram over her head while she slept, she knew she had to spill da beanz & tell her kid

ofc mia thought her mom was jus playing sum weird acting exercise w her bc her powers r so lowkey she could highkey just be a Mortal but insert sad whistle, the realizashun & the claiming meant heightened monster threat !! so yea ,,, one ended up chasing her a couple days later rip 

aside from the trauma, mia was ok. mostly bc she ended up cryin for dionysus like any child would n lo & behold he came & helped !!! as he should. nywy she made sure to go to summer camps every year after that but mostly just for protection purposes

she lowkey rlly hates this whole god business esp now that shes grown lmfao deadass thinks she got a bad deal bc life threats arent sexy !!! went to eonia eventually bc its Too Much Man. she just wants to go back to work and her life w the mortals w/o worryin for her life. would deadass fade her father if she could. may or may not be majoring in greek mythology to figure out the logistics of it all out of spite, who knows !

PERSONALITY

not ! a Drama Queen  —  dont get me wrong, shes hella Extra in the way she moves n acts sorta like shes always bein captured on film. is quick-witted & playful & can be a huge tease/flirt if she feels like it, but miss her w Real Feelings ! totally not sentimental. srsly she will try to rationalize away everything and is just,.,., not good w it. so soz folks, we just keepin it breezy here

ugh, she’s an Actress — aka she can act like she cares tho ! shes very much into keeping ppl on her good side. shes friendly n palatable to everyone bc its how shes been trained & while it doesnt seem fake, its def diff when its genuine

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known —  lemme circle back to the first one, ok so shes good w emotions but only in theory. does intense character work with her roles so she thinks that counts as her having eq when rlly shes just emotionally stunted, projecting n repressing like an idiot

blonde, skinny, rich, & a lil bit of a Bitch — shes only a bitch inwardly or to ppl she trusts enuff to let in on the gossip. if anyone full on opposes her or becomes real emotional, then this lil diva will rear its superiority complex head n snap a lil. will most probably do it v underhandedly n w a smile but it will be Brutal

girls just wanna have FUN ! — shes the child of da party god, so ofc she a true party girl. officially off the rails when she parties. inhibitions ? we dk her. can be insensitive in that case bc smtms its truly no strings attached, tis all abt the fun. likes company a lot & it doesnt even have 2 be loud or particularly abt her, she just likes having people around n the escapism of it all. will make friends with everyone n make sure they have a jolly fun time guaranteed at dionysus parties 

Work Hard, Play Hard — real responsible when it comes to work and commitments and if she trusts/likes u enough, she’ll give it 2 u straight, no bs. def thinks Calling Out is an act of love but maybe does it a lil too harshly smtms. v much into efficiency, sentiments be damned. not the feely words type. will sit next to u or party w u or even pay 4 ur therapist if u need sum1 to talk to. she will Be There while u work thru it, so long as u dont expect her to change n be all emotional n stuff

if she seems a lil contradictory thats bc she kinda is. tis the good ol nurture vs nature. her ma’s a real no nonsense chick n her pops is a frat guy drama geek greek god whos rlly into cottagecore so u get this lil blonde bitch whos sorta teetering on the edges

OTHER INFO  — cw: drug use ( full headcanons here )

re her career, she achieved pegot status when she was 18 aka she truly b dat bitch. shes not super mainstream famous tho, more like indie sweetheart, film snobs/critics fave typa gal. if ya want a trajectory she started w baby commercials then a sitcom from 4-10 ( think modern fam’s lily ) then it was off to the big screen & the stage ! 

mia has a lil bit of a drug habit. its not abusive or dependent, but it is a staple whenever shes parties bc alcohol is useless 2 her. started a lil young too bc hollywoo. primarily uppers/hallucinogens. she smokes weed a lil more liberally but the rest is mostly just an on occasion thing ( which, ngl, is a still a lil problematic when u party a lot rip )

after she got claimed, mia ended up going to demigod camps in a lot of diff places n countries, depending on where production would take her. there was never an established place, more like wherever was nearest when they wrapped up shooting bc monsters afoot n wutnot  

she was always homeschooled but she still managed to go to a prom and homecoming bc party is life. that makes eonia uni p much her first chance at having a normal educational environment & experience and even then its anything but. still tho this is her moment !!! im lit rally begging her to get a personality that isnt her internally rolling her eyes going “ its not that deep ”

might put up a bio/stats page if im feelin sxc but i wud jus like the records to show that mia stoeger is a bi sxc babe bc me ? write a het ? no grassy ass.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS — cw: drug use ( full connections here )

omg danny devito i love ur work ! 

