#because im barely on social media anymore so like

[og-danny-dorito]

TW for goretwt mention

me when theres a twitter artist i like that does creepypasta stuff and i see a common tag that they use is "goretwt" so im like woah thats funky they have other people that draw viscera? kinda cool let me look into it and the first video is a snuff film with cutesy anime music

my heart dropped through my ass that scared the fuck out of me hello ?

[periprose]

why do people on instagram unfollow but assume you want to keep following them? you're not fucking famous lol

[the-trans-dragon]

What if they didn't put ads every 3 posts. Three posts between ads, literally. Not even counting the ad for Tumblr Live.

Also what if tumblr didn't know what city Im in. I do not want my location tracked or stored anywhere unless I give explicit ongoing permission, like with my GPS app that I allow to track me only when the app is open, and then it deletes the data (allegedly) when I stop giving permission.

[oneofthosecrazygirls-mp3]

time tables just got released and now it's hit me that the school year starts in 2 weeks and I've gotta take shit seriously and I am not feeling so good

[hottestvirgin]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐘 | 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐊

you and hyuck are in an open relationship, but at some point you get jealous that he regularly fucks with another woman. now, you have to prove that you’re better than her.

warnings(17+). nsfw, protected sex, rough sex, creampie, cunnilingus, slight dacryphilia, pet names, dirty talk, oral sex [for @toniiswrld !] & im taking requests rn!

walking through your apartment door was like deja-vu to him. he didn’t even knock. he never had to, ever since you’ve both developed this relationship. you were both friends years prior to hooking up.

in all honesty, you never really cared about who hyuck messed with. as long as he kept seeing you at the end. but it wasn’t until he started openly fucking another woman.

“we’re fucking, by the way.” hyuck casually told you as he scrolled through her social media account, clicking random pictures of hers to show you.

that was the first time jealousy had smacked you across the face. she was pretty, gorgeous even. but you weren’t jealous of her looks. you were jealous that she was getting what you thought was yours and yours only.

well, you did set this boundary— where you and him both could keep seeing other people without any hard feelings. but damn, did it come back and slap you in the face.

hyuck could sense your bitterness and turned his phone off, rubbing your thigh while he stared at you. “what happened to that mark guy? you stopped seeing him?”

“yeah. months ago,” you told him simply, meeting his gaze, “i told you this.” you had broken things off with mark because a tiny part of you felt that your relationship with hyuck was growing stronger to the point where you didn’t want anybody else but him.

and hyuck didn’t say anything, only staring at you as you tried to act nonchalant as possible. but he could see right through you, and you didn’t know that. “you good?” he questioned, studying your face.

“i’m good.”

“we lying to each other now?” the hand on your thigh inched higher and you began wondering if he could even hear your pounding heart in that moment.

he didn’t stop there— his hand slid around your waist and pulled you into his arms, guiding you onto his lap. this only created a new profound tension now that your eyes were on his and his’ only.

you swallowed hard with a nervous giggle, “i’m not lying to you, boy.”

“boy?” a chuckle fell past his plush lips and he rode his hand up and down your back. he was teasing you. seeing how far he could take his tricks until you reacted. seduction was always a game to him and you hated how you, along with every woman he knew, lost.

you hummed at his words, “it’s getting pretty late. i think you should go see that other girl if you’re this horny.” you stood from his lap but he caught your wrist and pulled you back onto him.

“this what we doin’ now, Y/N?” he asked, face inching closer and closer to yours. he caught your lips into his but before it got steamier you pulled away with a small smile and a nod. “cool.”

weeks had passed and your time with hyuck went from seeing each other damn near everyday to casual texting to which he barely even responded to. everytime you called him he’d tell you that he was with that girl.

you hated feeling this desperate— telling yourself to swallow your pride and try calling him to see if he’d still want to come over, or if he still even wanted to fuck with you.

but it was so much you could take. you didn’t care about getting dick-ed down by him anymore, you just wanted your friend back.

eventually you stopped trying to reach him until one night, you received a phone call from “H”, (you had changed his contact name to be petty.) you stared at your phone for a split second before letting it stop buzzing.

H: wyd?

H: why you ain’t answer?

H: hello?

the buzzes continued and continued and continued. you were so close to answering to tell him to stop. but you heard your front door opening and shutting. you knew it was him but you wanted to keep acting nonchalant.

hyuck spotted you on your couch, snuggled up in your blanket while watching tv. he glared at you for a few seconds before opening his mouth.

“so you ignoring me now?” he walked over to you, standing in front of the tv when you didn’t respond fast enough. when you tried moving your head to see the screen he moved with you.

“move..”

“no,” he kept watching you, “why are you being like this?”

at this point, you had thought that it’d be better if you’d come out and tell him why you were upset, even though it was pretty clear. he wasn’t dumb and he was very aware on how you were after knowing you for so long.

“so you haven’t been responding back to me because you were with her?” you asked simply. hyuck paused for a minute to take in your words, then he laughed. “so that’s what this is about?” he asked, “you being bitter?”

“m’ not bitter..”

“you are. and i wasn’t even with her today. i was with her yesterday.” he told you as if it was any better. that had pissed you off, and it didn’t help that he sat next to you on the couch. you tried scooting away but a firm grip on your arm pulled you closer to him.

“why are you being like this?” he asked again. and it took everything in you not to scream at him. he had literally dumped you for some random bitch.

“you need to stop seeing her.” you said, and hyuck furrowed his eyebrows, “what makes you think you can tell me who i stop seeing?”

“because i don’t want you fucking her!” you snapped, yanking your arm away from his grip. now, you were very upset. you had thought that it would prompt him to leave but he didn’t.

hyuck tsked at your words, “just so greedy,” he wrapped his arm around your waist, harder, pulling you towards his chest, “doing all this over some dick?”

well.. yes. you were, and you didn’t care anymore. he was yours first for years and you wanted to take back what was yours. but you couldn’t lie anymore, being pulled against his chest brought a new wave of warmness over you. and you realized how much you actually liked him.

how warm his tanned skin felt against yours, the way his bangs fell messily over his forehead. the manspread, his smell, everything.

“who's better.. me or her?”

hyuck paused for a minute, “i dunno, help me decide.” he ran his hand over the hardening bulge in his joggers and you were quick to get rid of them, crawling onto your knees below him.

you were so desperate to prove to him that your better than her, way better. leaving him in his boxers, you’re met with his erection. you ran your palm against him and he groaned lowly.

you pulled his boxers down and wrapped your fingers around his shaft, pumping your hand and he bit back another groan, lifting his shirt to watch you spit on his tip. “has she ever gotten you this hard before?” you asked.

“only you.” he told you, and it made your stomach churn in arousal. you were quick to part your lips and lick his tip. hyuck hissed and threw his head back, adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. then, you traced patterns along his tip, digging your tongue into his slit.

his hips jerked, “b-baby.. fuck,” he whimpered, warmness pooling in the pit of his stomach, “put it in your mouth.”

you complied, taking in a deep breath through your nose while you took him into your mouth, the corners of your mouth stretching to accommodate his size. hyuck groaned again when you started bobbing your head, using your hand to hold what you couldn’t take.

“shiiit, just like that.” he strained, grabbing a handful of your hair, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, his huge eyes staring back down at you. he thought you looked so cute with his cock stuffed in your mouth, he had missed this sight so much.

your heart pounded restlessly in your chest from the intense arousal that coursed through your body. you could feel wetness pooling in your panties as he stared down at you lustfully, eyebrows furrowed with his mouth slightly agape.

you could feel his cock twitch and throb in your mouth. he was quick to yank your head away, creating a small pop sound. spit dribbled down your chin and you wiped it off with the back of your hand. you gave him a certain look of annoyance.

“take your shorts off.” he purred, and you were quick to get rid of them. you could sense the shift in his demeanor, from needy to hungry.

“what?” he smiled, pushing you onto your back, the cold leather beneath you sent shivers down your spine, “haven’t tasted this pussy in so long.”

he was quick to push your legs apart, sprinkling wet kiss along your inner thighs just until he reached your heat. you were genuinely trying not to lose your shit since you haven’t gotten ate out in forever.

but when his tongue traced around your clit before sucking it in between his plush lips, you winced and your body tensed, hand reaching to massage your own breasts. then he lapped at your dripping hole, taking in the familiar taste and scent.

“hnngh, h-hyuck..” you cried out. he hummed at your whines, tongue gliding from your clit to your hole in fat stripes. he squeezed your soft thighs, slurping at your juices. your face burned in embarrassment at how wet you were. but you couldn’t help it, you missed your man.

he pulled away, just for a minute, kissing and licking your thighs again. “i hear you, pretty.” he mumbled against your thighs, all the way to your stomach and when he reached your clothed breasts, he was quick to tear the fabric away, latching his lips onto your hardened nipples.

as he sucked in them, he rubbed your clit in figure eights, occasionally running them over your hole and fuck.

