#and instead of privating it like a normal person I deleted it rip

[dilfhos]

brooooo my queue is fucking up😭😭😭

[creylune]

i’ve liked kpop/actively listened to it since 2011, in fact when i started my original tumblr it was a kpop blog LMFAO. that said it’s been so wild seeing how kpop fandom has changed over the past ten years... i want to say that yes kpop fans were deranged back then too but it felt way less insane than it is now since platforms like twitter and instagram are their primary platforms (instead of wordpress, forums, livejournal, tumblr), so everything is instantaneous/real-time/artists do streaming now?? kpop artists are now super accessible to everyone which is nice because yay! spreading of good music and culture, plus higher chances for fans to actually communicate/be acknowledged by their idols. back in my day we only had cyworld/yfrog and sporadic twitter updates, we had to rip audio from youtube or shady looking album download sites, the western world would label all kpop as gay and girly because the men had “guyliner” and long hair/acted cute.... 

but also 🙃 i think kpop fans now truly do not have brains... an artist can tweet their condolences about another singer dying and fans just kneejerk reply OMG??!??!?!?!@?!@? HUUUUUUUH WHAT WHAT and spam fancams in response bc they literally do not have brains. they’re basically brainwashed cult members lol and it’s only exacerbated by the total commercialization of kpop (STREAM <insert shitty song by subpar group> WE NEED MORE ALBUM SALES) + social media becoming so ingrained in daily life. i will say that people with public kpop twitters/instagrams as their main social media accounts seriously have problems lol. the dedication is admirable and it’s nice that their artists have benefited their lives but seriously... it’s ok to like things a normal amount. or at least restrict it to a private account like the rest of us kpop fans who have shame...... 

there’s a reason i made a completely new kpop sideblog/twitter and don’t talk about it on my main social media, being a kpop fan is cringe and there’s good reason to not want to associate with any kpop likers because of how infuriatingly annoying they are. spamming/stalking/being brainwashed/being willfully ignorant of everything EXCEPT what their idol ate for breakfast that day, obviously no one with a right mind wants to get near that with a ten foot pole. it’s on a different level from admitting you like anime publicly because at least that deals with fictional characters. i hate anime fans too but they don’t comment on every single unrelated youtube video saying STAN MIKU HATSUNE/ARMY HERE 👇👇👇 LIKE MY COMMENT 

(i have a personal grudge against bts likers because i moderate comments on my company’s social media and i swear to god. i want to delete every single bts comment i see)

on a side note/a totally different conversation from this, i really feel bad for kids since they grow up with social media as it is today... it’s really harmful and i could not imagine being a teenager in this day and age. there are so many teens and kids into kpop obsessed with streaming videos/putting things out there online... it’s... just... MAN... 

i’ve had these thoughts swirling in my head for the last couple months ever since i re-entered public kpop fandom on twitter and tumblr. that insane™ kpop twitter post just reminded me. stans on twitter are literally INSANE and it’s terrifying/hilarious to observe but only from a safe distance imo. i followed a couple of stans for the chinese kpop idol i like but their tweets are just... SO.... WEIRD. like everyday, like clockwork, they tweet some variation of “minghao is just so special... <insert stuff like the way he looks at animals is so gentle and loving you can tell how good and wonderful he is>” every single day and it’s JUST... IT’S SO WEIRD AND UNCOMFORTABLE LOL. this is coming from someone who’s covered her wall with minghao and has his photo framed on her desk!!! if he has a scandal or something it’s fine, i can just resell all the stuff i’ve bought and move on. but these people 100% worship/are brainwashed and are not well.... stan culture is not healthy unless you’re able to acknowledge how weird it is/the parasocial nature of it all. which of course young kids/teenagers aren’t gonna be able to discern healthily ok anyways i have too many thoughts about this stuff lol

[twisted-fun-funny-stories]

First Request: (btw sorry I accidentally deleted it bc my fat fingers pressed the wrong button but here you go)

If you can’t read the picture: it says “Hey, a headcanon where Vil, Malleus, Azul, and Leona discover that their boyfriend or girlfriend is cheating on him”

WoAh! Okay, starting strong, tbh I did not expect to write about cheating but hopefully I can meet your expectations!

Vil Scheonheit:

He was excited to see you all day, he wanted to show you the new clothes and makeup he got for you so you can always look your best and always be in style

He loved your voice, your face, and everything related to you because he can always be reminded that they are the definition of ideal couple

But then he saw you look arms with someone from Savanaclaw

No, no that cant be, he thought, but he heard your voice and it only confirmed his suspicions

He immediately runs up to you and grabs your arm, trying to pull away from the filthy animal that had the nerve to touch his love one

But you didn’t move, in fact you stood your ground, giving him a stern look on your face

In response, he caressed your hand gently as if he was trying to calm your down

Vil: “What’s wrong love? Why are you acting like this? Was it that beast that did some-”

You interrupted him by saying, “No, this was my choice. I wanted to confront this to you before you saw this but I guess it’s too late.”

Before Vil can even ask why, you answer with, “Vil, I’m just tired of it. Tired of trying to fulfill your ideal and trying to look the part. Every morning, I feel that I will never be as beautiful as you and I can never be the lover you need…I’m sorry for doing this to you”

Vil immediately turns back, heading back to the dorm, the first he does ripping the pictures of the two of you together 

Vil: “Ha…this…this is not beautiful at all. This should have never happened.” Not only he got cheated on but they had the nerve to cheat on him with someone from Savanaclaw (the one dorm he hates)

Ever since then, every time he is reminded of the times you two were together, he only defines it as “ugly”, something he does not want to be associated with

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus somewhat understands that there is a reason that he is not invited to events

He was never really a positive person, already used to being ignored and uninvited, but when he was around, he felt that he can forget that bitter feeling

Whenever he saw you smile, he smiled

But even though that you can make him smile and laugh (on occasion), he always felt that you weren’t satisfied

No matter how many times he was told by you that you loved him, there was this unsettling feeling in him that this happiness wouldn’t last long

But he just didn’t expect to happen like this and so soon

He saw you holding hand with a student from Scarabia, smiling and looking like you were having fun while he was on his way to drop something you left at his dorm