,,, p self explanatory sdkjfs sum1 who loves her work ! it can be lowkey/highkey fangirl to a civil admiration

OR alternatively, y/m can Not Be a fan of her work. they might think the storyline of the projects she takes on r too out of touch n highbrow yada yada yada, but yes, we love to see either of it ! 

summer camp sweetheart !  

someone she met when at camp when they were teens ? doesnt matter in what country/city, but mia was only visiting so it was truly a one summer romance typa thing. bc she was younger, im thinkin 13-17 or w/e she was probably sweeter n a lot more emotional then. was it either’s first puppy love ? first kiss ? first “ relationship ? ” idk, do yk ? truly, so many possibilities. nothin set in stone just hmu bub 

summer camp pals ! 

p much the same as above but make it Platonic

party buddies !

or druggie pals. either way works but she wud luv it if theyre both xoxo

friends w benefits !

most probably ( but not limited to ) sum1 she met at a party skdjhsjk is it exclusive ? is any1 starting to develop feelings ? im down 4 nthing n evrything

alexa play true friend by hannah montana !

give mia her college bestie ! her confidant who knows her feels and can call each other out viciously with no ounce of resentment. we stan the friendships !

omg i love ur skirt !

that is the ugliest effing skirt i've ever seen. lmao basically sum1 mia pretends to like or acts civil w but rlly ,,,, Cannot Stand for w/e rzn   

im p much braindead rn but those are just sum ideas !!! ofc the usual staples like the pals, enemies, wutnots are also v welcome we love to see it. if u also have a wc that u think mia would fit in, id luv to know more ! there are also a couple more detailed ones here, but pls feel free to shoot me a msg n we can get 2 plotting x 

( * wipes brow * how did i type so much n say so little rip. mia is also a completely new muse so pls b patient n if i fuq up from time to time, pretend u do not see >.< nywy thnx 4 readin, sweets ! feel free to hmu here or at discord if ya wanna <3333 )

FULL INFO  ||  EONIA TASKS 

[kthstrawberryshortcake]

That Should Be Me - kth drabble

Pairing: Taehyung x Female!Reader, Jin x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k+ Genre: Mostly angst, some fluff Topics: College!AU, Unrequited love Warning: Kinda sad but not TOO sad

No one ever sets out to end up in these sorts of situations, but lo and behold, they do. Are they unbelievably unlucky? Did they commit some unforgivable sin in a past life? Are they just lackluster people? Whatever the explanation, you too found yourself head over heels in love with someone who didn’t love you back. You had been friends since the start of freshman year when a friendly, cheerful boy in one of your classes introduced himself. Ever since then Taehyung had been a huge part of your life. He could make you smile even on what felt like the worst days, and he was one of the most caring people you had ever met. You didn’t realize you were falling until it was much, much too late. No one knew except for your two other closest friends, Jimin and Sara. 

The three of you had been roommates since sophomore year when you decided to live together, despite others’ comments that a guy living with two girls was a bit of a weird situation. It had never felt weird. No, living with them had felt like home right away. You picked each other up when you were down, understood each other better than anyone else, and spent most of your time together, often with some of your other friends as well. Now, in the fall of your senior year, you were much busier than before, but you still made sure to spend time together. Your roommates knew how strongly you felt towards Taehyung and carefully guarded your secret, though Jimin occasionally tried to push you to do something about it. You knew you wouldn’t, though. You were very quiet and shy, as well as a homebody, and confessing was so far outside your comfort zone it was almost comical. So you did nothing, just holding in your feelings, praying they would go away eventually.

Sitting in the floor of Taehyung's dorm room, studying for a class you had in common, it certainly didn’t feel as if you were going to fall out of love any time soon. Sure, it was hard to hang out with him like this when you felt how you did, but you’d rather keep him as a friend than lose him altogether, so you dealt with it. After hours of studying (with several spurts of getting distracted by each other’s silliness and falling into laughing fits), you went to take a break. “Be right back, I’m going to use your bathroom, okay?” You said as you stood, giving him a small smile. He nodded absentmindedly, looking over some of his notes. 

