#every single day i have people in my notifs asking if i can donate and sometimes i can but usually i can’t

[bamsara]

A03 Questions Tag Game

I got tagged by: @kagedbird I tag: @onethirdofimpossible, @coffincrows, (first two that come to mind) and anyone else who wants to do the game

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

At the time of writing this post, currently 30 fics. (Not including any fics or written works that are not posted to AO3)

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

1,066,633

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Formerly: Don't Starve, FNAF, Dragons Dogma, Invader Zim

Currently: Cult of the Lamb

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

Solar Lunacy, Celestial Omens, Bytes of Lunacy, The Rehabilitation of Death, Saturday Insomnia

5 – Do you respond to comments?

I try to but I also get very nervous responding because I often don't know what to say back and I feel like it's almost rude or disrespectful to respond to a comment, esp the very nice ones that are long and in-deph with just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis, but I do read every single one since I have email notifications on for them

I'd like to sit down and respond to many but I really don't want to make it awkward so pls dear god readers forgive me

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't like unhappy endings. I enjoy angsty stories but I like when it's at least ending happy to me

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Not posted? Solar Lunacy

Ongoing? TROD

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? Most adults (in my experience) know the 'don't like don't read' rule and know basic online etiquette. I've gotten some for discontinuing a fic or switching fandoms though

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't write or draw NSFW! I like to make some suggestive themes sometimes, but I'm a very ace person, it's not something I do often. (I do have a current running goal that if my friend reaches their donation goal for their medical bills that I would give NSFW a shot, but again its not really my cup of tea)

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah I haven't written any cross overs, but I do draw them sometimes. Recently I've been spinning a Alice in Wonderland x COTL crossover in my head.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep. I've had people copy and paste my work, go in with a thesaurus to change a few words (like changing 'angry' to mad, 'upset' to 'sad', and so forth) to try and avoid detection and re-posted my written work under a different title name. AO3 staff took them down for violating their policy against plagiarism though

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I wouldn't mind it so as long as I'm asked before hand, though not on anon so I can actually work with the person to prevent any mistranslations or mishandling, and that I don't want my work posted to other websites

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

I think I did when I was a teen but I cannot remember now

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Eh I don't have any favorites, just ones I really focus on for a long while

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pass.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I can sit down for hours or several days and work on a writing wip completely in the zone. I cant do it on command but its at least something I can do

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Spelling and grammar, and sometimes long running sentences. I just kinda write, theres not really a goal for it to be perfect though so as long as the story gist and vibe is right, im fine with it

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before but only minor, had a friend help me with it (one or two lines of dialogue) Aside from that, I'm not comfortably fluent enough in anything to do it again without assistance

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

Soul Eater, when I was wayyy too young to be posting anything on the internet. My fanfics I wrote are still on fanfic.net to this day

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

It's inbetween TROD and EE&E right now

[sapphia]

Hey friend, I hope I can ask a favour from you. I’m a black non-binary lesbian going through a tough phase as Both of my parents are openly homophobic and transphobic. I've organised a crowdfunding to solicit for support to evacuate my home, it's been help for me. Please consider to donate to my pinned link on my profile if you can Reblog and share my pin post to reach a large audience with support . Anything helps at the moment.🙏❤️

Alright everyone, time for an impromptu lesson on how to spot scam asks!

The first sign that this message is a scam is honestly that someone is sending me this message at all, especially since I don't interact with the person enough to recognise their name. I'm sure that 99.9% of donation messages will be spam messages set up by accounts specifically designed to get money out of people, enough that I will delete these by default. I don't think I've ever had a genuine one. But if messages like this tug on your heartstrings enough to want to find out, let me show you how to do that.

The first warning sign is that I'm not following them. Maybe they're a longtime follower of my account though, and I might want to help them in that case, so to check that, I go to my account page, scroll down to the blog that was sent the message, and click on followers.

There I can type in alicesgarcia's blog name in the search, to see if she's following me. But I don't have to because I can see that she's right at the top of my follower list. This is a bad sign--it means she's followed me recently. To check this, I go to my notes and filter for followers only.

I left my ask notifications on too, and from this, I can see they actually sent me the ask BEFORE they followed me. Definitely a scam.

But let's say I want to go deeper. Maybe they're not my follower, but perhaps they are a genuine long-time tumblr user in a hard time--after all, they're a black non-binary lesbian with bigoted parents. That's all of my weak spots in one! I really want to support someone in that situation (Which, of course, I do, I'm on tumblr. This scam is highly targeted, and they s know what will get my sympathy).

So let's check out her blog. She's got a lot of posts, but they're all photo posts, which is another red flag. Though I'm scrolling and scrolling, most of the posts were made 1 day ago, with another big dump 5 days ago. There's a LOT of posts, too much to scroll through. This is deliberate, to make her look legit and discourage people from seeing the date of her first post. But by offsetting posts hundreds at a time (see address bar), I can find her first post.

And there we go--their first post was made five days ago. Definite scam. These are all huge red flags, but you don't need every one of them to tell you it's a scam. Any single one of these should have given me enough doubt that I would just click the block button. New follower? Scam. New blog? Scam. Blog all one type of post? Scam. No interaction with other blogs? Scam. Even the fact that she was so vulnerable and marginalised is a huge warning sign (you're being targeted), as is the fact that her blog just doesn't make her feel like a real person.

Look for ALL of these things. A good scam might set up a blog a month in advance and make personalised posts to gain your trust, or get the login of an old blog and use their age to make them look legit. Keep digging, and keep making sure that what you're seeing tracks with this being a real person in genuine need.

And if you're going to signal boost, even if you're not donating your own money, PLEASE do these basic steps before you post or reblog. Let's protect each other from this.

[cookinguptales]

okayyy I'm fed, I'm watered, I'm feeling more like a human again

time for tarot night!

so first of all, like I said, I'll be doing this through Tuesday. I would like to give myself something to focus on other than doomscrolling for the next few days. I'm also doing it for longer this time so I can pace myself. I've been pretty sick over the last month and I kind of overdid it on Halloween, so I'm going to be taking it easy for the next few days.

so you have a few days to get in your requests, and I'll have a few days to complete them.

I'm also bringing back tarot deck roulette this time. I am going to be choosing 13 of my decks and giving them random numbers. the number you choose decides your deck.

(and if I want... I might replace a deck once it's been used. or I might not. either way, don't be too sure that you'll be getting the same deck if you request the same number!)

also, as always, I am reminding you that I am not psychic. I do tarot for fun, and perhaps to help you figure out your thoughts about a subject. if something I say resonates with you, maybe it's something you subconsciously needed to hear. if I say something and it doesn't resonate at all, that's still a way of understanding what you do feel.

so! please don't take any of this too seriously, and don't ask me any direct questions! I can't answer them! I'm not psychic! but if you would like to tell me about anything you're struggling with, I can keep that in mind while doing my reading.

if you do want a totally-for-fun reading:

send me an ask, logged-in or anonymously

make sure you give me a number! if you do not give me a number, I will... idk, I'll find a scrungly deck or something.

I will also be choosing a random Halloween song from my playlist to go with each reading For Vibes. (Halloween ends when I say it does.) if you have a specific Halloween-y song you'd like me to use, feel free to request that.

if you are anonymous, please put in something to identify yourself! I'm gonna be getting a lot of similarly worded asks, so make sure you put in some emojis or something so you'll know which is yours and I can tell them apart in my notifications.

please be patient with me! like I said, I will be pacing myself and taking my time with each answer. if I have not answered you yet, there might be a lot of people ahead of you, or I might be watching a movie or editing up AITNISTS or sleeping or whatever. I don't know. please don't get too antsy if it takes a day or two.

please do not disparage yourself or act like you're taking up too much space in my askbox. every single time, I get asks like "if you're not busy with anyone else" or "this sounds dumb but" or something like that. your request is not worth any more or less than anyone else's, and I am happy to fill it. you are not taking anything from me that I am not freely giving.

finally, these readings will always be free. if you would like to repay me, please instead pay it forward in some way. do something nice for someone, volunteer/donate to a charity, show your friend a neat picture of a bird, etc... just make the world a little nicer and I'll be happy!

and, as always, if you'd like to block all this, please block #tarot shenanigans.

uhhh yeah okay go ahead

[randum-famdoms]

Y’all I been getting so many asks about donating to people who are in Gaza and I’m like 90% sure they’re scams since none of the people sending these messages have previously interacted with my blog. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but I’m gonna be turning off anon asks as a result. Not all of the asks are anon, in fact most aren’t, but it’s the only thing I can think of to mitigate this problem without restricting asks to not include media, to only be allowed by tumblrs I follow, or to turn them off entirely - none of which I want to do.

I think replying to these asks to spread awareness about the scams will only encourage whatever bots are running these things, since they’ll see me responding to asks about Gaza and donations. So, instead of doing that, I’m making this post.

Is it possible that they aren’t scams? Yes. However, only one of the blogs sending these asks followed me - and according to my notifs they followed me immediately before sending the ask and never interacted with my blog apart from that. Also, these asks only started getting sent AFTER I reblogged a post spreading awareness about a website which compiles real fundraisers for Gaza and its civilians in need of help to evacuate and AFTER I started interacting with more asks on my blog. All blogs which have sent me asks like this have absurdly long lists of blogs they follow all of which are very recently active, and of the ones that I clicked on all of which had reblogged the Gaza donations post in the last month, and none of the blogs sending the asks had any posts not relating to Gaza or their own go fund me (except for one, which only had 2 reblogs not relating to Gaza or advertising their own go fund me) and all of these blogs are pretty new (as in only a few months old but usually less).