It was a locket you had with a picture of you and Malleus together

Malleus: “Hmph, I knew this would happen…” as he turned his feet and headed back to the dorm

Just when he was about to throw the locket in the trash, his hand froze, his grip tightened, he couldn’t let go of that happy feeling he used to feel when he was around you

He then just placed on top of his night table, frustrated at himself

Frustrated at the fact he let his expectations get the best of him

But at the same time, there is something else that is stirring in his heart, besides the anger boiling in his veins

Malleus: “Ah…this feeling…this lonely feeling again, and I thought that I can forget this feeling again but I guess you’re back”

But from the bottom of the heart, he only wishes that you can find more happiness from the man you’re currently with than when you were with him because he did truly loved you

(Probably out of all the guys you requested, he is the most likely to get over it the quickest)

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul, conducting with his business as usual, sighed out of boredom and exhaustion

Not only these contracts were not worth his time, they were asking him to grant them wishes that are too simple

He did not need to help you with getting away with sleeping during class

Azul: “Ah…at this point, I might go insane if I look at any more of these stu-” *stifled cough* “um, these unfortunate wishes”

He decided to get out of his office, not wanting to think how idiotic people can be and wanting to see you

Something about you help him rid of all the horrible feelings he had

Maybe you thought differently than most students, maybe it’s the way you look at him and talk to him, made him feel…satisfied, happy

When he entered the café, he saw you sitting next to a student from Savanaclaw

Maybe you were with a friend catching up on some things

Azul: “My darling! I’ve been looking for you! I was just about done with my papers and I was thinking about you.”

But you didn’t seem happy to see him, in fact you seemed dumbfounded, as if you weren’t expecting him to see you

“A-Azul! I thought you were with Riddle talking about…um…school work around this time! W-why are you here?”

Ah, betrayal, a feeling that Azul thought he never had to face but here he is, being betrayed by the one he loved the most

Oh how unfortunate he is…

While you were stuttering on your words, you look to see Azul with a grin on his face, but it wasn’t an ordinary grin, you can sense his anger in that smile

Azul: “Dear, I think the both of us need to find a place to talk about matters…privately. May I suggest we head to the VIP Room?”

A shiver went down your spine as Azul guided you to the VIP Room with his hand around your waist

Leona Kingscholar:

He was just looking for a place to ditch class and sleep

And maybe waiting for you to comb his hair as he lay in your lap (but he doesn’t admit he likes that)

When he arrived at the greenhouse (or garden house I forgot what that was called), he saw you with a student from that dreaded Pomefiore, smiling at you and caressing your cheek

They think they’re the best yet they always worry about their looks, he’s tired of seeing their stupid fake faces  

He ran up to you and grabbed you by your arm, pulling you close to him

Leona: “Oi, how dare of you to lay hands on what’s mine?”

He was expecting that student to turn their tail and run away like the herbivore they are, they didn’t 

Instead, they laugh at them. With a confident look on their face

“Oh? And I wonder if your girlfriend/boyfriend agrees with that?”

Leona turns to you, you just divert your eyes away from Leona’s gaze, even turning your head away when Leona tried to make you look at him

Oh, so this is how you wanna play huh?

Leona forced you to turn towards him and placed his lips on yours

Normally you would gladly take it, but he felt your hands pushing at his chest, telling him to let go

He stopped, he pushed you away and just let out a small laugh

He started to walk away, but before he left, he said: “You’ve made the worst mistake of your life.”

That’s right, because who in their right mind would ever try to go after someone else when they already have Leona?

[stephhannes]

internet deadtiquette

i only keep up with a couple of podcasts, one of them being reply all, and the most recent episode resonated with me. in the episode, they speak with a dad who lost his son to an aneurism, and he goes on to talk about how technology has been entwined in his grief. and i found myself a) feeling less alone in the way that i’ve been grieving, but b) asking myself- how has the internet played a part in my recovery?

i never thought about it, but technology has been such an intrinsic part of my grieving process. so much so, that it’s felt natural and normal- even though looking in on it, there’s something hard and unnatural about it. how do i balance broadcasting my grief in a way that’s palatable in 240 characters but not compromising my truth? (spoiler: i’m very bad at this). 

things were simpler when my dad died, because i didn’t once have to consider things like: “what statement will i make on social media?” “how do i respond to messages from people  haven’t talked to since i graduated from high school?” “how sad is ‘too sad’ to appear online?”

from the beginning, since nathan’s died, technology has been right there. the day that it happened, while we were still making phone calls to family and close friends, i was thinking about what my “official” public statement would be. how do i concisely convey that the love of my life is dead when i haven’t slept in hours and barely know how to say a full sentence? i posted a picture of that one entry in teddy roosevelt’s journal from the day his wife and mother died. “the light has gone out of my life.��� 

that was the only thought i could conjure up that day. i accompanied it with a few short sentences- “the last day, my brain has been on a constant loop of thinking about that quote from teddy roosevelt’s journal after his wife died- “the light has gone out of my life.” yesterday, i lost the light of my life. my best friend, my brilliant, incredible, kind, adjectives fiancé has passed away.” 

speaking of the whole ‘contacting family and friends’ thing, do you know how awkward it is to send a facebook message to someone you’ve never talked to asking for their boss’s phone number? at some point in the contacting phase, i realized that nathan wouldn’t be at work on monday and that people would have questions as to where he was, so i had to do some gymnastics to figure that out. the company that nathan worked for had a very generic name, so finding the correct office phone number was kind of off the table. i couldn’t find his boss on facebook- but i happened to remember the full name of one of nathan’s coworkers- so i found her on facebook and messaged her. “hi, this is out of the blue and i’m sorry, but i’m stephanie, nathan’s fiancee. nathan passed away this weekend and we’d like to get in contact with your boss. could you please pass along a phone number or other contact information so we can? thanks in advance.” imagine waking up one day and getting that message from a stranger. 

when it came to contacting people, i only needed to tell my mom and the four friends i have. but when it came to nathan’s friends i wasn’t sure who all to contact. how do you decide who gets to know before a public facebook statement? will there be people that are angry that i excluded them? 

and then after the announcement came the condolences. i hate that i live a life where i’m easily accessible by people i haven’t talked to in years. but still, i got messages from people i graduated with and got texts from numbers i had deleted years ago. 

