#blocking people who annoy you is free and legal and you can do it whenever you want to you insecure pissbrain

[aromantic-diaries]

My favorite thing about running a somewhat popular aro (and often ace) blog is the assumptions that aphobes occasionally make about me as a person because they automatically projected some asexual strawman onto me as soon as they read my post. I hate to tell you but you know nothing about me

[danma-chan]

And the reasons I reblog with a long ass description is to clear my name from what has been accused by that person. If you know, you know there is somebody try to start make a drama. A type of person who demands problems and yet suddenly cutting people off whenever the person’s ass got busted LMAOOOO Imagine walking into the hall of shame when someone exposed how pathetic “victim complex” you are..Ouch…God still forgives your shit but from people..Hmm 😌 Anyways, if any of you are not going to any sides, that's cool, I have no right to stop you be friend with anyone but please do not hear from one-sided only. Everything is in the docx. You all are the judges 🤝

First and foremost, Bakugan fandom is literally fun, supportive and people are free to go crazy about their ships, love hard on your fav characters, making AUs, make fanarts, fanfics and more. I really love to see Bakugan is alive again and Im glad the fandom didnt die yet 🥰🥹

Unfortunately, not everything is sweet and joy until somebody being pressed over a character and anyone who is having interested with heterosexual ships. That’s a major toxic there especially with proudly represent “Fabia cannot have any dickss!!”, “God forbid she dont get to deserves be with ANY of the males!!” I would like to ask you. Who are you? If you hate the character, that is fine. LITERALLY FINE, you are allow too eventho you barely watch everything 🙄 but you don’t have to making it "You have to hate this character”, or “Whoever into straight ships are the worst people ever period" Let me ask you again, who the fuck are you to judges someone interests? Tell me some VALID points to hate Fabia's characteristic and liking straight ships?? If yes, then that makes Fabia’s lover and straight shippers real hypocrites lol If you’re telling me that you’re allow to hate something, I can do the same too but I dont depises based on people’s interests like you 😉😌 I believe nobody likes rude people who judges their own interests. I called it a joy-killer, just disgusting and ew..🤢 And what makes you more hypocrites that you try hard to blend in but ended up eating your own shit and hypocritically went “straight ships annoys me” in your feeds. Boy, if you don’t like it, then ignore and move on. You don’t need to spread the toxictivity in the fandom nor oppress others for liking their straight ships. Its giving MHA fans vibes lmao and its better to set as private on that multiple account of yours next time 😌

Second, you blocked me from the first place like okay xD?? Who are you again lol 😅 We barely talk in Discord yet talk bad things behind me at the public?? Ok?? It would be a lie if nobody informed me that my name got mentioned and then accused I’ve been standoffish to you like? 🤔 Because from what I analyse on what you accused from Aisha’s side, you apologized due you’re drunk but then, keep talk bad things about her bruh…Also, how can you tell that I have vaguepost about you specifically the fact that you blocked me? Hm curious..🤣 Better check the docx again. If you felt your ass burns from my posts, that’s your problem because I said in general and it can be anyone 🤷🏻‍♀️ I can say whatever in the internet too, Tumblr, Twitter etc as it’s also my personal spaces too 😂 Its how you read lol Said that I dont be straight to the point to you but how can I reach you if you blocked me?? I wonder who is the real pussy here…Even Aisha confronted you but you blocked her instead like a ahemm smol dick cough there 🤧 That would be pointless to me if I did the same too because you will keep coming back with the hate posts so obviously, me nor Aisha are not the problem 🙂Victimise yourself again? Having traumas as an excuses or what-so-ever is giving you a legal ticket to oppress others hm? Motives? I dont think is a right thing to do. Its pathetically immature🙄

To conclude, negative people love to stir up a lot of drama around them and that’s the kind of power they can get. They like the attention that they get from making people upset. Sounds accurate, yes? If the shoes fits.. Thats why people are distancing from you 😮‍💨 I’m passive aggressive? Check again in the docx. file given. I’m insufferable bitch? I get used to bite and eat venomous people as my basics. Strong immune ig LMAO And I also grateful and blessed because I surrounded myself with KIND people. No matter what and who they are either TERFs, Homophobes,Transphobe Bi etc (Except pedo,invader,rape apologist lol) If they’re kind to me, I will also be kind for them. Easy said 🥰 And my only wish for the small almost-dead fandom to be clean from negativity. I have been in a glory days and most people left because some immatures like your kind of person who dispises, bullying other people’s interests and preferences. Being a proud hater as hobbyani? Man, get real for real 🙄🙄

Lastly, from the docx. file. Hope you eat, suck and chew hard with your own words. May next time, be better for real and repent. Cheers 👍🏻

sharing this because this dude keeps slandering me and i'm tired of it

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh Ep 35 S4: Raphael Joins the Pile of Dead Bodies

Ah 2020, thankfully we have one trashfire somewhat behind us, but I’m still avoiding social media for so many obvious reasons because of all the other trashfires that just never seem to stop burning, so lets talk about Yugioh with all of this newfound time.

Ah, card games. Card games that go on for 6-7 episodes. Lets see how they pad it out:

In a lot of ways, Roland really is just padding for the show, and that’s OK. He’s doing his best, by doing literally nothing but stand outside and check the time.

Inside the dusty soul chamber, Tristan has decided to do us the favor of recapping what happened last episode, which included the return of our four dead friends, so that they could die...again.

Seto’s reaction to seeing these dead people suddenly alive again was very “guys...I went nuts like years ago, I’m just going with it at this point.” and he’s still 100% positive that this is all a hologram and that no one will ever die.

Whatever it takes for Seto to get out of bed in the morning, I guess.

(read more under the cut)

One of the big mechanics the game is that you need to stay level headed, or the Orichalcos just kind of slurps you up. This explains a little why Dartz is so freakin chill basically all of the time, just the Bob Ross of evil over there. It also is sort of funny because Pharaoh and Seto are the least chill people to have ever lived so he’s just kind of waiting it out to see whom between Seto and Kaiba gets the most angry first and completely botches it.

Yugi has to do literally nothing and for the first time in his life this is the right choice.

I’m so glad he gets to use his big brain move of “If I don’t play, no one dies!” from S1. Glad it came back to serve him for once instead of just make everyone else really annoyed.

Yugi just...not moving means it’s now Seto’s turn to put down some cards, and he kinda looks over at Pegasus and goes...well you know what’s gonna happen next.

I have no idea why he didn’t attack Pegasus. Like this episode is kind of weird because we got these flashbacks of Pegasus being like “you’re my only hope, Yugi!” and it’s like wtf, Pegasus trapped you on a murder island and tried to kill you multiple times. He abducted Mokuba and turned both the Kaiba brothers into cards.

yo did Seto and Pegasus get back together in between seasons or something? Was there a whole character development where these two have fun brunches in San Fransisco now? Because I would watch that anime. I would watch the anime where Seto and Pegasus are co-hosting Diners, Drive-ins and Dives, and just destroying every unsuspecting local restaurant they brunch in.

But are we just assuming that the eyeball did all that evil stuff from S1 and that otherwise Pegasus is a good person? Because like...he was a mess before he got possessed. He’s kind of a Yugi, he’s kind of a Bakura, he’s kind of a Marik...in that there’s a mess in that bean, and getting possesed just only amplified what was already there.

So, with his smug as hell grin, Seto surprises Dartz by only barely getting affected by this inescapable moral dilemma and Seto just very quickly deciding to do a murder. And then we get a little blimp throwback to S2 (S3? I don’t even remember at this point, since we’ve been stuck in S4 for an entire year. Thanks 2020.)

If blocking the shot when Marik did it in S3 or S2 or whenever that was, didn’t get Mai to like Joey, then it shouldn’t work if you do it a second time.

But hey, I guess it’s better than letting her perma-die. Although this show desperately needs to figure out how to use Mai if they’re gonna keep her around, youknow?

Like all ships are fine and valid here, ship whatever you want to your hearts content: I don’t ship at all, as you know, but I hope one day they give Mai a personality that is consistently likeable. I do want to like her because she’s like...good at what she does when she plays cards and can be that can be a fun “hey I’m a girl but I’m not a freakin ‘gamer girl’ you male chauvinist assholes” type of character. But, the show just...the show doesn’t know what they want outside of a little romantic tension that they legally can’t follow through because of a 5-6 year age gap with a teenager.

This show actively tries to destroy this ship, and then turns around and is like “oh shoot this ship is all we have.” This show tries to lift up Mai as a feminist icon one season, and then tears her down for being “too” feminist the next season when she decides to--youknow--kill Joey Wheeler because he made her feel weak or something when he saved her life. 

Like the show does a lot to explore weakness and strength, and how what we see as weakness is actually strength, and how what we tend to attribute as strengths is actually weakness, and how our modern career/school/success expectations set us up for failure, but I think they explored that way better with Seto than they ever did with Mai.

Could’ve been cool Mai, you could’ve been cool.

Anyhoo, that was my spicy commentary on a 10+ year old anime, good to get it off my chest.

Seto and Yami have the typical problem they have whenever they play cards together, where one goes completely rogue. Except this time, the one going rogue isn’t Seto, it’s Yami. He’s just like...I’ll make life for Seto very difficult and I will lose this game and I don’t even mind because I’m already dead, deal with it.

So honestly this is an episode where it’s just Seto demanding we kill a bastard, and Yami being like “but not THAT bastard” and Seto just shrugging and saying “I have to kill A bastard, Yugi! Just CHOOSE one!”

That actual line in the show (I forget what it was exactly) does infer that Seto thinks Joey holds him back, and that implication speaks miles about Seto’s insecurities.

HOW THOUGH..........what are you jealous of, Seto?

You’re better at cards than he is, he’s never beat you at anything. It’s not about who’s best friends with Yugi because...Yugi’s possessed so Yami is always going to take first place...

......so what could it possibly BE?

Seto doesn’t attend school anymore, is it about that? Is it because Joey is likeable? Is it because Joey pretends he has a much older girlfriend? I mean hypothetically, Blue Eyes White Dragon is WAY older than Mai so...that can’t be it.

.....what IS it???

Does the “friendship” he have with Joey make Seto too soft? Is that what’s holding him back? Because Seto doesn’t actually think he’s friends with these people and says that Yugi and co are “Mokuba’s friends” so like....

.....what are you talking about, Seto???

Is it because you’re addicted to cards again? Because that’s...sort of Joey’s fault because he was the one who told you he needed a ride to Jacksonville, and then let slip that the “King of Games” title was up for grabs, is that it?

Are you just tired of Joey asking you for a ride?

Not like it matters, because Joey survives, and Seto gets to feel like a complete asshole about it.

As Raphael (who is this purple blur here) motorcycles into the dome of souls, Rolands last words were

“You can’t go in there!”

which was the weirdest thing to say to a guy you just saw fall down a 50 story building a few hours ago. Raphael not being dead should be the thing Roland fixates on, but instead he’s seen so many people die and come back to life, that he’s only concerned that Raphael will get in trouble for trespassing.

Again, Roland is the only Kaiba that hasn’t died yet, and it’s because he’s the only Kaiba that hasn’t broken the law.

Dude. What if the reason Roland is standing outside is because he’s been politely looking for the doorbell to be let in?

...the players asking for death...like clockwork...and me asking for the end of this freakin game...we played...1 turn this episode...

This episode was 1 turn!

And you may ask...well what else could possibly happen to stretch this out and well...

Raphael dives in on a motorcycle to save the day. Which is an aesthetic, by the way, this huge man covered in like a dozen belts, doing a wheelie jump into a chasm of 1 million souls. that’s an aesthetic.

So he shows up, gets off his bike and I was like “Oh good, someone to maybe save Yugi saving Joey saving Mai?” And instead, I was...not given that.

Mostly Raphael is here because he ALSO wants to kill Dartz, and is like “can I join? I know you’ve only played like 1 round, just deal me a new hand, it’ll be fine.” and it’s like...we already played the Orichalcos Raphael, this is not a game of Uno, you cannot just jump in.

Dartz is sort of obsessed with how everyone around him has potential for evil except for him, the chillest human to ever be born, and I gotta say...when he’s in this room...Dartz has a point.

+++++++++++++RANT ABOUT BEING PERFECT FEEL FREE TO SKIP++++++++++++++

It is sort of nice to have the concept of an older generation (in this case 10,000 years older) fighting with a younger generation. To have the older, more typically wiser generation say “Listen, I kinda screwed the planet and the war economy and the prison system...and I’m gonna keep doing that...and you can’t stop me because you’re a bunch of hypocritical dumbasses.” and then the younger generation say. “We don’t care if we’re a mess, dude. We aren’t the problem here.”

I may be putting some recent topical STUFF into this mold here, but it is a nice little analogy that they made even someone who is such a human disaster as Yami and Seto “morally good” enough to fight Dartz. You don’t have to be a perfect Harvard Grad to fight the system, you don’t have to be an entirely problematic-free savior, you can be even as problematic as Seto Kaiba--just get rid of the dumb assholes trying to destroy the world. That’s all.

Like this concept is strangely prescient because in 2020 we’re in a weird time period where if you aren’t perfect, you’re not allowed to have opinions. You’re not allowed to make content. You’re not allowed to make change. This is mostly an online problem in places like twitter, but it’s a real problem--because in the end what you’re left with is no one that wants to step up to the plate because they know that they, too, are flawed.

And like not even just as a political thing, even as a creator, as an artist, I see this problem more and more with kids. Kids who are like “I am afraid to draw because what if I do it wrong and I get dragged on twitter years later?” or “I want to make a story, but I’m afraid to get cancelled because my fantasy story has problematic stuff in it? Am a bad person for wanting to write it?” And it’s like...what are we doing to young creators right now? Did we all fail humanities? How have we failed art and literature SO badly that we’ve come to this point that people are too afraid to even learn how to do it right?

Anyway that was a tangent, but like...you see the similarities, right? That if you really were as perfect as Dartz either politically or creatively, you’d be a freakin monster and would probably just tear down everyone else around you on twitter rather than lift other people up. It’s a stretch but eh, it’s been a while since I went on a good Yugioh tangent and like

---it’s not like I can say this on twitter---

+++++++++++++++END OF THAT RANT+++++++++++++++++++

So it’s at this point that Dartz turns to Raphael is like “I mean...we weren’t really doing anything else, and Yugi and Yami are playing so slowly...I guess I have time to bust your nuts” and decides to bust his nuts.

