#because back in those days you just couldnt stream shit online | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max ��

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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ivyuns · 4 years ago

Text

love again ❆✰

lee minho

genre: angst / fluff

word count: 2.4k

warnings: drugs + language + a bit suggestive + a few grammar mistakes (this was written at 5 am plz i cant)

A/N: why do i keep having dreams of someone who i used to like :(

masterlist

nonidol!minho x fem!reader

taking a picture of the scenery of paris in front of you, smiling of how well it came out, a real smile this time. hearing a voice call out your name, you turn around as your smile dropped, seeing someone who you didnt ever wanted to see. lee minho was his name.

it started as you two were young and in love with each other back in high school. you two we known as the toxic couple. not because you two were bad for each other, but because you did everything together: drugs, alcohol, getting high, sex, you name it. other than those, you two had another side of being soft. the romantic dates and the funny days shared.

the time you two hung out as best friends everyday, making everyone in school thinking you two were couples. the night where minho took you star gazing late at night after having a fight with your mom and ended up kissing you and asking you to be his one and only.

til your mom found out that you did drugs and drank underage because of minho. she forced you to break up with him and you felt like shit. you called him to meet you at the park you two always went to and left the house to go see him.

arriving at the park and sitting on a bench with the winter breeze around you in your light cardigan. feeling something on your shoulders made you feel tense til you smelled where the owner of the jacket is. lifting your head up, a tear fell from your eyes. minho’s eyes soften as he took a seat next to you and wiped the tear away.

“y/n, whats wrong love?” minho asked. “m-min, we need to break up”. minhos eyes widened from your sentence. “b-baby what happen? is everything okay at home? please tell me”. sighing and standing up as you took off minhos jacket off of your shoulders and gave it back to him. “just know that i still love you forever and always and we’ll meet in the next life” and left him.

minho sat there in shock, not knowing what just happened. it felt like a big part of him just left him.

the next week at school, you werent at your seat. you were nowhere found in school. you were just laying on your bed, feeling total shit. feeling nothing to do but just cry to sleep. your mom made you do online school to stop you from seeing minho and his friends. you phone made another noise as you sighed. looking up to see your phone on your nightstand, you see 44 missed calls and 64 messages from minho. tears falling down even more, you ended up falling asleep with a worried minho waiting for you at school.

and that was the last time you ever saw him, you first and last lover. his cousin, who was your best friend had kept in touch with you and told you what minho had done during the breakup. inhaling and consuming drugs, overdosing on drugs, drinking more and going crazy while yelling your name and wanting you to come back into his life.

minho eventually got over the breakup in a year. looking at the memories you gave him, he had the urge to call you names you didnt like him saying. his cousin passed by his room and heard him saying things you hated being called. knowing it was about you since his cousin had knew you before minho so of course you told her everything.

feeling hurt and angry about what she told you, you felt yourself growing apart from him. why still love him after he called you those names? you gave yourselft sometime to heal and feel better about yourself.

now here you are now 3 years later, visiting your dream city, france. you always wanted to come here when you and minho were a bit older but things didnt work out.

turning around after hearing minho called you, he ran over to you. looking at your figure, he can tell you lost too much weight but still had the perfect brown eyes with your hair recently dyed to light brown and your fashion senses that changed. only with you in a black top and baggy tan pants with black converse. god how much did he miss you.

a few minutes after not talking, you figured he just wanted your attention after he searched you everywhere in paris when his cousin gave him updates on you. walking away from him, he quickly grabbed your wrist. “y-y/n, can we please talk?” you made him let go of your wrist and continued walking to your hotel.

minho quickly ran in front of you and stopped you. “please y/n, what did i do wrong?” you sighed and looked up at him. “maybe if you werent so psycho, you wouldve known.”

minho stood there and thought of what happened. was it when you broke up with him? no, it couldnt be your fault. when he called you more than enough? no. when he was about to propose to you and run away with each other? no way. you two broke things before he could even ask.