All of this evidence leads me to believe that these blogs are not made by real people in need. If some are then I am sorry but they aren’t very good at proving they are real people, and it’s sad that they need to do that at all but realistically it’s a part of fundraising. None of them had links to other social media, none of them had varied original posts showing day to day life or personal interests, most of them didn’t even have a non-default pfp or blog banner, and only one of them had reblogs outside of anything immediately relevant to Gaza and even then it was just two probably AI photos of models that belong on only fans which frankly is not promising.

In conclusion, these kinds of scams make me sick. I’m tired of getting them in my asks, and I wish I could do more to stop them but I can’t find anything in my tumblr settings to do so. I don’t want to open my tumblr notifs and every single day see a new bot taking advantage of genocide to scam people out of money that could have gone to someone truly in need.

If someone knows of a way to actually prevent these kinds of scams reaching my inbox I would be grateful. I’m on mobile, so maybe there’s more options to stop this on desktop.

[princessofprocrastination]

You Live In Sweatpants And Hoodies (GeorgeNotFound)

MASTERLIST

pairing : georgenotfound / george x influencer!reader. 

summary : george and your fans realize that under all the sweaters, you have a body. 

a/n : if you are wondering what dress i was talking about, search up jennie short black dress :)

before social media, you studied law and got a degree in it but ended up not using it due to your social media career sky rocketing. 

but you never thought studying was a waste, that could be your backup, after all. social media doesn’t last forever. and you were ready to accept any difficulties since you knew you had plan b. 

you, till this day, could not describe what you do on social media. it started with tiktok. everything nowadays started with tiktok. but you were one of the first people who was on it. 

and then tiktokers would make their way onto youtube to sustain their “career” and grow. so that’s what you did. you never abandoned that app, though. especially not now, everyone on that app is seriously hilarious. 

your content on youtube was all over the place. once, for a video, you talked to weird men on omegle and tinder. another time, you would try different aesthetics on yourself. 

but here’s the catch, you’ve never really worn revealing clothes. your mum had always told you to never deprive yourself from what she says “fun young girl things” which is dressing up, or down, in her say and go have fun with your friends. 

but since the pandemic hit, you have had no where to go anyways, and you never really liked to show off your body. it’s not that you felt uncomfortable doing it, it’s just that you’ve never had the reason to. 

you also didn’t grow up girly. you hated dresses, especially short and tight dresses. and you weren’t a fan of wearing shorts either. you always opted to go comfy. 

whenever you post a tiktok, you always wore your signature hoodie and sweatpants that were clearly sizes too big for you. but you liked it, it’s comfortable to sleep in. 

and whenever you had to pan down to show your outfits on youtube, you were always caught wearing jeans and a baggy shirt, just styled differently, according to the aesthetic of the video you were filming for. 

you heard your phone ring from the couch. you picked it up, knowing who it was anyways. “morning, cutie.” you stared. 

“morning b.” george greets you, hair everywhere, clearly just woken up. 

you and george met on tiktok, just like all good friends do. he had duetted a tiktok of yours and you found him hilarious. you quickly followed him on every single social media platform he was in. you even set an alarm in case he ever streams and you’re asleep. 

you two are close. some would say you two are dating, but you two haven’t figured it out yet. you two didn’t really want to disclose it anyways, you two knew your not so secret feelings for each other, anyways. 

remember when he called you ‘b’? yeah that stands for ‘bub’. he thought it would be cute for him to have a different nickname than the usual “baby” or “babe”. 

you two actually live very near each other, making it way easier as a couple, but since england was put into a quarantine order, you two didn’t meet often. 

some would probably ask why you’d have to set an alarm when he streams when you two clearly are in the same timezone? well, that boy had no sense of time and a terrible sleeping schedule. it amazed you at how early he got up today. 

that facetime call lasted about half an hour before you told him you needed to stream on twitch today, to which he responded to you that he’s watch it later. 

today, you had a surprise. for the world. you can’t believe you even thought about this but it was about time you showed off to the world what assets you’ve been blessed with. 

speaking of showing off. no, you weren’t a particularly insecure person, you were just comfortable in the clothes you’re in. but celebrating the long time you’ve been on social media, and it being your birthday, you thought it might be fitting. 

george and you agreed to not make anything special about your birthday. you hated parties and large gatherings, and since you were still in the middle of a pandemic, you used that as an excuse to not go out. 

you spent the longest time searching for a good enough outfit for this day. and you found it. you decided to pick a pretty simple dress, a black short dress that went to your mid thigh, that showed off your waist, spaghetti strapped and a little backless. 

you walked out the shower, your robe on as you walked to your bathroom counters to dry your hair. you didn’t really bother to style it, just leaving you straight long hair down. 

you put on the most basic white sneakers you could find to still make it casual, and you thought it went well together, anyways.

you finished you makeup and took a good look at yourself. you had been aware that you only wore baggy clothes, so this was a huge change. you twirled yourself, feeling confident. 

you couldn’t wait for people to have heart attacks. 

you sat on your gaming chair, getting ready to start your stream. 

before you started your stream, you made sure you left your facecam turned off first. 

you went live. chat was confused since this was the first time that you’re not on facecam. all they could see at the moment was the caption “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” that you typed on your notes app on your computer.

“hi, chat.” you said, to calm them down a little. 

you heard your phone go off, a text notification. which you knew was george since he had a special notification ping on your phone. 

it said “did you forget to turn on your cam?” 

you laughed at that. “no, chat, i haven’t forgotten to turn on my facecam, just wait for a sec, please.” 

you felt giddy, excited for the reactions. 

instead of wearing your cute cat headphones, you wore your airpods instead to get the whole look going. 

you let out a sigh before moving your mouse cursor to linger on the ‘start recording camera’ button. you clicked on it, before moving your chair back to fully say hi to your chat. 

you brought your hands up to wave to the camera. you tilted your head slightly. “soooo, it’s my birthday.” you said. 

chat was going crazy so you stopped reading them so you wouldn’t get a headache. the donations went crazy too, but you tried your best to read them all. 

you thanked the people who subscribed to you or gifted you subs. 

“360 of this dress? sure, i’ll give you a twirl.” you replied a dono. 

you stood up, and rolled your gaming chair away so that they can see your whole outfit. you spun around once, quickly telling them where you got the dress from. 

you tried to hold your foot on one hand, balancing yourself to show them that you could go casual in this dress too. 

what you noticed was that, your phone hadn’t stopped beeping from a text notification, which belonged to the one and only georgenotfound. 

and since maybe he noticed that you won’t check your phone, he sent a donation instead. 

“WHAT THE FUCK.” the monotoned voice read out the donation, which was from george. 

you facepalmed, knowing exactly what his reaction is like at home. 

“I’M COMING OVER.” the voice said again. you laughed at his antics. 

“see you then.” you replied, laughing, knowing he was joking around anyways. 

-

GEORGE’S POV 

she thinks i’m joking, isn’t she? 

well, she gave me her spare key for a reason, and this would be the best reason. 

i knew i wanted to come around anyways. just after her stream. i promised her no going out, but not no gifts and ordering in. 

sneaky, i know. 

i had a plan brewing in my mind. to walk in her house as quietly as possible, to surprise her. 

after seeing her in that dress, i don’t think i can stand our fans not knowing we aren’t dating. 

i know, i haven’t really asked her out, but we kinda both agreed that there was no use, knowing each other’s feeling was good enough and that we didn’t need to do anything extravagant. 

i don’t know what she’s tell her fans but i’m sure i hadn’t disclose our relationship. the fans shipped us, sure, but i don’t think i’ve ever said it out loud. 

we knew we’d have to say it someday. so i thought, why not today? as i surprised her at her own house. 

her fans watching her stream are tweeting at me like crazy. no one had seen her like that. she practically lives in sweats and hoodies, constantly. 

the most fitting thing i’ve seen her wear is skinny jeans, but she would always wear a baggy top with it. people always say she drowns in her clothes, but i never complained, she looked good either ways. 

but seeing her in that dress, damn. i needed to be there and hug her, kiss her. i couldn’t wait to see her in that dress, right in front of my eyes. 

our observant fans or close friends have asked if she dresses the same at home, and my answer always stayed the same. that she lives in baggy clothes. 

there are some creepy people out there who would ask that question in a sexual way. thinking i’ve seen her in less. but truthfully, i haven’t. we’re not pass that stage, and we prefer it this way. 

what the fans see is what i see on the daily, too. 

and no, me going to her house to see her more clearly in that dress doesn’t mean we’re doing anything. i just want to observe her beauty. see what she’s hid from me. 

-

YOUR POV

chat was going crazy over george’s donation. but you still laughed it off. it’s all a joke anyways, him coming over. 

he was coming over later, after noon, so he wouldn’t just drop everything to see you right now. 

“geez. chill out, chat, george was joking.” you told them. 

you sat on your gaming chair more comfortably as you started playing a couple rounds of among us with your fans. you told them not to cheat and watch your stream as they’re playing ad lucky you, they listened. 

for some reason, your chat still kept blowing up with george comments. maybe they were still caught up on that comment he said earlier. 

but you hadn’t thought that he’d be behind you the entire time, telling the chat to not make it obvious. 

“happy birthday, b” you heard a very familiar voice from behind you. 

you almost had a whiplash from how quick you turned your head to see who was behind you. 

you stood up to hug him, almost falling to the floor, stumbling on your own feet.

with the way you ran to him, he almost fell to the floor. “you’re here, you’re here.” you kept repeating it to him, not believing that he actually came. you knew he’d come later, but not this early. 

george moved you back gently to see your full outfit. you two were aware that the facecam is still on, and pointing to you two, seeing every move. 