i’ve always been skeeved out by the concept of people writing on the facebook wall of someone who’s died. thankfully, only a couple of people did it- but i hated almost all of it. i think the thing i hate about this sort of public display of grief is that it’s so transparent, but here’s a life tip: not everything has to be about you. when people post these outward, shallow reflections on facebook, it’s to become a grief vampire, to get a pat on the back for “doing a good deed.” 

i also hate that i had to watch people speculate, publicly what had happened to nathan. someone who we went to high school with made some sentimental post about him and someone commented asking “holy shit. what happened to him???” someone else made a post asking people to pray for our family and rip. once again, someone else commented asking what happened. i get that this is a pretty innocuous exchange, but seeing it written out in a facebook post, being discussed by people who don’t know us well just felt like i was watching two people whispering about me right in front of my face.

the worst part was seeing a comment that said “RIP. at least he’s with (his dead ex from high school) now.” 

when i first saw it, i was so upset that someone would say that…in public…where i can see it. i was almost angry, but i didn’t have the energy to respond, since i was busy planning nathan’s funeral at that time. i told my friends about it, and one of them confronted the girl instead: 

“hey, your comment about nathan was pretty disrespectful and it upset his fiancee a lot. would you please delete it?”

“actually, what’s disrespectful is you messaging me. i didn’t even know he had a fiancee and she just lost someone so she’s going to take offense to anything and everything. i didn’t say anything wrong. besides, everyone knows that (his ex) was his first love and if it wasn’t for what she did they would still be together.” 

not only is she shitty in public, apparently she’s also shitty in private. 

it was so apparent to me that she literally knew nothing about nathan and was just trying to cash in on some brownie points to look like a good person to everyone else- but i was so deeply offended. 

my friend had to contact the person who made the original post to just delete the girl’s comment and that was the end of it. 

the one post on his wall that i didn’t hate was from one of his friends. i had never met her before, but i knew of her, solely because she used to send nathan snaps of her cat all the time and subsequently, nathan would show me the snaps and we were both in love with her cat. she made a sweet post on his wall, and i sent her a message telling her that i appreciate her words and also that we loved seeing her cat. she offered to add me on snapchat and continue to send me pictures occasionally, and that’s one of the nicest things anyone’s done for me.

you know what i didn’t realize would happen? the first time i posted a selfie after nathan died, a few people made “it’s nice to see you smiling!” comments. i’ve never been conscious of my instagram feed, but after realizing that people were trying to use my posts as barometers to my happiness- i felt a lot more claustrophobic when it came to my feed.

+++

when my dad died, the grieving process looked fairly linear. i was sad for awhile, and with time, it got easier. his death isn’t something that plagues me anymore, and it stopped consuming me pretty quickly. part of that was because i was pretty removed from my home at that time- he died right before school started so i was living on my own, pre-occupied with not flunking out of undergrad, not surrounded by pieces of my father. the only digital footprint of my dad was a handful of selfies we’d taken together, but other than that, there was no facebook profile, no online connection to any of his friends. if i wanted to access my dad, i had to work for it.

though nathan was fairly private and didn’t have an instagram or twitter that he actively used, there was still facebook, and still vague traces of him across the internet. 

i can’t stop doing things that hurt me, and the internet provides more things that hurt me. when my dad died, the only things i could do that would really pain me were listen to voicemails, and listen to songs that made me think of him. with nathan’s death, i can sit and read through all of our texts. or read through all of our facebook messages. or check snapchat and have it tell me that it’s been 45 weeks since i last received a snap from him. or have a facebook “on this day” memory pop up with a post he made on my wall ten years ago. 

i have these moments where i am so desperate to feel close to nathan again. and i try to scrap together every trace of him i have. physically, there isn’t much. i have some of his old clothes, and a couple of tshirts that smell like him- but digitally i have years of things he’s said to me, i have pictures- ones of us together, ones i took of him sleeping, ones other people have taken of him- i have two voicemails, i have one video. 

there’s something about having digital access to nathan that brought out a desperation in me. 

when i got back to our apartment from the hospital after nathan died, my brain was shattered into a million pieces, each piece trying to answer a different question. however, at one point in the hours after his death, i got fixated on one thing: where the fuck was his phone? i tore the sheets from the bed and scoured every inch of the apartment and it was nowhere to be found. i don’t know why i wanted it so badly, but when i realized that it was gone i was so stressed out. the phone must have been in his pocket when he died, it must have gone to the hospital. it’s probably gone. i finally fell asleep, my brain reset by the time i woke up and the missing phone was no longer on my radar. eventually, i just resolved that i wouldn’t ever see it again and that was that. a couple of weeks later, his parents and i went back to philadelphia to clean out our apartment and his mom decided to follow the phone trail again. the hospital didn’t have it- they said the organ donation people probably have it- the organ donation people didn’t have it- they said the medical examiner probably has it- and finally we got a bag of nathan’s belongings from the medical examiner: complete with phone, drivers license, and one earring.

here’s the problem with a phone that’s been dead for two weeks: you need the passcode to turn it back on. i’m pretty sure my fingerprint unlocked his phone, but i had no idea what his passcode was. 

here’s the second problem: his passcode was at least 6 characters long. the only thing i knew about it was that it was more than four characters, and i know that makes it exponentially harder to try to guess or use a program to guess the passcode.

there wasn’t necessarily anything i knew i wanted off of his phone, but i wanted answers as to why he died, and i think part of me thought i could get answers from his phone. but a bigger part of me knew that i wouldn’t get any answers, so i gave up. 

i factory reset his phone. it’s no longer in my possession. 

cracking the phone case wasn’t the only technological rabbit hole i went down. the day i finally got into nathan’s laptop, i remember texting one of my friends, exclaiming “I DID IT! I HACKED INTO THE MAINFRAME!”

nathan had two computers, a laptop for personal use and a desktop that he used for work and gaming. 

once again, in my pursuit of trying to find answers, i thought that maybe his laptop would tell me something. i don’t know exactly what answers i thought his browsing history could illuminate, but maybe there would be something there. however, i had very low expectations as to what i’d find- nathan browsed the internet in a very strange way. he’d do this thing where pretty much every link he clicked on or everything he did he’d do in an incognito window. inherently i knew his chrome history would be pretty bare. nevertheless, i was determined to get in.