‘shit’ he thought. it made him realize. he was too angry at some point and called you names that you hated being called and point out your insecurities. he knew someone was outside his door at the time.

facing back reality, he sees you still in front of him. “figured out now, mr lee minho?” you crossed your arms and a little smirk formed on your face. even after years, you still cant stop loving him. minho takes your hand and drags you to a park to lay under the sunset, watching to stars as it turns dark. remembering from your high school days.

laying down with you in minhos embrace, you whispered a ‘i love you’ to minho and fell asleep after missing the warmth of minho. minho, who smiled after you fell into your slumber and pulled you closer to him. “i love you too y/n”

a few hours, you woke up to nobody in the park but you and minho in the dark. noticing you were still in minhos arms, you got up and woke up minho. minho opened his eyes and saw your panic face. “minho, where are we?!”

minho was fully awake now. looking everywhere, he couldnt remember where or how he took you to this area. “god minho if you werent such a dumbass. youre lucky that my phone works fine here” you said as you gathered your stuff and grabbed minho’s hand, forcing him to get up and follow to directions on your phone to where your hotel was.

minho just smiled and walked close to you. “you havent changed a bit y/n” he says. you stopped walking and turned around which resulted minho bumping into you. “youre really asking for a slap are you?” minho quickly shook his head a no and you turned around and began walking again.

opening your door to your hotel room, minho was full in daze. everything was decorated beautiful just for a hotel suite, or thats what minho thought it was. “you can sleep on the couch here, ill be upstairs if you need anything” you said and head upstairs where your room was after giving him an extra toothbrush and toothpaste and other necessary items.

“wait y/n!” he calls your name and you turn around to walk downstairs. stopping at he last step of the stairs, minho walks towards you. “can you actually stay down here. i-i mean like so we can catch up on stuff like you know?” you knew he just wanted you to stay down here since he couldnt be alone.

“ya, youre just trying love me again arent you minho?” you joked as you poked him. minho scoffed and went to sit on the couch. “as if”. walking towards the couch and sitting next to minho, you lift your legs onto the ottoman. “im just joking min, of course ill stay here with you” you say to him and looked at him with a happy smile. minho smiles also after hearing you call out his nickname youll call him during your relationship.

hugging you waist, minho leans towards you as you get lost in his sparkling eyes. he lays you down and kisses your lips. at first, you wanted to pull away, but after missing his kisses, how could you resist it?

a few weeks had gone by and you two had returned to korea as a couple again. another 3 weeks and you moved in with minho after getting kicked out when she found out you found minho. with no hesitation, you facetimed minho about what happened and let his loving girlfriend move in with him.

moving your belongs into his apartment, you felt nauseous. going to the toilet to release the sickness, minho puts down a box and runs over to your side after hearing disturbing noises from the bathroom. “baby, what happened? are you okay?” minho says and tries his best to comfort you while he lifts your hair into a ponytail so its not in the way. “i-i think im-”

tears started streaming down your face as thoughts ran past your brain. what if he doesnt want the baby? is it too early? were still in our early twenties. you were cut off by minho hugging you. “its okay baby. we can check and see in the morning. lets go head to bed, i already got the last box.” nodding your head, minho leads you to the bedroom with his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest, both slowly falling asleep.

waking up first thing in the morning, you turn and see minho still asleep. going to get ready to for the store. most importantly, for the pregnancy test.

walking back into the apartment, you immediately go to the bathroom and take the test. waiting for the test to give out the answer, minho wakes up to you not next to him. grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he goes to your contact and texts you.

my baby <3

where are u ?

hearing the familiar notification bell, he sighs as he realize you didnt take your phone with you. getting up, minho goes to the bathroom and sees you with the test in the palm of your hands. he goes up behind you and hugs you and to see the test come back with positive.

with the biggest smile on his face, minho turns you around to face him. “you dont know how happy i am y/n” “but minho, how are you not mad?” you pulled away from the hug with a confusion look on your face, “shhh, just pretend i wanted this to happen in the future when we dated.” minho back hugs you, facing the bathroom mirror.

you see minhos hands rubbing your stomach. “its been our dream to have kids and get married. and ta da!” turning yourself around, you hug minho at a better position. “thank you minho for loving me back and not leaving us, i love you so much”. minho leaned in and put his forehead on yours. “i love you more than you do baby” and gave you a loving peck.