After you’d gone, however, your phone buzzed with new text messages. You’d left it sitting there, he realized, and against his better judgment, he peeked at the screen. It was a text from Sara. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. This whole unrequited love BS isn’t for the faint of heart, is it?”, it read, followed by another immediately after. “Btw Jimin’s out right now, you and I can have a movie night when you’re done studying.” Taehyung blinked, carefully sitting the phone back in its place as he processed what he’d read.  You were in love with someone who didn’t feel the same, and Jimin was out? Was it on a date? Wait, you were in love with Jimin! That must be it. He jumped headfirst into the conclusion. He felt bad knowing that his friend was hurting and he hadn’t even noticed. He should really try to be there for you, he thought to himself. 

You returned to the room after that and he gave you a huge grin, which you found a little random. You gave him a questioning look as you sat back down. “You know you’re one of my favorite people, right? I’m just really happy you’re in my life, you’re pretty awesome, you know that?” He said sincerely, and you felt that right in your heart, honestly shocked by his unusual candor. “Thanks, Tae. I’m happy you’re in my life, too.” You replied quietly, smiling despite your confusion, shaking your head before returning to the textbook in front of you. Just for that moment you thought he might not be as far out of reach as you’d always believed.

A couple of weeks later you found yourself totally out of your element at a party your friends had dragged you to. You weren’t much of a party person, in fact you usually avoided them. But you knew Taehyung would be there, plus Sara and Jimin had pestered you into coming with them. You were feeling pretty optimistic as the night began. You looked really nice, if you did say so yourself, and were just the slightest bit hopeful that your feelings weren’t as one sided as you’d believed for so long. You navigated your way through the noisy, crowded house along with Jimin and Sara, who, after all this time, were a newly minted couple, complete with heart eyes for each other and holding hands. You were thrilled, honestly. It had been a long time coming and you were glad they were finally together. 

You scanned the room, hoping to see Taehyung, but as soon as you did, you wished you hadn’t. He was across the room looking as gorgeous as ever, but clinging to his arm was a girl who honestly looked like she could be a model. She was stunning, nearly as tall as he was, slender and with legs for days. You couldn’t help but stare in shock. She was clearly a very outgoing, social person, looking like she was talking constantly and saying hello to almost everyone who passed by, seemingly the social butterfly. And Tae looked happy. You didn’t think you had ever seen him look that happy when he was with you. The fragile hope you’d been carrying was instantly crushed, and it felt as if your heart had been run over by a truck. 

Feeling yourself getting emotional, you quickly fled out the back door. The house was on the edge of a lake and you kept going until you reached the dock before allowing yourself to collapse to your knees, the tears pouring from your eyes against your will. Who had you been kidding? That was the kind of girl he wanted, the kind of girl he deserved. A “hot” girl, a “fun” girl. Not an admittedly cute but short, bookish, shy person who hated large social gatherings. Basically, not you. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat there sobbing, trying to get a hold of your breathing and calm down but failing miserably, before you heard footsteps coming down the hill. You sniffled, hoping it was Sara or Jimin and not someone else. But you were unlucky. 

Taehyung sat down next to you, deep concern etched into his features. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” He asked so sincerely you almost wanted to laugh. When you just shook your head, the tears still coming, he wrapped you in a hug and held you close. “Hey, it’s okay… You’re okay… Tell me what happened.” He said quietly, trying to soothe you. By some miracle you pulled yourself together, calming down even though the tears were still running down your cheeks. You felt like you were going to be sick, pulling away from his hug. “I’m so stupid. I managed to fall in love with someone who’s never going to love me back, and even more foolishly, I thought maybe I had a chance…. Until tonight.” You admitted in a small voice, not making eye contact. 

Taehyung observed you carefully. “He came to the party?” He asked, and you shut your eyes tightly, nodding. “But with somebody else, and it just became so clear it’s never going to happen, and I was dumb to think that it could.” You said in a near-whisper. Taehyung thought over your words. Jimin had showed up with Sara, so clearly in love, and that must be what you were referring to. He really felt for you. He couldn’t imagine how you felt at the moment. “You’re not dumb. There is every reason for someone to love you, you’re wonderful. You’re so kind and so caring, you’re smart, you’re funny… You’re more than good enough for any guy. You’re probably too good for him.” Tae said, and you wanted to just melt into a puddle on the ground and disappear. He had no idea, you thought. 