much like his phone password, i also didn’t know his laptop password. the only thing i knew was that his password hint was the same for both his laptop and his desktop. after setting this mystery to the side for a week, it hit me. the summer i moved to nyc he went away for a week, and when he left, he gave me the password to his desktop so i could use the big monitor to watch netflix or game to entertain myself while he was gone. 

i had to go through old SMS messages that had been saved on my macbook to find the text with the password. and i found it. and if the password hint was the same for both of his computers, then the password had to be the same, right? right.

i did it. i hacked into the mainframe. 

and like i suspected, i found nothing. nothing suspicious in his search history, no shady messages on reddit, no word documents, no weird facebook correspondences. 

the only thing i found was a snapshot of the last moments before he died. the last webpage he’d opened that night was at 11:02pm. i called 911 at 11:11pm. for some reason, gaining that perspective fucked with me. 

+++

i started this blog as a way to vent. i wanted to keep a record of what was going on in my life and how i was coping. i am a container of stories about nathan, and i wanted to make sure that i wasn’t forgetting things. i spent so much time in the months immediately following nathan’s death forgetting. i forgot what his laugh sounds like. i forgot exactly what his hair smelled like. i wanted to try to forget as little as possible, and by having a written record of the thoughts and memories i have of him i felt like i was gaining a little bit of control over the situation. but now that i have this audience, sometimes i find myself trying to make sure that i filter myself appropriately. i have to discern what memories i want to keep for just the two of us, and which ones i want to share. 

pretty shortly after nathan died, i started a note on my phone called “things that are too fucked up to tweet right now, but maybe revisit in a few months?” 

the list included such hits as: 

sarah just got me a “promoted to fiancee shirt,” do they make “downgraded to widow” ones?

y’all ever go from planning a wedding to planning a funeral? 

my fiance being dead means i now have two urns to take holiday pictures with

GREAT, now i have to change my emergency contact AGAIN

i used to have a ‘segment’ on this blog where i’d post the messages i had been sending to nathan’s facebook- and eventually i had to stop. mostly because i realized that the messages were truly just this very honest and raw expression of my deepest grief- i usually only send him messages when i’m feeling the most upset. that’s one of those things that needed to be kept for just us.

+++ 

it’s strange, the way the internet has become one of the biggest coping mechanisms for me. even though it’s introduced a whole shitload of inconveniences, it’s given me a lot as well. one of my favorite things that happened was a handful of his friends sending me facebook messages with either pictures of him, or a memory of him, that’s the one instance where i’m glad to be easily accessible. my favorite thing about having the internet on my side this time around is feeling less lonely. when i listened to that episode of reply all, i heard so many little things about someone else’s grief that i was also experiencing. sometimes you ask yourself if you’re grieving properly, if what you’re doing is weird, or okay- and hearing that i’m not the only one processing things in the way that i do gives me that little bit of reassurance that i’m doing alright. 

+++

you wanna know the worst thing my iphone has done to me? i was scrolling through my camera roll, and i accidentally swiped up on one of the pictures. apparently photos will now show you “related photos” to the one you swipe up- and for some reason the algorithm decided one of the photos related to the one i swiped up on was a picture i had taken of nathan at his wake. i can’t believe steve jobs’ ghost would blindside me like that honestly. 

[poca-staks]

Sent

     By RoyaltyLaine

Summary: While figuring out a way to break up with her current guy friend without disappointing her father, Belle happens across a compromise that can either destroy her or provide her with the answer she's been seeking.

Rating: Mature for nudity. Words: 2038 Tags: Epistolary, Nudity, Sorry Wrong Number A/n: Yup Another RomCom. I blame this on my Tumblr mom @standbyyourmantis , Thanks to her and her amazing fics and @gwenore , I found my niche. lol read on (Ao3)

Belle's new guy friend was proving to be a pain in her ass. His constant requests for sex were pathetic, an annoying attempt to solidify his claim over her. For the past month his pleas were becoming more frequent and their dates, fewer. She considered breaking up with him sooner, and the only reason she hadn't was because of her father. He loved Gaston like a son and would boast proudly of their relationship to everyone he knew. Belle loved her father, and the thought of letting him down broke her heart, but the idea of having sex with Gaston and his chauvinistic sentiments made her stomach churn. She hoped that her distaste for him would evaporate after a few weeks, but it only grew. Especially when he began pressuring her into sex. What Belle needed was an equal ground. A compromise. A way where she wouldn't have to sleep with him, but also satisfying his need for her body until she could break up with him. She sighed when the newest text message from Gaston appeared on her phone.

How 'bout some sexy nudes babe.

That text alone made Belle groan and roll her eyes. It basically shouted at her that he had no sense of respect for her or their deteriorating relationship. After turning on the cap lock, she thumbed the letter N, then O. For a moment, as her finger hovered over the send button, she had an interesting thought. A nude picture of her could be the answer she was looking for. It would stop the pestering requests for sex, at least for a while. Then she can take this brevity of time to figure out a way to break it off with Gaston without disappointing her father. This could work.

Belle leapt from her bed, crossing her room in a nightie under a housecoat until she reached the vanity mirror in her bathroom. Keying out of the text message section of her phone, she turned on her camera. She's never taken any erotic picture, let alone a nude one. Without knowing the first thing to do, she began peeling off some of her clothing. First her robe, then, one by one she pulled down the spaghetti straps of her silk nightie, letting it fall and gather around her waist. Now, what about the bra, she reflected. Knowing Gaston, he would probably say that it wasn't a real nude, and would ask her to take her bra off too. So to keep herself from having to take another uncomfortable picture, she slid the straps off her shoulders and reached around and unhooked her bra removing it as well as a bit of her dignity.

She stared at herself in the mirror. Men thought this was sexy. They were just breasts, two sacks of fat that didn't serve any purpose unless a woman had just given birth. Overthinking helped some, she wasn't as nervous about snapping a photo of her breasts and then sending it to him. She held her phone up to the mirror, unsure about how to go about this. Should she pose? Should her hair be up or down? Was the light in her bathroom bright enough? Should she point her camera at an angle, selfie style, or just straight on like a portrait.