Oh hey, I was right.

And yeah, that’s still effed up. Dartz killed his Raphael’s family, left him on an island, and then adopted him later after forcing him to dig up their graves. Like...Raphael, that’s effed up.

He also did the same thing to everyone else (and for Valon he just kinda glazed over that really fast because we had to edit his backstory out of the English version)

PS at this part Mokuba started sweating bullets and Tea leaned over and was like “Is this true, Mokuba?”

And Mokuba was like “...yes.”

Because, I don’t think Mokuba can keep any secret from Tea. Like for reals, Tea may be the most dangerous thing to all of KaibaCorp if she wasn’t so distracted by Yami’s endless string of problems. Mokuba is constantly telling them all of Seto’s deepest darkest secrets and there is like nothing Seto can do about it.

The animation of Gozaburo turning into a beautiful Dartz was just a simple fade to white, but man--imagine if they had dome some crazy effed up animation where Gozaburo just whips back his head and he has ass length blue hair and long, luscious lashes?

Imagine.

Anyway, this was enough for Raphael, who was already our most gullible and unstable person on this show, to just flip that switch and go lime green like all those other minibosses before him.

Really glad we built up Raphael for him to just die at the door hahaha.

That was so freakin random.

OK then. Thanks for nothing, Raphael.

I guess we go to the next episode to see if we finally play another turn? We can hope for good things. But if we don’t play a full turn I will NOT be surprised.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[howrry]

ice

a/n: finally! i’m settled into skool lyfe and bella is back in business bitch (we love alliteration) here is that full fic of ice i’ve been hinting at :~)

w/c: 4.2k

warnings: this fic has an age gap of about 4 years and one of the characters is an older teenager! this is totally legal where i’m from but if it’s not where you are or it makes you uncomfortable then maybe don’t read this? also smut

***

Waiting for that one Facetime was like watching a huge pot of water boil. It was cliché, but you were running out of mundane things to do since you’d gotten home from uni. Seriously—laundry, reorganizing your soulless childhood room, even fully unpacking despite having weeks to get comfortable. Of course, as soon as you came back, you had your reunion with your parents and other family, but you hadn’t quite reached the seeing-friends phase of coming home.

At least, not until that lovely ringtone hummed through your room and you pounced on the bed, swiping on Gemma’s beautiful face. “Babe!” you cried.

“Hush,” she joked, crunching on a red apple on her side of the screen. You could hear her turn down the volume by clicking the buttons on her phone.

“Are you ready for me, then?” you asked, bouncing up and down on your tippy toes.

“No, don’t want to see you,” she crunched again, “just wanted to call to see how your mum’s doing. Of course I’m ready, twit!”

“Watch your language!” you chastised. “But I’ll be over in a New York minute.”

Getting ready was a rush—at this point you were just ready to get down the street. You shoved your feet into your Birks and grabbed your phone and keys, and once you’d padded down the stairs, your parents merely got a “be at Gem’s, later!” before you slammed the door.

When you got there, it was Harry who greeted you. You’d knocked and waited, since their house was always locked anyways. He threw the door open so fast that his cross necklace was still swinging when he rested his head on his forearm propped up on the doorframe. “Sorry, we don’t want any Girl Scout cookies,” he joked, smirking around his own jab.

“Ha ha ha,” you sarcastically bit. “Move it, Fisher-Price, I’m here for your sister.”

“I had a great semester, thank yeh for askin’,” he smiled, moving back and letting you in. “What about y’self?”

“It was productive, actually. Good to see you again, H,” you responded congenially. Ahh, the smell of your friend’s home was so nostalgic and inviting. It was fall all year round with the pumpkin in the living room, vanilla in the foyer, pine needles upstairs…

“Likewise,” he winked just before you went upstairs to your friend’s room.

Harry had always been a little charmer. Anne raised him to be very polite and he was naturally entertaining despite his introverted tendencies, but he’d always been Gemma’s annoying little brother to you. He always tried to butt into your hangouts with her, as far back as when he was four and you were eight and he wanted to play outside with you two, up to when he was 15 and you were 19 and he tried to buy beer from Gemma.

But soon, things changed. Harry got taller and his voice dropped and his skin got clear, and suddenly he wasn’t just the annoying little brother anymore. He was almost an adult, and he certainly developed a way with girls. The first time you went to see Gem and Harry had a girl over, something you couldn’t describe churned in your stomach. There’s no way Harry didn’t notice the way you cut your eyes when you initially saw her.

Ever since then, he just took a different light in your eyes. Going to Gemma’s house suddenly had double the benefits since you were seeing your best friend and her stupid hot little brother. If she left you alone for any period of time, you’d do anything to get Harry’s attention. He would chat with this amused smirk, one hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his cross necklace, as if he knew you were subtly pining.

It was honestly kind of pathetic. He was still in high school, and you were in the home stretch of university. You had a potential hook-up pool that was at least five times the size of his and a much better selection, yet you were yearning for a guy who can’t even buy his own cigarettes.

But you didn’t care, and obviously Harry didn’t either. He humored your goofy flirting and gave it right back to you. For the most part, it was just harmless compliments and light schoolyard jabs and never escalated past that, until, well, it did.

You were going to go to brunch with Gemma that day. She’d gotten a part-time job as a photographer’s intern downtown that year, and invited you to try a new café with her. It was the perfect excuse to wear that flowy Free People dress you got, so you agreed.

While getting ready, Gemma called you in a panic. “Y/N! I forgot my wallet on my vanity at home,” she breathed. “Do you mind getting it before coming over?”

“Not a problem,” you hummed, checking your lipstick.

“Thanks, love. My mum left the front door unlocked when she got in this morning so just make yourself at home looking for it. See you soon!” Gemma blew a kiss into the phone before hanging up.

Her front door was open, just like she warned, and you hopped up the stairs to her room. Unfortunately, Gemma was more of the messy type, so finding her wallet was no easy task. Her vanity was covered in makeup and hair care bottles and papers from the previous semester. Where the hell could the wallet possibly be?

“Looking for somethin’?” Harry asked, leaning on the door frame with a Coke can in hand.

You looked up, pushing the hair that had fallen in your face to the side. “Need your sister’s wallet. It’s brunch time.”

“Ooh, bring me back a ricotta toast,” he ordered, reaching into Gemma’s Louis purse hanging by her door and pulling out her black wallet.

“You’d be lucky if I brought back a napkin,” you sneered, taking the wallet from him and going to shove past him.

He blocked your exit and held a hand up to your shoulder. “Wait, doll. Your earring is twisted backwards.” The hand that stopped you trailed up to softly ghost across your face and fix your earring, which must have gotten tangled in your wild goose chase.

Fuck, he was close. You could hear the soft breaths fanning out from his nostrils, his almost disinterested gaze slowly morphing into his classic smirk, and hand not leaving your skin in a timely fashion. His piercing green eyes rendered you stupidly frozen.

And the tension snapped. Within minutes he had you out of your dress and was fucking you into Gemma’s floral duvet. Everything was happening so fast; you didn’t even stop to think about how wrong it was. The feel of his teeth dragging across your neck and the stretch of his cock inside you were really the only things on your mind at that point.

It was rough and quick and dirty (and quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever done) but by the time you two were adjusting yourselves and catching your breath, you were twenty minutes late to lunch. You blamed it on traffic and Gemma didn’t care to push it.

So that’s how it started. It wasn’t anything exclusive, it wasn’t intimate, and it certainly wasn’t something you talked about outside of the bedroom. “The bedroom” being figurative, of course, since Harry and you liked to get it on whenever you had the chance. It wasn’t weird if you ended up bent over a washing machine or on your knees in front of him pressed up against the wall in a hallway.

When you thought about it, like reallypondered in a hot shower, you knew it was fucked up to be doing what you’re doing. It’s not like it was illegal—you just felt like you were betraying Gemma. You were closer to her than anyone else in the world and you were sneaking around with her brother.

He didn’t make it fair, though. He was so poised and smooth and fucked like he wasn’t still in AP Physics. The way he bantered with not only you but his sister and mother was definitely more witty than most boys his age. It only made sense to let him rearrange your guts.

So you had a bit of an internal dilemma. Frankly, if your little affair is well kept from Gemma, it shouldn’t be a problem at all. So you thought.

***

“So, do you have lice or something?” Gemma asked, raising an eyebrow from behind her magazine. The two of you had finally settled into winter break time and were taking turns spending at each other’s houses. Today, it was girls’ night at the Styles’ home.

You froze, one hand ruthlessly digging in your hair. “What? No. There’s just a wicked knot in my hair and I can’t get it out.” It was in the most unfortunate location on the back of your scalp, and your fingers could make no sense of the mat of hair.

“Do you need some help?” she offered, setting down her literature.

You reared back even though she was sitting at her desk across the room. “Gross, you just painted your nails! No thanks. Besides, I think I’m getting it.”

She shrugged and blew on her soft blue nails. “Whatever. I’m getting a yogurt.”

“I want one too,” you hummed, sliding off her comfortable duvet and gently pulling out a few strands of broken hair. A tiny plopaccompanied your feet on the rug and you spun in confusion. The noise was too soft to be a phone, but you still checked that yours was in your pocket. Barely visible in the fibers of the shag rug rested a solid black metallic ring. It was Harry’s.

You stared at it in horror. The ring had been in your goddamn hair. Earlier that day you’d given Harry a blowjob that left him slack-jawed and pink-cheeked and his hands had been so tangled up in your hair that your hair stole his ring. Which just fell out onto the floor in Gemma’s room.

“Is that Harry’s ring?” she hissed, gaze locking on the ring standing out from the white rug.

Oh no. Oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck—

“He’s such a twat. Why does he leave his jewelry everywhere? You could’ve stepped on that!” she continued, reaching down to pick it up. “I’m gonna throw it in the trash.”

When she moved to her trash bin, your eyes widened and you squealed a “don’t!” That ring was really nice and you knew Harry would be devastated if she threw it out.

Gemma turned slowly. “Why?”

Your mind raced to think of a good excuse. “Because, if you throw out a ring he wears all the time, he’ll throw out something of yours that youcherish.” You gestured towards her vanity where the Tiffany box sat. She’d just bought herself a necklace for doing so well on her exams and you knew that Harry would retaliate with it.

Your best friend eyed the necklace and then the ring in her fingers. “You’re right,” she finally agreed. You let out a huge breath—there was always the risk of being too weird about Harry and blowing your own cover, but once Gemma ducked into her brother’s room and pinged Harry’s back with the ring, you knew the cover was totally intact.

***

God, you didn’t want to party. The break ended next week and soon it’d be books and schedules and debt again. Who could be shotgunning 4Lokos at a time like this?! Plus, none of the bars were open this day of the week so the only option was a freakin’ house party. What uni students over the age of 21 go to house parties?

But Gemma wanted to, and what she wants, she gets. Though you loved her tenacious attitude at times, all you cared about right now was taking off your revealing top and climbing into bed.

You nursed on straight Coke in the kitchen and absentmindedly watched Gemma go hard. You trusted her and vice versa; she knew her limits but still could have a really, really good time. The men of the party were in awe as she threw back tequila and slapped the bag right after, and even the inside of yourmouth was feeling withered just watching her.

“Hey, there,” you heard from off to the side. You casually lulled your head over to see a shockingly attractive guy. He had thick, dark hair with a sprinkling of light brown freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“Hi. You lost?” you joked, moving to make room on the upholstered bench next to you, where the mystery man joined you.

“Not anymore.” Mm. The faint scent of alcoholic breath wafted to your face but this stranger was keeping his composure quite well. “I’m Russell.”

“Y/N, pleasure,” you hummed, shaking his hand.

He started chatting you up, but to be fair, it was in one ear and out the other. He was clearly throwing words to the wind, and not even his good looks or nice cologne could draw your attention. It wasn’t like Harry, who could entice you with conversations about chopped liver if he so wanted to.

Ahh, Harry. You wondered what he was up to right now. He was probably at a party himself, drinking watery beer and flirting with any bird with eyelash extensions that gave him attention. God, why were you getting so jealous of him? You certainly didn’t owe him any loyalty and neither did he. In fact, if you so desired, you could go out and get laid right now and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it!

Your attention drifted back to the cute boy next to you. Somehow, as Russell droned on about his recent physics prof, you started to see Harry in his features. Certainly not in anything coming out of his mouth, but the curls that flopped down into his face were just like H’s after he’s played footy all day. Russell’s hands had prominent veins on them, just like Harry’s hands when they were grabbing at your skin and smacking your ass. Even the way he toyed with his bottom lip while thinking aloud.

Though H was really the last person you wanted on your mind right now, all these physical thoughts were making Russell more and more attractive by the minute. He wasn’t Harry, but maybe he could be Great Value Harry. You reciprocated his flirty chatter and got touchy with him, and things quickly devolved into kissing in the corner of the kitchen you two occupied.

Things were happening surprisingly fast for how sober you were. You went upstairs with him, you made out with him on a random bed, you undressed each other, and before you knew it he was rolling on a condom and pushing himself into you.

It wasn’t necessarily that it was bad sex. Russell had soft lips that kissed your neck as he thrusted and he certainly wasn’t small, but it didn’t really blow you out of the water. Your toes didn’t curl and your eyes didn’t roll back into your skull. He even lasted a decent amount of time, but once you made your mind up about not getting an O, you kinda just wanted it to end.

Once it did, he got busy falling asleep and you tried to not take it personally (c’mon, it’s pretty taxing for a guy to cum). You tugged your clothes back on and went out to look for Gemma, and of course she was upstairs as well, throwing up into a bathroom trashcan.

“Hey, Gem, how you feel?” you asked, rubbing at her back and tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Better now that this is out of me. Wanna go home?” she mumbled, sighing and wistfully staring at the toilet that she was seconds from making it into.

“Yep. C’mon, I’ll call an Uber,” you said to no one, hoisting a lackadaisical Gemma onto your shoulder and out of the house.

Once home, getting Gemma situated was the most difficult part. Her mother worked late and Harry was probably out, but even without the chance of running into one of her family members, she was still heavy. Her choice to not use her legs at all certainly didn’t do you any favors, either.

When the front door opened and the familiar smell of her abode hit Gemma’s nose, she perked up. It became minimally easier to hoist her up the stairs and into her bed. You did your best to scrub at the makeup that had lasted through her dancing and puking without waking her, but she was so tired and lulled to sleep by her drinks that an earthquake wouldn’t make her stir for at least eight hours. You nodded at the unopened cheap water on her nightstand, reminding yourself to get her a reusable bottle.