You sighed deeply, wiping your eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just going to go home. You go enjoy the rest of your night, don’t let me bring down your mood.” You said, forcing a small smile at him. He furrowed his brow in concern. “Do you want me to take you home? Is it a good idea for you to be alone right now?” He asked, trying to be a good friend. You shook your head. “No, no. You should get back to…. oh, I don’t know her name… The girl you came with. Go have fun, don’t worry about me. I’ll go home and go to bed.” Taehyung nodded slowly, accepting your instructions. “Yeah, that’s my girlfriend Kira. You should meet her sometime when you feel better. Get home safe, okay?” He said, patting you on the shoulder before rising to his feet and returning to the party. 

You didn’t want to ruin Jimin and Sara’s first outing as a couple, so you just sent a vague text that you were tired before returning home, burrowing under the covers of your bed as the tears came without stopping. You didn’t sleep much that night. 

Over the next week or so you were even less social than usual, noticeably changed. Your two roommates, now knowing what’d happened, had been taking good care of you and trying to cheer you up a bit. But your other friends and classmates didn’t fail to catch your lack of smiles, how you were even quieter than usual, or how distant you seemed. You couldn’t avoid the class you had with Taehyung, so you just tried to stay extremely focused, ignoring his attempts to start conversation or inquiries about whether you were okay. He definitely noticed how unusual your behavior was, and he sent you texts a couple times a day trying to be supportive or make you feel better. Little did he know that he was only making matters worse. Meanwhile, every time your friends met up for lunch or for game night or anything of that nature, he brought Kira along with him, clearly extremely into her. You weren’t surprised. She had everything you lacked. So over time you stopped going to those gatherings, too. 

Weeks passed and Taehyung was still in his “not leaving you alone in a misguided attempt to be a good friend” routine, refusing to leave you alone no matter how much you pushed him away. He finally showed up at your door one Saturday, smiling and carrying a bag of snacks. “We’re having a movie day, I won’t take no for an answer. You’ve always been there for me when I was down, so I’m going to do the same thing for you. I’m worried about you, you’re so not yourself. So let me cheer you up!” He insisted. The two of you sat down on the couch in the living room, with you trying to breathe deeply as you covered your face, frustrated beyond belief. He babbled on cheerily about how you were a total catch and you shouldn’t be so down on yourself, that everything was going to be totally fine and that he couldn’t let you just retreat into yourself without trying to help. 

Suddenly the pent up feelings bubbled over. “STOP.” You yelled, not looking at him. He was shocked. You were always so soft-spoken, not once had he heard you raise your voice like that. When you finally looked at him, the pain in your eyes was clearly visible to him. “It’s you. I’m in love with YOU. Honestly, I have been for years. I know you have good intentions, but what you’re doing here isn’t helping. I’m trying to get over you but you just won’t let me.” Tears welled up in your eyes, your voice sounding strained. Taehyung was, in short, astounded. Never in a million years would he have anticipated this. “I…. I’m sorry. You’re right, I just don’t feel that way about you. You’re my friend, I don’t…. I’ve never seen you like that.” He said like word vomit. 

You laughed harshly to yourself as a couple tears escaped. “Yeah, because there’s every reason to love me, wasn’t that your phrasing? I’m more than good enough for anybody, you said…. Well, anybody except you, I guess. It’s cruel, really, to hear you say those things knowing the truth of how you feel. You mean well, Tae, and I’m furious that I can’t blame you for this. I can’t blame you for how much this hurts. But you have to stop now. Leave me alone. Stop talking to me, stop sending me motivational texts, don’t even smile at me. Just leave me be, please.” You implored. “Go away so I can learn to let you go.” You said in a whisper, more tears leaking from your eyes. Not sure what else to do and still in shock, Taehyung nodded dumbly, getting up to leave. He paused in the doorway for just a moment, muttering a quiet “I’m sorry” before leaving. And when he was gone you finally broke down again.

He did as you asked, completely cutting off contact and leaving you alone. You did your best to avoid him. He was surprised at how much it hurt every time you avoided eye contact with him or turned to walk in a different direction upon spotting him. He figured it was just the loss of a close friend being painful, so otherwise he continued on as usual. Taehyung spent most of his time with Kira. He found himself bored in most conversations with her, and he found her loud, chatty nature kind of annoying. But everyone said they made the perfect couple, so he must just be feeling this way because of guilt, right? He convinced himself of that, pushing away any thoughts that his relationship wasn’t right. 