“t..think m’ gonna cum.” you mewled, surprised at your own words. in your defense, you were technically edged for months. and little friction had your hips jerking for more.

“already?” hyuck teased, as if he wasn’t near his release from how pretty and desperate you looked, “open your mouth.”

you did, and he was quick to catch your lips into his. while he kissed you, his fingers slid into you, curling and hitting that spot almost immediately. it was sadistic how fast he started fingering you, squelching noises echoing in the living room as you’re silence by his lips.

you couldn’t even tell him that you were cumming but he knew from how you tighten around his fingers, clear liquid spilling out of you with each thrust.

he pulled away from your lips with a smile, your moans instantly spilling from your mouth.

“h..hyuck- ah, i..cant, fuuuuck—“ you pushed at his wrists, and he stopped, pulling his fingers out of you and you watched your juice drip from his hand.

“look how wet you got my fingers.” he held them up and your face twisted and went hot in embarrassment. hyuck grabbed your arm and turned you around, bending you over. when he lined his tip with your entrance, you wanted to get one last jab at him.

“wait. get a condom.” you huffed. hyuck sighed and reached for his discarded pants, pulling a condom from his pocket and ripping it open with his teeth, “you trying to be funny?” he questioned.

with a shrug, “don’t want whatever she probably gave you.” you stated, and you could tell that he was getting annoyed as he rolled the rubber onto his tip, rolling it onto him completely. “you got an attitude on you tonight, huh?”

sitting up, he manhandled you onto your hands and knees, lining his tip with your hole and without any warning, he slid in. the burning sensation of being stretched after weeks of no dick had you biting back a moan.

hyuck moved his hips, pushing the center of your back. your mouth opened to say something, anything. but it ended up staying hung open as moans were pounded out of you. hyuck grunted above you, “keep your back arched, girl.” he husked out, stilling his movements to grip your waist. the minute he stopped moving felt like torture and you were getting frustrated.

“i-i am, fuck!” you argued, and your body jolted when his hand came down onto your ass, stinging the flesh. “loose the attitude.” he threatened.

you winced when he continued to abuse your pussy, his skin slapping against yours and creating a never-ending cycle of skin slapping that filled your tiny apartment. he licked his lips, spreading your cheeks apart to watch himself disappear in you.

“so fucking tight. haven’t been fucking anyone else, hm?” hyuck interrogated, voice trembling as he picked up the pace. in all honesty, he hated when you fucked with other dudes that weren’t him. it had always irked him.

“o-only you, h..hyuck.” you whimpered. you couldn’t work up the courage to fuck anyone else. you wanted him and him only. “fuck me harder..”

he hummed at your words. it was so messy. so wet and sloppy. he wrapped his slender fingers around your neck, pulling you against his chest, strokes long and slow.

you couldn’t tell if your vision was turning black from how tight his hand was around your throat or from the intense pleasure. you couldn’t think anymore, mind fuzzy and blank, only thinking about him, him, and him.

“sooo good.. so good, don’t stop.” you choked out, and he shuttered inside of you, pushing you face-first into the cushions and delivering another hard slap onto your ass.

“yeah?” he moaned as he rutted into you, desperately chasing his own release. his tip pounded your cervix with each thrust and tears began to roll down your face.

“this is what you wanted right?” he rasped, stilling his hips again and pushing his cock in as far as it can go, “s’ all yours, pretty. this dick is all yours, fuck..”

the position is pushing you further and further to your orgasm, his hand pushing your head down as he slowly fucked your poor cunt. you were seeing fucking stars, something you only seen when he fucked you like this.

“s-so big.” you sobbed, reaching behind yourself to hold onto his wrist. you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down your face. your brain stopped functioning and you were certain that he was, in fact, fucking you dumb.

“you wanna cum?” hyuck questioned, he moved his hands off of you, leaning back slightly, “then bounce that shit on me.”

and you complied, fucking yourself on his big cock, pushing your body back and forth onto him while he watched, loving how you desperately tried to get yourself off. he was all the way in your stomach, abusing that spot deep inside of you.

“fuckfuckfuck, m’ close..” you moaned. and without a word, hyuck tightened his hands around your waist, fucking into you as you came hard around him, squeezing him so fucking tight. your body tensed the convulsed, a thick white ring forming at the base of his cock.

“s-shit.” he stuttered, quickly pulling out of you and pulling the rubber off, pumping his cock until his cum spurted all over your ass and back.

he left and you felt the weight of the couch dip when he came back with paper towels, and he wiped the mess off of your back, and then helped you sit up. you hated this part. you were sore, felt nasty, and awkward.

“s’ nothing to be embarrassed about. we’ve been doing this for a while now..” hyuck chuckled, slipping his boxers back on.

“i’m not embarrassed it’s.. i’m still mad at you.” hyuck gave you a look and tsked at your words, “i give you what you wanted and you’re still whining?”

well.. he was right. but you had the right to be mad at him. ignoring you for weeks? really? “i meant it when i said that i don’t want you fucking her anymore.”

he pursed his lips, and sighed. “fine. then don’t be seeing other dudes.”

“fine.”

“fine.” he repeated.

now, you were kinda glad that you ignored his initial call.

this is horrible but irdc

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Can I request #1 from your drabbles challenge, with Jack Hughes please?

Drabble Challenge Drabble Masterlist

“The skirt is supposed to be this short.”

Tonight you were going out with some of your coworkers for a happy hour but it always turned into a crazy night. Jack didn’t have a game or anything to do today so he decided to lay on the bed while you got ready. Walking out of your master bathroom, your makeup and hair done. Walking over to the outfit you laid out earlier for tonight. A simple black skater skirt and a lacy navy bralette. Jack was busy scrolling through Instagram on his phone he didn’t notice you adjusting your bralette in the mirror, or you putting on some gold jewelry. Jack always said gold was your color, he said it made you look hot espically the thick gold chain he got you for your birthday a few months ago to replace the cheap one from target he broke by pulling too hard one night.

“Okay how do I look?” you asked, casually doing a little twirl to show your boyfriend.

“Fuck your beautiful” he whispered, you’re not even sure if you were meant to hear it. Either way his words still left a pink blush on your cheeks.

“T’ank you” you mumbled shyly. Before you could ask him what shoes he thought looked better with your outfit. He let his eyes rank your body again and then again as if it was a double take to make sure his eyes weren’t lying to him.

“Baby, your skirt suppose to be that high up.”

“Yeah, the skirt is suppose to be this short.” You answer, Jack starts slowly approaching you and suddenly you’re looking at yourself in the mirror debating your outfit for tonight. “Why does it not look good?” Your voice skeptical as if you no longer were confident. Suddenly Jacks behind you now, his hands resting on your exposed upper thighs, barely pushing the skirt up.

“No you look fucking beautiful baby. But I’m not letting you leave in that.”

“Jack” you sigh.

“Not unless you let me come with you cause you know I don’t trust others.” He argues.

All you do is look at him through the mirror. Both of you are in a silent argument but neither of you are speaking just your eyes are. You are begging for him to trust you and he telling you no fucking way.

“Baby you know I’d choose the bear for our hypothetical daughter to be in the woods with not a man. What makes you think I’d let you be in a bar, looking this fucking hot, with a skirt that barely covers your ass with drunk men? Fuck no” he reasons but your mind is lost on the fact he even knows about that trend from months ago on TikTok.

“Jacky how do you know about that trend?” Not even bothering addressing the skirt or going out anymore. Your mind now stuck on how your precious boyfriend who didn’t wanna watch Barbie or Oppenheimer when they came out this summer. Or the fact he didn’t know the “how often do you think about the Roman Empire?” trend know about the “who would you feel safer in the woods with?”

“I have social media Y/N I just play dumb because it’s more interesting and the interns are less likely to bother me if I don’t give them good content.” He admits. “But my point still stands you are either changing or im coming with you.”

“Fine. I’ll change.” You sigh sulking back to your closet.

[chiikasevennn]

(this has topics of murder and yandere.....and stuff PLS DELETE IF URE NOT COMFY IM SORRY HUHUHU)

haia omg i have no idea if you're still open or no but i really like whenever writers dive into the more darker aspects of a character or how especially when a process of basically ascending to something what you would consider non human (monarch in this case) and how this affects a character like does this make them less humane or posssiblllyy twist their morals??

like as we can see with jinwoo his morals is err well yeah there but we can see times where he is willing to commit crimes if the time calls it (often the system forcing him to it) but like what happens when he finally swallows the system as a whole?? LIKE since now there is no third party to force him to do murder or what not will his way of thinking change too? like i imagine when he first murdered the guys in the cave very early on in the series you think that maybe he thought that it wasn't that bad..??