Your work was done. Gemma was snoring smoothly within minutes with a clean face and a drink waiting for her in the morning. You got laid, even though you were completely sober, it wasn’t exactly a great dick review, and you’re a 21-year-old who got fucked at a house party. Maybe it was just time to go home and accept the night for… whatever it was. You padded downstairs softly despite the minor coma your best friend was in. Common courtesy, you supposed.

Thump.

Face first into a chest. It was totally dark in the house and you definitely didn’t expect there to be a solid torso in Gemma’s living room for you to bump into. A sharp gasp filled your lungs and the figure reached behind and clicked the lamp on. Harry, of course.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me,” you breathed, slapping a hand to your chest.

“It’s my house,” he grumbled. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw his puffy eyes and messy hair and wrinkled clothes. He’d been sleeping.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you? I thought you’d be out.” Just seeing him in such a soft state made your lower belly swirl.

He shook his head a bit. “What are y’doing here?”

“Went to a party with Gem. She got too wild so I put her to bed,” you bluntly explained.

Harry pursed his lips, crossing his arms and eyeing you focusedly. “Did you have a good time?”

“No,” you answered quickly, because you didn’t. “I didn’t drink and I had to take care of Gemma and I fucked someone.” That last part fell out of your mouth before you had a chance to think twice.

There were a few beats of a heavy silence and you wondered if you made a mistake. “Did they fuck you good, baby?” he finally asked, no emotion inflecting his words.

You couldn’t have been less prepared for that response. “No,” you whimpered, face getting hot at his critical stare.

“Oh, doll, they couldn’t fuck yeh like I can, huh?” His voice was pure sex—every response he had to you threw you off more than the last. Everything he said just floated off his tongue and danced into the room and onto whosever’s ears they were around.

“No, they couldn’t,” you choked out. You felt like your throat was closing. “No one fucks me like you do and I can’t understand it. I shouldn’t be seeing you because it’s so wrong but...” God, shut up shut up shut up. Your word vomit amused Harry beyond belief. The smug look on his face was making you feel even smaller than his height already did.

“Oh, I know what you’re sayin’, doll,” he laughed. “You wanna do the right thing by m’sister but yeh just can’t. Deep down y’know you’ll always come back to me, hmm?” Harry took a step towards you, and you completely froze. You thought that he was about to bend down and kiss you but he surprised you yet again by snapping a hand up and gripping it around your neck. “I own you, y’hear me?”

You nodded, or at least the best you could with his vice grip on you. Every breath you tried to take stopped short in the back of your throat, and it almost felt like your feet were about to lift off the ground. Your own hands flew up to claw at Harry’s hand before his grip finally softened. A thick gasp sucked in and your legs threatened to not support your body, but he grabbed at you and steadied you. His fingers grazed your quivering lips. “Who’s mouth is this?” he asked, intently staring.

“Yours,” it came out as a whisper. Normally he’d be much meaner and wouldn’t accept such a quiet response, but he was feeling generous, apparently. He leaned down and kissed you, sucking in on your bottom lip and biting the red flesh.

The two of you made your way down to the couch, such that you were straddling Harry and he was cupping at your ass. Your hair kept falling in your faces, but he didn’t care and continued to kiss you and grab at your throat.

He took a break and leaned back on the couch, taking his time to lazily cup at the soft skin behind your thighs. “Mmm, and who’s ass is this?” When you breathed out another “yours” he smacked it audibly. “Goddamn right, pet.”

He didn’t take your shirt off, nor any of his clothes. He lifted you just enough for you to tug your shorts and panties down, and for him to pull his leaking cock out of his dark sweats. You tried to tease for a moment, grinding your bare center against him, but he put a stop to that. “Do I even have t’ask if this is mine?” he growled, assertively cupping your cunt with his big hand. You shook your head and he smirked, guiding his tip up and down your slit.

“Nope, because I know it’s mine,” he whispered, letting you slip his whole length inside your wet pussy. He shoved his hands up the back of your shirt, dragging his nails down the soft skin. Once you’d bottomed out and you were desperately grinding your clit against his pubic bone, he put a hand flat on your chest. “Lean back and ride me, pet.”

You obeyed to the best of your ability. You put your hands behind you on his knees and shifted your weight back, allowing him to fully watch himself disappear into you. The coarse, dark curls at the base of his member lightly stimulated your clit on the downstrokes, making you helplessly whimper while you fucked yourself on him.

“Are yeh sure you fucked someone?” he grunted. “So fuckin’ tight, I just don’t believe it.” His fingers snaked down and played around with your clit, which undoubtedly threw off your bouncing. Your hips begged to stay down and enjoy the circles he was tracing over your button, but he wouldn’t let you. His free hand went to your hip, just above where it bent into your thigh, and guided you to start moving again. “Uh-uh. Keep ridin’ me, love. I know yeh can keep a rhythm, hmm?”

So you kept riding. The pressure of his tip ghosting around your G-spot combined with him stimulating your clit was making it difficult to stay quiet. Sure, Gem was asleep, but she wasn’t dead, and if you made a ridiculous amount of noise, she’d definitely investigate.

“Gonna cum, aren’t yeh?” he asked, and fuck, he was right. That knot was already starting to form in your lower belly.. “I can tell. Yeh gonna let go, all over m’cock? Gonna make a mess fo’ me?”

His words caused you to spill over, and you were no longer able to hold yourself up leaning back. He was very forgiving of this, and let you grab at his shoulders while riding out your high. Once you’d stopped shaking and panting into his neck, he thrusted his hips up into you once, twice, three times and came inside of you with a grunt and some more nail-digging, this time into your thighs.

And then it was silent. You meekly got off of him and shakily pulled your shorts back up. You two quietly redressed, Harry nearly dead from his draining orgasm and you weak in the legs from your sexual workout. The only noise was the scratch of fabric on fabric and your shared heavy breathing. Finally, when you were gathering your things to leave, Harry spoke in his sultry, hoarse voice.

“I like when you come around,” he smiled, and you immediately returned it. It didn’t seem like much, but this was Harry’s way of expressing affection. Regardless of how good he was in bed or how witty and charming he came off, he was still a goofy teenage boy who had trouble talking about his emotions.

A little giggle came out of your nostrils. “Thanks, Haz.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, hmm?” he asked, pinning that unconfident noise at the end despite knowing you’d be back. He was already relaxing, crossing his arms behind his head and lazily eyeing you scramble towards the front door.

“Yeah,” you dreamily affirmed, giving a quick wave to Harry (which he goofily returned) and floating out the front door. “Tomorrow,” you said to the empty street in front of you, toying with your car keys in your hands.

[barnes-belle]

Beauty and the Barnes (2)

A Modern Retelling Of Beauty and The Beast. 

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Lots of Smut, Light Hints of Non/Dub-Con, Prostitution, Swearing, Dark Bucky.

When your father falls deathly ill you fall into a lifestyle you would have could have never predicted for yourself. Selling your body as a high-class escort isn’t ideal but it’s the only way to find the money you need to help your father, until your first client offers you another way.

Bucky’s mean, coarse and gets a kick out of watching you squirm but he is willing to help your father. All you have to do is sign yourself over to The Winter Soldier, body and soul.

Trapped in The Avengers compound, serving as a PA to a man who’s an absolute beast you find yourself wondering if there’s such a thing as a happy ending?

Chapter Two

You kicked the front door open with your foot as you juggled the keys and the bags of groceries.

“Dad?” You called out, looking around the open for him.

 “Oh sweetheart, there you are. Could you *cough* pass me the *cough*…” He said, peering at you from behind a canvas.

 “The cornflower blue?” You asked, smiling sadly and passing him the paint.

 He nodded happily, choosing to save his voice.

 Once upon a time your father had been an incredible painter. He never sought riches or fame, just enough to get by and make sure you had all you needed. Beyond that, he just wanted to bring a little beauty and joy into people’s lives. These days, he painted for himself. He was to weak, too shaky to give his art the same level of detail as before and it had become a private hobby.

 “Dad, why isn’t the fireplace lit? We have a top floor apartment so you can use the chimney.” You scolded, dropping the groceries onto the countertop and hurrying over to the fireplace.

 “It dries out the paint.” He wheezed.

 “It also helps your lungs. Cold air, bad!” You said for the billionth time as you stuffed newspapers under the logs.

 He devolved into a violent coughing fit behind you and you sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to ease it.

 “I’ll put the groceries away.” You told him and he waved you off, picking up his paintbrush again.

 You slowly put all the healthy foods into the fridge, contemplating the life changing decision you’d been given last night, pretending to ponder over it. It was your father’s health, his life you were talking about here though and you knew that ultimately, you were going to sign yourself over to Bucky Barnes. You pulled out your phone and sent a text to Mrs Pamela, telling her it just wasn’t the right lifestyle for you and promptly blocked her number. That was when you noticed the new email notification.

  From: JBBTWS@Starkmail.com

Subject: I think this will satisfy your father’s needs.

 You clicked open the email and nearly dropped the phone in shock at the online brochure it led you to. The out of state clinic was one of the best in the country, specialising in lung disorders. The pictures showed a sleek, clean, homely looking facility that boasted the best doctors. It was the sort of place that you couldn’t even have dreamt of sending your father.

 “Dad?”

 “Hmm?”

 “I have a Job interview with Stark Industries today, if I get it my medical insurance will cover your treatments. Better, you’ll get really good care.” You said, fudging the truth.

 “Yes but *cough* do you want this job? Will you like working *cough* there?” You father asked in concern.

 “I would love to get this job!” You lied through your teeth.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------

 You smoothed your hands over the skirt of your dress nervously as you got out of your beat up old rickety pick-up truck and stepped inside the building, slipping the lanyard that had been given to you at the front gate over your neck. There was a reception desk, but it was unmanned and you looked around nervously.

 “Hello, is anyone there?” You called quietly.

 “Hello Miss Belle.” A woman’s voice said from nowhere and you yelped and spun round looking for the owner of the mysterious voice.

 “Hello…. Ghost?” You answered.

 “My name is Friday; I am an Artificial Intelligence system. Sergeant Barnes is expecting you, if you’ll step into the elevator, I will send you to the correct floor.” Friday said.

 “Oh, why thank you very much Friday.” You said kindly as an elevator door slid open on the other side of the room and you hurried towards it.

 As the elevator carried you up, you wondered if it would be rude of you to correct an AI about your name. You decided against it, you didn’t want to offend or embarrass her.

 “Sergeant Barnes is waiting for you in his suite. Turn left, then right and it’s the second door on the right.” Friday instructed.

 “Thankyou Friday!” You called, hurrying out of the elevator with your head down, hoping you didn’t run into anybody.

 You made your way to the correct door and raised your hand to knock but before you did it swung open and Bucky Barnes looked down at you with an unimpressed, almost bored expression.

 “You made the right choice. Sign these.” He said, tossing a pile of papers at you.

 “Can I read them?” You asked, catching them awkwardly as you crossed the threshold.

 “The point of reading a contract is to make sure you’re not signing your soul away. You are signing your soul over to me, and your body with it. Besides, those are just the standard NDA’s and privacy clauses all Stark employee’s sign.” He said, sitting down and watching you.

 “Right…” you said, looking through your bag for a pen.

 He held one up in your line of vison and you took it.

 “Does it use Ink or Blood?” You joked.

 “Why, do you have a bloodplay kink you want me to indulge?” He asked and you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.

 “Nope. My only kink is being completely owned and controlled by handsome 100-year-old assassins?” You offered and there was a flash of something in his eyes.

 You took a deep breath and screwed your eyes closed so you didn’t have to watch yourself sign your life away. As soon as you were done he snatched the papers away and handed you a single sheet of paper.

 “Now sign this.” He instructed.

 “This contract gives you uninhabited access to my body, whenever, wherever and however you chose. In return, you will pay for my father’s admission and stay at The Clinic and all treatments needed. That’s literally all it says.” You spluttered.

 “That’s all it needs to say.”

 “I…” You began but he was right. What more was there to be said?

 “Is it even legally binding?” You asked.

 “The law is the least of your worries if you break a contract with me. But yes. Friday serves as a witness.” He informed you.

 “What about if you break the contract?” You asked.

 “I won’t.” He stated.

 “But what if…”

 “I’m not going to.”

 “But how do I know that?”

 “I WONT!” He roared; patience spent.

 You had to believe him. It was your dads’ best chance. So nodded and scribbled your signature onto the paper. For such a monumental moment in your life, it was rather anti-climactic, and you pulled back to regard the paper with a puzzled frown.

 “What now?” He snapped.

 “I don’t know… I was expecting it to burst into flames or something.” You admitted.

 “How… why… never mind.” He sighed, looking at you like you were an idiot and grabbing your elbow and dragging you over to a door on the far side of the room.

 “This is your room. Mine is that one.” He said, pointing to the opposite side of the room.

 “So, you don’t live in Brooklyn? Wait. MY room?” You yelped.

 “Yes, your room. I want you fully moved in by tomorrow night at the latest. It’s in the contracts you just signed. The clinic is coming for your father, in about… 25 minutes.” He told you.

 “What? But… but I didn’t even get to say goodbye! I’ll never make it home on time!”

 “Not my problem. I promised to get him help, I have. You’re being given a tour of the compound and getting your security clearance by one of the on-site PA’s in a few minutes, so we don’t have a lot of time.” He said callously, pushing you into the living area.

 “But…” You objected.

 “Listen, you belong to me now. You agreed to it, so stop fucking being annoying about it and do as I damn well say.”

 You snapped your mouth closed and tried to brush aside the thought you’d made a terrible mistake and the worry for your father and nodded to him. Your new master.

 “Turn around.” He instructed.

 When you did, he quickly unzipped your dress and slipped the straps over your shoulders, pushing the dress to the floor.

 “We don't have a lot of time, but I don't want you walking around the building meeting all these superheroes without remembering who you belong too.” He told you.

 He spun you around so you were facing him and sat down in the chair. You stood there unsure exactly of what you're supposed to do until he unzipped himself and pulled his fully hard cock free. You stifled a gasp, somehow in your mind you'd managed to downplay how big it was but seeing again now you remembered how difficult it had been to fit that thing inside of you.

 “Well don't just stand there Belle, this is your job now.” He reprimanded.