Months passed. For a while nobody really saw you aside from Jimin and Sara. If you were shy before, you were antisocial now. If you were a homebody, you were now a recluse. You had all but disappeared from your greater social circle, knowing it was the only way to avoid Taehyung. You focused on your schoolwork. You were visibly sad leading up to winter break, and you knew everyone else was noticing how unlike your usual self you’d been. You were grateful for the reprieve of the break, a chance to live your life for a while without the threat of running into Tae. The time away did you good and you felt like things were finally looking up. 

The glimmer of hope was amplified tenfold when over the break, you met a guy in a bookshop with a radiant smile and a squeaky laugh. Seokjin, as you learned was his name, was a master’s student at your university. You’d struck  up a conversation as he was perusing the cookbooks in the shop you’d met in. He was one of those genuinely nice people who brightened your day without trying. He made you laugh with cheesy jokes and fascinated you with stories of his cooking adventures. 

Before you knew it you were spending most of your time together. You started to feel happy again and for the first time in longer than you could remember, you felt something in your heart other than pain. With him you didn’t feel like you needed to be a “hot girl” or “fun girl”. You didn’t feel like you were missing anything. He thought you were small and cute and loved nothing more than quiet nights in with you, cooking together or watching dramas. You no longer thought about how you wished your legs were longer, or how you wished you were more social, or how you didn’t think you were pretty like other girls. Like the perfect fit of two puzzle pieces, you felt like enough. By the time break was ending you were officially dating. Not that Seokjin wasn’t absolutely lovely, but it wasn’t just him that changed how you saw yourself. The time away from an environment where you saw nothing but flaws had done you good, and as much as he had helped heal you, you’d healed yourself. 

At the start of the new semester, Taehyung caught himself keeping an eye out for you, hoping to see you even from afar. He missed you terribly, if he was honest. To his delight, you had a class in common again. He felt a warmth in his chest when he finally saw you again, settling into a seat in the lecture hall. The light had returned to your eyes. You were smiling again. The relief he felt was immense, having felt awful for hurting you in the first place. 

Without realizing it, he watched you, eventually noticing your focus on the new TA and the looks you were exchanging. It gave him an odd almost nauseous feeling. When the class finally ended, he stopped to read a text before he packed up his things to leave. That’s when he heard you laugh. It occurred to him what a beautiful sound it was and how much he had missed hearing it. Then he looked up. You were standing with the new TA, arms wrapped around each other as you whispered, laughing at something. Taehyung couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile like that. The TA planted a quick kiss on your forehead before taking your hand, and the two of you walked out of the lecture hall together. Though he couldn’t wrap his head around why, Taehyung felt like he’d been slapped. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day, including when he got dinner with Kira that night. “Baaaaaabe! You’re not listening to me!” She whined, pouting. It was true, he had totally zoned out. He was too busy trying to make sense of the overwhelming feelings he was experiencing. It was late that same night that he finally realized what was going on. The realization hit him with both excitement and a sense of horror: he had feelings for you. The horrifying part was how much he’d hurt you, only to discover his feelings after all this time. But you had really loved him, right? The strength and sincerity of your feelings for him had been so apparent. Surely it wasn’t too late.

That’s how he found himself rushing across campus past midnight, hurrying to your apartment, feeling like he was about to burst with all the emotion running through him. He knocked loudly on the door, breathless from the anticipation and his rush to get to you. You were beyond surprised to see him when you opened the door, standing there with messy hair and a blanket wrapped around yourself. You frowned, entirely perplexed at his sudden appearance. “Tae? What are you doing here?” You asked in complete confusion. Taehyung had a big, dumb grin painted on his face. “Y/n, I’m so sorry it took me this long to realize it, I have feelings for you too! I - I think I love you too.” 

You could hear the excitement in his voice. Your confused face morphed into an annoyed frown. “You smug bastard. After all this time now that I’m finally happy you want to bust back in here and drop a confession?! Are you joking?!” Your voice was growing shrill with anger. The blanket you were wrapped in dropped to the floor, forgotten as you angrily gestured at him. “I honestly can’t believe you’re actually this selfish. You don’t get to treat me like I’m disposable, like some toy you can pick up or toss away whenever you get bored.” This was the second time ever he’d heard your voice raised in a near-yell. 

He heard footsteps as he stared at you, finally taking in your appearance. You were dressed in a men’s tee shirt that was much too big for you and a pair of shorts. It was impossible to miss the dark marks on your neck. A taller figure approached from behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. It was the TA, also messy-haired in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. You turned to look at him and your angry face transformed instantly into a soft, affectionate smile. “Everything okay?” He asked you, and you nodded. “Everything’s fine, Jinnie. Taehyung was just leaving.” You turned back to Taehyung and in an instant your gaze was like ice. 