I can honestly see it more if it was another scenario and we add in the aspect of the reader or I'll call [name] whwhw.. I feel like Jinwoo is the type to actually lose his sense of humanity just for the sake of [name] or keeping them safe like the two probably was close but had to separate in their own ways but when they meet again [name] can barely recognzie Jinwoo and i dont mean physically or what not it's more like he lost his warmth and seems more... unsettling.. like do you know the feeling of watching those analogue horror or watching anything eerie and you get that feeling that somethings off in a scene that seems normal but you know something is OFF. yeah i feel like that's what [name] would feel ✊.

I just wanna hear your opinion on a more screwed up Jinwoo because as muchhh as i love the fluffy cutie jinwoo i also love delving into the topics of jinwoo just going batshit insane 🤯🙏

-🌟🎀

ABSOLUTELY!

Jinwoo x Reader

Your wish is my command, pookie bear.

Warning(s): YANDERE, nothing much, maybe too short? Not a fic or oneshot lol js my crazy thoughts

Also guys ples comment and say something ...

^⁠_⁠^

Jinwoo himself was already prepared to walk through fire just for his family, and that was just platonic love. Imagine how insane he'd be for a significant other that he loves way too deeply.

Hello???? Like I feel his dedication and love for darling would be higher than the heavens especially if they're already there for him during his lowest part in life.

My hunch is he's a chill yandere; he adores you and wouldn't pull any outrageously crazy stunts directly at you. Instead, he might convey lessons through various means, like allowing uncomfortable scenarios to set up, then emerging from the shadows he casted beneath your silhouette to rescue you.

Like a "savior" yandere. Your knight and sole protector.

He'd be more possessive ig if his crazy fans found out about you, particularly if they desire him to be romantically involved with Hae-In in the name of being a power couple. Jinwoo literally and genuinely didn't give a damn when they trash-talked him.

But hey, fans can be krezi

ALSO HELLO LIKE WHAT IF THOSE CRAZY ASSHOLES START HARASSING YOU ON WORK OR IN SOCIAL MEDIA (like leaving you death threats or rudely demanding you to break up w him bc apparently according to them, you don't deserve him)? Lol he'd be willing to do something about them, so good luck reasoning against him if you don't want bloodshed!!!

He'd convince you to not work anymore if that was in store for you.

"... Woo, you know I can't just quit work like that and have you become the breadwinner for the two of us. You're getting financially better and I'm proud, but I can't jus—"

"Shh," He'd tenderly cup your cheeks with his eyes overflowing with love and concern, every bit of his attention dedicated to you. "Is it so bad for me to want no dangers coming to you?"

"You're also being unintentionally put into unavoidable situations whenever you're in public. Love, you remember what happened last time, right?" He'd add. With a kiss on your forehead, he said, "I'll provide for you, you don't have to work. I can't stand how they're looking at you."

Jinwoo would mumble the final words gently before pulling back. He'd whisper them solely for your ears, aware that you wouldn't interpret that knowledge negatively anymore—it would now simply reflect his worry for your welfare and highlight his character as the tender and loving partner he was.⁠ ♡

[cussima]

discipline is easy once you know what you want

im going to be so honest with all of you right now: discipline is easy when you're being disciplined to get something you want.

i always thought i was lazy and undisciplined, but i simply didn't know what i wanted thus i had no want/desire to get anywhere.

defining what i want to be like, who i want to be, how i want my life to feel is what gifted me discipline.

• Once I decided I wanted to be athletic and energetic working out every day became something i looked forward to

• Once i decided i wanted to be eloquent and perceive myself as intelligent reading, studying, learning became so fun. I barely use social media anymore because I'd rather be spending my own time in things i enjoy rather than scrolling and waiting for something fun to show up on my fyp !!

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ i ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

author's note: i wont take tags for this im sorry 😭 also, i changed the faceclaim

masterlist.

The room is dimly lit. You didn't like dim lighting. It reminds you of your childhood bedroom. A barely functioning lightbulb hanging on the ceiling, your mother never bothering to change it. You were too short to change it yourself. You asked your neighbor once to do it for you but he had asked for a night with you in exchange so you kicked him out of the house before he could change the light bulb. You chose to study under the sucky light which became the reason behind your poor eyesight today.

You sit on a chair across Atty. Kim Jin Hwang, HAN entertainment's legal representative and one of the best lawyers Seoul has to offer, with a table dividing the two of you. He’s a man in his fifties, quite close to the age of retirement. He’s a veteran and despite his age, his mind is still sharp. 

You refrain yourself from tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. Anxiety does not look good on you and you refuse to show people that you're anxious. Anxiety is weakness so you keep your posture straight and make sure to keep eye contact with Atty. Kim. If you look away first, you're a coward.

“Tell me honestly. Is this you in the pictures?” Atty. Kim Jin Hwang points at the pictures sprawled across the table. They’re blurry and grainy and incredibly zoomed in. You can't even tell it was you from some angles. You look quite different from the person that you were when you were sixteen. HAN Entertainment is particularly fond of investing in their idol’s plastic surgeries and while they only fixed your crooked teeth, removed the hump on your nose bridge, altered your uneven ears, bleached your skin, and plucked your brows—which are quite minor changes—you still hold very little resemblance to the teenage you. 

You grew up well. Thankfully, you inherited only the best parts of your parents. Or at least, the best parts of your Mom. You have no idea what your father looked like, only knowing that he was from Brazil or some country in South America.

“Yes,” you answer immediately, not bothering to lie. What is the point of lying anyway? People have been calling you all sorts of malicious names across different social media platforms and you’re sure Atty. Kim has seen some of them. There’s no point lying to his face and saving your image anymore. Might as well admit that you are exactly the kind of person they’ve been yapping about. An illegal driver. A criminal. 

“Why did you do it?” Atty. Kim asks and truthfully, you did not expect the question. You expected the what and how and where and when but never the why question. You fall into a thoughtful pause.

“I was sixteen,” you shrug your shoulders, almost uncaringly so. “I wanted to leave home as early as I could and to do that, I needed money. Nobody wanted to accept student part-timers and I tried doing stuff like tutoring and doing other people’s assignments but it wasn't enough. I have a friend who joins street races. He’s not a good driver but he’s got a good car. He really wants to win so he cheated and let me drive his car on the condition that if I win, he’ll split me the winner’s money. I did it. I won races in that car, acting as if he was the one driving it.”

Atty. Kim gives you a long look. You don’t know what it means. 

“Alright,” Atty. Kimlifts his chin and rises from his chair. “That concludes our meeting. In the meantime, you lay low. We’ll handle everything.”

You nod, “Okay.”

True to Atty. Kim’s words, HAN entertainment handled everything. They released a statement that you watched one race because you were sixteen and clueless and didn't know you were getting yourself involved in an illegal activity. It helped that you drove under a different name so people were easily convinced of this lie. You knew your friend—the owner of the car— wouldn't even reveal that it was you who’d driven the car. His ego would be bruised once the people discovered that he cheated on the street races and a sixteen-year-old girl with no license and no personal car outperformed him. 

Additionally, HAN announced that you were to depart your group—ORACLE—which absolutely destroyed you because ORACLE had been the place where you felt like you belonged. ORACLE had been your goal. You worked yourself to the bone to the point of collapse because you wanted to be in ORACLE and wanted to remain in ORACLE.

Nevertheless, you accepted your fate easily. There was no point destroying the other members because of your fault alone. 

Your members cried for a whole week after the announcement was made public through HAN Entertainment’s official social media platforms and you spent every single day you could still spend inside the dorm reassuring them, telling them that you’d still be there for them, that you’d be standing behind them in each step to their success. You loved your girls so much. You wouldn't even choose to leave them. If only fate was a bit kinder to you. If only life was less brutal.

Furthermore, HAN made you publish a handwritten apology letter. You couldn't remember what you wrote anymore but you did remember how heavy the pen felt, how your hands trembled as you wrote each sentence, how writing the damn letter took three hours because you kept breaking down midway. They announced your hiatus promptly after. They used the term indefinite hiatus but it might as well be retirement.

You can't believe that you suffered through sixteen years under the same roof as your incredibly abusive mother, left home with only a backpack and a paper bag of cash just as you hit eighteen years old, worked your way in the harsh world by juggling three part-time jobs and a scholarship-shouldered university education until a scout noticed you, undergone the rigorous and borderline suicidal training of a KPop idol to-be, and sacrificed everything you had—mental stability, blood, sweat, and tears—just so you could pass every monthly evaluation and become your company’s darling, only to have everything disappear because someone found pictures of you predebut in an illegal street racing event. Fuck. 