You stepped forward and began to sink to your knees but he tutted at you and you sighed and leant over him instead, wrapping your hand around his cock. You couldn’t fit your fingers all the way around him as you tentatively and experimentally pumped your hand up and down his shaft.

 “Hmm. Put a little effort into it.” He said coldly.

 So you did. Your back started to burn from the awkward hunched over position quickly and your arm started to ache from the continues pumping. It was so… mundane. This was the man who ordered prostitutes to get off, not the cruel, sadistic and almost cheekily charming man who’d made you ride him.

 You strangely missed that man, at least he’d had a shade of life in him. So, you did something potentially stupid and leaned over to lick the bead of pre-cum leaking from his tip. He cocked his head curiously at you but didn’t reprimand you, so you slowly closed your lips over the very tip of him and almost teasingly sucked as you pumped your hand along his shaft, twisting your wrist and squeezing him.

 “There’s my Belle.” He praised.

 He stood up, forcing you to stand upright as he did, and you continued to jerk him off as he pulled your underwear down over your hips, leaving them about midway down your thigh. He leant forward so the head of his cock was jutting over the edge of your panties and you figured out was he was doing. He was going to make you carry a reminder of who you belonged to with you for the rest of the day and you swallowed thickly.

 His fingers hooked under your chin and forced you to look up at him. He gazed at your face with a look you couldn’t quite place for a few moments before you felt him twitch in your hand and you glanced down to watch as he spurted roped of white cum into your panties, some of it splashing off of your pussy. He groaned and you pumped him until he was done and he quickly pulled your panties back up, further than they needed to be until it was almost painful.

 You could feel his sticky, warm seed press against your most intimate parts and you shuddered at the sensation. Especially when it oozed out of your underwear and trickled down your leg. He zipped himself back up and tossed your dress at you and walked towards the door, sighing and stopping without turning when he didn’t hear you move.

 “What are you doing?” He asked.

 “I don’t want to move yet?” You said timidly.

 “Why?”

 “Because… It’ll…. You know? It’ll squelch.” You explained.

 His shoulders shook and for a brief second you thought he might be laughing until he turned around and glared at you.

 “You’ll suffer a lot worse than wet panties while you’re here. Trust me. Fucking move.” He snarled and you hurriedly pulled your dress back on, twisting around to pull the zipper up.

 He unceremoniously pushed you out of the door and smacked you ass before the door slammed in your face.

 “I don’t know where I’m supposed to go!” You shouted.

 No response.

 “Bucky?”

 Nothing.

 “Friday?” You said hopefully.

 “Yes Miss Belle, I’m here. If you head back towards the elevator, the common room is opposite, and your escort is waiting there for you.” Friday said helpfully.

 “Thankyouu.” You whispered, walking awkwardly towards the common room.

 There was indeed squelching and though you would never, ever admit it out loud, having Bucky’s cum soaking through your underwear and coating your pussy was actually not an entirely unpleasant feeling. You gradually straightened up, getting used to the feeling.

 You wandered into the common room, looking around for your ‘escort’.

 “Who’s that?”

 “Is that her? Are you the girl?

 “I think it is. Are you Belle?”

 You stood in the doorway, dumbstruck. The two men, the two very famous men looked over you curiously, bordering on concern when you didn’t move.

 You really hoped neither Captain America nor The Falcon was your tour guide because you were not making a good impression.

 “Yes! I’m Belle.” You said without thinking.

 It was really starting to look like you were stuck with the name.

  A/N - I'm still not 100% sure about this fic so this is the decider chapter for me. I tried to make Bucky beastly but still Bucky and I wanted Belle to be sweet and innocent but still have a sassy streak.In case you would like to know... 

Lumiere - Steve Cogsworth - Sam Mrs Potts - Tony Chip - Peter Parker

@spnqueen02 @nogardsoahk @chipilerendi @jessieray98 @nochampagnesocialist @scarlettswxtch @dropthepizza346

[flying-elliska]

Hi Ellie! I really don’t want to bother you with these things while you’re on your vacation, but you really seem to have a nice understanding of it and I kind of wanted to read what you think. I’ve read so many things about how creating art can be great for mental health. I’m at a point in my depression in which I can tell I need something like that to pour my thoughts into like painting or writing and the idea excites me, but I don’t have the mental energy to do it. How do you handle this?

Hey dear anon ! Those types of questions never bother me don't worry, even tho I might sometimes take a little time answering but I'm having a bit of a solitary time out today so here goes.

I think this is a very important question ; I don't have a clear cut answer though, this is also something I often struggle with. But here are a few considerations :

- First of all, are you blocking yourself with stuff like perfectionism, super high expectations of yourself/what 'art' should be ? Because that can be a huge drain. I think it's important to offset that by taking a 'playground' approach. Or whatever works. And think that whatever you manage to do, it's always better than the blank page. It's training, and it's a healing process. Don't be afraid to try stuff, stop if you're not into it anymore, and see it all as a beautiful process...and to try to have fun, even if it feels silly at first.

- Another thing : mental illness can often create this void in your brain and life, where you close yourself off and creating only from your inner miasma can be so painful. So I think it's important to know what feeds and recharges you creatively ; what spurs your need to create in an easy, fun way. These are going to be times where you're not actively creating and yet, you're still working on it. For me it's stuff like walking in the woods, finding myself in foreign places, modern art exhibitions, reading fun and fast fantasy YA and social science articles, and simply good music...but I think everyone has their own. Stuff that makes you excited to create, and curious about the world.

- So yeah, also don't be afraid to be a little derivative. Find your role models and copy them a little (not directly and for profit of course lol) - write fanfic or meta, try to imitate a certain style...I find this is a good way to let go of your fears and ego and let yourself be guided by the genius of others. It can be very freeing and fun. And maybe you understand more why they did this or that in that way. And learn a lot about yr own voice.

- Just do the fun parts. Know what they are for you and when you are feeling down, skip to them. I write fanfic abt lawyers without researching much about the legal system lol bc it annoys me. I sketch too without really bothering about clean up. You can be picky or harsh w yourself another day. I didn't come up w this but I think it's also important to let yrself create shitty things and see it as part of the process. And on days where you are really not feeling it consider the easiest possible ways of doing stuff like doodling on a page, making collages, or speaking into yr dictaphone app. It's important to take breaks also of course.

- Another key thing is to start considering creating as part of your mental health routine and self-care. For me I know keeping a diary is essential, otherwise I go all antsy. I've been trying out to write more letters to vent about my emotions and tearing them up too. I know drawing works wonders for a lot of people. You can say this may not be art but actually I really practiced my (self) observation skills, ability to describe emotions, I found interesting metaphors and ideas...but also I think to create you need a sort of...flow of emotions, and familiarity with them. Even the ugly parts. I think creating requires a sort of radical (self) acceptance, so you can truly see yrself and others without wanting to set everything on fire.

- I find it really helps to find other people who are into creating the same type of stuff as you and are creative in general and make them into "accomplices" - I have a friend who is super into making zines so I've been working on one of my own, I found sb to write fic with, a really good beta, someone who loves to go to museums as much as me....that gives me extra energy when I'm lacking.

- Become more observant of real life around you. Watch ppl, listen how they talk. Observe how light falls. The patterns of nature. Try to notice new smells, new sounds, new tastes, little details (this is also a good exercise to deal w anxiety/dissociation tbh). Think about what they imply. Become a sort of poetic detective. Try to find new metaphors. Practice mindful openness, but also sharpen your skills, and decide what place to give what you perceive.

- Also I'm finding the "try to do sth for 10 min" thing is really useful. Sometimes I think I'm tired as in "I don't have the energy" but really I'm tired in a "I have an emotional block and I'm letting it sit on me" way. So having this idea of just starting sth for 10 min, often I find it liberates me and then I want to keep going. And if I really don't feel it I stop but having tried does give me a good feeling.

- Finally I think it's just...fall in love w yr own creative process. Your characters, the story you love, the things you want to depict, the irrepressible need that drives you...your own "symbolic culture". To get a bit woowoo for a minute I really believe that we all have this sort of...unconscious cauldron of creative stuff in our deepest selves, made of memories and experiences and core questions and sensory memory-triggers and fears and hopes and thought patterns and stories. It's always shifting but the more we engage w it and feed it the more rich it becomes. You can do stuff like write down your dreams, think about what your favorite characters have in common, try to do creative meditation, freewrite/doodle, go on "creative dates" w yrself ala Julia Cameron...and whenever it responds I think you'll know. It always gives me this feeling of...groundedness, satisfaction, but also openness to mystery and a powerful urge to create.

Anyway I hope you find your own ways to make. Pls feel free to tell me how it goes, and good luck 🧡💛💖💛🧡💖

[noramoya]

Installment 115

February 10, 2019

“As the date of the broadcast of the so-called “documentary” on HBO nears and it appears that all attempts by Michael Jackson’s Estate to appeal to reason and journalistic ethics have failed, I am fully aware that we all feel defenseless and helpless against the powers ranged against us. I am reminded again of how we all felt in 1993, as allegations against our Beloved Michael swirled around us, plunging our hearts into months of devastation. I am reminded of how these feelings of hopelessness and helplessness were repeated in 2003-2005, when our beautiful Avatar was arrested and tried and, may I add, acquitted of any wrongdoing. And I am reminded of how, after his transition, we all quaked at the approach of the trial of Conrad Murray. We feared for our Angel’s reputation, we feared for his elderly mother, we feared for his young children, and we feared the revelations that would be made during the trial. Mixed with those fears were feelings of vengeance and anger and defenselessness against the onslaught of negativity.

Once again, we who love Michael are angry and we are harboring thoughts of vengeance, hatred, and despair. Those fears that we felt in 2011 are being played out in our current situation once again. To me, the period of preparation for the trial of Conrad Murray holds special similarity to the situation we are living through now.

At that time, many of us were meditating and visualizing on a daily basis. We were sweeping away the negativity within our own hearts and praying for the outcome which would result in the greatest good for the world instead of focusing on our own judgments of right and wrong and harboring thoughts of vengeance and our individual concepts of justice. As a result, we healed our own conflicted feelings and we weathered the storm with much more equanimity.

By substituting this current crisis in the place of the past and changing the names of those involved, the following passage from Installment #20, March 19 – March 26, 2011 [Volume 1, pp 198-209] feels particularly relevant:

Now, you asked earlier in this conversation, “What do I suggest?”

Well, just for argument sake, what would happen if, instead of stress chemicals and a tightening in your chest and hateful words running through your mind when you see or hear his name … you offered a prayer of thanksgiving to our Heavenly Father for being present in that courtroom and overseeing His Plan’s accomplishment? Would the same harmful chemicals be released in your own organism? Would anger and vengeance feed upon itself like a dog chasing its own tail in the larger organism of which we are all a part?

I am not asking you to bless Dr. Murray (although it wouldn’t be a bad idea; a prayer that his heart would be broken open to admit the Spirit of Truth would not be wrong, but it is not for the faint of heart.) I know that is asking a lot, though. Inviting God into the flawed legal system to straighten out some of the inevitable kinks can only benefit that system and all concerned. Would your human body have the same reaction? Which of the two reactions is more beneficial … more healing … for you … and for our world?

I understand that this more peaceful solution would take some practice, which is why we are discussing it now … and not next month. I know that, at first, anger will still be the first, “knee-jerk” response … but, if you begin to practice the more peaceful and healing prayer now, eventually it will become an automatic response. By the time the trial arrives, you will have become expert at it. And you will be consciously supporting a healing solution for everyone involved.

One thing is for sure … the mindful solution would advance you on your path toward ‘higher consciousness,’ which is the path you have repeatedly chosen to take in the past … where the anger and resentment are detours on that route that will land you right back where you started from.

The unseen advantage to this practice is that it extends to every situation and every stimulus that pushes your buttons … it is a universally-redeemable blank check to ease your troubled, conflicted spirit whenever you are being overcome by confusing emotions. So, once you have healed your feelings regarding Dr. Conrad Murray, you can begin to heal all those other annoying resentments that get under your skin and turn you away from the ‘expanded consciousness’ we are aiming toward.

As a result of his suggestion, many of us learned to visualize a healing solution. We swept away our own judgments and gave up our attachment to what we considered to be the “right” outcome.

In Installment #21, March 26 through April 2, 2011 [Volume 1, pp. 210-219], we refined our practice by visualizing “sweeping” away all the negativity in the courthouse (which also represented our own hearts) prior to the trial.

God Bless You, all … for opening your hearts … and for hearing my message so clearly through the words in these talks … and for resolving and committing yourself to helping me heal the world … starting right here in our own little family because that’s where all change begins. All of you have dedicated yourselves in some way to making this world a better, saner, more humane place for our children to inherit and I can’t thank you enough for your efforts.

I know it’s not easy for a lot of you because of your own feelings … and because of your busy lives … but I want all of you to know that I love you all from the bottom … from the abyss … of my heart and soul … for taking the time to hear my call and ‘sign on’ for this roller coaster ride of LOVE that we are beginning. What a ride it will be! I guarantee it! And you can take that to the bank.

Many of us who are not able to just drop their lives and travel from around the world to attend the first day of the trial want so badly to contribute to this effort, and you have shown us in our last conversation that all contributions are welcome. Even if our contribution consists of just sitting in our own homes and visualizing our own hearts being swept free of the cobwebs of negativity that drape the walls and ceiling and windows there, blocking the sunshine from enlightening the space. And even if we only send loving support to your family to strengthen them for the ordeal they face.

Just? Only? Just sitting in your homes and sending love to scaffold my mother and brothers and sisters and children … and trusting that God’s Plan will prevail? Do you still not realize how important that spiritual support is for my family and for the most beneficial outcome for all concerned? You, of all people, should know by now that spiritual support of this kind is exactly what we have been discussing and refining and explaining in every one of these conversations from the very first moment we had these thoughts and committed ourselves to writing them down and sharing them with those interested … until the present. That support that you call ‘just’ forms intention … and intention is the name of the game not only in the spiritual realms, but also in the physical.

There are a lot of folks out there, Beloved, who don’t believe that their thoughts and their prayers have any real effect on the ‘real world.’ How can we encourage them to put in the effort when they don’t see the affect their efforts have on reality?

We will show them how thoughts are the basis of the reality they see playing out in front of them every day. Nothing in this world of form and matter was ever created without someone, somewhere imagining it into being.