All in all, Belle took a total of fifteen pictures. She had no idea trying to take sexy pictures would turn her into such a shutterbug. She posed with her hair up and a few with it down, some blowing a kiss. A couple of vogue ones, aiming the camera at different angles. Puppy eyes and duck lips. But she always made sure that the primary focus was her breasts. Arching her back and puffing up her chest, helping to turn her perky B's into voluptuous D's. It kind of empowered her. All the photos she took were tasteful, and a bit artsy, even choosing to add a simple gold chain necklace. The hint of color made her photos look more elegant and her body more sophisticated.

After, she scrolled through the photos until she decided on one picture that was worthy enough to be shown. Her head was slightly tilted up. It made her neck look longer and her shoulders even. Her face was playfully sexy, biting her bottom lip and smiling wantonly while her blue eyes held her innocence in their soft gaze. The picture screamed come and get me. But as it would happen, her apprehension was back, so she decided to send it quickly, without thinking about it, like ripping a band-aid off. She hit the share button on the photo, scroll through her contact list to the G's, closed her eyes, and tapped his name. In a millisecond her phone notified her that her message had been sent. She breathed a sigh of relief and went back to her photo gallery to delete those pictures from her phone and her memory. All except for two, keeping those safe for her own personal and private viewing. She had to admit it. She liked doing her little intimate photo shoot. It was just too bad she couldn't show the photos to someone who could fully appreciate them. She made a promised to herself that she would never do something like that again, at least not for Gaston. But unfortunately, she had this gnawing feeling that his little monster wasn't so easily sated. In any case, she would have to work quickly and figure out a way to put an end to their relationship

Ten minutes went by and no response. Belle giggled to herself. Boys -because Gaston was nowhere near being a man- were so easy to preoccupy. She pictured him drooling over her photo like a wolf salivating over its prey, touching himself and pretending his hand was her. She hoped his hand was giving him all the pleasure he needed because the photo was all he was getting from her.

The night was getting later, and Belle was getting antsy. She was sure he would have sent something back. Something simple like Hot or Sexy. Gaston wasn't a man capable of writing sonnets by any means, but she would have at least thought he'd have sent something back by now. Anything. Just great, now she was feeling a little self-conscious. Was she not even good enough for the likes of someone as shallow as Gaston? She opened her contact list and scrolled to the G's. In her blind fury about Gaston, she mistakenly hit the name of her landlord, Mr. Gold, whose name was just under Gaston's. She quickly hung up just after the first ring. That was a close one. What would she and Mr. Gold even talk about on the phone at this late hour? Rent? Maybe calling Gaston right away was a bad idea. He would text her eventually. It was best not to think about it, so she turned off her phone and rolled over in bed.

A what if thought enter her mind. What if instead of Gaston, she accidentally sent Mr. Gold the nude picture. He would probably assume she was trying to get out of paying him and raise her rent substantially for trying to solicit him with her nude photographs. Belle chuckled. It was impossible, she knew. She was sure she sent the picture to the correct person.

She had known Mr. Gold since she was a young girl. Before he became her landlord, Mr. Gold was her father's. She had a schoolgirl crush on him when she became old enough to know what a crush was. Whenever he was collecting rent from her father, Mr. Gold always made it a task to talk to her. He asked mostly about school, how were her grades and were there any new school projects she was working. Reminding her that his shop was always open and free to her if she ever needed an artifact for a school project or report.

Her favorite thing about his monthly visits to her father's shop was the books he loaned her from the collection in his pawnshop. Most of them were fantasy, fearless knights fighting off a variety of beasts to win the heart and hand of the princesses. But there was one book that he'd let her borrow. It was her favorite. Instead of falling for the insipid prince who was only saving the fair maiden for glory, the princess fell in love with the beast, who loved her fiercely. When she told Mr. Gold how much she loved that particular book, he smiled and told her to keep it. Scribing the inside cover with her name and a note: May her light brighten, and shine on others as it has shined on me. Even to this day, she still had that book. Nestled safely between two other alphabetized books on her bookshelf. She still read it from time to time. Sometimes only what Mr. Gold wrote on the back of the cover.

But as it did, time didn't wait for either them, and the years went on one by one. Belle's crush on her father's landlord faded as she matured, and Mr. Gold became reclusive and jaded. When she reached adulthood, Mr. Gold had managed to be feared by the whole town from his cynical demeanor. Choosing only to be seen in expensive suits, or scarcely seen at all, holding himself up in his pawnshop or his big pink house on the edge of town; other than when the first of the month rolled around.

Belle was one of the few people in town who didn't cross the street or shield their eyes just to avoid Mr. Gold. In fact, she loved holding conversations with him. Even though he seemed more interested in the welfare of the library he was leasing to her, like if the heating was adequate in the winter and other such things, but Belle could tell there were hidden layers under his snide remarks and impertinent reproaches. Once, while speaking to him about the types of genre Storybrooke's residents like to check-out, she saw him smile. It was crooked, only one corner of his mouth raised into a thin grin. But there was a softness in his eyes, and for a moment it felt like they were just two normal friends sharing a conversation. It was the first smile she had seen since she was a child, and it made her smile in turn. They stood there in the moment together, Her smiling and enjoying his company. Him staring at her like she was heaven's light. Then, all of a sudden, it was like he realized what he was doing and left abruptly, vowing to see her for next month's rent on the way out of the library.

The ten o'clock news was beginning its nightly newscast and still nothing from Gaston. What was he doing with that picture of her that was taking almost an hour for him to respond back? Was he showing it to his buddies, posting it online, seriously what? Belle rolled over in bed and reached for her phone. Maybe she was just overreacting. The phone services were sometimes sketchy on this side of Storybrooke; perhaps he didn't even receive the message at all. Belle gave another big sigh and checked her phone.

She had a new message, but she bypassed it and went straight for Gaston's text thread. To her bewilderment, there wasn't any picture of her attached to the thread, just his last message asking for nudes. But she was sure she sent it. Was there a picture of her breasts floating around on someone else's phone?