“come here.” he whispered to you before grabbing your waist, to kiss you. 

you two took a little while enjoying each other’s company, still in front of everyone on twitch. 

he moved you back a little, turning you to face your gaming monitors. “MY GIRLFRIEND, EVERYBODY. isn’t she so hot, oh my god.” he said to the stream. 

you laughed at his stupid antics, covering your face with your hands as you blushed. 

your chat didn’t stop talking about the interaction, not believing that their ship was finally sailing. 

you played a couple more rounds of among us with them, george taking over sometime or making funny comments to entertain your chat while you played. 

after the stream, george and you took time to enjoy the time alone, ordering in your favourite food and opening gifts that he bought you. 

you forgot to mention that both of your twitter was blowing up too much that you had to mute it for a while. you knew that a lot had screenshot the cute moment. 

you took note to screenshot some of the photos on twitter later. 

[dysfunctionalcrab]

blushing

pairing: nihachu x reader

pronouns: gender neutral (please let me know if i’ve made a mistake and switched pronouns by accident)

-> requested by anon: can I request a nihachu x reader where you’re best friends with wilbur and you’re also a streamer so you and him are talking on stream and then he brings up readers crush on niki reader gets flustered and doesn’t know niki is watching the stream until someone in chat says something

[y/t/u] - your twitter username

note: i’m so glad i’ve finally written something for niki, i love her so much

“emma thank you so much for the donation!” you said smiling widely. your eyes were focused intently on the screen.

today you decided to do a chill stream, it didn’t consist of continuous screaming or cheering and deafening your own ears. you wanted to use this stream to answer some of your fans questions and chat to them, after all, they are the reason you do what you do.

you were a streamer and youtuber with a very respectable following. most of your content was gaming, but once in a while you liked to stream something like baking or just normal lifestyle things.

wilbur was currently on call with you, making jokes or mocking you, you know, as annoying friends do. you two were currently talking about the new season of a show that you two had been binge watching, often interrupted by you thanking somebody for the donation or answering a question that you read in chat.

“you know, next time i see you, whenever that is, we should watch the finale together,” wilbur proposed

you nodded enthusiastically at the idea and took a sip from your drink. “that’d be epic” you responded

“we should also have niki come over too, because of that big fat crush of yours”

your eyes widened at the sudden comment.

“huh?” you asked, feeling a little flustered

“that’s right ladies and gentlemen, [y/n] has a fantastic fucking crush on-“

“wilbur-! what the fuck! i don’t have a crush,” you defended, interrupting him. there was no way anybody was going to buy it though, your face was heating up and you checked your face in the preview of the camera, you were pink. literally pink. you had to turn your face camera off for a few minutes just so the obvious blush on your face could fade away.

i mean, it was true. but how could you not like niki? she was the sweetest, kindest and most wholesome person you had ever known. you found yourself falling in love with every single adorable quirk she had shes so cute don’t come at me. don’t even get started on how cute she looked with the cat ears

niki had such a warm, friendly personality. you two streamed often together and became good friends due to your mutual friendship with wilbur. day by day you found yourself falling for her, whether it be laughing at a funny post she sent you on instagram or just talking to her and hearing her voice. simp behaviour amirite?

you turned on your face cam again, continuing to answer chats questions again. though wilbur was making it incredibly hard to concentrate with all his irrelevant inputs and his teasing comments.

“what’s your favourite snack?” you read from the screen

“niki” wilbur answered

you face palmed. “for fucks sake-“

“okay okay i’ll stop,” he chuckled. you shook your head at his stupidity. we all knew he wasn’t going to stop.

chat was living for this content, some people were surprised, some people were talking about how cute you two would be together, some people were saying how goddamn obvious it was.

you wanted this subject to be dropped quickly. what did this crush matter anyways? if she was going to be with anybody in the world it would be with someone as equally adorable as amazing as her, you thought.

your thoughts were cut short by wilbur, once again.

“why is everyone spamming ‘niki’ in your chat, [y/n]?” wilbur questioned.

you rolled your eyes. “i don’t know, probably because you’ve been teasing me about my alleged ‘crush’ on her for 10 minutes!” you said sarcastically.

you looked at your chat and all you could see was

user: NIKI IS HEEEREE

user: hi niki!!!!!

user: omg guys SHES WATCHING LMAO

you wanted your chair to swallow you whole. you hid your face in your hands not wanting chat to see your face blushing (again)

your heart was beating loudly, did she hear all that about the crush? you wondered.

you turned off face cam once again. everything was getting a bit much for you. you took another sip from your drink. you had been streaming for over two hours and your energy was pretty much gone at this point. and then, you heard a notification from your phone. automatically, your hand reached out to grab it.

it was from twitter.

@nihaachu: [y/t/u] looks really cute when they blush 🥰

of course she heard it. your face broke out into a shy grin. though you silently cursed wilbur under your breath. you opened up your messages and typed out a text.

to wilbur: remind me to smack you the next time i see you

———

masterlist

[storiesforallfandoms]

he’ll never see this ~ noen eubanks

word count: 1994

request?: yes!

“Hi can you do one imagine of Noen Eubanks, like, the reader is a tik toker or influencer something like that and they have a crush on each other,and they Fans are Shipping them.

Thanksss💖🖤💖🖤💖”

description: in which she admits her feelings for a fellow creator during a stream thinking he’ll never see it

pairing: noen eubanks x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

The sound of a new donation message coming in pulled you away from your game for a split second. The automated voice read the message out to you: “are there any influencers that you are totally crushing on right now?”

You chuckle to yourself as you turn back to your game. “You guys really wanna start something, huh? You realize this will be trending within an hour if I say anything.”

You glanced over at your chat to see they were begging you to tell them who your influencer crush was. You had mentioned a few times that there was a fellow influencer that you had a crush on, but you refused to admit who it was (for obvious reasons). Your viewers, however, were determined to find out who this mystery man you liked was.

“We promise we’ll keep it a secret,” you read, managing to catch one message before it disappeared into the void of never ending messages. “I don’t believe you guys at all.”

You laughed as you watched the chat blow up again. You finally paused your game and made your face cam bigger for the audience. “Okay, you know what? Fuck it, there’s no way he’ll ever see this and I’m not big enough of a content creator to have articles written about me. My influencer crush is Noen Eubanks. If you don’t know who he is, look him up on TikTok and you’ll totally understand why I have such a crush on him.”

Your chat went absolutely wild at this. You went back to playing your game, smiling to yourself as you did so. It felt nice to get that off of your chest, and you knew you were about to get a kick out of your fan’s reactions to this.

Like you said, you had no fear of Noen actually finding out what you said. You had a bit of a following, but it was nothing too big. Just enough that you could be classified as “Internet famous”, but not enough that admitting you had a crush on someone else who had a much bigger following than you would be a big deal.

Or so you thought.

After your stream, you decided to go right to bed. You were feeling tired and had to get up early to edit the video you were planning on uploading. You weren’t awake to witness the internet absolutely explode over your comment, but lucky for you it was still happening when you woke up the next morning.

When you checked your phone for the first time that day, you noticed that your notifications had blown up over night. You figured it was just your fans teasing you over your crush on Noen, which it partly was, but you noticed that it was also YouTube news Twitter accounts and internet tabloid accounts tagging you in their articles about your crush on Noen.

“Oh no,” you said, your eyes widening as you read through article after article, tweet after tweet.

Before you knew it, you had spent nearly two hours sat on the floor, reading through everything that mentioned both you and Noen. All the articles were the same: an brief introduction to you and your small Twitch/YouTube following, talking about you admitting to having a crush on Noen the night before, and asking whether the reading audience believed that you and Noen would make a good couple or not.

The reactions from fans were as entertaining as you figured - with many of your fans trying to come up with ship names for you and Noen and tagging him in clips from your stream - but then there were the less than entertaining reactions. Many people, whether they were Noen’s fans or just people who wanted to hate on you you weren’t sure, were saying you had mentioned Noen’s name just for clout, or that your “crush” was nothing more than an infatuation over his looks.

It wasn’t until your phone rang that you were finally pulled out of your trance and back to the real world. Your friend’s name lit up on your screen, and it took you a moment to collect yourself before you answered.

“(Y/N), have you been online yet today?” she asked.

You sighed and nodded, then remembered she couldn’t actually see you. “Yeah, I’ve been scrolling for the past two hours on Twitter.”

“You haven’t checked your Twitch page, or YouTube account yet?”

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “No? Should I?”

“You definitely should.”

You put her on speaker and switched to your Twitch app. You were shocked to see that you had skyrocketed in subs overnight, same with your YouTube page. You had gained a solid ten thousand subscribers on both platforms, and it was still rising by the second.

“So this situation has gained me more subscribers, who cares? That’s not why I talked about Noen on stream,” you said.

“Oh no, honey. It isn’t just the situation that has given you new subscribers. Go check Noen’s Twitter.”

You knew what she was implying, but you had to see it for your own eyes. You immediately opened the Twitter app again and typed in Noen’s name. You were brought to his Twitter page, where his most recent tweet was a link to the clip from your stream along with a caption that read, “When your internet crush calls you *their* internet crush”.

You covered your mouth in shock. You were sure you were about to start screaming, but you were so speechless that you couldn’t force any sounds from your mouth.

“I’m assuming by the silence that you’ve seen it,” your friend said after a prolonged moment of silence.

“D-Did he just c-call me his...?” you trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.

“He did,” your friend confirmed. “And both of your fans are going wild. They’ve already come up with a ship name for you, which isn’t the most clever name but I admire their spirit.”

You could barley hear what your friend was saying. You were still staring at the tweet in disbelief. Your mind could barley comprehend anything else besides the fact that your online crush thought the same as you. You were trying to tell yourself not to get too worked up, as it was most likely that nothing was going to come from this besides some gossip for a week or more, but your heart was still racing with excitement.

You gasped as a notification popped up on the top of your screen: “@/eubanks_noen is requesting to message you”.

“He’s trying to DM me,” you whisper, so silently that you could barley hear yourself.”

“What?”

“He’s trying to DM me! On Twitter!”

“What are you doing talking to me?! Go answer his DM!”