You were fucking sixteen at that time! You didn't know any better. You only wanted money. You didn't have a license. Getting one is too expensive. You borrowed a car from a friend. It's an unregistered car. You drove the car. You won races. You stopped when you turned eighteen. That was it. 

Knetz decided to crucify you for a sin born out of your desperation when you were sixteen. When a dog was hungry, it ate whatever was thrown its way, uncaring if the food thrown at it was good or not because its primary instinct was only to cure its hunger. It was not as if you sexually assaulted someone. It was not as if you bullied someone and involved yourself in school violence. It was not as if you drank alcohol and drove or even involved yourself in gambling. Sure, street racing was illegal but you never even hurt someone! You never even crashed into someone mid-race.

You’re sure you’re going to leave the company and you won't fight their decision if they want you to do so. People spit out their gum when they lose their flavor. That's also what the industry did. You saw it happen too many times to too many idols. They collect pretty faces, push them to their limits until they could be loved by the public and once the public decides they’re not worth loving anymore, they’d spit them out. You are a gum in this story.

You feel like you’re eighteen again. You want to run away from home all over again. You ran away from the house you were born in once and now, you’re going to run away from the house you worked hard to live in. You want to pack your bags and board the next plane to another country even before the light of the rising sun touches the ground. That gnawing feeling of not belonging to a place that’s supposed to be home kept tormenting the cracks of your heart and the only way to seemingly get rid of it albeit only temporarily is to pick up on your feet and run away, never to leave anything behind you. Not ghosts, not traces, not memories—nothing.

But HAN entertainment won't let you. Yoon PD-nim knocked on your door, a contract in hand. He offered you an apartment to live in, a salary, a place in the company, and told you to keep creating songs. HAN Entertainment knew your talent in song making and producing was partly behind the success of ORACLE, their rising girl group. You were too useful to get rid of easily. 

And like that, you spent the last two years making music for every kpop group under HAN Entertainment. You mostly made B-sides for the junior girl groups, AURORA and PRIZMA, and the title tracks for boy groups, HIRA and 1THEBOY. You worked for soloist, Ciel, once for his last comeback before his mandatory military service and worked on half a mini-album’s worth of songs for ORACLE every comeback. Thankfully, the songs gained positive feedback from the general public. That was your ticket to keep staying in HAN entertainment as a ghost producer and ghost song-writer.

Two years. You rotted in your apartment and the studio. This felt no different than the time you lived under your parents’ roof. You felt like a ghost, present but also not quite there. It's quite fitting, you think. You're a ghost producer and a ghost song-writer. 

This was not a life worth living but you’d rather a life not worth living than have nothing at all. 

You empty your fifth cup of coffee for the day—an unhealthy brew of Americano with five shots of espresso—before standing up from the ergonomic chair where you’ve glued your ass on in the last two to three business hours. The demo for Sunset Paradise is almost finished. There are still a few parts that need major adjustments and refinement but you’re confident that you’ll be done by midnight.

Manager-nim enters the studio just as you reach the door. You jump, almost kicking the indoor potted plant inconveniently positioned near the door. The caffeine made you extra jumpy today. Once you get over your tiny shock, you bow your head in greeting. Manager-nim mirrors your actions.

“You're still working?” he asks.

“You're still bald?” 

Manager-nim rolls his eyes at you, smiling. You chuckle. 

Manager-nim, or rather, Song Dan, is ORACLE’s manager. He is a middle-aged man who only came up to your shoulders. He’s shaped like a square with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He treated you and the other members of ORACLE as if you were his daughters. 

“I’m going to go get coffee. You can sit here for a while,” you invite, gesturing to the tiny cream couch. You use your feet to nudge the potted plant and clear Manager-nim’s path.

“No coffee,” Manager-nim stops you, taking a seat. “That's enough coffee for you today. Sit down here. We need to talk.”

“You can't kick me out. I won't give you Ciel’s first post-military mini album and ORACLE’s summer title track if you do.”

Manager-nim’s eyebrows draw together, a vertical wrinkle appearing between them, “What? No. We're not kicking you out.”

Your shoulders sag, relieved.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single.”

At that, your entire body stiffens, eyes going wide as saucers. You let out a noise in disbelief.

“You're joking.”

Manager-nim’s face doesn't shift in the slightest.

“You're actually serious,” you rub your chin with your hand. 

What is Yoon PD-nim trying to pull now? Two years have passed since you’ve disappeared from the limelight. You're certain that you're not returning to the world of flashing lights and stage performance anymore and you’ve already accepted that your career has ended.

“Why?” your voice slightly wavers as you ask. Manager-nim sighs heavily, patting the vacant space beside him.

“Take a seat. We’re going to be talking for a while.”

The girl in the mirror stares back at you. She looks exhausted. She has deep bags underneath her eyes. Her shoulders are bony. They look like they're about to pierce through her pale skin. Her lips, which should be a nice shade of pink, are pale. Her eyes hold emptiness.

You pull your gaze away from your reflection and direct it to the bathroom sink, where a hair brush sits on the white tiles quietly. Fallen hair gathers up in its numerous sharp teeth. At this rate, you’re going to end up like Manager-nim—bald. 

You can't go bald. You have a weirdly shaped head.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single but before the release, he needs you to be in a PR relationship with someone.”

You hiss loudly, slapping a hand on your temple. God, you want to act like Manager-nim never said that. You don't want to remember it.

You? A PR relationship? With someone you don't know? How atrocious. You didn't even need to hear Manager-nim out until the end. You are out. You do not vibe with romantic relationships. They make your skin crawl.

“Listen, [Name]. This might be your only chance to come back again.”

“What if I don't want to come back again?”

“Then why are you still here? Why are you still making music? You're good at leaving so why didn't you?”

The public still terrifies you but you will never tell that to anyone. You can’t even go out and buy groceries without trembling. So many eyes. So many judging eyes. They're all waiting to destroy you again with their stupid eyes and stupid mouths with sharp teeth. A stupid PR relationship won't save you.

But what if it will?

You hold the edges of the sink and lean the majority of your weight against it. Your knuckles slowly turn white. Your knees feel weak. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

Why are you still here? A voice in your head asks.

I just want to be home. You reply.

Do it. This is your ticket to go home. It says.

You open your eyes and gaze into the mirror. 

Do you want to be home?

More than anything.

With a nod, you push yourself away from the sink and exit the bathroom.

Yoon Sang Hyuk, CEO of HAN Entertainment—the black marble desk name plate indicates; the text an intimidating shade of gold. The owner of the name sits behind the table, his legs crossed over the other. His face is sealed with a neutral expression. Suddenly, a satisfied smile works its way across his face and you swear the wrinkles that permeated his entire face doubled in amount.

“I knew you still had it in you,” he says calmly. “That's good.”

“Thank you,” you say, your tone coming out bland. 

“I’ll give you a manager and you are to leave for Singapore tomorrow.”

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Oh and [Name]?”

“Yes, Yoon PD-nim?”

“I know you're smart and you're hardworking and you're strong,” he begins. “I am confident you’ll do well so when you fly out there, don't be intimidated by any of them. You're as powerful as them. Remember the reason why you're there in the first place and do what you think is best.”

“You're putting a lot of trust in me,” you observe. 

It's questionable; the amount of trust he’s giving you. You already expected that Yoon PD-nim would send out an entire escort team just to make sure that you're not going to mess up again and get yourself involved in a PR nightmare incident. Who knows? Maybe someone will dig up pics of you copying homework from your seatmate in middle school and crucify you for being an academic cheater while you're out there holding hands with your fake boyfriend.

“I know you won't make the same mistake twice.”

You finally catch the underlying message behind his seemingly harmless words.

Focus on coming back and don't make another mistake. 

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Lando Kinder Norris,” you read the name on the folder, brows furrowing. That's a rather unique middle name. “British-Belgian. Born November 13, 1999—” 

It's good that your fake boyfriend and you were born in the same year. You're not very fond of age gaps.

“—in Bristol, England. Currently racing for McLaren. Car number 4. First entry is the Australian Grand Prix.”

Below is a series of long paragraphs detailing his racing history that you’re definitely not reading. Shoving the folder aside, you lean back into the seat and cross your arms over your chest. Your eyes flutter close. Jinnie, a HAN entertainment manager who looks like she’s half white and half Asian, gives you a judging look from her seat. 

“You should read it,” she advises.

“No,” you say.

“I spent hours compiling that information,” Jinnie frowns. 

“You compiled the wrong info,” you tell her, not even bothering to glance towards her. “Nobody will believe we’re real if I only know the things written in Wikipedia. You should have asked his PR team how he likes his coffee, if he prefers brunch dates or dinner dates, if he likes staying in or going out, if he likes the sunny weather or the rain, if he’d rather get food delivery or cook, if he’d like to hold hands and walk side by side or walk ahead of you so he can act like your guard dog. Those things.”