After contemplating leaving town, there was a ding from her phone and a text notification, reminding her that she still had an unopened text message. More to her surprise, it was from Mr. Gold. Splayed on his empty thread, were her and her bare breasts. The gold necklace wrapping around the delicate curves of her neck while the slack of the chain rested between her cleavage. Under her naughty photo was a reply.

They're quite lovely, Ms French. Could I trouble you for another one?

She had heard Florida was nice this time of year.

@--->-----3nd

[toastiko]

An Update & A Story

Hi guys. I’m finally taking action against my weed dependency. Each day, I’m taking one less hit than the day before. I actually haven’t tried quitting since I went cold turkey, the week before last Christmas. I was only able to stay sober until Christmas day for those wondering. Aside from the one visit to my father in February earlier this year, I’ve smoked every day since Christmas, 2019.

Now I lay here in bed, mostly sober and slightly depressed, wondering, how? How did weed become the top priority in my life?

These thoughts manifested during my sober week before Christmas, but now that I’m laying here, out of weed and sober enough, I can actually put my thoughts into words. Anyway, the main reason I started to abuse marijuana was because of my move from Michigan to Oklahoma (July 1st 2017). But there were a lot of small events that also contributed to the abuse too. The beginning of the abuse started around three years ago, but before we talk about that, you need to know how I was brought up. 

This next part is for my friends who I didn’t grow up with.  Read it if you want, you won’t make me cry if you don’t. 

Parts of the story below may sound like me just bragging. If you take it that way, that’s on you. I’m just trying to be as detailed as possible so people can get a proper understanding of how I was raised. 

In 2001, I was adopted at birth in Jackson, Mississippi. (I’ve always grown up knowing that I was adopted and some people think it’s a really touchy subject for me even though I couldn’t care less. In fact, I used to joke about it before my sense of humor vanished )         I was born with my feet completely backwards, or in other words, I had severe clubbed feet. At the age of 2, I had surgery and spent a year in walking casts. During that time, my parents and I in lived in a mansion until 2005, when hurricane Katrina came and shreked everything. So we moved to Oklahoma and lived in a low class barn for around 8 months. In 2007, my dad got a job offer in Lansing, Michigan, and that’s really when my life ‘started’.

The first memory I have of Michigan is driving down our beautiful dead end street with my eyes glued to the falling snow which I had never seen before. We lived in a three story house with a front yard the size of a soccer field and a backyard half the size of a soccer field, with a lake right behind it. Yeah, I had it good, but I didn’t even realize at the time because it was normal to for us to live in big houses. Now the two houses next to us had neighbors with kids my age. JC was one of these kids. The kid was huge - not fat, but well built. He was a French Canadian American who had lived there since birth. If I met him today for the first time, I don’t think we’d be friends, but JC, though he was the same age as me, felt like an older brother. He was disciplined (mostly), goofy, and a little arrogant at times, but we always had a good time when we got together. So most days after school, instead of hanging out with my best friend who lived far, far, down the road, I hung out with JC, and that’s what my life was like after school almost every day until he moved in 2014 (2015? I don’t know)

Now let me tell you about my parents. My dad is an American Armenian who was told by his parents as a child that he was going to grow up to be a heart surgeon, so that’s what he did. He’s disciplined, hardworking, wise - he’s pretty much the smartest person I know. But growing up, I despised him. He lacked empathy and could be extremely insensitive at times. But when things would go bad for me, he always knew exactly what to say and he knew how to get his point across. But I hated him while living in Michigan because I was obsessed with ONLY having fun and playing video games with my friends and he abhorred video games. He would guilt trip me when he’d walk into my room and find me playing something. One time, he even took away my xbox 360 after I failed a test, and said he’d give it back after a week. I never got it back. Despite the negatives, he taught me to not let my emotions get the best of me, he taught me how to remain calm, how to be humble, and so much more.

My mom, on the other hand is the COMPLETE opposite of my dad. She’s outgoing, sensitive, gullible, and unlike my dad, she could befriend ANYONE she meet. When she passes homeless people, she ALWAYS gives them money out of sympathy. To make it clear how nice she is,  if you sat Hitler down with her for some tea, Hitler would leave with his mustache shaved, and with a big, teeth grinning smile. She can make anyone like her. My mom spoiled me beyond senseless. She’d end my punishments early, she’d buy junkfood that the neighbors would eat up the next day, and she would buy me whatever I wanted under $200 and then say “Just don’t tell your father!” Even most of my friends at one point said, “Why can’t your mom be my mom?” However, my mom liked and still likes to live in a world where her feelings come before facts. She tends to get ripped off or scammed a lot when she bought stuff online or in person. Not to mention she sometimes follows the crowd instead of thinking critically. Ignoring her flaws, my mother taught me empathy, compassion, and love.

So having parents that were polar opposites from each other really balanced me out as a kid. I was (and still am) a shy boy, but I was quick to open up to whoever I trusted. Unless I was fighting with my parents, I rarely let my emotions control me. I’d be humble and respectful in public and or at school, and then I’d be my immature, batshit crazy and edgy self with my friends. 

My school life was okay. In 1st grade, I met my best friend, Christian.

2nd grade I had surgery on my feet again and missed 6th months of school. When third grade came, my dad convinced my mom to hold me back a grade since I missed so much and they switched me over to a private school. I cried and begged them to keep me in the same grade but the answer was ‘nope’. Today, I’m glad they held me back.

Life at the private school, STM, was vastly different than the public school I’d been going to. My grade had about 20 kids and I was the oldest there. All the boys were little jocks. Obsessed with sports. I played soccer and baseball a year before but sports wasn’t really my thing. The boys were nice to me though and I became friends with them, though I barely had anything in common with them. So I turned to the girls. I befriended most of the girls, and even sat at their side of the table at lunch everyday. I had a huge crush on a girl named Casey, and funnily enough, so did all the other boys. So I spent 2nd and 3rd grade trying to slide into Casey’s DM’s and by the end of the third grade, I was in. Well, I mean, we were extremely close. I went to her house, she went to mine, and I was a happy boy. So far, life was going well.

4th grade came and I was scared. Rumor had it that the 4th grade teacher was a mean bitch, and half of my other classmates had switched schools, leaving 9 kids in the class. So I convinced my parents to pull me out and move me to a bigger private school. STA.