Men imagined for thousands of years what it would be like to walk on the moon, eventually figured out how to make it happen and all of us have seen it in our reality. Michelangelo saw the Pieta in the block of marble before that block ever left the quarry. With his ingenuity and hard work, he found his masterwork within the stone. No one, including God, ever created anything without first seeing it fully-formed in his mind’s eye, figuring out how to make it happen and going to work to make his vision a reality.

And

However, something that you may not have yet considered from your very limited viewpoint … and which is even more important than your personal success in anchoring the image you envisioned in your meditations in your own mind … is that you (and others like you all over the world) projected and anchored that image on the giant movie screen of the ‘collective unconscious’ of all my children who are attuned to the same frequency or spiritual vibration … and are joined in our symphony of purpose.

And

What other explanation is there for such an exact duplication in ‘visions’ between two people who have never met, live in widely-spaced parts of the country, who have never spoken on the phone and have corresponded extremely infrequently?

You’ve all been wondering how a thing like that can happen … what is causing this phenomenon you are all experiencing. There’s your answer. All of you … along with me … are creating a new ‘collective unconscious’ which is separate and distinct from the universal collective unconscious that the whole world shares in and which is destroying our world. Your loving thoughts are lining up to overcome the hateful thoughts that currently prevail. Your healing visualizations are riding out to engulf the world … beginning with the trial in Los Angeles … in a more peaceful and enlightened reality.

The planets are lining up.

They’re bringing brighter days.

It’s all in line waiting for you.

You’re just another part me

[Michael singing.] …

and we are sending out a MAJOR LOVE!

As a result of our prayers and visualizations, many of us experienced a less conflicted and more peaceful preparation for the trial in 2011. We supported each other in love and took a lot of the sting out of our anger, resentment, and vengeance. We supported our Beloved Michael’s family and we were on the ground during the trial with sunflowers as a visual representation of our solidarity for the world to see.

I believe that the same methods can be applied to the current crisis as we have applied in the past.

In Installment #25, April 23 through April 30, 2011 [Volume 1, pp 249-257], our Beloved Michael showed us that the loudness of the voices around us must not defeat us.

So? That just means your Celebration of LOVE needs to be more silent … more respectful and prayerful … you need to be even more firmly heaven-bent on sending out that major love.

Well, won’t their anger and loud demands for revenge overshadow our waves of love and support for you and your family?

[Michael giggles.] That’s a common misperception … people think they have to be louder than ‘the other guy’ … to out-shout them. There is no power on earth or in heaven strong enough to overshadow love. You know that! Just look at the example of my life … the controversies and accusations and trials and lies … the endless intrusion and invasions of privacy. Did my love get overshadowed by those events?

Perhaps, for some who don’t know you well, for a little while. But for those of us who know you, your love shines brighter than the sun and moon and stars … and always will! As a matter of fact, your love is reaching out from beyond to comfort those of us who are inconsolable … and attracting even more of us to your side every day. I’m always amazed by stories I hear of friends who watched This Is It, for example, a couple of weeks ago (almost two years after your rebirth) and they describe how they cried at the end. Then, they say, “I was never a big fan of Michael Jackson, but …” I just roll my eyes and laugh. You’ve been hit by … you’ve been struck by … A Smooth Criminal!”

Exactly! It may seem … on the ground … that the media is paying more attention to the anger and demands for justice … and you may begin to feel defeated … but don’t! That’s when you need to redouble the loving and healing and supportive energies you transmit.

It’s like a woman giving birth. Often she struggles through the labor and gets tired; there’s a reason they call it labor, but eventually, she makes a statement like, “I don’t think I can do this!” Up to that point it was pretty easy. But when they hear that statement, the doctors and nurses really go on red alert. They know that’s a sure sign that the birth is imminent and it is time for her to really get to work and start pushing.

This is the same kinda thing. Don’t be defeated … just re-focus your attention in love … and your intention in peace. Don’t let them interrupt the intensity of that laser beam. The faith and hope that you plant and sprout in front of the courthouse in Los Angeles may take root and germinate in someone’s heart watching on TV in Namibia or New Zealand … and bloom into a beautiful sunflower to rival the ones you are holding. You can’t know at this moment the repercussions that will radiate from this one event. Your example may change a life … it could even be the life standing right next to you in front of the courthouse with clenched fist raised heavenward.

But, Michael, what can we do to silence them so that, at least for this one day, your vision of fans gathered in unity, peace and loving remembrance can come true?

My vision has already come true! You and your friends have already created my vision in your visualizations and prayers. You have concentrated the most powerful tool you possess … your focus … on seeing it within your own universe. Furthermore, you have cemented it in your minds and hearts with your intentions to make it happen. Redirecting and refocusing that laser beam of attention from anger, resentment and a need to ‘make him pay,’ you have dedicated yourselves, your thoughts and your prayers to LOVE every day for more than a month, in your specific case … others have done so once a week. Whatever worked out best for you, it was more than you were doing before you committed yourselves to this vision. By taking a few minutes out of your day to sit quietly and commune with me with loving intent to fashion a healed world for yourself and your children to inhabit, you have fixed that vision in the new ‘collective unconscious’ we are creating … together. As more and more of you join that wave of LOVE, it grows more and more likely to manifest in your physical environment. Now, it is just a matter of time before that vision is reality. God bless all of you for your devotion … your friendship … your love … your understanding … and your determination to ensure that I am not forgotten and that my mission survives me.

However, I have to be honest with you here … you’ve forgotten to remain humble. You’ve fallen ass over appetite into the trap that lies in wait for all who try to take a higher road. Eventually, they all begin to see a distinction between their neighbors and themselves. They separate themselves into “Us” and “Them” and, of course, WE are better, more loving, more peaceful, more correct, more respectful … more something than they are. We hear the message more clearly. Our way is the only right way … the true way … until there is only one way because all the other ways are eradicated or converted … or killed.

We’re takin over;

we have the truth.

The final message

We bring to you.

Don’t point your finger …

Not dangerous.

This is our planet,You’re one of us.

[Michael sings.]

While we don’t really have a courthouse to sweep out, perhaps we could substitute sweeping out an empty movie theater with a darkened screen? Or better yet, one whose giant screen displays our Beloved Michael represented in glory?

As Michael tells us, “We have the truth.” That is our strength and our victory.

I, for one, cannot imagine our Loving Father/Mother would allow the effectiveness of the most beautiful cheerleader for Her love and truth to come along in a very long time to be buried beneath an unprofessional and unethical mountain of lies no matter how many times it is shown. I have absolute faith that the TRUTH of all the good our Beloved Michael did in this world during his physical life … and continues to do even now … must defeat lies propagated by filmmakers and networks who continuously display a callous disregard for the facts as proven in a court of law and over ten years of in depth investigation by social service and law enforcement agencies.

I, personally, will commit to visualizing our Beloved Michael in triumph over this latest threat without attachment to how that vision will be made manifest. Who will join me?”

— J. Carlson, WP.

[kashimos-hajime]

Social Justice

Request: could you do a peter kavinsky x reader imagine where everyone in the school knows your Peter's, so they don't even dare try hitting on you, except this one guy does it so often that Peter just gets so angry. But instead of yelling at him in a angry manner, Peter confronts him with such sarcasm and calmness that it ends up scaring the guy away? yeah idk? something like that i guess...

A/N: Hope I do you justice, anon!

As always, thank you @teawithbucky​ for giving this a read over before I let you all read it.

Masterlist and Taglist are in my bio!

Summary: When a new student threatens the power couple of high school, you and Peter Kavinsky firmly put him back in his place with a proper verbal smack down.

Characters: Peter Kavinsky

Wordcount: 1.7k

Rating: T (swearing, one slap, sexual harrassment, strong feminist views because I can’t help myself and I love writing a strong Reader)

You grab your what-was-once-hot coffee and sigh, raking your gaze over the stack of textbooks in your locker. It’s lunch (finally) and you’re exhausted.

“Hey, babe,” Peter greets, sneaking up behind you with his hands on your hips. Not paying him any mind, you cast a doubtful look at the chemistry textbook, wondering if you should study during lunch.

“How was the chem test?” you ask and he plucks the takeaway coffee cup from your hand. He quickly presses a kiss to your neck before taking a sip of your coffee. Making a face, he swallows painfully and you try to stifle a smile.

“It was pretty easy. You should be good to go for tomorrow.” He heads down the hall to throw away the cup as you nod to yourself. That means less work for you. Closing your locker, you smile at your boyfriend. He always has a habit of making you smile even when all you want to do is frown so much that the lines become permanently engraved on your face. Adjusting your backpack, you sneak an arm around his waist as he tosses one around your shoulders, bringing you close.

“Wanna get some subs?” Shrugging, you push open the school doors just as someone calls your name.

“(Y/N)! Hey!” Turning around, you feel Peter’s arm fall away as you spot Thomas Callaway who’d been assigned as your chem partner since the new seating arrangement had taken place. Also a new student, you’d been assigned as his tour guide for his first month. “Hey.”  

“Thomas, hey.” Smiling, you brush a piece of hair behind your ear as Peter grabs your free hand, kissing your temple. “Do you need something?”

“Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the movies? See the new Shades of Grey movie?” He has a smirk on his face but you, knowing that every Thursday means a chill night with Peter, shake your head.

“Sorry, I have plans.” With one last (not so) apologetic look, you and your boyfriend turn around and he reaches for the door when Thomas calls out again.

“How about lunch? We can ditch the afternoon.”

“I’m gonna get subs with Peter,” you say and Thomas’ eyes go to the taller Peter Kavinsky who has an indifferent expression directed down at him.

“Right. Is that even allowed?”

“As long as you don’t tell,” you say flatly. “Can you find your way to the cafeteria?”

He stutters for a moment, at a loss for words before uttering, “Yeah. Uh, maybe next time?” You shrug and then the two of you turn. Tossing a glance over your shoulder, you offer a forced smile.

“Yeah, next time.”

As the two of you leave the high school, Peter lets go of your hand and resumes the arm around your shoulder.

“Who was that?” he asks, acting disinterested. Knowing he’s only trying to act aloof, you nudge him in the ribs.

“My new chem partner. Play nice for now.”

“If he doesn’t stop flirting with you, I might have to mark my territory,” he mumbles with a hot glare and you laugh, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I don’t like him either.” He tilts your chin up, pressing a full kiss against your mouth. Pushing back, you wrinkle your nose when he pulls away first. “Come on. We needa get back in time.” Tugging your hand, the two of you start in a run towards the Subway down the block.

.

As the month goes on, you find yourself more short-tempered and annoyed than a usual first month back. Normally September’s weather makes you all calm and happy, but with Thomas Callaway as your parasite, you find yourself being unable to be anything but.

It started out fine. Little proposals to hang out, to study, and then it became outrageous.

“Hey, good lookin’.”

“If your name came up in ‘Smash or Pass’, I’d full on smash.”

“Your ass in jeans shouldn’t be legal.”

Let’s just say Peter’s temper matched yours whenever the two of you saw him. To say the most popular couple in school is on a warpath is an understatement. Although the both of you are well respected in your own right, everyone knows to stay the fuck away from either of you. Every girl and guy has made a solidarity pact and everyone likes (or respects or fears) both you and Peter too much to so much as glance in the direction of your boobs and his dick.

Callaway just didn’t get the damn fucking memo.

As the date of homecoming approaches, you know that Peter will plan something elaborate to ask you out. Every year you feel the urge to tell him it doesn’t matter. He could ask you while you were in the middle of the exam and you’d still say yes. Not enthusiastically, but you would say yes. Unfortunately for you, that means that Thomas Callaway’s ‘suave’ flirtations doubled in amount.

As you stand at your locker during break, stuffing your notebook into your locker, you feel another presence hover over you.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Mentally preparing yourself, you pay Callaway no mind even when his breath puffs over your ear. “You got a date to homecoming? Because if you don’t...” He clicks his tongue and jabs a thumb towards himself. Rolling your eyes, you pause to calm yourself down before beginning to jam your textbook into your locker a lot harder than God intended.

“As I’ve told you a thousand times, I am going with Peter. I have been dating him since I have met you; that is not going to change, and I don’t want to go with anyone else.”

“Aw, come on. What does he have that I don’t?” Callaway asks, coming closer until his lips brush against your ear. Closing your eyes, you give him a count to three. You know people are staring and whispering, probably at how stupid this new guy is and when you give him two extra seconds and count to five, you’re wondering why you’re so merciful today. “Come on, baby, why don’t you bend over-”

“Woah!” Whirling around, you slap him hard across the face. He stumbles back as you storm up to him, digging a finger hard into his chest. “No. You don’t get to say that. You do not get to come to my locker, into my personal space, and insinuate things I don’t like, even after weeks of me saying no. You may have been able to push around other girls, make them feel uncomfortable, but let me tell you,” you chuckle, “you chose the wrong girl. I am not afraid to stand up to you. I am not afraid to make a scene. You have been sexually harassing me, even when I have calmly, firmly told you no. I have been forced to work with you because the school has told me to do so. You seem to mistake it for interest. I assure you. It is not. I loathe you. I despise you. And don’t think I won’t report you to the goddamn principal. You’re nasty.”

“You wonder what Peter Kavinsky has over you? A sense of what consent is near the top of the list,” you snap. “Leave me alone, Callaway.”

“Bitch,” he spits and you laugh facetiously. So he’s one of those people. “You’re probably one of those sluts who has him wrapped around your finger while you go off blowing all his friends.”

“Oh, don’t be one of those sad, sad guys. Calling me names because I hurt your little fragile ego? Slut-shaming? Really? I hope you grow up before you even think about asking another woman out again.” Slamming your locker closed, you turn to walk away when you see your boyfriend standing there with a slight smile on his face. A crowd has half-formed, students littering the halls in a semi-circle around you but you don’t care.

“You know, that wasn’t smart of you to piss her off like that,” Peter starts dangerously, walking forward and placing himself between you and Callaway. “Mostly because one, she can fucking kick your ass and two, she has a boyfriend who can probably bench press you right now if he wanted to.” Peeking around Peter, you see Callaway stare at you. “You know what else was a genius move of yours? Hitting on a girl who has a boyfriend.” Peter smiles blandly at the shorter guy as he takes a few paces up to him. “I’ve let it go, seeing as how you’re the new guy, but let me make one thing very, very clear. You come near her again outside the classroom again, and I don’t think you’ll like what happens to you, Thomas. You are not worth her time with how you act and what you say. Grow up, dude, seriously.”

Peter genuinely sounds disgusted and disappointed; so deeply so that it makes you chuckle and he glances back at you. He winks and you smirk as he turns back to Callaway.