To be loved is to be known.

“You speak as if you have romantic experience.”

“Do poets have to experience the things they write poetry about?” you retort. “Immanuel Kant believed that everything depended on how individuals interpret and respond to his environment based on their personal opinions and feelings. I don't need to experience it to know.”

Recurring observations are your common source of knowledge. Reading is another.

And besides, this isn't your first PR relationship. You like to think that you know exactly what you're doing.

“Tell me something that's not written in the folder, Jinnie-ssi,” you open your eyes and tilt your head so you can lock eyes with her. “For example, why does a distinguished racer need a fake relationship? I can’t be the only one benefiting from this agreement.”

Jinnie purses her lips, “I don't know much.”

“But you know something,” you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. “Tell me.”

“There have been rumors that Lando Norris got a girl pregnant. The woman marched into Woking and demanded to see him. Apparently, he got her pregnant when they slept together in a bar,” Jinnie shakes her head. “It's a messy ordeal but McLaren recently proved that Lando wasn't the father. Too bad though, the public isn't believing them.” 

“And they think giving him a girlfriend would somehow make the public love him?”

“They need to show the world that their boy isn't an asshole,” Jinnie says. “That he’s a loving, loyal partner. That he isn't capable of committing fuckboy crimes because he has a girlfriend waiting for him at home.”

You snort. McLaren really decided that you’ll be the best girlfriend? How did they even know your existence? The KPop community and the F1 community are worlds far away from each other. It's easier for them to choose a supermodel, an American actress, or even a pop star. But no, they really decided that a washed-up KPop idol is a good girlfriend for their star boy. You can think of a few reasons why they chose you. 

“Are you sure he really isn't the father?” you ask. Companies can ignore morality for the sake of protecting their golden images. HAN Entertainment is no different. For all you know, you’re going to be fake dating an asshole who made a woman pregnant and refused to take responsibility. He’d be no different from your father who left your pregnant mother.

“Beats me.”

An hour later, the plane lands in the most expensive city in the world, Singapore.

You have three choices: a VAQUERA blue devil sweatshirt, Motel Rock chute trousers, and a Adidas forum low shoes combo, or a varsity baseball jacket, Bonbom rhee cargo pants, and a Curetty C round toe mary janes combo. You went with the varsity jacket-cargo pants-mary janes combo. You put on a bonnet to finish the look. When Jinnie enters the hotel room and sees what you're wearing, she immediately says:

“No. You're definitely not wearing that.”

“What's wrong with this?” you ask, looking down at your fit. This is what you usually wear. They're comfortable and acubi fashion is a trend nowadays. 

“You're a WAG now. Dress like it.”

Your eyebrow arches.

“WAG?”

“Wife and girlfriend,” Jinnie replies. Your confusion isn't absolved, not even the slightest. Your mouth pulls to the side.

“And how does this correlate to my fashion sense? Do race car drivers control their girlfriend’s fashion style?” you genuinely question.

“No,” Jinnie says. “But they’d prefer it if you dress in something befitting for a WAG, you know? Elegance? Classic timely looks?”

You put a finger up, “No.”

Jinnie huffs, “I’m not taking a no for an answer. Wear a satin dress. Wear cotton trousers and silk blouses. Look like you're from an old money family, not some hip hop dancer from the streets. You're no longer your own person, you are an extension of Lando Norris. You have to look a certain way, act a certain way, talk a certain way. Your goal is to make Lando Norris look good.”

You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek, annoyed. Your jaw is tense.

“And when Lando Norris looks good, you’ll look good. Good enough that the public will love you again to support your new song. Do you understand?”

She's right.

She's right.

You hate that she's right.

No matter how bitter the truth tastes, you are irrelevant and Lando Norris is your ticket to going back. In any other world, you will never ever allow yourself to become a jewelry for a man to wear. So you grit your teeth, keep the ugly prideful monster within you at bay, and clench your fists. You have nothing and when you have nothing, you need to be resourceful and make use of the people who have the things to push you to the top again.

You let out a sigh, “Jinnie, choose my outfit for me.”

Jinnie nods and leaves the room immediately.

It's three days before the Singapore FP1 2023. Jinnie drives you to meet Lando in his hotel. They organized a lunch gathering with you, Jinnie, Lando, and the other McLaren PR representatives who are responsible for this entire PR scam. 

You're wearing a Versace tweed cardigan and a boucle tweed skirt paired with high heel leather boots and Greca goddess large shoulder bag. All black in color. Jinnie is the one who styled your hair. She insisted on it actually, claiming that your beach waves hair isn't doing it. She flat ironed the hell out of your hair so now, it's straight as a pole. She also sprayed your bangs with strong hold hairspray to keep them in place.

The outside world is nothing but a blur of high-rise buildings and cement pavements as the car runs. You're picking on your nails. They're clean but bare of manicures. Your two pinky nails are a bit too short. You tried to stop yourself from biting them in the airport but you can’t resist.

Two years is a long time. A bit too long in your opinion. You don't remember the things you learned in your etiquette classes anymore—how to stand in the public, how to walk, how to pose in front of the cameras, how to smile, how to greet people, how to look completely in your element despite being anxious of having a thousand eyes staring at you, how to act as if you're not crumbling at the pressure of looking good for everyone. That's the only way they’ll love you. If you look good in their eyes.

“We’re here.”

You blink.

“Come again?”

Jinnie points outside the car window. The car stopped and you didn't notice.

“Sorry,” you mutter, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You let out a breath, roll your shoulders back, and push the door open. Your entire face relaxes and you smile politely at the valet when Jinnie hands him the keys of the car. You ignore the starstruck expression on his face as you gesture to Jinnie to lead the way, following after her but not before saying your thanks to the valet. You're polite. You're trained to be.

You keep your shoulders square and your walk confident as you enter the hotel lobby. There aren’t a lot of people inside. There's a family of four in a corner, a group of elderly people sitting in the waiting area, and a group of posh friends chatting near the front desk. You can see a few heads turning in your peripheral vision. You can't blame them. You can be stunning if you try to be.

Your heart begins to ram violently against your rib cage. A million butterflies infest your intestines. Your ankles feel like it’ll snap in half a few minutes later. Your mind chants: DID THEY NOTICE HOW SCARED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE HOW TERRIFIED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE? DID THEY?

You want your ball cap and your sunglasses and your face mask. You want to hide your face.

You have to control your breathing as subtly as you can but you continue walking as if you're the prettiest yet the most down-to-earth creature to ever grace the planet. You fix your hair again once Jinnie and you stop in front of the elevator. Jinnie presses a button and you wait. While waiting, you twist the sole of your boot against the floor. It's better than tapping it against the floor. The elevator dings and the two of you enter the empty box.

When the doors close, your knees give out. You slam your hands against the stainless steel walls to stop yourself from dropping to your knees on the floor. Jinnie’s hands wrap around your waist, supporting as you pull yourself up. Her face contorts in worry.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You nod quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you lay your palm against your chest, right above your drumming heart. “Thanks.”

You straighten up, tugging the hem of your Versace tweed outfit to smoothen the creases and fixing your hair again. You clear your throat. The elevator dings and the doors open. You step out and your mask slides in place. 

Jinnie leads you to a private dining hall. In the middle of a hall is a table occupied by five people wearing tacky orange-black polo shirts. You recognize one of them to be your fake boyfriend, Lando Norris. 

Jinnie had already shown you what he looked like in her tablet and a few printed pictures but the pictures didn't do him justice. He looks extra charming personally.

He's still not your type.

The entire group rises to a stand just as you and Jinnie reach the table. You give a ninety degree bow, hands flat on the collar of your top so you won't accidentally give the McLaren people a view of your chest. (It's not like they have something to see anyway. Your chest is flatter than a rice field.) The edges of your lips curl upwards in a polite smile. You see Lando, your supposed fake boyfriend, try to imitate the bow, although he doesn't go as deep as you did. Your head tilts slightly at his action. 

Jinnie is the first one who speaks, stretching a hand in front of her to shake hands with the McLaren team. She introduces herself in fluent English, “I’m Jinnie Jo of HAN Entertainment. It's a pleasure to meet you. This is [Name].”

They each introduce themselves one by one. Nicole, Greg, Kyla, and Louis. You try to memorize their faces and their names, drilling it into your brain so you won't forget. You're going to be working closely with them after all.

“Hi,” you greet them. You also shake hands with each of them. It feels weird, shaking hands as greetings. You are more accustomed to bowing. 

“Wow, Jinnie, your accent is good,” Kyla compliments your manager.