This is where shit went down. I went to STA from grade 4 to grade 8. One day, in 5th grade, when we were all edgy, horny boys who had sex ed coming up in a week , eight of us went outside and I recorded a video of one of my friends, goofily explaining how to have sex in five steps. I uploaded the video to Youtube in 2013 titled, ‘Nick’s 5 special steps.’

Two days pass, and I’m sitting in my homeroom with the eight other boys and suddenly two of the school’s priests come in. I remember one thing Fr. A said that day. He made eye contact with every boy in the room besides me, and said,

“I hope to see you all in reconciliation because you all have a lot to atone for.”

I thought this was funny because I was Lutheran and didn’t do reconciliation. 

In a smart move, my dad made me delete my first youtube channel, epickarek, in fear that the school would file a lawsuit since the video showed minor’s faces. 

After that incident, life was pretty normal and uneventful up until 8th grade. In February, 2016, I was expelled. My friends at STA abhorred me. Those who were my friends a mere two days ago started sending me death threats.

 I started going to therapy and went to the public middle school in my area. Switching to that school was one of the best changes in my life. I made sure to tell no one about why I switched schools and within a few days, I had friends in every class. Not close friends, but friends that you could sit down at lunch and have a chat with. 

I started hearing the rumors during my second week there. One day, in math class, the girl in front of me, Savannah, turned around and asked out of nowhere, “Did you kill someone? I heard you did.” The classroom was tiny and there were about 8 people in the class so everyone heard, including the teacher, and they turned toward me, waiting for an answer. Instantly, I faintly laughed and said something along the lines of “I wouldn’t be sitting here if I did.” Everyone laughed and the class continued. The next day, it seemed like all 200 kids in my grade were focused on me. People constantly approached me, asking crazy questions and telling me the absurd rumors they heard. 

“I heard you stabbed someone.”

“Did you stab yourself?”

“What’s juvie like?”

“My friend at your old school says not to trust you. What did you do?”

The rumors drew more people to me, and ironically, I befriended most of those people once they saw that I wasn’t a psychopath. 

When the summer of 2016, came, I had my first serious girlfriend. Despite my parents being on the verge of a divorce, my life was at it’s peak. I had a girlfriend, a best friend, and a whole group of friends who felt like brothers. 

The next thing I know, It’s Christmas break and I’m in Oklahoma visiting family and she breaks up with me... for one of my friends. That led me to become super depressed, and angry. Very angry. Most of my friends were there for me. But talking about the breakup openly is the reason why everything went downhill from there. TLDR, My Ex, and myself BOTH overreacted.

I’m not going to tell the whole story online, but If you really want to know, I’ll tell you in person. 

Anyway, to shorten a long story, I got a call from my ex’s father saying if I don’t stay away from her, her family will take legal action. So, fearful of court, I respected his demand and stayed away. The next day when I got home from school, I found a FAT stack of papers on the kitchen table labeled, Personal Protection Order, aka a restraining order. I was furious and I stupidly posted to snapchat out of rage, roasting her about it. And within the next week, my family was in court with her’s. The judge, was the same judge who was working my parent’s divorce, (I don’t know why or how that’s allowed) and she did not like my dad, but she especially did not like my mom. Anyway, the PPO said on the front page that I wasn’t allowed to talk about her, ANYWHERE. Online or in person. so that’s why I was there. The judge banned me from the internet for until 2018 and I went home.

Stupidly, I violated the PPO twice after that (The judge then banned me from social media until 2019) and after the third time in court, the judge insulted my mother for how she raised me and I was found guilty, put into a squad car, and SHIPPED.

Like I said, if you want to know more details, just ask me in person. I’m getting pretty good at telling the story.

Fast forward a few weeks and it’s the last day of my freshman year of high school. I’ll never forget that day. I watched the people in my grade throw their hands up, celebrating and rushing out the doors, and I remember just standing there thinking, “I’m never going to see these guys again.”

What’s even worse was the fact that I was going to have to leave my group of around 8-12 friends.  And a few prior to the move, my best friend of 8 years ended our friendship because he was upset that I didn’t tell him that I was moving sooner. If that’s how he really felt, I don’t blame him, for I was depressed and acting strange.

My best friend strayed away from our group when he stopped talking to me so I really only had a few select people in my friend group that I could really call friends. Dillion, Josh, Keaton, Brock, (even maybe Preston) although I only spent around a year with them, we had powerful connections with each other. They felt like brothers. So when my mom said she was moving to Oklahoma, I was destroyed. I wasn’t going to let my mom move alone, but I was going to have to leave my support group. It was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made. I remember the week before we moved, I drove all around Lansing, listening to the Guardians of the Galaxy II playlist and feeling numb.

Then we moved

Within two months of moving to Oklahoma, smoking weed had become a daily habit. I had already been introduced to it by some friends before I moved, so I was familiar with the drug. At first, It diminished my guilt. I didn’t have to think about my friends I left or my old best friend...

I didn’t have to constantly think about the nice cop leading me out of the downtown courthouse into his car in some loose handcuffs.

I didn’t have to think about being in that dark, concrete solitary cell for two days, going crazy thinking that my white, skinny ass was going to juvie for 21 days like the judge said...

I didn’t have to think about the satanic, traumatizing things I did to that person in 8th grade that I still struggle to forgive myself for....

I didn’t have to think about anything if I just smoked my problems and sadness away. 

My first three days as a sophomore were miserable. I had already been to 7 different schools (ask me) and I was exhausted with the thought of having to start over with making new friends. So me, already depressed, convinced my mom to let me do online classes at home.

By the summer of 2018, my cousin had introduced me to his group of friends and we all got along pretty well. We smoked everyday until the end of summer. As fall drew near, I was PARANOID. I was two years younger than most of my friends and I thought I was annoying to them and felt like I intruded on their group, so I distanced myself. I stopped snapping the group chat and stopped inviting them over. I pushed them away because I was paranoid. I had never been as paranoid as I was until I started smoking weed.

2019 came and despite it being the end of my internet ban, I was broken. Being high was the new sober. My highs started turning into a buzz and only a buzz. It didn’t make me laugh or smile, it just made me a lazy husk that played video games and watched youtube endlessly. 