END <3

yes another minho fic bc this was sitting in my drafts and i dont know where this was heading to hehe

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inkbrusher · 7 years ago

Text

maybe it’s dramatic of me to say, but i often think i’m intrinsically lonesome by nature and am destined to stay that way.

i dont know what’s wrong with me, or if there is anything wrong with me, though i always feel like i’m cursed in that aspect... i feel like it’s impossible for me to get genuinely close with people. i am shy but i’ve learned to be personable to get by. but i dont know what it is i dont have that just does not allow me to make proper friends

i’m probably thinking about this a lot because lately i’ve just been so around people i wish i could be better friends with or seeing people be far more successful at making friends than me

namely my sister. i’m sure it’s evident i love her to pieces and i harbor no ill-will against her in any way, especially on this front, but it just strikes a cord with me to see her come into college and make so many friends immediately. even outside of that, in general she gets so along with people, far better than i ever could... anyone who gets to know both of us always ends up closer with her. its funny that people used to always say she was the shyer one. again i dont hate her or even dislike her for that but i can’t help but always just observe the difference between us and try to think about what is different with me. what am i missing

i suppose growing up with her, being so incredibly close, i felt maybe it was ok i was never really able to make friends bc i’d always have her. we’re always on the same page and sometimes i almost feel like we’re practically the same person. so to witness her excel at being so personable was just... made me realize it really is just me here. having these problems. my lack of competence in socializing is not exactly a universal experience

this isn’t all about my sister tho... its just a lot of that triggers these thoughts im having lately. watching her get along with people so well kills me bc i wish i could be like that. and then it makes me look at people i do talk to and wish i could do better with them. im a pretty low maintenance friend, though maybe too much so. ive grown away from people simply because i never initiated, and once they stopped, we never really reconnected.

i think about this and i dont know if this is because of my lack of experience with having real friends or if the first few friend circles i had online were founded on such passive aggression that it enabled and fed my tendency to shy away from confrontation or even just outright communication, which is actually really important. i had messy falling outs about a year ago, just because i couldnt choose who to side with, and i feel perhaps that is still affecting me.

and maybe i feel like i can never have that because i felt i had friends in high school, a best friend, even, but the fact that i no longer keep tabs on any of them anymore speaks to that point. i see now that the best friend was only one because we shared most of our classes every year. we’d hang out yeah, but that started falling apart in our senior year, and by the end i’d heard about how many times she’d had big hangouts with our other friends without inviting me. i mean in the end i see i did not share much in common with any of these people but even so... she called me her best friend and pulled that stuff... i know that sounds like petty hs drama because it is, but it’s that stuff that’s become so rooted in me that i feel like i’m incapable of ever having or being a good close friend

i am about to finish college and i haven’t made one real friend... by real friend i mean someone you go out of your way to hang out with... someone it doesn’t feel too painful to be one-on-one with... i have a lot of acquaintances tho. like im friendly enough with a lot of people, especially with animation floor people just bc im there so much and we all kind of assist each other, but i never hang out with anyone. a lot of them are friends, but i just feel strained with them. is it me? i think it is. i dont know why i can’t

four years of this has done its work on me, it really does drive me crazy at times. ive always been told ‘youll find your people!’ like in hs i looked forward to college for that but look where it’s left me... nowhere really. and then that goes back to seeing how my sister has had a completely different experience immediately coming into college so i know it is me

i’m a human being i crave social interaction yeah. i just want to know what its like to have that again. what is it like to have a real ass best friend??? to talk about stupid mundane shit like how was your day or literally anything. i hardly remember what it feels like to be so insync with another person on that level and yet i find myself missing having a feeling like that so bad... so so bad... i guess thats why i think about love so much too but thinking that far is laughable considering i am mediocre at just socializing

obviously ive supplemented this with my online presence... the reason i am Constantly online is obviously a testament to this. im lonely so i have to find a way to fill that in. ofc it’s been that much easier to make online friends but i still feel there’s an imbalance. for one, i know i’m hardly ever the one initiating. most of the ppl i talk to are ppl who talked to me first bc they got to know me thru my art (god knows where i’d be if i didnt have that thing going for me at least). i dont mean this to offend any of my online friends but i just think about how one sided even those friendships can be. i know i never initiate and i feel bad that i probably make it difficult for you. i just have no idea what to do anymore

and obviously this loneliness is why i post so much. why i wrote this whole god danged stream of consciousness for no reason. why i get so personal in posts or what have u. i got no one to talk to anymore or feel like anyone cares to listen and i feel like i can’t just use pals to ramble insecurities like this anymore and not give anything back... it’s not fair to them

but simultaneously i feel stuck in this limbo and as nothing has ever really gotten better as years go on, i feel i will be for the rest of my life

#.txt #its really late and im just getting overly and inwardly thoughtful #i just need to spill words dont mind me

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viralnewstime · 6 years ago

Link

Facebook has given another update on measures it took and what more it’s doing in the wake of the livestreamed video of a gun massacre by a far right terrorist who killed 50 people in two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand.