“Thank you,” Jinnie smiles pleasantly. “I was born in Chicago. English is my first language.”

“How about her? Does she speak English?” Louis inquires. He's giving you a funny look. You ignore it.

“She does,” you smile at him pleasantly. “I’m very fluent. You don't have to worry.”

Risha, the Canadian member of ORACLE, was the one who helped you master English. You even have a Canadian accent when you speak English because of her. Additionally, you also took language classes when you were a trainee—Japanese, Chinese, English, and you even requested Portuguese, Spanish, French, and Korean sign language. You dabbled a bit on Tagalog, too, because you know how large the ORACLE fanbase is in the Philippines. You continued taking the classes up even after debut, even after all the members of the group had stopped, because you wanted to master the languages for the fans, to be able to hold conversations with them, to connect with them. You only stopped going to the classes after leaving the group two years ago. It's nice to see that your English skills are still in perfect shape.

“Please take a seat,” Nicole invites. You and Jinnie sit down. You place your bag on the empty chair beside you and when you pull your gaze up, you coincidentally meet Lando’s eyes. They're blue and green with flecks of hazel dusted in the middle. It's the first time you've seen someone with eyes wielding three different colors. They're stunning.

You smile at him. He smiles back and then averts his gaze. You turn to Nicole, who’s sitting beside you.

“Now,” she says, putting two folders on the table. She slides them towards you and Jinnie. Jinnie picks them up. You don't. Instead, you stare at them. 

“What are these?” you question, slowly bringing your eyes up and meeting Nicole’s gaze.

“Contracts,” she answers.

“Contracts?” you echo, picking the folder up and opening it. You take your sweet time reading from top to bottom, tilting your head a bit to the side.

“You don't have to read it all. It's all just formalities. Just sign it,” Louis inputs. “Reading can be hard for you since it's not your first language—”

“I read just fine,” you interrupt, not glancing up as your eyes thoughtfully scan through the words printed on the paper. “Thank you for the concern but this is a contract that involves me and my future. I wish to know what I’m agreeing to.”

Louis wisely keeps his mouth shut. You put your hand on your mouth so you can discreetly smirk.

When you finish reading, you slowly set the folder back on the table. You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you tap your finger on the wooden surface of the table. 

“This is unfairly written, don't you agree?” you ask. “You're putting rather lots of demands on me but so little on him.”

From beside you, Jinnie thins her lips. You know she's also thinking the same thing. Fucking HAN Entertainment. They didn't even make sure that the contents of the contracts are not disadvantageous towards you. You are disappointed but not surprised. They really just sent you to be devoured by wolves and demanded you to not make a mistake.

McLaren also thinks they can just choose a washed-up KPop idol to cosplay as their golden boy’s trophy girlfriend and make her do all their demands with little benefits and zero complaint. They deliberately chose someone who still holds popularity but little power. Someone who needs them as badly as they need her. They chose you.

Assholes. The two of them.

“What do you want him to do anyway?” Louis sneers. His face is beginning to look a little too annoying. “He's busy building his career. All you have to do is support him and make sure everyone knows it because you have none. That's all. Or is that a little hard for you?”

Louis is getting this all wrong. Jinnie told you that you're going to fix his reputation for him so his career wouldn't be ruined. In exchange, he gives you publicity so you could bring your career back from ruination. This is not a parasitic relationship where only their side gets the benefits. How could you even work on that comeback of yours if you're going to be glued by his side? 

Your jaw ticks with restraint yet you choose to smile, “He’s not the only one building his career.”

You pick up the folder and toss it to Jinnie, who catches it skillfully. 

“Throw that away. We're flying home. I don't need a PR relationship to promote my single that much.”

Satisfaction fills you when their faces grow alarmed. 

Ha.

“Wait,” Kyla stands and she shoots a dirty glance towards Louis. Your eyebrows scrunch a little. “The contracts are open to revisions.”

You clap your hands together, smiling widely.

“Perfect. Jinnie, hand me a pen.”

The team leaves you and Lando alone in the hall to eat, to give you both a chance to get to know each other. 

You allow your eyes to scan the hall. It has a bright spacious ambiance. The windows are stretched from the floor to the ceiling, allowing as much natural light inside. Singapore looks absolutely breathtaking down below. The flooring is made out of natural pine and a crystal chandelier hangs atop the table where you and Lando ate. You keep thinking: what if it'll fall? You shake the thought out of your head and put a fork full of pasta into your mouth.

“Is the pasta good?” Lando asks. You nod, humming and smiling. You don't like it one bit. You're also mildly allergic to shellfish. You're definitely going to get a bad case of rash later. You hope Jinnie is prepared with a medicine kit. You forgot to bring yours.

You wipe your mouth with your table napkin, announcing, “I’m full.”

You have only eaten half the plate.

“Oh you have a…” Lando points at the corner of his lips. You wipe the same area in your face. “No, the other side.”

You wipe the other side, “Is it gone?”

“Allow me,” he says, standing up from his chair and leaning across the table to thumb the stain. 

“Is it gone?” you ask again. Lando nods.

“Yeah, it is.”

He goes back to his seat.

“Thank you,” you smile. “You're already doing great with the whole fake boyfriend act.”

A flustered smile splits Lando’s face, shaking his head.

“I try.”

“By the way,” you begin, leaning a little forward. “Did they also give you a folder with my information?”

Lando nods, “Yeah.”

“Did they also suck?”

He purses his lips.

“Well….” he drawls.

“You can tell me if it sucks. The one my manager gave me looks like it's copy-pasted from Wikipedia.”

Lando chuckles. 

“I mean, your biography is very…detailed? Too detailed, I think. I didn't remember most of them, sorry. I only remember a few of them. Like your birthday. January 1, 2000.”

“1999.”

“Pardon?”

You wave your hand in a theatrical flourish, “I was born in 1999. The company manipulated my public information.”

Lando’s brows raise in surprise.

“They do that?”

“You’ll be surprised,” you lean back into your chair.

“But why?”

“So every member in ORACLE can be born in 2000. I don't know,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“That seems like an unnecessary change.”

“It is,” you agree. “But HAN wants everything to be perfect. They see a flaw. They fix it to their liking immediately.”

“What are the other things that are a scam in your biography?”

“Scam is a big word,” you tell him, amused. “But I’ll tell you. In exchange, tell me about yourself. Not the info I can read in Wikipedia. In order to make this work, I have to know you.”

To be loved is to be known.

“Alright,” Lando says. “We can take turns asking each other questions.”

“Cool,” you bring a glass of water towards your lips, taking a sip. “I’ll start. How do you like your coffee?”

[vxn3lla]

On doubts and “lying to yourself” and living through electronic devices 

( I start I will say I barely use my phone or laptop anymore didnt touch it for three days straight and it really helped me focus on myself, self concept, and manifesting I think this is my longest post lol using electronics to "help" manifest is fine as long as you are fulfilling yourself in the 4d)

You may have been affirming for a long time, with good self concept….so where are your results? Maybe deep down you feel like you are lying to yourself, giving yourself the option “my manifestation might not come to fruition”

NO NO NO

ALL YOUR DESIRES ARE GUARANTEED TO COME TO FRUITION

Stop preventing yourself from achieving your manifestations because you make it an option

IT IS INEVITABLE

Why do I feel like I’m lying to myself?

You’re living in the 3d live in the 4d…dwelling in the 4d as it is the true reality

If inner world is the 4d, outer world is the 3d…I personally think of online media as the 2d. Now yes there are educational resources and ways to make money online but if youre living through the social media posts of others…thats even further than YOUR inner world

“Im just using it as a vision board to manifest”

First of all you dont need that to manifest…you dont need anything to manifest

Second of all (excuse my language) WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU “VISUALIZING” WITH IMAGES IF OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR LIVES WHEN THINGS MANIFEST FROM THE 4D

Then YOU go and whine “all these people have ____” and I really want it but instead of changing things you continue the cycle of doomscrolling and complaining because your desire is unfulfilled.

Why is it unfulfilled?

Because you are assuming it is, because you aren’t assuming that you getting your desires is guaranteed that they are inevitably going to be fulfilled

Change that (I wont tell you how as that depends person to person)

[marunalu]

Hey guys

I need to make a quick update of my whereabouts and why I havent answered any asks or messages lately. But first, I want to apologiese to everyone who worried about me. It wasnt my intention to make you worry, the last few weeks (months actually) were just quite stressfull for me and Im barely online anymore. I want you to know that you guys dont need to worry and Im really sorry if you did. Life is just quite difficult for me in the moment. I bother with some health issus right now (its NOT life threatening though!) both physical and mental and I have to take a few meds every day. These meds make me very tired and unmotivated to do anything Im not forced to do. I also had a lot of doctor appointments in the last few weeks and need to visit my doctor regulary. Again, its nothing life threatening but it tires me out and I dont feel very well in the moment. Most of the time I just want to be left alone so I can rest. Plus my private life is also quite messy right now and that doesnt help to increase my health. Since my health issues also have mental consequences I decided to stay away from any social media as much as possible, because the internet can be a toxic and stressful enviroment and I have realized that I feel worse if I lure to much on social media sites. I even try to avoid world news because they make me feel depressed. Even writing this short post is difficult for me, because I dont want to think or talk about my problems.