You were too focused to laugh as you hung up the phone and went into your DMs. The familiar profile picture that you saw almost every day on your timeline was the first thing you saw in your message requests. Your whole body was shaking so much that you could barley see the screen as you pressed to open it.

“hi :)”

It was a very simple message, but it was enough to make your heart race even more.

You were debating on messaging back, wondering if maybe this was a fake account or something. But you knew there was only one way to find out for sure, so you took a deep breath and responded.

“hi! :)”

His response came near seconds later: “so...we’re the internet’s hottest power couple, huh?”

You chuckled to yourself. “i guess we are. sorry if i ruined your mentions last night. i didn’t think it would blow up the way it has. i’m not all that famous online.”

“are you kidding me? you’re like one of the best twitch streamers. i’ve watched every single one of your streams, including last night’s”

You felt your face heating up, but a slight groan of embarrassment came from your lips. You were thinking of all the embarrassing things you had said and done on stream, and now wished you could just melt into the floor or erase the entire internet.

“oh that’s embarrassing. i’d say i’m not that awkward and dumb in real life, but i’m actually more so”

“i wouldn’t say you’re awkward or dumb at all. i think you’re adorable”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed to no one in particular. If your face got any hotter, it would be on fire.

“you really know how to talk to a girl”

“i really don’t, but i’m glad you’re enjoying my attempts to flirt”

“so you’re flirting? never would’ve known”

“i know, it’s hard to tell. i’m trying to be subtle”

You continued to message Noen for a while. It felt so natural, as if you weren’t talking to someone you had been crushing on for about a year now. You were extremely glad you weren’t coming off as awkward as you normally felt.

Finally, after having been sat on the floor for a good three hours, your back began to ache and your stomach was growling so loudly in attempts to get your attention. You realized then that you had put getting breakfast on hold in order to fall deep into the hole of internet gossip that had surrounded you overnight.

“love talking to you and all, but i’m gonna have to go for a little bit. i’ve been sat on the floor basically since i woke up and i haven’t eaten yet today so my stomach is very upset with me”

“why are you on the floor? 😂”

“when i’m stressed i tend to sit down no matter where i am, and i was very stressed to see my name plastered all over social media this morning”

“why were you stressed over that?”

“it’s not something i’m exactly used to. like i said, i’m not overly famous online. i just have a small following. i’m not someone who has an article written about every little thing she says. also like i said, i didn’t expect you to see me admit that i have a crush on you last night, so i was so worried about what your reaction was going to be”

“i guess i can understand that. i haven’t had a lot written about me. i’m not a big tiktoker like some of my friends are, but i guess that’s a blessing”

You started to type another message, but paused when you saw the three dots from Noen indicating that he was typing something else.

“for what it’s worth, i’ve had a internet crush on you since you first started streaming”

Your jaw dropped at this. You had started streaming months before you even knew about Noen, which meant he had known about you before you knew about him. Just when you thought this day couldn’t get any better.

“wow! that’s quite a while. you must be one of my first subscribers then”

“i’m up there i think. i’ll wear that badge with pride”

The three dots again. You waited anxiously to see what he was about to say.

“i liked getting to talk to you today, though. maybe we could talk offline sometime, like through text or phone call. maybe meet in person eventually”

Your smile was so wide that it hurt your cheeks. “yeah, i’d really like that”

You exchanged phone numbers and added his to your contacts. You finally pulled yourself off the floor and started making a super late breakfast while also starting to edit your next video since you had also gotten such a late start on that.

You were putting your food on a plate when your phone chimed, indicating a new text message.

“btw, it’s nice to finally get to meet you internet crush :)”

“it’s nice to get to meet you, too, internet crush”

You sat at the table, your heart feeling warm. And to think, it all came true thanks to one nosy donation.

Not sure how much I like this imagine, but I hope you enjoyed anyways!

[fakecrfan]

bloop, I find many of our TMA characters very lovable. Tortureable. I mean, lovable. Definitely that one. What do you think would happen if the eye fell in love with some other people?

Oooooh yes I also find every single character in TMA amusing to torture worthy of love, so I greatly appreciate this ask! In fact I wrote 2000 whole words of this ask, holy crap. It was long enough that I posted on AO3 here, if you prefer to read over there.

Otherwise, have 5 different humans the Eye could have fallen in love with in a funny way, and One in a serious way. :)

---

Jon is tiredly washing his face in the Archives bathroom when it happens.

Nothing immediately concerning, like waking up from a coma or feeling the pull to traumatize random strangers on the street. It’s just--when he looks in the mirror, there is a little buzzing at the back of his head, similar to what he feels when he gets a burst of knowledge or compels someone. Then, like an intrusive thought, words appear.

  HELLO THERE, HANDSOME.

Jon stares at the mirror for a split second.

“What the fuck.”

Melanie gets to overhear Jon’s hysterical phone call to Elias’s prison later.

“No, no! I refuse!” he says, pacing as his voice gets increasingly shrill. “I’ve been kidnapped, blown to smithereens, resurrected, and had my free will toyed with. I’m drawing the line here. I am not  having a-a possession-induced sexuality crisis in my thirties! That’s too much! No!”

“Well, Jon, I’m afraid you can’t simply switch off whatever feelings our master channels through you.’

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Considering our predicament, it would actually be much better if you  --”

Jon throws the phone at the wall.

---

Elias is tiredly washing his face when it happens.

He looks up into the mirror and feels a buzzing at the back of his head, similar to what he feels when he gets a burst of Knowledge, or when he compels an answer from someone. And then, like an intrusive thought, words appear in his head.

  HELLO THERE, HANDSOME.

This is what Elias always thinks when he looks at himself in the mirror, so he pays it no mind.

---

“We don’t think like they do,” Arthur Nolan says.

Gertrude scoffs. “I’m not convinced they think at all.”

Before the statement can go further, the door to the Archives bursts open, revealing a flushed, disgruntled looking Elias.

“Well, how do we know that  you  think?” he snaps, his cadence distinctly un-Elias-like. Un-Wright-like, for that matter. “I mean, philosophically--you can’t know if anyone is thinking besides yourself! Various human philosophers came to that conclusion you know! If you can’t be certain of whether humans think, then why doubt whether powerful eldritch beings can?”

Gertrude squints. “Elias--”

“The Eye is definitely smart. Super smart,” Elias says, still red and jittering like a teenager stumbling for a comeback. “You’re just--you’re mean! Anyway, the Eye knows sooooo many things! So many more than  you,  Gertrude. Maybe from the Eye’s perspective  you  don’t think because your brain is sooo tiny and your thoughts are so small. Ha, ha! Bet you didn’t think of that!”  

Gertrude pinches the bridge of her nose. “I was taking a statement, Elias,” she tells him curtly. “Also, I didn’t mentioned the Eye spec--”

“The Eye is also very sexy and dateable too” Definitely-Not-Elias-Or-Even-Magnus says, bowling over her. “I hear the Eye has an eight-pack. That the Eye is cosmically shredded--”

---

Melanie expected her mental breakdown would be the end of her career. It had been awful. She’d woken up every day utterly miserable over the fact that one of her worst, most vulnerable moments had gone viral and was being watched and laughed at by millions of people over the internet.

And then, unexpectedly, her patreon earnings tripled overnight. Hundreds and hundreds of new accounts signed up and started donating. Suddenly every single video she’d made was one of the most popular on YouTube of all time, due to a sudden influx of likes from new accounts.

That’s also when the weird comments started up. Thousands upon thousands swarming the comment section of every video on her channel.

HEY HEY HEY THIS IS VERY FUNNY VERY GOOD MELANIE KING IS GOOD I LOVE HER

THE DOG GHOST JOKE IS FUNNY VERY FUNNY I LOVE MELANIE KING YES

MELANIE IS THE BEST VERY GOOD YES MORE MELANIE PLEASE

Melanie assumed it was some kind of mockery, but none of it was outwardly hostile enough to report. The thing that made them disturbing was just the sheer volume of comments and likes, from so many accounts all writing in the same style.

“This is--uh,” one of her more computer savvy friends told her. “I mean, I thought someone wrote a program to write all of these when you described them at first but… most of them are from different IP addresses. Um, it seems like the most likely explanation from a technical perspective is… multiple people collaborating to send all of these to you?”

The second disturbing thing was that the comments started to respond to things Melanie did not share on the internet… or even speak out loud.

NO MELANIE NO BREAKS POST MORE VIDEOS PLZ

MELANIE YOUR NOT BAD IT WAS VERY SEXY WHEN YOU PUNCHED THAT MAN

MELANIE YOU ARE LOVED HOPE THE ANNIVERSARY OF DADS DEATH WAS NOT TOO BAD WE LOVE YOU

And then, of course, was the third disturbing thing. That in addition to implying to have incredibly private knowledge about her, the comments started to… suggest things. Or rather, one thing in particular.

DO A MAGNUS INSTITUTE EPISODE MELANIE WILL BE FUN YES

MAGNUS INSTITUTE TAKES STATEMENTS THEY WILL BELIEVE YOUR STORY MELANIE DO AN INTERVIEW THERE

Melanie looked up the place. The Magnus Institute. Known for taking stories of spooky shit. Latest Archivist had disappeared mysteriously. Apparently the police gave the place a wide berth.

Melanie took a swig of whiskey, and decided she didn’t have much of a self-preservation instinct anyway.

---

Joshua had dealt with enough creepypasta shit during the coffin ordeal to be able to figure there was something supernatural about the Harry Potter style flurry of letters that swarmed his apartment, the ones with eyes painted all over their envelopes. He ignores them at first, which was his preferred way of dealing with this kind of nonsense, but that leads to the whole thing escalating. Now there are more letters, several boxes of chocolate on his doorstep, and… the wall has a bunch of new security cameras. The lenses seem to have silhouettes of hearts in them.