The pain in his chest and the hollowness he felt was suffocating. Was this how you’d felt for so long whenever you were with him? Tears were welling up in his eyes, but he just nodded and turned away, leaving as you shut the door. He’d been a fool, and he was far too late, he realized, thinking he may have made the biggest mistake of his life. The smiles that had been reserved for him alone for years now belonged to someone else. And though he knew it was selfish, he couldn’t help but be bitter that you had moved on. 

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Okay that one hurt a little bit, huh? A tad angstier than what I normally write. Still, I hope you enjoyed it! I love feedback so please do leave some. <3

[mbtitypingobservations]

What I think of each type as an ENTP

INFP: Quiet savages. Hilarious. Maybe should work on actually expressing discomfort.

INFJ: High expectation pros, but highly insightful in a conversation. Adaptable. Do I even know you?

ISFP: So easy to talk to!! Relaxed in the streets, freaking out everywhere else. Listen to your own advice for once.

ISFJ: Determined. They keep it lowkey, but powerful af. You laugh at my jokes so I obviously enjoy your presence. Oh, take a break.

INTP: My more laid back twin! I love discussing things with you because of that neutrality we both have. Go outside more. And actually reach out when you need help.

INTJ: Have I ever wanted to fight and hug a person at the same time? Probably not. Overthinking champions, you really made me question things over and over again.

ISTP: Mysterious open-books?! Sharing only necessary things, I have to dig deep to get a definite answer from you. Extremely capable.

ISTJ: Somehow very comfortable looking. Respectful whimsy. Love the work ethic. Probably the hardest type to change their mind.

ENFP: Undercover badass with that certain spice of humor mixed with self deprecation. Truly lovely. Also, stop stressing about deadlines and try to manage your time better.

ESFP: Yes, very fun, obviously, but such a good leader. You yourselves might disagree, but I would trust you to take care of my pet. Loyalists with commitment issues.

ENFJ: Oh how can you always see through my BS? Sweetly straightforward. Perfectionist. Stop listening to MARINA, you’re good.

ESFJ: The fact that we first think we are so similar and then end up disagreeing on so many things while still staying close says a lot. Immaculate taste.

ENTP: We swaggy, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

ENTJ: Although, yes, our discussions can get a little heated, you are ultimately very entertaining, and you don’t give yourself enough credit for that. Emperors of making impulsive decisions they don’t regret.

ESTP: Actually such softies! I can read your feelings on your face before you feel them. But okay except that, somehow have the best comebacks for every situation! Pros at teasing, you definitely took away my title.

ESTJ: A lil’ hard around the edges, but my god, when you share your hobbies, I can really tell you are a secret softie, and also extremely creative. Also very angry which sometimes makes both of us laugh.

[ori-flails]

Rewatching Guardian - Episode 07 Part 2/3

Episode List || Part 1 | Part 3

SPOILERS for upto episode 40, SPOILERS for the novel.

Again, WHY THE OMINOUS MUSIC??! This is a funny scene!

I freaking love Chu Shuzhi omfg xD “Ahh” *nods sarcastically*

This confirms Zhao Yunlan was following Shen Wei xD

The two of them do some creepy stuff in the name of love that would be so disturbing without the context of Weilan lmao

Before Shen Wei can even greet her, Zhu Hong just gets straight down to business xD

“Gui Jian Chou” - This nickname was a direct reference to the novel and a nice little cookie for those that read the novel. But it’s just plain confusing for people that haven’t lol

Like, what, is this a hidden jest or roast to Zhao Yunlan’s shamelessness or something?? xD (I read the novel after I watched the drama. Did I mention that? I forgot. :< )

“I was scared into confusion” - My man you lie so easily but at least try-- TRY to make it convincing. I know you can do it.

I love Da Qing. I love that at this point Xiao Guo feels comfortable enough to laugh along with jokes and somewhat relax around Zhao Yunlan. I love this. Beautifuk

Also look at Shen Wei’s smile dgfugwfkwa omfg <3

“...What just happened? Why is he talking about bears? Is this a way to distract Zhao Yunlan from his identity or.....? Am I missing something????”