“Go, man. Why are you still here? You’re just embarrassing yourself.” There’s a long moment where Callaway stares at you then drags his gaze back to Peter.

“Whatever. You’re not worth my time anyways. Skank.” You roll your eyes. What a classic tactic to bid for the last word. Name-calling. Cute.

“Uhm, bitch, you’re walking a fine line.” Peter crosses his arms over his chest and for a moment, there’s a long stare-off. “You’re dismissed, Callaway.” Another tense silence, then Callaway turns pushes through the crowd. “Let him through.”

“Alright guys, showdown is over. Let’s just get back to class,” you announce as Peter finally turns around with that wide smile you know is for you.

“I am so blessed that you’re my girl,” he whispers and you laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. “Honestly, I only wanted to step in for my two-cents but watching you verbally kick his ass was pretty great.”

“Well, now you’re making me blush,” you faux-swoon and he laughs, twirling you around. “Come on. Let’s get to class.” Pulling away, you extend your hand towards him and he takes it, swinging your arms as you walk to history.

“I love you.” Beaming from ear to ear, you feel your neck warm up as you stare at the tiles beneath your shoes.

“I love you, too.”

TAGS: @teawithbucky @shadowsndaisies @meemeehoelland

[thatbluegibson]

CH 90

"Elizabeth!"

She smiled brightly when the elevator door opened and revealed Bill Murray. It felt foreign to grin and she worried it might look like she was bearing her teeth at him, but he didn't give any indication she looked as disastrous as she felt.

"You look lovely!"

"Oh," she laughed softly and adjusted her white silk blouse atop a dark grey pencil skirt and black heels. "Thank you. Have to impress those investors!"

"That we do," he nodded and lead her down a hallway towards a conference room filled with the people that were hopefully going to agree to fund their little movie. "Ready? Big smiles and... here we go!"

*

Liz shifted in her uncomfortable office chair, staring down at the script in her hands while she and Bill worked through their lines. She tried to pay attention to Bill's monologue but was struggling to focus. It had been almost four days since she had asked Dave to leave and was profoundly grateful for any distraction that took her mind off of him. Jack had started school the day before, Owen was at a playgroup with Travis and she only had three more hours until she could change into her sweats, open a beer and cook dinner for her kids. She told Travis that she was handling the break up better than she had anticipated but was only doing an okay job believing that lie herself. It was helpful that she was living somewhere new where memories of him didn't linger when she crossed a room or rested her head on a pillow, but she missed him so much that she actually texted Ally for an update during her lunch break.

He's fine, a terse reply compared to her usual emoji-filled paragraphs.

That's it? Just fine?

There was a five-minute, anxiety-filled wait before her reply came and Liz actually whimpered when she saw the picture of Dave huddled under a blanket on Ally and Taylor's couch with a beer in his hands. He looked awful.

He's been here for three days, Liz. Help me. My upholstery can't take much more.

I'll call him tonight, Al. Liz frowned as she tapped out the text, she didn't even know what she was going to say to him. "Goddamnit, Dave," she whispered and flipped her phone to silent before heading back into the conference room.

*

When the meeting ended, Liz and Bill mingled among the investors in an attempt to charm their way into financial solvency while answering as many questions as they could about filming locations, supporting actors and potential release dates. Liz was trying to fend off a particularly flirty investor's request for a date when her manager Sophie delicately interrupted.

"So sorry," she said softly, her accent making Liz miss England terribly. "Could I borrow you for a moment, Elizabeth?"

"Yes, of course," Liz followed her out into the hallway and slumped against the wall. "Thanks, Soph. That guy was the worst."

"Liz, Jack's school called. Seems he took a tumble on the playground and-"

*

She didn't wait for the car to stop behind the fire truck before kicking the door open with her heel and running out. The principal met her at the front door with a look of pure terror on his face. "It's his leg, Ms. Colbert... The medics are looking at him right no-"

"Where is he?" she demanded. He was probably terrified, sitting in some sterile school nurse's office surrounded by panicked adults he didn't know and in horrible pain. Her poor baby.

"Through here..."

She elbowed her way through the crowd of firefighters, EMTs, and concerned school employees and found Jack on a bench, his right leg stretched across the blue vinyl with an ice pack over his ankle. There was no sign of tears, panic or fear on his face, just his sweet giggle as Dave sat on the floor in front of him, showing him a video on his phone.

Liz had to take a moment to register that he was there and gently laid her hand on his shoulder when she dropped to her knees next to him, unsure of how else to go about it. He tried to stand, but she tightened her grip in a silent plea for him to stay and he settled back on the linoleum.

"Oh sweetie, what happened?" she asked Jack, reaching out to hold his face with her free hand.

"I thought I could jump from one side of the monkey bars to the other, but I can't. I think I need to practice."

Both Liz and Dave shared the universal parenting look of 'yeah right, dude'. "No, buddy. No more jumping off of anything taller than you, okay?" Dave said softly.

"Miss?" an annoyed looking EMT shoved a clipboard in Liz's face and tapped it with a pen. "You need to sign here if we aren't going to take him."

She stood and took the clipboard, trying to read over the legal type while Dave kept Jack entertained with the story of his own broken leg. "Dave?" she asked, suddenly feeling completely overwhelmed and lost. "Do you think he needs to take the ambulance?"

He looked up at her for a moment and she could tell he was thinking hard about something when he shook his head. "No, I can drive you guys if it's cool with you."

The decision made, she scribbled her name and shoved the clipboard back at the EMT while Dave carefully lifted Jack into his arms. "All right, buddy. Let's go get you fixed up."

She followed them out to a black pickup, alarmingly similar to her own and situated Jack in the backseat while Dave made a phone call, apparently to Jordyn asking her to pick up the girls from school. Liz wasn't proud of it, but she was absolutely eavesdropping.

"She's okay... Yeah... He'll be fine... It went great. No cavities. She's ready for the braces whenever we are... Yeah, I'll just write them a check. Thanks, Jordyn... I will."

He climbed into the driver's seat of the truck and tossed his phone into the console before looking back at Jack. "Ready to roll, dude?"

Jack gave him a thumbs up and grinned as if the bones in his leg weren't shattered. "Can we listen to that band?"

Dave smiled at him through the rear view mirror and hit a couple buttons on the steering wheel before Greta Van Fleet floated through the speakers. "Cedars?" he asked and it took Liz a moment to realize he was asking about a hospital and not a tree.

"Uh... yeah. Sure," she shrugged, not knowing anything about the hospitals around LA and once again just trusted his judgment. It didn't even occur to her to ask why he was at Jack's school until they were several blocks away. "Wait... how did you... why were you there?" Had she put him down as an emergency contact back when she had enrolled him?

"The girls go to school there, too," he said simply and leaned forward so he could look past her out the window. "I was dropping Harper off after a dentist appointment and happened to be standing there when they carried him in."

"Mommy, the fireman told me I was their first visit there this year!" Jack called from the back seat.

"Lord," she sighed heavily and slumped back in her seat. "Let's hope you're the last, too."

*

A nurse wheeled an excited Jack out of their little room in the emergency department headed for x-ray while Liz nervously yanked her phone free from her purse to text Travis. The doctor needed some images to be sure, but he was convinced Jack would need an immediate surgery that involved pins and screws and things that Liz just couldn't even wrap her brain around at the moment.

"So is being accident prone a genetic thing with you or...?" Dave finally asked and Liz couldn't help but giggle at the grin on his face.

"I guess," she shrugged. "You caught us in one hell of a year, man," she laughed and blew an errant curl out of her eyes.

She watched him carefully as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "You look nice," he said quietly.

"I was at an investor meeting with Murray," she explained. "I thought I better give my Vans a break if I'm gonna beg people for money."

He nodded a little, never taking his eyes off her face.

"Was Jack totally freaked out when they carried him in?" she asked suddenly, feeling awkward under his stare.

"Not really. There were some tears out on the playground, but he was fine once he saw me. I think he was more pissed off that they cut his recess short."

"God, I'm so glad you were there, Dave" she sighed and absentmindedly laid her hand on his back. It had taken her almost a half an hour to get to the school and who knows how long it took for them to even call her, so Jack could have been alone for up to an hour if it wasn't for Dave. And she would be alone now if he hadn't offered to drive them... "I'm glad you're here now, too," she added.  

He gave her a sad smile but remained silent when the doctor returned with Jack and pulled Liz aside to give her the news.

*

"You're gonna get a little mask like this," Dave explained and held up an oxygen mask to show a nervous Jack. "Then you take a couple deep breaths and oingo boingo, you're taking a nap!"

Jack burst out laughing and Dave glanced over at Liz when she started giggling too.

"Oingo boingo!" Jack repeated and fell back against his pillow in hysterical laughter.

"All set!" a nurse broke their moment and kicked the brakes off of Jack's bed while Liz frantically kissed her son as much as she could.

"I love you, sweetheart. I'll be right there when you wake up and...." she couldn't finish with how fast the nurse was wheeling Jack away and Dave had to tell himself to stand back, that she could handle this in her own way. She wasn't his to comfort anymore anyway.

It wasn't until her legs buckled and she went to reach for the wall or a table or anything that could keep her upright that he ran to her. He tried not to overthink how she felt in his arms again, but she was holding him so tightly...

"It's okay, Liz," he assured her. "He's okay."

"That's my baby though," she cried into his shoulder. "He's never had surgery before. What if he wakes up and I'm not there or-"

"Trust me, Liz. He's okay. He's going to need you to have your shit together when he gets out, though so-," he was interrupted by Liz's phone ringing and was surprised to hear his version of "Band on the Run" had replaced "Over the Hills and Far Away" as her ringtone.

"Christ," she whispered in irritation and swiped the phone. "Hey, Ky-"

She immediately pulled the phone from her ear when Kyle's screaming startled her and Dave had the almost overwhelming urge to take her phone and yell right back at him. She was already at her breaking point, the last thing she needed was her ex-husband berating her for something that was completely out of her control, but she steadied herself in his arms, squared her shoulders and dropped her voice to a dangerous whisper.

"Kyle, our son is in surgery. He needs three screws and two pins to correct the break and I cannot deal with your bullshit on top of all of this right now. I'll call you back when-...," Dave clenched his teeth when he distinctly heard Kyle say his name, but Liz protectively leaned into his chest and snapped into the phone, "Well dear, maybe if you weren't in a goddamn lockdown facility for six months because you can't follow the fucking rules, you would be here too. And honestly, Kyle? I need him here with me. I'll text you once Jack is out of surgery. Goodbye."

Dave waited until she had ended the call, flipped her phone to silent and shoved it back in her purse before stepping back a little. He tried not to read too far into her 'needing him' comment, but he kept one arm tight around her shoulders. "Come on, Mama Bear. Let's feed you before you start attacking innocent bystanders."

[kingkadence]

Aaa I had someone ask me the same question and I realized after reading people's posts that being 'anti' about a ship is different than just not liking a ship, 'anti' means you think its morally reprehensible or something and 'antis' are known for judging and attacking people over ships. I was using the anti label up until about a month ago but dropped it as soon as I figured that out. I guess the term for just not liking a ship is notp?

Here! Is basic guide to not liking a ship (all my opinions based on what I’ve read, y’all r free to think what you’d like)

Lvl 1 - “disliking a ship”

You see content for a ship, might make you uncomfortable or put you in a bad mood. Maybe you don’t have a particular reason, you may just not be fond of it. Or hey! Maybe you just never thought of the characters seeing each other that way. Most of the time you see it, it’s new, it’s foreign, and you just never imagined them together. With this, it’s common that after a while of exposure you might even like it after a while! Or even just have a neutral opinion. Ur dislike isn’t too serious, you don’t talk about it unless someone brings it up, you’ll scroll, you mind ya own.

Lvl 2 - notp

You see it and it makes you… hhhh internally. If someone posts this you might scroll or even go as far as muting posts or unfollowing. The ship described in one word for u is just “No.” for whatever reason it may be. It might be because you don’t like the character the other is paired with, you might think that the fan base behind the ship is gross, you might just hate both character but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who knows. Your resentment goes deep, and if you see someone post this kind of stuff, you will surely avoid it. You’ll go on a rant on how much you hate it if someone brings it up, not one that’s offensive, you’re just passionate with the hate you have for this ship. You might make bash edits or amvs of them. If a mutual posts this ship, you may grumble, you might say “I don’t ship this but the content is nice” ((heads up pls don’t do that it’s annoying and destructive to content creators))

Lvl 3 - ship hate

Definitely hitting a radical status but not there yet. It’s toxic, let’s just put it that way. You may not like the ship because it gets in the way of your otp, to you it may seemed forced in canon writing, you may even go as far as to say the ship is abusive, who knows it might be, but harassing other ppl over it,, isn’t abusive behaviour??? Lol ok. Anyway, you may have an account dedicated to how much you don’t like it, you will bring it up to people constantly to the point where others might say hey,,,, chill dude. You are VERY active in the discourse tag, you are sure to write your own opinions, very passionate, but very pushy. You may even comment on ships saying “ew gross, x ship for life!!” and you probably got into a fight in the comments at least once. You see an account post it, you block them. A mutual? You are VERY tempted to unfollow, if you haven’t already.

Lvl 4 - anti

This,,,, just oof,, you think the ship is LEGALLY an issue, very morally wrong or you just fucking hate the hell out of it bc it gets in the way of your ship and you’re grasping at straws to say why it’s toxic. (I actually was internally an anti for a while when I was like idk 14, suffered bhad from these symptoms, fun fact) you will go out of your way to voice your opinion, you will purposely message people telling them they’re disgusting calling them names, not even really justifying why it’s bad?? Telling ppl they’re fucked up……… doesn’t let ppl know why they’re fucked up but I mean go off. Anyway, you DEFINITELY have thought about running a hate account, you post other people’s art and content without crediting them, and proceed to hate on the content. Whenever the fandom is brought up you cannot CONTAIN your hatred for whatever discourse is going on. Let’s face it whatever resentment u got, it’s MUCH more chaotic than the love you have for your ship. Just down right negative all around. Explosive, unstable, if you don’t harass the people in the fandom, making them unsafe. (ie: sending gore pictures, death threats, making them and their followers WILDLY uncomfortable) you send it to the creators! You threaten the lives of people who make the show, you are disruptive, and literally have no personal boundaries, and you don’t give a shit about the writing, the plot, the developing of characters. You want your ship, or rather, you DON’T want other ships. To the point where human lives clearly don’t,,, matter to you????????? But cartoon ones do are you GOOD

(Imma do this one bc sometimes it’s okay to not like a ship!)