Huh.

He opens the door, uncertain about what to do with all the packages. That's when he notices his cell phone was buzzing up a storm. He checks and finds notifications peppered with eye emojis and hearts and x’s and o’s.

Well. Might as well see what the sender wants from him?

He taps the notification to see an impossibly long stream of letters.

  Dearest Joshua, my love~

He stares. The texts come in as he does so.

458 new messages.

498 new messages.

He shoves the boxes of chocolates back out, and texts back.

---

Basira is tiredly washing her face when it happens.

It’s just one thing to add to the pile of obsessive paranormal weirdness that’s been happening around her lately. She looks up into the mirror and feels a tingle at the back of her head. Her face looks… well. Not different, exactly. Her features are all the same, but she can feel that thing at the back of her head tingling, appropriating her own eyes to size her up in an intrusive, alien way, noting the softness of her skin and the angles of her cheekbones. It’s not a way Basira sizes herself up--not on her own, at least.

  BEAUTIFUL.

Basira knows, deeply, that she is not beautiful. Beautiful is a label that was always applied to other girls, ones who ran around in frilly short skirts, or put on makeup or wore sparkling things. Basira’s labels were different:  smart, practical, sensible  and most importantly  useful.

Basira doesn’t like to look at herself in the mirror much these days. Still, of all that oppressive… interest… that she’s been saddled with, the appropriation of her own eyes on occasion might be the least of her problems.

Melanie watches her, whenever Basira takes to reading openly in the Archives. Melanie’s eyes are wild these days, and she’s always muttering and pacing and snarling as her eyes dart around as though looking for threats--except for when Basira is there. Then she gets still, watching, eyes unblinking.

“Stop that,” Basira says, when she catches her. “I’ve told you I want to read alone.”

Melanie looks utterly wounded for a second, then she flips.

“Fuck you!” she snarls. “I saved you, that fucking meat man would have skewered you without me! How dare you act like I’m some wild animal?”

“That doesn’t mean you get to--”

But Melanie isn’t good about listening to reason these days. When Basira tries to get her to stop, Melanie kicks furniture and throws things. Staplers. Scissors. Usually Basira doesn’t get hit. Usually. But even when she does, Basira keeps her voice level and her feet on the floor.

(Just like Basira isn’t beautiful, she’s not someone who shakes or cries when people throw things at her.)

Jon is worse than Melanie, though. Not violent. Not irrational. Just  concerned. He tries to bring her coffee when she wants it but hasn’t asked, gives her Advil when she has a headache and hasn’t mentioned it. He blinks even less than Melanie these days, even if his eyes are softer.

What makes him worse are the questions--and the fact that Basira can’t stop herself from answering them.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Melanie. Scissors nicked me. She didn’t mean to, I think. Just was angry and didn’t think. Looked more hurt than I did when they actually hit.” Then, Basira got control of her tongue again. “Stop that.”

No reply to that last bit. Just an unblinking, soft gaze pinning her down like she’s an insect on a board. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful. I miss how she was before,” Basira can only barely keep her voice steady. “I’m mostly okay about the violence. I’ve dealt with worse. It’s just it all adds up, having everyone act so weird around me all the time. Jon--”

“You’ll feel better when you talk about it,” he says. Like he’s doing her a favor, instead of just satisfying that sick curiosity that this place runs on. “Basira, you said you’ve dealt with worse. Do you mean in your past job, or has anyone ever-?”

The second she’s done answering that one she bolts and locks herself in the safe room, pressing a pillow over her ears. She can hear Jon knocking outside, sounding so sorrowful. Saying he’s sorry and he just wants her to feel better and she needs to talk to someone.  

She’s furious with him. If she’d caught him pressing anyone else for info like that, she’d have called him a monster. She’d have threatened to murder him in his sleep. She can’t manage any of that now. Instead she curls up on the cot, shaking in a way Melanie hadn’t managed to get her to.

(It’s not really Jon. Just like the violence isn’t really Melanie.)

(Is there a “Jon”, anymore? Or is what’s left just a hollowed out vessel for--?)

Her phone buzzes. Martin, the screen says. Martin, who refuses to be in the same room with any of them, or respond to any of their texts. Except Basira.

    Are you alright?  

    Do you need anything?  

Basira puts her phone down, unsure how to respond. The timing of the text means that Martin probably  saw something, either through cameras or spooky Eye powers. That he’s just as compromised as Jon, or Melanie, or Basira’s own eyes in the mirror.

They can probably see her now, she realizes. One or another of them watching every single little twitch and lip wobble right now. The thought makes her suck in a deep breath, and school her expression into perfect stillness.

  I wish Daisy were here.  

The thought almost cracks through her calm and sends her into a spiral.

  I was always safe with Daisy.

Outside Jon stops knocking and jiggling the doorknob. Quiet. As though he’s had an idea.

[captainjimothycarter]

How about a Steggy drabble for the "stormy day" prompt in that October prompt list you posted? (Only if you feel like it of course!) :D

This is so not what you wanted. *insert Modern Day Steggy* I don’t know where I was going with this.

--

The fact that his apartment complex or fuck the whole neighborhood had been plunged into darkness during a heavy, stormy night didn’t surprise Steve. He sat in the sudden darkness on his couch, phone in hand as he listened to the lightning and thunder clash outside, like two Gods in battle. He listened to the heavy wind and rain threaten to burst down his apartment and flood everything away. Lightning streaked once more and when he thought the coat stand in the far corner of the room, Steve sighed and figured he’d better get a flashlight or two.

It was supposed to do this all week, with very little breaks in between. They were expecting over seven inches of rain, if not more, not that those measurements meant anything to him. With the power out, his job of working as a comic book artist and finally putting some fresh ideas to paper was useless.

It was cold in the apartment now without power and the blonde was fully aware as he pulled out his trunk of emergency flashlights, camper burners, candles, etc. that he remembered someone had moved in just next door. He doubted they had prepared for this either. 

The past few storms had taught him that his neighbors had all prepared for this, after going through every other home and giving out flashlights and candles to be sure they had something to see by. No idea how long this outage will last.

Hopefully not long, because Mr. Jensen upstairs needed his oxygen, but his wife assured him that they had a generator. That was just her text coming in again to confirm they were okay.

How do you even go to your next-door-neighbor? Hi, I’m Steve? The power is out and I’m not trying to be creepy or have some Hallmark moment, I just didn’t know if you had flashlights or a charger for your phone. 

“Mother-fuck-get off!”

Steve’s heart lurched into his throat at the shouting, the worst ideas coming to mind. He didn’t even think. He jerked the door open and pointed the bright beam of light at the figure on the floor, eyes wide.

“What the hell?!”

She was...his neighbor. The brunette with the chocolate brown eyes, pretty red lips, and a flare for the dramatics with a spark of stubborn energy that never seemed to die. He’s seen her around the lobby, the cafe down the street. Never had the courage to talk to her.

“I-I-I-I…” Steve swallowed the stutter and dropped the box, reaching a hand down to pull her to her feet. “You...shouted, I overreacted.”

“Damn right you overreacted, breaking into my home. What gives you that right?” She growled, her accent doing nothing to help Steve and his muddled brain.

“None, ma’am, but...I thought you were in trouble and reacted. I…” The light fell to her feet, where a pale blue and yellow baby blanket was wrapped around her leg.

“Unless you’re here to save me from my son’s baby blanket, then I think I could handle it.” The anger melted from her face as she read Steve’s expression. “I can’t be too mad, can I? You heard me screaming, luckily I didn’t wake the baby up. I’m sorry. I’m frustrated with these cheap lights and this storm. Michael can’t sleep without his nightlight, I was going to fix him a bottle.”

As if right on cue, there were heavy screams of an infant who’d woken up in a confused and dark setting didn’t like to be. 

“Excuse me, Steve, was it? I better go get him.”

“Yeah, it was...I…”

By the time Peggy came back, an infant in one arm curled up against her chest. His hand was no larger than Steve’s pinkie. And oh, oh he must just be less than a week old.

Peggy looked up from cradling the sniffling baby and frowned at Steve holding a bottle and a steaming cup of ginger tea as if it was a peace offering. He’d placed several lights around them, some battery-powered and stuck to the walls to give the living room some space. He’d even fixed the couch so she could lay back with the baby.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she whispered as she sat on the couch and adjusted Michael in her arms to get him to take the bottle. There came that sigh of relief when he latched on instantly. “I’m Peggy by the way, I...diddidn’ introduce myself before. Your neighbor, Mrs. Jensen upstairs talks about you all the time. She helped me move in last week.”

“I wish I was here, I could’ve helped. I was in D.C.,” Steve sighed, sitting on the edge of the couch and adjusting a blanket so it covered Peggy’s cold feet. It was odd, being in a stranger’s home that was clearly halfway unpacked with boxes, moving blankets, half put together furniture, but it felt more like home than his four walls did. 

“Doing a presentation on your comic, right? She told me all about your comics and how you’ve donated so much money to various organizations when you could’ve lived comfortably by now and how you even purchased her husband’s generator.” The pride in Peggy’s voice made Steve’s throat tighten. He found himself looking down at his hands where she nudged him with her foot. “I think it’s awfully nice of you. You do more for these people in this lil, ole apartment than you do for yourself. Is that why you came here - to my apartment?”

“Y-yeah, yeah. I just knew you had moved in and didn’t think you were prepared for this storm. I didn’t know you had a son, Mrs. Jensen didn’t mention it.” He wanted to ask the obvious, where’s the father. Partner? There was no ring on her finger, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t taken. He didn’t want to overstep but so far, it didn’t seem like he was. 