So again, Im very VERY sorry that I worried you guys, but it also warms my heart to see how many of you asked about my whereabouts and if Im okay! Thats so very sweet of you all! ❤️ And just a quick comment about mha. Im not lying to you, but right now Im not really invested in it anymore. The manga turned into a big dissapointment for me and I pretty much lost all my interest in it. I will still check out the last chapter and Im still positive about dfo to be revealed in the last chapter. But I already mentioned in the past that I dont think anymore that dfo will have an satisfying conclusion. It would be hilarious if it turns out the afo clone theory is indeed true though, because I was JOKING when I came up with it! I think its possible that hori will not confirm the theory right out, but just give very strong clues and hints like giving us a glimpse of the holes in hisashis hands. I heard, in a recent interview hori mentioned that he likes to leave things vague so people can come up with their own interpretations and conclusions, which I cant say is a smart move. Still, Im positive about dfo. I will eventually drop a post about the last chapter and talk about dfo if it turns out canon!

You are still welcome to send me asks but it will take me time to answer them. Im also not sure what I will do with this blog when mha is done, since its a mha/dfo centered blog. Eventually I just start a new one at one point.

A lot of hugs to you guys and see ya 🥰

[p1xiemeat]

Trigger Warning: Rare Illness/Health Issues [wasn't sure if this need a tw but these topics make some ppl uncomfy so i wanted to be considerate anyway💜]

so a lot of ppl have been asking me why i don't post pics anymore or why i have barely been on social media compared to how i used to be. and the reason is i've been having severe health issues for a very long time. i can't even remember the last time i went more than a month without feeling nauseous, or actually throwing up, or just having headaches and stomach pain that are so bad i can barely tolerate them.

i've known for a while that i have gastritis, but my mom & my bf convinced me to go to a new doctor for a second opinion. after months & months of pure agony and feeling exhausted and sick to the point where i have no energy, i finally know why. i went to a specialist and discovered i have a rare illness called CVS (Cyclic vomiting syndrome). and i also am lactose intolerant which was amplifying my symptoms because i eat dairy products constantly.

i am going to be starting treatment for it and i really hope it improves my life and my ability to function because i am so tired of "living" like this. just existing has been exhausting and painful. i literally haven't been able to accomplish any of the goals i have because i can't go more than a few days without feeling horrible.

i already feel useless because i'm autistic and i have bipolar 1 and i'm waiting on disability payments to come through because i am unable to work with my disabilities. so my bf has been working and doing his best to take care of me and our kids. i just feel so horrible and guilty all the time. and i genuinely didn't know why i feel sick 24/7. all i want is to feel like myself again. and to do all the things i miss doing. i feel like i'm trapped by this illness.

i'm grateful to have answers and know what i'm dealing with finally. but after suffering like this almost every single day for so long its so hard to feel hopeful for the future at this point. i'm literally in tears as i type this. its just been really bad. i never do my makeup anymore or feel good about myself. i can barely move sometimes because the pain in my stomach is so bad or i get pain in my throat from vomiting for hours at a time, and then i get MORE pain from dry heaving due to not being able to hold down any food. and then i get random migraines and headaches that last all day as a result of all of that. its taking a huge toll on my body and my mental health. my depression gets worse during the winter season so when this started getting really bad it just made my mental health a million times worse. its literal hell.

but yeah thats why i haven't been online. real life is hard enough and i haven't been motivated to post because of the hell i'm going through or a lot of the time i physically CAN'T make content. but i'm going to keep trying. i'm going to do every fucking thing my doctors tell me to do because im so fed up with suffering. i promise that i will make content again and post the things i create and other stuff i used to post about before i stopped being able to function. as soon as i start to feel semi normal or at least well enough to do daily activities and complete even small goals, i will post about it. i'll keep u guys updated.

i appreciate every single person who follows me and my content, and all the ppl who keep checking up on me and wondering where the fuck i went. i love you guys so much💜 and i'm so sorry to all the ppl who haven't heard from me. if i can gain at least a little bit of my physical strength and health back, i will be so happy. i also am trying to get vitamins prescribed to me because im severely lacking nutrients but they are so expensive and i can't afford them out of pocket until i get my disability money. i'm also anemic and have to start taking iron supplements again. i'm just a giant ball of health issues😭 its actually ridiculous how bad my health has been. but i'm a mom and for that reason i will never stop trying. i will do whatever it takes to get better. i don't think my health could get much worse than it is currently. hopefully i didn't just jinx myself by saying that😭

sorry for the super long explanation, i just have sooo many messages in my inbox and questions that you guys send me that i haven't answered. i don't want to leave u in the dark. the connections i've made on this silly little blog mean the world to me. and everything i've been going through has been so hard to explain. but since i recently got a REAL answer as to why i'm suffering so much, i felt it was a good time to let you guys know what is going on with me. like i said, when i am able to feel somewhat normal again i will post consistently and re-open my shop too! it sucks so bad having a passion for creating but being too sick to even get out of bed other than to get sick in the bathroom. i've been to the emergency room more times this month than i have in the last 4 years. if i can overcome this awfulness i will not take it for granted. i will work harder than i ever have to create and share it with the world. but for now i just have to sit back and do whatever my doctors tell me to do and hope to god that it helps me 😞

[babyyweebbitch]

Can i request Vi (Arcane) x overworked female reader?

I go to two schools (one is a music school)

Both schools give a huge amount of homework, the piano teacher is very demanding, I have a piano exam soon (which I don't know if I'll take because I can't remember so many given musical notes) and I also have my high school. I think I'll drop out of one of the schools for my own sanity.

I’m a crying, stressed out and simply tired mess and i feel like i’m losing control. The worst feeling ever🥲

Hug me please 😫

omg baby i’m so sorry! :( that’s a shit ton of stress and honestly i feel u with the stress! im currently very stressed out too and i hope things get better for u :) HERES A HUG

content warning : female reader , crying , stress

you were a collage student, currently in your second year of collage plus you also had a good paying job you worked at after school. the schedule was you go to school and mid day you left to go to work. that’s how it’s been since you got this job three years ago. recently there was an exam happening and you had to study during your breaks at work.

you recently got a new boss who has been an absolute asshole to you and a few other people and they’ve been working you like a dog. they changed your hours so you had to go home later leaving you barely any time to study and sleep. now your schedule was all fucked up… Vi noticed and has tried to help you but you always say you got it and that you didn’t need any help. she didn’t buy it honestly

it was getting closer and closer to exams and everything was getting to be too much. during one of your days off from work you studied all morning and part of the afternoon at your desk in yours and Vi’s shared room. she was sitting on the bed with her headphones in scrolling through social media. your phone vibrated and you glanced at it… it was your boss

‘i need you to come in for work today, in about 20 minutes please’ the text read. you don’t know why but reading that made you tear up, you started crying… no, sobbing. you placed your head on your desk and sobbed. vi moved her phone a bit to check on you and saw you sobbing at your desk. she immediately jumped up

“baby?! baby, what’s wrong?!” she asked, going over to you. she rubbed your back and you reached over to hug her, very tightly and just cried into her shoulder. she rubbed you back and she picked you up, carrying you to the bed “cupcake…”

“t…this is too much! vi…. i ca…i cant!” you said through cries. you gripped onto her shirt, she sushed you and held onto you

“i know…. i know — it’s alot…” she said in a soft voice, holding you until you were calmed down. after you calmed down you sat up and looked around “why don’t you take a b—“

“i gotta go to work! fuck!” you said, trying to stand up to get ready but she grabbed your arm. you looked at her and she tilted her head to the side. without saying a word you knew what she was trying to say “Vi i can’t”

“please…. you have too, it’s not good on your body”

“they will fire me…”

“fuck ‘em…. baby, if you take on anymore stress it will cause damage to your body. you’re already getting headaches and i can tell your hands are sore”

“how did you know about the headaches…”

“i saw the three bottles of Tylenol in the garbage when i went to take it out this morning”

you sighed and sat back down on the bed. you looked down

“and taking that much is gonna fuck up your body too”

“what do i tell them…”

“quit… find a new job — i’ll start charging more for my fights until you’re done for the summer”

“but the apartment…”

“we both have enough money to pay for it, plus the fights — i get alot for them. baby we will be fine for a few months” she said “i’ll even text ‘em for you!” she said, going to get your phone and unlocking it. she started typing away at your phone and you realised you’re trusting Vi to text your soon to be ex-boss

“please don’t be mean…”

she paused for a second…. then you heard her erasing the message

“Vi!”