BONUS LVL - activist shipper

You don’t like this ship because it’s ACTUALLY hurtful and not because a ship is getting in the way (*ncest, p*dophillia, genuine abuse between these characters in canon etc) commonly antis will think they’re apart of this group, or this group will think they’re antis. Nnnno!pe! It is TOTALLY ok to dislike/hate these ships and think it’s insensitive to post things like this that may actually hurt people. I’m not gonna SAY which ships but if you’re shipping a 25 year old with a 10 year old,,,,,,,, u rlly gotta think,, about ur moral compass. ESPECIALLY if you’re sexualizing kids in your content. These people are commonly in discourse, but they voice why it’s bad, they voice their opinions RESPECTFULLY. Because AS SOON as you tell someone to die ur rlly pushing it. These people are here to educate, they’re not here to hurt. They want people to learn and grow and know what’s harmful and what’s not. They might get into an argument, nothing might change, but they’re happy knowing that they’re fighting for people who have been hurt bc of these topics and they’re not comfortable being silent about it.

-

Let me tell you, it’s ay okay to dislike and hate a ship. But don’t let it consume you, just like how you shouldn’t let ur otp consume you?? And if you see GENUINE bad happening in a fandom don’t be afraid to speak up, but be MINDFUL, RESPECTFUL, AND EMPATHETIC!! I am not on board with some of the ships ppl post but telling someone to die isn’t gonna help them learn what they’re doing is wrong. And if you don’t think you can PROPERLY TELL SOMEONE hey this content is hurtful, maybe,,,,,,, get someone else to do it,,,,,,, bc ur literally being just as harmful.

((Also while I’m on my soap box stop shipping abusive wlw/mlm JUST because they’re gay,,, that’s xtremely fetishy,, and as a gay guy I don’t approve :/))

Anyway, take this or leave this, just what I think

[sunkissis]

As we have come upon our year and a half anniversary of moving to Paris, we have noticed many comparisons from living in Los Angeles versus Paris. I’d like to share the ones that I find challenging and downright ridiculous.

The biggest one is life without a car. In LA, we spent so much time in our cars and that it created an insulated feeling. In my twenty plus years of driving in LA, I’ve rarely had to deal with public transportation. Things like worrying about being pickpocketed, or having a man stand too close to me weren’t an issue. If it’s hot or cold outside, there’s air conditioning or a heater to keep you comfy. Life in Paris means you have to be prepared for the weather and many times that means dealing with a hot, crowded bus or giving up all personal space. One the flip side, I do love that our family spends more time together going for walks, or renting scooters for the weekend to explore new neighborhoods (and mostly Invader hunt).

It has been freeing to not spend so much time stuck in miserable traffic.

These new Jump bikes by Uber just appears on the streets and we love them. The bikes are electric so you coast along. The two issues with them is you have to use the Uber app to rent them and I am the only one with an account so I can only rent one bike at a time. They are also more expensive than renting a scooter so we don’t use them often.

Spending a day riding a bike would be tortue in Los Angeles because of barking dogs, very few bike lanes and brutal hills. In LA, many people would have dogs as guards so you can’t walk down the street without getting barked at. Since people don’t have yards here, dogs are kept as pets and are trained so well that they don’t need leashes. I was amazed at how you don’t hear incessant barking here.

  It feels like French people have a better quality of life because they go outside more. They are used to sharing their space because people don’t have their own private backyards so they go to public parks. The French are more inclined to help someone because it’s the right thing to do, rather than just being a bystander.

That being said, there are rude, overly aggressive drivers and motorcycle riders that make it dangerous to walk on the streets at times. Jaywalking is law here, you never wait for the light to change and most times when cars are stuck in traffic and they are blocking the crosswalk, after the light changes, they still drive against a red light even if you are walking. Then they shout at you and throw their hands up in frustration as if walking on the green light is somehow the wrong thing to do. It’s annoying as hell.

A majority of Parisians live in apartments so the lovely old buildings all share garbage bins. Our building has about 12 units (2 on each floor) so that’s a ton of garbage. But the trash is collected everyday except Sunday. There are two trucks that come by for regular trash and glass bottles. It was hard to get used to the daily traffic jam on our tiny one-way street as the trash truck slowly collects all the bins at 5pm. It’s incredible to me that a building with 12 apartments have as many bins as we had for our small house in LA!

Which leads me to one of the biggest annoyances about living abroad. We rented our apartment from an English speaking rental agency. Along with two months deposit we paid a hefty 6% agency fee. The apartment manager, who handles repairs, apartment issues and acts as a liason to the person that owns our apartment, is absolutely savage. She speaks English but for some reason only communicates by email in French.  We have been waiting to have our interphone (the phone that allows you to buzz people into the building) repaired since May 2018!!

  Little did I know (I admit, I was too enamored with renting a dreamy apartment in the perfect location in Paris) that I didn’t think to ask about the building itself. We don’t have a gardienne which is someone who lives and works in the building to take care of the upkeep and renter matters (collect deliveries, deal with broken things outside of the apartment, helps you if you get locked out)

Similar to Mme. Madeleine in Amelie

We moved in without any info on what to do when a package is delivered, so I learned the hard way by going to three different post offices looking for my package that most deliveries in Paris are dropped off at a nearby shop that have a sticker on the door that says Chronopost. For our first year here, this shop was in front of our building and even though they were terribly disorganized, we got to know the shop owners and it wasn’t too difficult to find our packages. Then suddenly the shop closed and a new  business moved in that didn’t accept Chronopost packages. I asked our kind neighbor where to pick up deliveries but he didn’t know. Most times, I get an email or text with an address of where to pick up my package. It’s usually in walking distance but sometimes it’s a long bus ride away. Not so convenient for me and it would be wonderful to have someone in the building that can accept our packages. I should add, we pay a monthly building fee to cover the trash, water and elevator costs, yet when our building’s front door was broken, we were locked out for ages with no one to contact to let us in. The door was repaired and everyone got a new key but I paid for an extra key and I’ve been waiting for about three months and still no new key. There was also a time when the building was having work done to the exterior and the electricity was out in the stairwell. It was pitch dark and it was the first time I felt scared in the building. I wish I could go back in time and had the girls who checked us in the rental explain the building procedures, who to call in an emergency, what the trash policy was (we didn’t know which bin was for recycling) and how to handle deliveries. It’s all very figure it out yourself here but God help you if you make a mistake! If I had the legal right to work here, I would be the concierge of our building since I’ve home most of the day (would love a discount on our rent) but the language barrier would be too difficult.

French people I have encountered are either extremely kind and helpful or short and rude. That is my personal experience, not making a generalization. For example, we were at the parc de la Villette which is a huge park along the canals which have cute boat rentals. We saw a kiosk of  park employees so we asked them where can we rent the boats. Her response (and keep in mind, Liv asked in French) “Over there” while vaguely pointing to the empty canal sidewalk with nothing there. I asked Liv to ask her to clarify where she meant. She merely repeated herself. So we walked over to the only thing she could have meant which was a sign post on the empty canal path.

We figured if we waited there maybe a boat would come along and we could inquire about renting it, yet all the boats were on the north side of the bridge and we were waiting on the southside with no boats in sight. After waiting for 15 minutes we gave up. I also remember during a flight to Amsterdam on Air France, we left the gate late so I was concerned about making our connecting flight to Tokyo which was a fast 40 minute window. Since we were already late, I asked the flight attendant when would we be arriving? He looked me dead in the eye and said “The usual time!” and walked off in a huff. We ended up having to sprint through the airport and beg to cut the line in security to make our net flight. This is the French way, employees do not make it a habit to provide customer service of any kind. It’s so frustrating because of course we Americans are used to “the customer is always right” attitude but I am well aware, this is not America and I need to adapt not the other way around. I just try to be patient and not lose my temper. Olivia is a Godsend because once people hear how good her French is, they quickly change their tune and usually are more inclined to help. It sadly hasn’t been the case with our apartment manager.

I crack my Mom and bff, Aimee up with my horror stories of how I get treated by people here. The joke here is you can’t ask for help but God help you if you don’t know the rules. I try to take it in good humor but there are times (remember the La Redoute mattress fiasco?) when I don’t think I can stand another minute of the abuse and I lose my shit.

This was the car I rented this summer when we hosted our friends from Finland. I asked for a car to seat six and this is what they had. However, they sent me to the basement to pick up this beast and as you can see I wasn’t fitting in the doors. Luckily I was able to ask a guy washing cars to pull it out for me but it’s things like this that drive me crazy. In LA, whenever I rented a car the people at the rental agency would bring the car out to me. Spoiled I suppose. The guy at the rental place also called me to pick up the car early which I gladly obliged. Then as I was checking out he tried to add an extra day charge on the car because I was returning it after 3pm. I tried to explain calmly, that he asked me to come pick the car up early but I still needed to return it at the time I requested. What kind of logic is that?!

Yet, the coin always has another side. There are so many delightful advantages to living in France. Things I never really appreciated in LA, like the architecture. I know everyone thinks California is so beautiful and it is, but it has thousands of beige, stucco strip malls full of tacky signage and billboards on every corner. I liken LA to the internet, you really appreciate websites without annoying ads plastered all over the page (yep, WordPress has ads all over my blog now 😦 ) so when you find a clean, advertisement-free place it’s so pleasant.

It’s still my favorite thing just walking around and looking at the (non-neon) signage of Paris.

The French are well known for their amazing cheese, wine and universal health-care. Yet our latest experience has me scratching my head. Now keep in mind, we are American citizens with the good fortune to live here on a long stay tourist visa, so we pay for our own health insurance policy from America. Which means we pay out of pocket and can submit a claim with our insurance (but with the large deductible, we don’t) so obviously it’s not as expensive as we would pay in LA but we took Liv to the doctor for her annual check up and wanted to make sure all her vaccinations were up to date before school started. Since we went sure of what the French school system required, we asked the doctor for an update. He spoke French and had a medical student with him during the exam. They did the basics, checked her heartbeat, measured her height and weight. We asked about an issue she had with her ear but he needed more info from her pediatrician in LA so I had to email him later. He told us, she was up to date on her shots until she was about 12 years old and that was it. €75 to listen to her heart and tell us she’s tall and healthy. I was pretty stunned that we were charged that much for nothing. Well, hopefully next year we will be able to apply for French healthcare so we shouldn’t have to pay so much in the future. Thank goodness we don’t get sick often (knocks on wood)!

  Funny story, last week we were coming from an appointment with our immigration lawyer and Liv and I took a scooter home. We were ahead of Antz who happened to notice a woman on the street looking at us with recognition. He knew she looked familiar so he asked her if she knew us. Turns it she was Liv’s second grade teacher from her French school in LA! She moved back to Paris and was teaching and she saw us riding by on our scooter. Antz texted me to come back and we took this photo. She was impressed by Liv’s French and so excited that we were living our dream in Paris.

And lastly, I get it guys, I count my blessings everyday I am here. It is a dream come true. Please don’t think I have some entitled, bratty, close-minded attitude when it comes to living abroad. I am completely open to new culture, new ways of doing things and having an adaptable mind. I just want to be transparent and share some idiosyncrasies that I have encountered.

Do you have any tales to share about life in a foreign country?

France still has the prettiest cleaning supplies.

  Paris Life Observations As we have come upon our year and a half anniversary of moving to Paris, we have noticed many comparisons from living in Los Angeles versus Paris.

[russellthornton]

How to Get Rid of a Stalker: 14 Steps to Banish Them for Good

If you feel someone follows you online or in person, this is the behavior of a stalker. If this is the case, you need to know how to get rid of a stalker.

You may think having a stalker is some sort of symbol for being hot and desirable, but listen, this isn’t a joke. Learn how to get rid of a stalker and stay safe.

I had a stalker in high school. He would call me all the time, follow me around school, though I thought it wasn’t a big deal, in reality, this is actually a form of stalking. I didn’t feel safe and if your safety is ever in question then this isn’t a game. You don’t want it to get to the point where you have to change your number, move, or quit your job.

How to get rid of a stalker

I know, in Hollywood, if the guy’s hot they allow the stalking to be portrayed as him being protective and manly, but come on. In reality, regardless if he looks like a supermodel, creepy is creepy. I once went on a date where the guy said, “he’ll never let me go.” Though this could be taken as some sign of affection, he called me a hundred times after. I saw him as being a potential stalker.

So, keep your eyes open. If you already have someone stalking you or becoming an issue, you must handle it as soon as possible. Stalking is not sexy, it’s creepy.

#1 Are you in immediate danger? If even for one second you feel that your life is threatened, call the police. Use your pepper spray, run away, and call the police. This is your life, you must protect yourself at all costs. So, when in doubt, act fast. There are different types of stalkers. Honestly, you don’t want to take the chance that they “might” do something. [Read: 10 crucial steps to boundaries that make you feel more in control]

#2 Tell your friends, family, and employer. Everyone around you needs to know about this stalker. If you have a photo of them, send it to your friends, family, and employer. You need to make sure that everyone around you knows who this person is. If you want to know how to get rid of a stalker, you need to understand that stalkers are manipulative, so they may try to go through people close to you in order to get to you. [Read: The unhealthy effects of falling madly in obsessive love]

#3 Try to not travel alone for a while. You may feel caged in and your freedom of movement restricted. However, in this case, it needs to be done. Make sure, whenever possible, you have someone who walks with you when you’re out during the day/evening. This doesn’t have to be a forever thing, but it does have to happen until this situation is cleared up.

#4 Record everything! This is the most important thing you can do for yourself when you’re trying to figure out how to get rid of a stalker. Compile as much evidence as possible showing that this person stalks you. The more evidence you have, the better chance they can be charged with harassment. Build up a case for yourself. Keep all texts, photos, and call logs. If they leave gifts at your house, do not accept them. However, make a note of it.

#5 Switch up your daily routine. Trust me, they know what you do every day. They know where you go to the gym and who you meet up for coffee with. You need to switch up your daily routine. Do not go to your regular spots, at all. Switch gyms, eat lunch somewhere else, and if you go out on a Saturday night, try a new bar.