When the summer of 2019 arrived, my cousin came to spend the summer with me. Now, I don’t want to rant about other people anymore so I’ll just say this. He knew I was broken. It was clear as day; I’d wake up, sit at my desk all day, then go to sleep. Despite my attempts at open conversation, he was never willing to be vulnerable with me, even when Etika died. So when the end of summer came, we were both very condescending and passive aggressive toward one another.

After that summer, I was left still high, insecure, mean, emotionless, and lonely. I didn’t want to contact my Michigan friends because was a little bitch. I was afraid they would see what I’d become and they’d distance themselves from me, so I turned to the internet. I knew that I had fans and friends that waited two years for my return, so I started streaming. All was going well, but despite all of my internet friends, I wasn’t happy. Not knowing the source of my unhappiness, I continued to smoke and stream, slowly ignoring my internet friends over time, and I continued neglecting myself.

Then mid December came. I don’t remember how it happened, but I stopped smoking for a week. It was during that week that I realized what I just typed above. I was emotionless - I hadn’t genuinely laughed in months, I felt pressured to stream. My relationships sucked and were fading day by day, so I stopped smoking. 

Christmas soon came and to simply put it, I relapsed. One small hit. That’s all it took. I took one tiny vape hit on Christmas evening and I’ve been smoking everyday since then. 

I’ve wrote this not because I want pity, but because I want to help my friends understand me a little better.

To all of my friends,  I know I’ve been distant from all of you. Please, just be a little more patient with me, I’m getting there. :) 

Anyway... I started writing this mini essay on July 31st and I’ve spent 6 days working on this. I’ve never talked about some of this stuff openly so it feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest. My final thoughts are in my post that precedes this. Thanks for reading, I love you all, be safe, don’t catch the VID, and remember,

Dicks out for Harambe.

[iwrotemyeyesout]

You do not get to tell me what’s real for me and what’s not This one last time you ran away from me, I told myself; “don’t you dare chase after a person who doesn’t want you at all.” So I didn’t. And I’m happy I didn’t sit outside your window so you could shut me out again and again, and again because I’m sick of running after something that never wanted me at all. I am over it, And don’t tell me I’m not Because you don’t know me anymore– you don’t get to have that privelege at all anymore because you chose for it to be that way. don’t get me wrong, I miss the good times, I will never get over the good times only a fool wouldn’t bask in nostalgia But I’m over it– I’m over you throwing me to the curb, Honestly, I knew in my heart even when you were still holding my hands, you didn’t love me anymore. I was more of a chore and it’s fine. We both fucked this relationship in our own ways, why don’t we admit that? I was sick and tired of being treated like shit; I cheated. You were sick and tired of being treated like shit; You finally left. So sue me, for coming here, If it bothered you that much, make it private, delete it! The reason why I came here in the first place was because I couldn’t believe that that morning you were Kissing me goodbye, telling me you loved me Then, you left. Like that, without a word– Why? What was said? Why did you make that decision in the end? What pushed you? And God, just something out of your mouth. So don’t blame me for moving on, I was fucking forced to You left a bitter taste in my mouth, And if only you could have said something else, I would have been able to close the book With peace. Instead the last page was ripped out, like my heart. Don’t tell me I didn’t hurt, in fact I’m still hurting. You broke my heart too. So if you’re wondering why, That’s why, I was here. I had to believe that at some point it was good. Or that maybe you left me a goodbye here. But instead you left me with pointed fingers, bitter about the fact that I met someone else. He’s here for the good and the bad, and it is none of your business but I’m glad we had an argument. First fight already? Yes! Of course, that’s how relationships work. Why? Did you go into your new relationship thinking you wouldn’t argue at all? Fuck, well, I’m sorry to say that you haven’t really grown up at all like you claim to be. You don’t get to gage when it’s normal to have the first fight. And you definitely don’t get to speak about my relationship with Shaun at all, why? Because you’re not apart of my life anymore. Remember? You took yourself out of it. You decided you wanted it to be this way. If you had said the truth; That it’s not going to work then I would have never questioned it, hey at least we tried right? No hard feelings. But you unceremoniously left me hanging! Do you know how much that hurts? It hurt when I hurt you, I’m sure. And the pain we both feel? Tremendous Different pains for both ends but; Tremendous. But in the end, it was horrible I had to muster a smile because I had to. And when I felt like my knees were giving up on me, I bit my tongue and continued on. Because I had no choice. But if you really are so curious, You know what we fought about? We fought about him walking out. I am stubborn and I refused to label what Shaun and I had, “we’re seeing each other”, I would say. He wants me to be his girlfriend, But I am scared to give someone the opportunity to stay because they might do the opposite instead, And leave. One night, he snapped, he asked why I was always so suspicious of him leaving, And then I told him. I told him about you and me And how I’m scared if I ever fuck up or get into a serious argument with him he would leave me too. Just like the way you left me. We fought, and fuck it was glorious He knows the bad I’ve done but above all He saw the good that I was even after the bad. Cam honestly, you chose it to be this way. But don’t tell me what I feel right now isn’t real, because like I said; you don’t get a say anymore. Please, don’t tell Faith about me– or whatever you want to name her. Sell the ring, throw it, give it to your girlfriend, fucking burn it– I don’t care Just don’t give it to her. I don’t deserve to know her and she certainly doesn’t deserve to ever know about me. I don’t deserve her because I fucked this relationship up. She doesn’t deserve me; because from what you’ve decided, she obviously deserves better. You wanted me completely out of your life. Then follow through with it. Don’t speak about me to her. She shouldn’t even know about me. She should only ever know me as, “dad’s ex”. But I must applaud you, you still make me laugh. Please, don’t flatter yourself. I’m not trying to recreate what we had. Why would I ever want to do that? Please, I’m trying to replace what we had– with something better. Thats the point. I want to replace you. And actually be genuinely happy about it. Not just replace you because I have to make you jealous or I'm trying to fill this deep void in my heart. No. Why would I replace that void with something fake? I have no time nor the energy. I’m replacing you with what is actually good for me. Shaun is actually good for me. Shaun is good to me. this has nothing to do with you You wanted it this way, and I want to give you what you want one last time.

kp