“what?! you’re trusting me to do this for you!” she said in a joking tone. you laughed before snatching the phone from her and typing away. she placed her head on your shoulder to see what you were typing as you did. once you were done you placed your phone down and vi smiled. she stood up and started to get you clean clothes and went to the bathroom. you got up to follow her and see what she was doing — especially with your clothes

“whatcha doing?”

“starting a bath — for you! you deserve it” she said, starting to run a bath for you. she did everything the way you liked it and was surprised she got everything right, she’s only ever watched you do it so she decided to try. she helped you undress and get into the bath. she started helping you get clean and she hummed as she did.

the entire time you didn’t talk but the silence between you two was very calming to the both of you.

this isn’t the best but i hope u like it :)

[electricpurrs]

i kinda hate everybody in the world and i havent been able to shake that feeling off for a really long time. its really hard to have any kind of faith in the kindness of humanity when the majority of human interaction i ever witness is cruelty. im always so angry and so upset. online and offline. i feel like hurting other people, or myself. i can barely muster kindness or liking to anybody. even people i know, acquaintances, friends. i get angry. i get upset. i get annoyed. it makes me want to give up. never talk to anyone anymore. delete all my social media. live in some kind of isolation because dealing with people isnt worth it. but maybe that makes me just as bad a person as i perceive others to be. i feel like a bad friend. maybe everybody is a bad person. maybe theres no point in any of this. and its hard for me to think otherwise. ive been so angry

[starscreamerfan]

This was originally shared to the Transformers discord Im apart of but its so amazing fucking weird i decided to share ENJOY THE FREE NIGHTMARES!!

"Just jolted awake from deeply troubling yet oddly calm nightmare and i must share this abomination with you, so it started off with a spooky little island that was just a victorian house and rock (already sus) but under the house was a decepitcon slave mine where the Vehicons like shared the work with captured human slaves and G1 extra autobots (a bunch of no name background charaters) mining some shit (idk what) but then BAM! the dream jumps and I'm watching a small group of army dudes and a couple of autobot (Jazz, Prowl, Ratchet and it was either Prime or Ironhide tbh i said who and the nightmare said yes it could have been both) going to investigate the little island which is now super dark and spookily abandoned and they all go down into the mine and start seeing weird ass shit that looks like a meat bee nest (that disgusting rotten flesh hive I've seen float around social media) and then BAM HORRIBLE TRANSFORMERS/HUMAN/FLESH AMALGAMATION THATS LIKE 100% WORSE THEN ANYTHING RESIDENT EVIL, SILENT HILL OR DEAD SPACE COULD PUMP OUT and all the army humans get sucked in (cuz brain said fuck the canon fodder meat monster needs more meat) weird tentacles start dragging and melding with the poor nameless fools (like srsly they had no Business being there) and the autbots say FUCK THIS and run barely making it out and they lock that shit up faster then Blurr and take a fire lava baths to make sure they don't become some horrible fleshy nightmare horror monsters, que brain shoving in another time skip because dreams be like that, and some dumb ass human scientist person goes to the island and breaks into the mine (wearing a hazmat suit and a gas mask also dont ask i dont understand why they fine in just that its dream logic shit dont make any sense) and finds and a horrible optimus prime fusion meat mimic thing (but like its not the real OP like Daddy Optimus was safe) and the meat Optimus thing has become sentient and was somehow broke into pieces and was trying to rebuild its self slowly absorbing meat and forming it into a collective of different parts it remembered seeing (it was like meat optimus and several other autbots Frankenstein'd together) and so dumb ass cave diver science dude decides "I'm take it home and study it at my lab" and grabs the head which looks like a gross Meaty Optimus then i scene jump AGAIN to random Scientist dudes lab which it was a weird outdoor lab (no house in sight because brain didn't load anymore BG) in a giant tube science man had the mimic head and then he Proceeds to try to communicate with it, which seems to work (tho i couldn't hear what they were saying to each other) then the unholy flesh Optimus turns to face me where i was like floating watching everything go down passively the whole time being a third party watcher the this ungodly nightmare and it says in a SPOOKY FUCKING AMALGAMATED NIGHTMARE VOICE (WHICH I PHYSICALLY FUCKING HEARD!!)

W͕͕͎̭̜̰̘ͥ̂̈́ͣ͢ͅȦ̘̥͉̙̝͕͖͘K̵̲̩̟̣ͧ̓̂E̜̠͙̭ͮ͞ͅ ͔͖͙̤͕̞͎̯ͮ͌̀U̷̗̱̠ͧͦ̈́P͉̠͎̮̲͐̕

And i just jumped ten feet straight up in my bed and i swear i was having a heart attack and a panic attack all at the same timeIt was a definite "OH FUCK NO NO THANK YOU" moment"

(To those you i know on discord and here who saw this post on discord yes i did add more i noticed i missed some info at og time of posting that day and adding the missing bits maybe 20-30 mintues after the og discord post i was fucked up thinking about this hours after this nightmare ended)

[miiilowo]

i have been ""poisoned by social media activism"" because im using my platform to boost posts about a literal genocide? come fucking on man. sorry, but i do have the ability to do both watch the news and read articles while also boosting posts for people who spend all their time on tumblr and Dont read the news and may not have the chance to. And like, idk about you but every news channel and article i see is written by zionists and is from the israeli point of view. so i never get to see what is truly happening in gaza, and thats why tumblr and instagram posts are so important. and most posts about palestine are backed up by articles and firsthand evidence, which you'd know if you didnt have so many tags blocked. i mean, i dont spend all of my time on tumblr either. but i post about palestine when i get the chance. this is not something that you can take the stance of "im too busy to post about this" because you post about your favourite medias and random shit all the fucking time. if you have time to post about dean winchester you have time to post about the forced extinction of the people of palestine. you have 10K followers, man. the people of palestine have Asked Us, the people of the world, to share and spread as much as you can. the news does not cover palestine as much as it did anymore, my local radio station went from talking to the situation to completely stopping coverage of it recently. its extremely hard for me to find articles about gaza that arent written from a zionist point of view nowadays. once the media stops covering this genocide, the people of the world are the only hope that gaza has. and this is why i spread posts about gaza, even to my follower base of about 100 people. and you blocking tags because ""you know how to get news about the situation bettwr than the people on tumblr, the illiterate tumblr users who Never check sources and must Never read news articles and their brains are So poisoned by social media activism" as if we arent doing this because the palestinian people have called for our action directly

anon, i appreciate that youre being...slightly. kinder. in this one. i dont disagree with you wholly, but i don't think we're going to see eye to on this, and that's fine. doesnt mean you're a bad person, doesn't mean that i'm one either. you, however, are misunderstanding me, and also repeatedly refusing to acknowledge the fact that i do post about this issue. it may not be the focus of my blog, but i do post about it. i acknowledged in one of my earlier responses that i reblog the ones i see that have sources attached, which you are also conveniently ignoring in this one

i understand that posting about it is important, i do it when i can, but i also dont want to spread misinformation, and i literally do not have the resources to fact check this kinda shit a large portion of the time. My internet connection is so dogshit i can't load a webpage 80% of the time. right now is an exception. i live in an rv with 12 cats and i barely have enough money to get to school and back, let alone pay for high speed internet access, so thats a roadblock. i am not an activist. you are clearly more of an activist than i am, and youre focusing on it more. thats great ! we are not the same person.

spreading reliable information that i can actually trust is important to me, because i care about this issue, more than you likely realize.

i wasnt saying that people on tumblr never factcheck, but i dont have a way to confirm that they did at a cursory glance for half of this shit, and im not going to automatically assume that every single post about palestine was fact checked and refined. i am well aware that palestinian people want people to talk about it on social media. i do post about it. i understand your irritation but the shit youre accusing me of here is being blown out of proportion and i frankly dont want to try and argue with you anymore because i don't think this either of us are going to "win" and its just gonna drain both of us further. i put more effort into reblogging what i determine to be reliable information, you fuck off, stop assuming shit and we both agree to disagree. hows that sound

edit- moved my tags into the main post:

im not gonna pretend im an expert on the issue either. i dont want to reblog something and have it actually be damaging toward palestine because it flies over my head. its very possible that i could fuck up. and id much rather reblog information about whats happening that i KNOW is true, that ive personally looked into, rather than reblog something damaging because i dont fully understand it. i am just a guy. im going to make mistakes. im trying to avoid that. like you said, i have 10k followers.