Yes. I was indeed missing something. I completely missed the fact that Shen Wei was trolling us all. I had no idea what hit me that first time I watched it. What a fool he made out of me lmao xD

I have questions though lol. It’s clear he’s been on about bears for a while. Shen Wei’s trolling for some reason. But, like, Zhao Yunlan just let him???

Just WHY was Shen Wei trolling us so hard?? I bet he was having the time of his life cackling on the inside lmao.

He’s so subtle that something as ridiculous as this went past my BS-radar and my troll-radar completely. I thought he was being serious and sincere. He’s spewing utter unconvincing BS without batting an eye!

I’m telling you, Shen Wei is probably very VERY good at lying and not half bad at politics. He just prefers not to and just becomes an actual wreck when facing Zhao Yunlan and I can’t get over this.

Small brain: Zhao Yunlan’s a troll. Big brain: Ye Zun’s the troll kiing. Mega brain: Shen Wei is the ultimate troll, the troll god.

Just look at his face in the second to last screenshot! That is the face of a man who’s trying very hard not to laugh and is quite pleased with himself.

WHAT A TROLL. xD

Youchu are weaker ghosts from the novel. Cool. I was kind of excited for them after seeing that drawing but that was some profound disappointment.

Also, if Da Qing was already thinking of Youchu, why did he not mention anything until now? Why let Shen Wei keep going on about bears?? xD

Shen Wei himself dealt with the case of Youchu infestation, so he didn’t think about it being a possibilities (hence the bear trolling. I’m never getting over the freaking bears.) because he did manage to send all the Youchu back to Dixing. It’s just Zhu Jiu’s putting them back on Haixing again.

Hah... Hoping this isn’t Zhao Yunlan thinking Hei Pao Shi’s incompetant or some shit. I don’t think so anyway, but still. The thought popped up in my head.

You don’t think it’s strange that Shen Wei knows about these hell gremlins but you draw the line at Shen Wei thinking the thugs don’t have Dixingren qualities?

Shen Wei could’ve been meaning how Dixingren would act on Haixing. A lot of Dixingren probably would be doing illegal stuff and commit robberies and stuff because of poverty. But they wouldn’t be so brazen as the two thugs. They’d take the money and GO. They wouldn’t wanna be taking risks with the looming presence of the SID and Hei Pao Shi. Not unless they’re really strong or after something specific, neither of which apply to the thugs.

But what Shen Wei probably meant was some inherent presense of dark energy or something Dixingren have specifically that either only Shen Wei can sense because of some power he Learnt, or because Shen Wei is strong and skilled enough to mask whatever it is that give away Dixingren to those who know what to look for. Hence why he can easily spot Dixingren but other Dixingren can’t tell he’s one until he gives himself away by lifting whatever invisible ‘mask’ or damper he’s got on. I have headcanons about this. I might make a post for it later. Not sure.

Shen Wei shutting up at this could be because 1) he’s already said too much and isn’t willing to give up more information that’d point to him being Hei Pao Shi.

2) Shen Wei is still hesitent to trust Zhao Yunlan with information that could be used to find a way to detect Dixingren in hiding that are simply just existing on Haixing. Not something horrible but seen as a crime regardless as it’d be a violation of the treaty.

Damn.

“It’s always that most are evil, few are kind” - The same way most people police would encounter would mostly be criminals IN A JUST AND IDEAL WORLD WHICH IS NOT THE WORLD WE LIVE IN, CLEARLY. UGH.

The Dixingren that are not “evil”, as he says, are staying out of trouble and mixing in with Haixingren.

Also when I say “evil”, read “desperate” and “cornered”.

Zhao Yunlan has already partially made up his mind about trusting Shen Wei. I’m glad he noticed that Shen Wei is trying to protect somebody, whoever it is that’s Shen Wei source of information on Dixingren or just himself, by not telling everything to the SID which doesn’t have the best reputation.

I’m also glad to see how despite the anti-Dixingren propaganda of Xingdu Bureau and basically every record there is about Dixing since the war, Zhao Yunlan’s able to try to broaden his horizon.

Zhao Yunlan is a Good Man.

The idea of something so overwhelmingly terrifying and brutal that it causes a person to go mad is not a bad idea.

It’s just that when you hype up a culprit/monster like that, you have to deliver something.

But this is Guardian the web drama. :/

“if he’s an orange or a pear” *flashback to Chu Shuzhi and Hei Pao Shi’s toes*

(Continues in part 3)