“No, I doubt she knew. I had already had Michael’s stuff moved in before I even moved here. I doubt many know since I haven’t been out much. When I have, it’s without him, my friend and his wife come to babysit while I run errands. He’s so small and I’m terrified of something happening when I don’t know the streets so well, I…”

The human fear of being a first-time parent was there. Steve didn’t know that fear well but he’s grown up around it with his ma being a nurse. His hand slowly moved to close around Peggy’s calf, giving a tender squeeze. 

“You’re human,” he tells her in the softest tone he can manage. It still manages to rumble from his chest like a dragon about to blow flames. “You’re a first-time mother, it seems and a single-parent if I have to guess. This terror you’re feeling is new. Michael looks like how I did - premie?” At her nod, he smiled. “You’re doing great, Peggy. I don’t have kids, but I...can help. My ma is a nurse. I’m sure she can offer some advice.”

--

That’s how at nearing midnight, Steve found himself putting together a rocking-chair thanks to a video on YouTube. Following the rocking-chair was a changing table, dresser, and even Peggy’s bed. She’d been sleeping on the couch with the bassinet beside her. He made a call to his mother to ask about Michael’s medication and introduced over video Sarah and Peggy and unsurprisingly the pair hit it off.

And in private, Sarah warned Steve he better not mess around, not that he was the type. Peggy needed someone to depend on in this scary time but she was glad it was her son. 

“Okay,” Steve sighed, taking the plastic that had been around the mattress and tossing it down the recycling chute with a grin. “I think that’s done. Is there anything else?”

Peggy still laid on the couch, bottle and tea empty, cradling her son close. She nodded and sat up, nodding at Steve to sit. When he sat further away from her, she came closer and slowly eased Michael into his arms.

Steve froze because for his vast size and despite his mother’s knowledge, he’s never held a child before. Oh, he was so small and warm. And full of life. Wrapped up in a tight bundle of duckie-themed blankets. 

“Shh. There we go, just support his head. See, you’re a natural.” She laid her head on his shoulder, the smell of her lavender shampoo flooding Steve’s nose. “I wanted you to...hold him. He hasn’t been held by many others. Oh, he likes you.”

The smile on the infant’s face did warm Steve’s heart, enough to slowly rub his fingertip over the infant’s nose.

“No, I think that just means he passed gas.” Steve’s nose wrinkled up at the smell but he, like Peggy found himself on caring as she snuggled into him. “If you don’t mind me asking - what does bring you all the way here and with an infant?”

“Work,” she yawned, picking up a heavy blanket to wrap around both of them. The storm was still going on outside and given the notifications on their phones, it was expected to go on for a while. “I start teaching at Brooklyn University in a week. They paid me to move here and to settle, even with my son. The hardest part was leaving him in NICU until he was strong enough to fly. But my...friends, Mr. Jarvis and his wife were able to care for him in there while I was gone. I felt like a terrible mother.”

“You are no such thing. You had no choice, Pegs. Come here.” It took some adjusting before Michael was situated in her arms and she was in his. He didn’t understand this - how did they get so close like this? He was just here to offer a flashlight and maybe rescue her from a baby blanket, now he was holding a tired mother in his arms.

“Pegs, from all that you’ve told me...from moving, losing your family, to...having to close estates and do paperwork back overseas, all after giving birth and leaving your son behind to be in the care of your friends, it shows how strong you are. You came back. You’re here now. He still loves you. No one judges you for that.”

Well, he could think of a few of those snobby nurses but hopefully, he thought she didn’t have to deal with them. 

“You’re here now,” he continued. “You’re making a life for the two of you.”

How was it that this was happening? That Steve found himself nodding off with a single mother and infant in his lap while a storm raged on around them? When the sun would later stream through the window, he’d find Peggy in the kitchen, unpacking the last of the pots and pans. His flashlights were piled back into his box, and the baby, sleeping in his bassinet again.

The blanket fell from Steve as he got to his feet and slowly crossed over to the kitchen, not wanting to wake the baby, just watching Peggy. 

She smiled as she turned around to hand him a cup of coffee, sipping on her own. “You looked so peaceful asleep, I didn’t want to wake you. The storm finally stopped.”

With no storm between them, it almost felt awkward with last night’s memory. The cuddling, the closeness, the sense of home, it felt foolish. Had he just imagined it all? 

“It did,” Steve mused, looking out the window. “I can help you unpack later, I have to go into the office and submit some new drafts. Would you...like to come with me? I think Michael could use a little bit of sun. His stroller is together, I worked on it last night while you changed him and the...the car seat. I have a Jeep we can use.”

The flush on the blonde’s cheeks told Peggy everything she wanted to know, the stumbling words were just added details. He wanted more time with her, with her son, and so did she. “To your place of work? Isn’t that a bit scandalous, Mr. Rogers? What would they say?” To Steve’s ears turning red, Peggy laughed. “I’d love to. We could make a day of errands. Do you mind - of course? It’s your vehicle after all.”

“If I minded, I wouldn’t ask.” Setting the mug aside, Steve reached around her to pick up a box of dishes before they started to fall to the floor. “Good. We’ll make a day of it, grab some breakfast.”

And maybe with luck, Steve could learn more about his new neighbor. Of course, when he’s not rescuing her from tangling baby blankets.

[femmetay]

do not reblog bc i’m sick of y’all (white people) reblogging my white woman posts more than the dozens and dozens of posts written by black people where they actually say how they feel about this.

this is a major venting post I wrote after checking my notifications in my posts from after I logged off for the evening. please if you are black or nonblack POC and you feel any of this is inappropriate, you can tell me and i will delete. I’m just a little angry this morning.

I’m here because I have 15.5 followers, it’s the biggest following I have on all my social media platforms combined, and there’s shit I need you guys to see. black lives matter. and when black people in this fandom are being spoken over and dismissed and minimized and invalidated by white people and even leaving the fandom because of it, I’m not about to just stop everything I’ve been reblogging and sharing. I’ll be louder about it, I’ll share more resources and information and spam your dashes with donation links and free donation streams and posts from black and nonblack POC who are directly affected by police brutality and a complete lack of basic human rights. But I can’t keep being on here and seeing white fans talking over black fans. I can’t keep being here and having people take the TWO posts I wrote echoing the confusion over Taylor’s BLM silence and filling my posts with arguments and reblogs while posts that actually matter from black people are ignored. I can’t watch a post I wrote in the heat of the moment about taylor get more notes in a few hours than the black trans fund post that’s pinned to my profile got in five days. You all show where your priorities lie when you visit my blog. I can’t watch y’all do the bare minimum and only open your mouths when you want to argue with black fans and people defending those fans. I can’t watch y’all say shit like “did YOU watch George Floyd’s Memorial? did YOU donate? did YOU sign petitions? when are YOU going to go out and protest?” to black people who are protesting their human rights and being attacked and killed in the streets. to the people who shouldn’t have to fucking donate because it’s their lives we are putting our donations towards. I’m sick of waking up to news of more rights being violated and more police brutality happening in the streets and coming to tumblr and seeing black fans being spoken over, even shouted over, dismissed, and written off as people complaining celebrities aren’t doing enough. these are fans who have met Taylor, hugged taylor, grown up with taylor, defended her to the death with so much noise every time she asked to be defended, and if you cannot listen to their feelings on BLM and Taylor’s silence then, then I don’t even know what to say to you. I just don’t.

I think a gross misunderstanding here is that white people keep asking, “Well what do you want her to do now?!?!?! What CAN she do?!?!! She posted a black square and 24 hour story on instagram. What else can she POSSIBLY do at this point?” and I fully believe the conversation was never “what more can she do” but was “She did way too little way too late and this is why black fans are hurting over it.” Responding to black fans and asking them to write a list of things taylor COULD have done or SHOULD have done is out of line because 1) black people should not have to tell taylor what she could be doing to let them know their lives matter to her and 2) they don’t owe a single explanation. to anyone. if you can’t understand by now why it must be exhausting for a black fan to have to tell taylor why their life should matter to her more than a black square and 13 black heart emojis and a 24 hour instagram story then it is truly not up to the black people in this fandom to fucking explain it to you.

I’m writing this because white people have to do better. I’m disgusted by the way you have behaved towards black and nonblack POC in this fandom. if you read this entire post thinking it’s me snapping about what taylor has or hasn’t done, then i am telling you right now this post is about me, a white person, being so fucking frustrated with other white people in this fandom and calling them out. Maybe some people will listen, most will probably just argue with me and reblog this even though I told them not to, but I am BEGGING you to listen to the black people in this fandom. people are dying in our streets. black people are being murdered at the hands of cops. the American rights to freedom of speech and freedom to protest are being violated, completely stripped, and it’s all being caught on video. basic human rights are being violated. while you all slept last night, more people were brutally injured by police while protesting peacefully and SWAT teams were arresting peaceful protestors at their homes, days after they had been at a protest. if you can’t shut up about desperately needing to defend Taylor while all 50 states and 18+ countries are protesting for black lives to matter, then go. just go. I’d rather see you all leave quietly than see black fans write posts about how they can’t be in this fandom because of white people and how white people treat them.

[fikidurin]

Prompt: The Price of Fame [AO3]

Celebrity!Kili AU, break-up and make-up

The public loved Kili.

Cheeky, charming and approachable.

He always had time for his fans, always stopped to take selfies and sign autographs. He took the time to educate himself on current events and issues before speaking out about his own opinions.

He took an active role in protests, donated to charities, and never forgot where he came from before he was a big time movie star.

Kili loved his life, he just wished he had someone to share it with.

Kigrid love affair? Kili Durin and Sigrid Bardsdottir spotted having a romantic candlelit dinner.

“It wasn’t a fucking romantic candlelit dinner,” Kili muttered, glaring at the headline of the crappy airport magazine. “And there were three other people with us that they’ve just cropped out of the picture!”

Shaking his head, he stalked away from the magazine stand, looking for his gate. He was going home, and he couldn’t wait to see his mother.