Earlier this week the company said the video of the slayings had been viewed less than 200 times during the livestream broadcast itself, and about about 4,000 times before it was removed from Facebook — with the stream not reported to Facebook until 12 minutes after it had ended.

None of the users who watched the killings unfold on the company’s platform in real-time apparently reported the stream to the company, according to the company.

It also previously said it removed 1.5 million versions of the video from its site in the first 24 hours after the livestream, with 1.2M of those caught at the point of upload — meaning it failed to stop 300,000 uploads at that point. Though as we pointed out in our earlier report those stats are cherrypicked — and only represent the videos Facebook identified. We found other versions of the video still circulating on its platform 12 hours later.

In the wake of the livestreamed terror attack, Facebook has continued to face calls from world leaders to do more to make sure such content cannot be distributed by its platform.

The prime minister of New Zealand, Jacinda Ardern told media yesterday that the video “should not be distributed, available, able to be viewed”, dubbing it: “Horrendous.”

She confirmed Facebook had been in contact with her government but emphasized that in her view the company has not done enough.

She also later told the New Zealand parliament: “We cannot simply sit back and accept that these platforms just exist and that what is said on them is not the responsibility of the place where they are published. They are the publisher. Not just the postman.”

We asked Facebook for a response to Ardern’s call for online content platforms to accept publisher-level responsibility for the content they distribute. Its spokesman avoided the question — pointing instead to its latest piece of crisis PR which it titles: “A Further Update on New Zealand Terrorist Attack”.

Here it writes that “people are looking to understand how online platforms such as Facebook were used to circulate horrific videos of the terrorist attack”, saying it therefore “wanted to provide additional information from our review into how our products were used and how we can improve going forward”, before going on to reiterate many of the details it has previously put out.

Including that the massacre video was quickly shared to the 8chan message board by a user posting a link to a copy of the video on a file-sharing site. This was prior to Facebook itself being alerted to the video being broadcast on its platform.

It goes on to imply 8chan was a hub for broader sharing of the video — claiming that: “Forensic identifiers on many of the videos later circulated, such as a bookmarks toolbar visible in a screen recording, match the content posted to 8chan.”

So it’s clearly trying to make sure it’s not singled out by political leaders seek policy responses to the challenge posed by online hate and terrorist content.

Further details it chooses to dwell on in the update is how the AIs it uses to aid the human content review process of flagged Facebook Live streams are in fact tuned to “detect and prioritize videos that are likely to contain suicidal or harmful acts” — with the AI pushing such videos to the top of human moderators’ content heaps, above all the other stuff they also need to look at.

Clearly “harmful acts” were involved in the New Zealand terrorist attack. Yet Facebook’s AI was unable to detected a massacre unfolding in real time. A mass killing involving an automatic weapon slipped right under the robot’s radar.

Facebook explains this by saying it’s because it does not have the training data to create an algorithm that understands it’s looking at mass murder unfolding in real time.

It also implies the task of training an AI to catch such a horrific scenario is exacerbated by the proliferation of videos of first person shooter videogames on online content platforms.

It writes: “[T]his particular video did not trigger our automatic detection systems. To achieve that we will need to provide our systems with large volumes of data of this specific kind of content, something which is difficult as these events are thankfully rare. Another challenge is to automatically discern this content from visually similar, innocuous content – for example if thousands of videos from live-streamed video games are flagged by our systems, our reviewers could miss the important real-world videos where we could alert first responders to get help on the ground.”

The videogame element is a chilling detail to consider.

It suggests that a harmful real-life act that mimics a violent video game might just blend into the background, as far as AI moderation systems are concerned; invisible in a sea of innocuous, virtually violent content churned out by gamers. (Which in turn makes you wonder whether the Internet-steeped killer in Christchurch knew — or suspected — that filming the attack from a videogame-esque first person shooter perspective might offer a workaround to dupe Facebook’s imperfect AI watchdogs.)

Facebook post is doubly emphatic that AI is “not perfect” and is “never going to be perfect”.

“People will continue to be part of the equation, whether it’s the people on our team who review content, or people who use our services and report content to us,” it writes, reiterating yet again that it has ~30,000 people working in “safety and security”, about half of whom are doing the sweating hideous toil of content review.