#6 Watch out for social media. Is your profile on Facebook public? Change it. Make sure you make all your social media profiles as limited as possible. If you share mutual friends with the stalker, make sure you limit their visibility to your social media. Block the stalker from everything and do not accept any friendships from unknown accounts. [Read: The good, the bad, and the ugly of social media]

#7 Try to ignore them. They’re going to try to get your attention constantly. They try different methods to see which one is more effective, but you need to ignore them. The only time you should speak to them is if they physically approach you. Tell them you’ll contact the police if they continue.

#8 Is your home properly protected? I don’t want to scare you, but is your home properly protected? If this stalker is coming near your personal space, install cameras, lights, and make sure your doors and windows are properly secure. If you have a dog, even better. If you live in an apartment, make sure your building manager is aware of the stalker.

#9 If they talk to you, make your demands known. If they come up to you and start speaking to you, you need to be firm. Do not let them intimidate or manipulate you, because they’ll try. When they approach you, be firm and tell them that you do not want them to contact you and if they do, you will contact the police.

#10 Live somewhere else for a while. There’s nothing wrong with living with your parents or a friend’s house for a while. Just make sure the stalker doesn’t know or can’t find out where they live. This isn’t permanent. But if you feel danger, this helps you sleep at night. If you change your contact information at the same time, it’s a perfect transition. [Read: 11 glaring clues of a stalker you need to watch out for]

#11 Always have a back-up plan. Whether it’s for work or home, have an escape plan. If you’re walking in a parking garage alone, you need to think of ways to get out asap. If they break into your house and you’re upstairs, how are you going to get out? I’m not trying to freak you out, but I’m being honest with you. You really don’t know what they’re capable of.

#12 Take legal measures. Do not be afraid to request a restraining order or call the police. Though a restraining order does not put them behind bars *for now*, it does show you have legal support. If this person goes against the law, they’ll have legal consequences to adhere to.

#13 Make sure you carry pepper spray with you. Sometimes, you’ll have to walk home or to your car alone. I get it, you won’t always be able to have someone by your side. In these cases, you need to make sure you’re properly protected.

Pepper spray is very reliable, make sure when you’re alone you carry it in your hand. If you don’t have pepper spray you can rub their eyes with chili flakes. The point is, you need to make sure you distract them long enough to run away. [Read: How to tell someone to leave you alone]

#14 Change your contact information. I know this is an annoying thing to do, but if they continue to call you, change your number. When you do this, make sure they also don’t know where you live. If they know where you live, they’ll come to you.

Think about it, if you change your number, they can no longer contact you. Obviously, they won’t be happy. But you need to do this. However, when you do this, stay away from places where they know you usually go.

[Read: Why your stalker’s addiction to you is not love]

Now that you know how to get rid of a stalker, you need to take immediate steps in making sure you’re safe. Getting rid of a stalker won’t be that easy. However, you need to feel free and safe.

The post How to Get Rid of a Stalker: 14 Steps to Banish Them for Good is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.

[sniper-woof]

Tag Game

Tagged by: @itsnotloveifitsjust 

Rules:

1. Always post the rules

2. Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you

3. Write 11 questions of your own

4. TAG PEOPLE  [or not, we know how it works]

1. Which three colours would you use to describe yourself as a person (or, if you’d rather, which three do you think your loved ones would use to describe you)?

blue - pink - gray

2. If your government decided to extend the week by adding an extra day and you were given the task of naming it, what would you call it? (Let’s say the extra day is added onto the weekend, so there are five working days and three weekend days)

THIS NEEDS TO BE A THING. Uhhh i’m not sure maybe Moonday? like, right before Sunday????

3. What’s the stupidest, most redundant, most unnecessary and uncalled for (that you didn’t even need to tell) lie you’ve ever told (and why)?

OH LORD, STORY TIME (SORRY FOR LENGTH BUT I HAVE TO)

Idk if other countries do this but here we have the custom of making this cool trip by the end of junior year of hs to a different country or city for a few days, you go with your entire grade + some teachers and just have fun! Me and my class went to Dominican Republic and it was great. Gorgeous beaches and islands, scuba diving, resort with food and bars open 24/7… It was heaven. (there even was a bar in the pool like omg?) Ok so, the legal age for drinking here is 18—which most of us were—so naturally we spent quite a lot of time taking advantage of the free drinks. Unlimited alcohol + irresponsible teens + very little supervision (resort too big to keep track of everyone)… Not exactly the best combination haha. That year I kinda broke ties with all the girls in my class(yikes) and my guy friends were aaall too busy hitting on the hot bikini girls so i mostly just hung out with the general group and made conversation with random people. 

Night before we left home I was on this cart that took u to the disco w 2 other chicks when these 3 austrian guys got in, they were p cool and friendly so we stuck w them when we got there. At some point the chicks left to meet with their boyfriends and it was just me and the 3 guys. From here on my memories are p blurry so i can only remember flashes:

-Me dancing with the three dudes. -Me dancing with only one (where did the others go???) -Dude buying me drinks. (booze costed money at the disco) -Me and guy hanging with ppl from my class at the beach (how did we get there???) -Me and guy suddenly by ourselves walking down the beach -Making out w guy. -…Me, waking up in the hospital hooked up to an IV with the worst hangover of my entire life.

Until this day i have no idea what actually happened since everyone told me a different story (this bitch from my class even insinuated I was raped like wtf dude?!) What seemed most legit was this: we kept on walking until we got to his resort, went to his room and i passed out in his bathroom. (aren’t i the hottest?) Guy was decent enough to take me back were some of my classmates snd teacher were hanging out and they took me to the hospital.

Piece of advice, never get alcohol poisoning before a 14 hour plane trip :):):):):)

Apparently, me and guy had exchanged numbers at some point so I was quite surprised when he kept texting me even when i was back in chile. Lord he was such a romantic! He kept telling me how much he liked and missed me it was so awkward, I never even liked the guy (curse my drunken lack of standards). Finally one day he asked me if we could possibly meet again, somewhere in the middle between our countries. I told him no a million times but he kept insisting offering to pay for all accommodations and stuff, at this point I was desperate to get rid of him but I couldn’t get myself to block him. So one day I panicked and—“i really really wish i could but my younger sister is pregnant and i have to be there for her, you must understand”

He never texted again.

4. What’s your least favourite meme, and which company do you wish would ruin it on Twitter so you’d never have to think about it again?

i can’t think of one i really hate atm but the ‘hewwo’ thing that got popular recently rlly annoys me

5. If you were a character in a book, what genre would you hope it was in, and would you be the protagonist or the antagonist?

Sci-Fi! And i kind of see protagonists and antagonists as the same thing? Like it really just depends of what point of view the story is told, wouldn’t The Knight in Shining Armor be the antagonist of the dragon’s story?

6. What’s one thing you pretend to dislike but actually lowkey love?

sam/nate I’m so sorry jesus

7. Would you rather be an old timey pirate or an old timey navy dude chasing pirates?

Pirate duh!

8. If you could have one thing right now (a physical object), what would it be?

A ps4 ;;

9. Do you believe you can’t wish for more wishes from a genie who gives you three wishes, or do you think there’s a loophole there?

I thing there would be plenty of loopholes but not such an obvious one as wishing for more wishes, u just gotta be creative. Here’s what i would do: 1) wish for 10 more lamps. 2) wish for a an invisible and impenetrable safe box to keep ‘em all. 3) have the ability to summon one whenever i please. When i only have one left i’d wish for 10 more and keep doing that forever.

10. If you could, would you rather visit the very bottom of the ocean in a submarine, or visit the international space station?

S P A C E 👽✨

11. What song would be playing in the background right now if you were in a movie?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[williambrooms]

Nosy thing... All but 21 and 22 since you answered them please.

Alright, here we go~!1: Virgin? Yep! I'm asexual, so I've never been interested in losing my virginity. Plus it's kind of hard to lose your virginity when even a skimpy bathing suit is close enough to nudity that it makes you nauseous.2: Shoe size10.5 and I usually go for the wide fit shoes when they're available.3: Do you smoke?Nope. Even if I wanted to, I'm an asthmatic. My lungs wouldn't be able to endure it. I can't even safely be friends with smokers, which stinks because I've met people who would have been my best buddies if I could breathe around them.4: Do you drink?I did when I was younger, but stopped because I nearly killed someone. In two days I can legally pick it back up, though.5: Do you take drugs?I've eaten a little pot, but nothing other than that. And yes, I ate it. Smoking it hurts.6: Age you get mistaken forAnywhere from 15 to 30. I guess I just have one of those faces...?7: Have tattoos?Not yet.8: Want any tattoos?I want a LOT of tattoos. The most important one is a dragon that I want to have wrapping around my torso. I have him completely planned out, I just have to get other things done first so that I won't have to worry about a surgery lopping off part of his paw or something.9: Got any piercings?Just my ears so far.10: Want any piercings?There are quite a few piercings that I want, all on the head. I want a few more piercings in each ear, a bolt through my left eyebrow or maybe two, then a few in my lips, and one in my tongue. 11: Best friend?A lovely lady named Lynda. She's incredibly patient with all of my issues and neediness. She's also the only person to never tell me to cheer up or think positive. She's genuinely interested in how I'm feeling and making things better instead of dismissing me or making me lie to her.12: Relationship statusWaiting for my Craig to come. (Forever alone, no one has the patience to date me.)13: Biggest turn onsBeing read to, cosplaying characters that my partner likes (especially if it's a character that I have things in common with), pet names, having my hair played with, and affectionate role-play bullying (Ex: Master/slave, teacher/student, DDlb, that kind of stuff). 14: Biggest turn offsManipulation (pretending is fine, actually doing it is not), any comments at all about my appearance, and a lack of jealousy. I want a partner who cares if someone else is trying to make a move on me and will get in their way. Leaving it alone and letting the person creep on me just because there's no risk of me liking them or, even worse, dwelling on it and sulking instead of saying/doing something about it is a very quick way to get me out of your life. 15: Favorite movieI have a lot, so it's really hard to pick, but I'm still very fond of BH6. 16: I’ll love you ifYou make me feel worthy of your time instead of letting me feel like a burden, which is exactly how I feel if I'm not given constant reassurance. Although I already love everyone, so this would only be if you wanted a romantic kind of love.17: Someone you missA friend I had to block. I love her more than air and I hated the way that things went, but she's much better off without me. As much as it hurts, I love her too much to let myself be a negative part of her life. 18: Most traumatic experienceI've had plenty of moments that people would consider way more traumatic than this, but the first time that I was called annoying is what stands out to me. I was probably in first grade and was already starting to realize that something was wrong with me, so I tried to tell a lady at daycare that I really trusted. She was the first person to tell me that I'm annoying when I complain and that the bad feelings would go away if I ignored them long enough. It's a pretty normal response, especially when it's a tiny child telling you that they're struggling to feel happy, but it never stopped hurting. 19: A fact about your personalityI'm extremely protective of the people around me.20: What I hate most about myselfEverything? I always wish that I could wake up as a different person, someone attractive and confident and mentally sound. I know it's impossible, but the only thing I like about myself is the stories that I write about other people. 23: My relationship with my sibling(s)My only sibling is dead, but we got along pretty well near the end of her life.24: My relationship with my parent(s)We have our good moments, but it's fairly strained most of the time, so I usually rely on friends for motherly and fatherly affection.25: My idea of a perfect dateCuddling on the couch together while we watch our favorite shows/movies and eat cheap takeout food.26: My biggest pet peevesPassive aggressive behavior. Nothing will make me resent you faster than acting like you care while tearing me down. I don't care what I did to upset you, either be honest and open or leave me alone.27: A description of the girl/boy I likeHe's tall, black hair, blue eyes, always wears a blue and yellow hat, has a blonde boyfriend. His name is Craig Tucker. If I had to pick a real person... it would be someone that I know I'll never have a chance with, which is why I avoid getting into situations like that.28: A description of the person I dislike the mostAbout 6'2", purple hair, always wears black, super obsessed with Creek, and goes by the name William. 29: A reason I’ve lied to a friendThe only lie that I tell is when I say that I'm okay and I'm not. I've honestly told that lie so many times to avoid making friends worry that I sometimes forget it's a lie.30: What I hate the most about work/schoolMy boss. He's a complete asshat and I can't wait to be free of the job I'm at.31: What your last text message says"Not eating. Not hungry."32: What words upset me the most?It's not a certain set of words or anything like that, but whenever someone comments on the way that I look, it makes me want to vomit. Even if it's a compliment, especially when it's a compliment, it makes me hate myself. I feel like a liar, like the lowest creature to ever exist, because I can't imagine it being true that anything is good about me. I hope I'll grow out of it someday, but for now, that's what upsets me most. It bothers me even more than being told to cheer up. 33: What words make me feel the best about myselfWhen people compliment the stories or role-play starters that I write. It happens very rarely, but it makes my entire day brighter.34: What I find attractive in womenMaternal instincts if they're aimed at me. Being cared for and loved is a big deal to me and it's always nice to meet someone who understands that those feelings don't have to be romantic.35: What I find attractive in menThe same care and love that I like in women, basically. I also prefer more dominant personalities. I'm pretty easy to crush, so having a more alpha person around makes me feel safer. 36: Where I would like to liveSomewhere cold and rainy. Preferably a small house, just big enough for me and one other person (plus some cats) with enough of a back yard for me to set up a hammock and take naps in it when it rains.37: One of my insecuritiesMy teeth. They all have calcification marks from when I had braces because I didn't understand how to clean them and one of my front teeth is a disgusting blue-grey color because it's dead and held in place by a metal post. I hate smiling around people, I always feel like they're looking at my teeth. 38: My childhood career choiceIt changed a lot. Mostly I wanted to be Ping (Mulan when she was in disguise) and spend my life saving entire countries. That changed a lot throughout the years and now I just hope I can live long enough to figure out what career I truly want. 39: My favorite ice cream flavorCookies and Cream.40: Who wish I could beThe perfect version of me that I made up when I was a kid. I used to really think that I could be him, but it never worked out. I'll never look that good and I could never have that confidence. I can barely muster the confidence to speak to my closest friends most of the time. 41: Where I want to be right nowCuddled close to someone who loves me.42: The last thing I ateUuuuuh... I had a french fry for lunch at work. 43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediatelyAdam Driver. 44: A random fact about anythingThe term "rule of thumb" comes from carpentry despite the fact that most people think it comes from an old rule (that never existed) that a man could beat his wife with a stick as long as it was no bigger than his thumb. The question said "anything," so there you go.This is really long, haha. Hopefully it posts correctly so that you can see it all, Anon. Have a nice day!