It wasn’t that he minded the rumours, it was the price of fame. He’d been linked romantically to countless costars, there was just never any truth in it.

The truth was, Kili had already given his heart away. It just hadn’t worked out.

Despite the many blessings he’d been given, the stars hadn’t aligned for his relationship with Fili.

It had been an accidental meeting and a whirlwind romance. Fresh out of a failed relationship, Kili had gone out to have a few drinks with friends. There’d been an accidental bump, a spilled drink, and Kili had whirled around to throw a punch.

He hadn’t banked on how adorably embarrassed Fili had been, or the attractiveness of the mouth that was apologising over and over.

They’d spent that night together, and the next. Three months later, Kili had all but moved in with Fili. 

Two days after that, he’d gotten a call from his agent.

Another two days after that, Fili had kissed him goodbye at the airport.

That had been two years ago now, and they hadn’t spoken since.

*

“I am so, so, sorry. I’m just… god, I’m just the clumsiest person in the world. Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?

“...yeah, okay. No harm done.”

“I’m Fili. Fili the fundamentally uncoordinated.”

“That must look really awkward on your passport. I’m Kili. Nice to meet you.”

*

Fili’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the hands-free display distractedly.

Kili Durin leaves costar Sigrid Bardsdottir’s manor in the early hours.

He swiped off the notification with irritation and hit the indicator with a little more force than was necessary, and then chastised himself mentally.

He was working, had to pick up yet another rich arsehole flying in from some mansion, and drive them around for the weekend.

He didn’t have time to be angry.

He shouldn’t be angry anyway. It had been two years.

Kili was allowed to date whoever he wanted.

It wasn’t wrong for him to move on. Deep down, Fili knew that. He was the weird one. He was the one who was still clinging on to what might have been.

The one following Kili’s career in the news.

The one still in love, though he’d never even admitted it aloud.

Fili pulled into the designated parking spot at airport arrivals and cut the engine. He needed to stop torturing himself with thoughts of what might have been. If things might have been different, if only he’d told Kili he loved him.

If only he’d asked him to stay.

Instead, when Kili had finished telling him about the audition, Fili hadn’t know what to say.

So he’d let him go.

*

“So? What do you think?”

“It sounds like the big break you’ve been waiting for. You’re not likely to get another chance like this.”

“You think I should take it then? It’s… it’s a whole year in LA.”

“Kee, of course you should. We never made any promises about this. About us. It’s still new. Too new for you to make any rash decisions, and I know I don’t want to hold you back. Take the role.”

“...yeah, okay. You’re right.”

*

Kili grabbed his suitcase from baggage claim and stopped to take a couple of selfies with some approaching fans.

“Is it true you’re dating Sigrid Bardsdottir?” One of them asked, bravely.

“Not at all.” Kili assured them swiftly, putting on a charming smile for the camera. “She’s just a friend.”

He ducked away at the first polite opportunity, wishing them a pleasant day, and began looking for his ride. It had all been arranged for him, under the pseudonym ‘Mr. Thorinson.’. Supposedly his driver would be holding up a sign with that name.

It was easy enough to find. He saw the placard and, weary from the long flight, was already halfway over before he bothered to look up at the man holding the card.

Only to stop dead, shock reflecting back at him along with recognition.

“Fili?” He gasped.

“Kili?”

Kili closed the gap between them, dropping his suitcase on the floor and enveloping Fili in a firm hug. Maybe if he’d thought about it for a second longer, he would have reacted differently, but he didn’t think so.

All he knew was a familiar face, a face he’d been yearning to see again. Luck and coincidence and maybe fate had brought them here.

And oh, Kili was just so happy to see him.

Fili returned the embrace just as tightly, Kili was glad to note. But all too soon they broke apart, not having any clue what to say.

“I… I’m working,” Fili mumbled, gesturing to his placard.

“That’s me.” Kili rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Mr. Thorinson was what my PA booked everything under.”

“Oh.” Fili’s face was unreadable. “The car’s this way, then.”

Kili nodded, feeling like there was suddenly half-a-dozen walls between them. Walls he wasn’t sure he could break down.

Walls he wasn’t sure he had any right to.

*

“What are you thinking? That’s your serious face.”

“That I’m going to miss this. Going to miss you. Being here, like this, with you… it makes me happy.”

“Let’s not talk about it anymore. Your flight leaves in, what, nine hours? Just for now, let’s be right here, in this moment.”

“I’m here, Fee. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

*

They drove in silence for a long way, silence broken only by the sound of the radio.

Kili had refused to sit in the back of the Bentley, separated by a screen. Instead, he’d climbed into the front with Fili.

“So… you drive fancy cars now?”

“It’s a job, and it pays well,” Fili shrugged. “We can’t all have movie star wages.”

Kili flinched, and Fili felt a bitter stab of satisfaction. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean? That I’m not making the most of my skills? Or maybe that I haven’t done much with my life since you’ve been gone?”

“I had no idea you thought so poorly of me,” Kili replied quietly.

Fili glanced away. “I haven’t thought of you at all,” he lied.

He didn’t mean to be so hostile. He really didn’t. But Kili was here and Fili was just so aware of how lacking his life was without him.

How he’d lost his drive to do more. Be more.

“I thought about you.”

Fili felt his anger drain. Why did Kili have to be so completely honest all the time? He always just said whatever he was thinking, and it was one of the things Fili had always loved about him.

“Yeah?” He asked wearily. “Was that before or after your date with Sigrid Bardsdottir? Or maybe after Tauriel what’s-her-name?”

“That’s horseshit and you know it. All of those rumours are crap,” Kili snapped. “That Tauriel rumour was less than a month after I arrived in L.A. If you think I would just tumble into bed with someone when I still hadn’t moved on from you, then—”

“Hang on,” Fili wasn’t even sure where to begin dissecting that sentence. “You’re trying to say that in two years, there hasn’t been a single person…?” He trailed off.

Kili stared out of the window, his jaw clenched. “No.”

“Bullshit,” Fili said eventually.

“Believe whatever you want. Fee… Fili. But it wasn’t me that ran out of the door. You told me to go. You don’t get to blame me for not immediately moving on.”

*

“You’re going to miss your flight.”

“I don’t care. Just… kiss me again.”

“Kee, are you crying?”

“Of course I am, you prat. I’m going to miss you.”

“You’ll forget all about me in a couple of weeks, once you get a taste of the celebrity life.”

“Not a chance.”

*

“That’s not fair, Kili. This was your big chance. I had no right to hold you back, to put that kind of pressure on you. We’d only been dating for a few months, we hadn’t even said… things.”

“I know.” Kili stared out of the window. Two years he’d been gone, and everything looked so different and yet so fundamentally the same.

“Then how could I ask you to give that up to be with me?”

Kili shook his head. “You could have let me know the option was there. You told me to go, so I thought… well, maybe you weren’t interested in me staying. Like you said, we’d never made any promises.”

When Fili didn’t immediately reply, Kili glanced over. “What?”

“I never wanted you to go,” Fili admitted.

Kili gave a bitter smile and turned away. “If only you’d said that two years ago.”

“Would it have made a difference? If I’d asked you, that day you told me about the audition, to give it all up and stay with me, what would you have said?”

Kili had thought about that exact scenario almost every night for the last two years. The answer rolled off his tongue without a second thought, before he could make any attempt to censor it or hold it back.

“I’d have told you I loved you. And that I wasn’t going anywhere.”

*

“This is Fili, leave a message.”

“Hey. It’s me. You’re probably driving home now, I’ve just gotten through security. I’m just sitting here feeling like I’ve made a huge mistake, Fee. I should stay. Please, just call me back and ask me to stay. I need to tell you that I love—”

“Message complete. To re-record your message, press 1. To delete, press 2.”

“... Message deleted.”

*

“You can’t know that.” Fili’s voice came out strangled, but he did nothing to repress it. Overcome with emotion, he pulled over at the side of the road, cutting the engine.

Kili had loved him too.

“I do. I called you from the airport lounge. I would have stayed.”

“Then you would never have known if you’d made the right choice. And even if you did, I wouldn’t have. I would have been always wondering if I’d made you give up your chance at the life most people dream of. I would have always wondered if you regretted it If you’d made the wrong choice.”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that,” Kili admitted. “But I can tell you with complete honesty that I did make the wrong choice by going.”

Fili nodded.

“I don’t have to make that mistake twice,” Kili offered quietly.

“Are you saying—?” Fili’d head snapped round, his mouth falling open in a gape.

“I’m saying that my feelings haven’t changed, not after all this time. Have yours?”

Fili exhaled. “No. But I have. As a person, I mean. We might not… we might not fit together anymore.”

But this time, he wasn’t going to talk Kili into leaving him behind. The choice had to be Kili’s, but Fili would present him with all his options.

“I’m in no rush to get back to L.A.” Kili smiled, holding his hand out. “We could find out.”

“I’d like that.” Fili took the offered hand and used it as leverage to pull Kili forward. Their noses bumped together slightly, and then Fili corrected his angle and kissed him gently.

“Stay,” he breathed, as their lips parted.

“Always,” Kili whispered.

*

“Hey Bilbo, this is Kili. I know I asked you for six months off, but the thing is… I’m getting married. And I’m ready to settle down out of the spotlight now.”

“I see. This isn’t entirely unexpected, but you’re a talented lad and I’m sad to see you go, my boy. I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask, though… are you sure this is what you want?”

“There’s not a doubt in my mind. I found where I’m supposed to be.”

“Then I wish you and Fili the best of luck. And if you ever change your mind and need an agent again, you know where I am.”

 “Thanks, Bilbo. You will come to the wedding, won’t you?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[petersasteria]

Write Like Hamilton - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom x Author!Reader

Requested? Yes! By anon x

Hamilrequest #41

“I wrote my way out when the world turned its back on me.”