This is, as we’ve said many times before, a fantastically tiny number of human moderators given the vast scale of content continually uploaded to Facebook’s 2.2BN+ user platform.

Moderating Facebook remains a hopeless task because so few humans are doing it.

Moreover AI can’t really help. (Later in the blog post Facebook also writes vaguely that there are “millions” of livestreams broadcast on its platform every day, saying that’s why adding a short broadcast delay — such as TV stations do — wouldn’t at all help catch inappropriate real-time content.)

At the same time Facebook’s update makes it clear how much its ‘safety and security’ systems rely on unpaid humans too: Aka Facebook users taking the time and mind to report harmful content.

Some might say that’s an excellent argument for a social media tax.

The fact Facebook did not get a single report of the Christchurch massacre livestream while the terrorist attack unfolded meant the content was not prioritized for “accelerated review” by its systems, which it explains prioritize reports attached to videos that are still being streamed — because “if there is real-world harm we have a better chance to alert first responders and try to get help on the ground”.

Though it also says it expanded its acceleration logic last year to “also cover videos that were very recently live, in the past few hours”.

But again it did so with a focus on suicide prevention — meaning the Christchurch video would only have been flagged for acceleration review in the hours after the stream ended if it had been reported as suicide content.

So the ‘problem’ is that Facebook’s systems don’t prioritize mass murder.

“In [the first] report, and a number of subsequent reports, the video was reported for reasons other than suicide and as such it was handled according to different procedures,” it writes, adding it’s “learning from this” and “re-examining our reporting logic and experiences for both live and recently live videos in order to expand the categories that would get to accelerated review”.

No shit.

Facebook also discusses its failure to stop versions of the massacre video from resurfacing on its platform, having been — as it tells it — “so effective” at preventing the spread of propaganda from terrorist organizations like ISIS with the use of image and video matching tech.

It claims its tech was outfoxed in this case by “bad actors” creating many different edited versions of the video to try to thwart filters, as well as by the various ways “a broader set of people distributed the video and unintentionally made it harder to match copies”.

So, essentially, the ‘virality’ of the awful event created too many versions of the video for Facebook’s matching tech to cope.

“Some people may have seen the video on a computer or TV, filmed that with a phone and sent it to a friend. Still others may have watched the video on their computer, recorded their screen and passed that on. Websites and pages, eager to get attention from people seeking out the video, re-cut and re-recorded the video into various formats,” it writes, in what reads like another attempt to spread blame for the amplification role that its 2.2BN+ user platform plays.

In all Facebook says it found and blocked more than 800 visually-distinct variants of the video that were circulating on its platform.

It reveals it resorted to using audio matching technology to try to detect videos that had been visually altered but had the same soundtrack. And again claims it’s trying to learn and come up with better techniques for blocking content that’s being re-shared widely by individuals as well as being rebroadcast by mainstream media. So any kind of major news event, basically.

In a section on next steps Facebook says improving its matching technology to prevent the spread of inappropriate viral videos being spread is its priority.

But audio matching clearly won’t help if malicious re-sharers just both re-edit the visuals and switch the soundtrack too in future.

It also concedes it needs to be able to react faster “to this kind of content on a live streamed video” — though it has no firm fixes to offer there either, saying only that it will explore “whether and how AI can be used for these cases, and how to get to user reports faster”.

Another priority it claims among its “next steps” is fighting “hate speech of all kinds on our platform”, saying this includes more than 200 white supremacist organizations globally “whose content we are removing through proactive detection technology”.

It’s glossing over plenty of criticism on that front too though — including research that suggests banned far right hate preachers are easily able to evade detection on its platform. Plus its own foot-dragging on shutting down far right extremists. (Facebook only finally banned one infamous UK far right activist last month, for example.)

In its last PR sop, Facebook says it’s committed to expanding its industry collaboration to tackle hate speech via the Global Internet Forum to Counter Terrorism (GIFCT), which formed in 2017 as platforms were being squeezed by politicians to scrub ISIS content — in a collective attempt to stave off tighter regulation.

“We are experimenting with sharing URLs systematically rather than just content hashes, are working to address the range of terrorists and violent extremists operating online, and intend to refine and improve our ability to collaborate in a crisis,” Facebook writes now, offering more vague experiments as politicians call for content responsibility.

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