I actually really like this request! Thanks for this anon <3

P.S. there’s some truth in this one. Hint: it’s the Chris Colfer thing. Let’s just say that Y/N was based on me lmao. I’m also finding it cute that this has 1998 words hihi

Everyone has opinions about someone or something. These opinions root from an issue that went viral and spread like wildfire. Regarding the said issue, the audience may say good things or bad things. Of course those who are victims of the said issue speak out and for some reason get hate or love for it, depending on the audience. Some victims choose not to speak out and they get all the hate in the world for addressing something the audience aren’t even included in. Some victims speak out, out of nowhere and just like that, they win in the issue.

An example of that would be James Charles, who single-handedly saved his own career by releasing a video. We won’t dig deeper into that, but James really did well in that part. Of course, there were people who still hated him, but at this point, I’m sure he doesn’t care about that anymore.

Like James, you became a victim of a certain issue that sparked out of nowhere. You were a very successful author. You wrote a lot of things from short stories to novels and from poetry to children’s books. You really wanted a wide range of people reading your books and that’s why a lot of people liked you, because families can read all of your books in one household and you were proud of yourself for that. 

With the money that you earned from writing, you were able to donate books to different schools around the world especially in third world countries who really needed it. You were basically an angel in the community of education.

Of course, not all people thought of that. They thought you were pretentious and that you were only doing it for publicity and money. They even had the audacity to say that you had a ghost-writer, but that was immediately debunked by your loyal readers and yourself, because you uploaded a video on your YouTube channel about the process of you writing a book. 

Life went well after that. Your career was sky-rocketing and you were able to catch the attention of the world’s famous heartthrob, Tom Holland.

He tweeted you first when you were bored out of your mind and decided to take a break from writing. You thought it would be a fun idea to interact with your fans, because they deserved it after all the times they’ve supported you and backed you up. So you tweeted that you’d be doing a #AskY/N. Tom obviously had your notifications on, because he was such a fan and he got really excited when he saw that. 

He wasn’t an active Twitter user and he normally wouldn’t check it, but he decided ‘fuck it, I’ll send in a question’. He wanted his question to be different from others so he asked you if you’ll be releasing a book that year.

You saw it and you were surprised that THE Spider-Man actually liked your work. You, of course, responded in a professional way: “@TomHolland1996 as a matter of fact, yes! I’ll be releasing a book this year. I’m actually working on it right now as we speak. It’s a children’s book.”

From then on, you both started talking a lot and somehow ended up dating. You’ve been dating for two years now and you loved every second of it. Both of you were really supportive in each other’s passion and career. Sometimes, he would even help you in writing a plot. In return, you would help in practicing his lines. You’d also help him and Harry with the script that they were working on. 

Your life could’ve been better if it weren’t for that person on Twitter who had a lot to say about you. That person tweeted something about you stealing ideas from Chris Colfer.

Glee star. People’s Choice Award winner. Teen’s Choice Award winner. Golden Globe award winner. Screen Actors Guild Awards winner. Emmy nominated actor turned author, Chris Colfer.

The tweet went viral and most of them didn’t know how to feel. Some people didn’t know who Chris was. Some people didn’t think you were stealing ideas from him. Some people agreed with that Twitter user who started it. Some took the time to read both yours and Chris’ books that apparently had major similarities and concluded that there were none.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t cry, because if you were being honest, that situation wasn’t worth crying for. The people who knew the truth was you and the people around you who knew where your ideas are from. You were really hurt, because of the accusation made against you.

You saw what happened to James Charles after Tati Westbrook uploaded that ‘BYE SISTER’ video. He was destroyed. You knew that the issues that were brought up against you and James were very different, your situation wasn’t. It was very similar.

Like Tati’s video, the tweet came out of nowhere. In this situation, the Twitter user was Tati and you were James. You couldn’t imagine how James must’ve felt when his mentor did him dirty like that. You also couldn’t imagine how alone James felt when he lost everyone.

You decided that you’d address the situation once everyone has calmed down. Tom wanted to argue, because he was really mad. He wanted to defend you like the good boyfriend he was. After all, before he met you, he was a massive fan and he still was. He read all of your books so he had no problem defending you.

You told him that he didn’t have to, because you had it under control. Besides, he couldn’t defend you when he hasn’t read the books of Chris Colfer, himself. You told him that he should at least read one book from Chris Colfer before saying anything. Tom felt stupid, because he never even thought of that. You assured him that it was alright, though.

You were really thankful that, like you, Chris Colfer hasn’t said anything. He’s an unproblematic public figure and you wanted him to live his best life.

The storm like issue started to calm down and as promised, you addressed the issue. You didn’t want to write a really long thread on Twitter, because you wanted to express everything that was going on in your mind for the past week. You made a wise decision by speaking out about it on your blog. You wanted it to be short and simple yet concise and full of information. After that, you tweeted: “Here’s my take on the issue said against me. *insert link to your blog*”.

Tom was really proud of you for writing your way out of that messy situation single-handedly. The person who accused you publicly apologized on Twitter and of course, being the forgiving person that you were, you forgave them and decided that the past was in the past.

After reading your statement, Chris Colfer tweeted you and said that he knew what was going on, but he wanted to hear your side instead of other people. He thanked you for being honest and he even DMed you on Twitter, asking if you wanted to collaborate for a children’s book.

Hi! It’s Y/N and in this week’s topic, I’ll be talking about the issue that I was involved in. I’ve been writing since I was fourteen and it wasn’t until I was eighteen when I started REALLY writing books. I sold my first book ever and I was really happy it was a success.

Then it turned into a full-time job over the years and I couldn’t believe it. All my dreams were coming true all because I decided to write down my imaginations and turn it into books. I haven’t stopped since and I don’t plan on stopping which is why I wanted to clear my name.

Out of all my years in writing, this issue was the first to really drag my name down and I’m not proud of it. After all, who would be proud to have their name dragged around for something they didn’t do?

To those of you who are confused, I was recently accused of stealing ideas for children’s books from Mr. Chris Colfer. Specifically, my first children’s book. A Twitter user said that when they read my first children’s book, it was very similar to Chris Colfer’s ‘The Land of Stories: The Wishing Spell’. I haven’t had the blessing of meeting Chris Colfer yet, but we both follow each other on Twitter. You could say that we’ve became acquaintances over the years of replying to each other’s tweets and participating in every QnA one of us tweets.

I’ve known Chris for a long time more so than he’s known me. You see, I’ve been a fan of his ever since he starred in Glee. You know, the tv show about these teens in glee club and their struggles in high school. This show has been diverse ever since the beginning and it’s one of the reasons why I love it. 

Chris was the reason why I wanted to write books and publish them. I was first in line when he released his first book ‘The Land of Stories: The Wishing Spell’ and it wasn’t until his third book ‘The Land of Stories: A Grimm Warning’ when I realized that I wanted to write and publish my own book. I sold my first ever book a year later and it was a success. 

For those of you who really know me, you’ll know that my first book wasn’t a children’s book. My first book was a love story and it was inspired by real people and my brain just decided it would be cool to mash them all up together. Kind of like that movie Valentine’s Day. 

The moment I realized that I could write a children’s book was when I babysat my niece and she asked me to tell her a bedtime story. Naturally, I picked a book from her book shelf but she told me she wanted story that was done by me. I wouldn’t tell her the story of the romance books I’ve written so, I racked my brains out to produce a story that a 6 year old could understand and like. She liked it. No, she loved it. I thought it wasn’t book worthy so after she went to sleep, I just wrote it in my drafts to include it in a short story compilation. I forgot all about it, but then a few months later, she died in a car crash. I was so heartbroken. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to grieve.

Then I remembered the story I told her, the one I made up on the spot; the one she loved. I decided that instead of crying my eyes out, I would continue writing that story. That, my friends, was how my first children’s book was born. That book was to pay homage for my 6 year old niece who would never grow up to see and feel the magic of life. That plot of that book was sincerely made on the spot and I kept making things up as I continued writing it. I’m very sure that there were no similarities from my book and Chris’ book. I know this because I’ve read ‘The Land of Stories’ a bunch of times. Maybe the magical part was the only similarity, but all kids love magic. It’s a given when you’re going to write a children’s book. Magic would be the first one to come up.

I don’t want to fight. Instead, I’ll be the bigger person. This statement is simply just addressing all the facts. I do not wish for my name or Chris’ good name to be sullied.

I’d like to end this statement by thanking Chris Colfer for inspiring me to pursue this career and Chris, if you’re reading this, I just want to tell you that I love your work and I support you and I hope we get to meet each other one day.

Thank you all for taking the time to read this.

* * * *

wow that was a long one and I loved this!! I’m really really proud of this one so I hoped y’all liked it <3

𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland​​​​​​​ @peachmaybnx​​​​​​​ @superheroesaremytea​​​​​​​ @ella-whyte

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell​​​​​​​ @justasmisunderstoodasloki​​​​​​​ @rubberducky-jrr​​​​​​​ @petersholland​​​​​ @osterfieldnholland​​​​​ @miraclesoflove​

[yandere-society]

Hello Lovely admins!!! Can I request Yandere Jungkook and Jin reacting to you having a secret sex Snapchat account? Or like one where you send nudes and stuff? Love y’all !!!

Broadcast

author/admin: kimseokmomjins🥀

a/n: Poor attempt at smut (heavy petting, degradation), possessive behavior, slut shaming

It was the day of the big Overwatch League match: Seoul Dynasty versus Vancouver Titans. Jungkook wanted to catch the first half of the game during his lunch break, so he set up the live stream on his work laptop and kicked back. While most of the stream chat was a constant influx of Korean, there was one message in English that kept popping up: “I’llBeYourBaby: Lonely and wanna talk to a cute egirl? Visit my stream😘✨ You won’t regret it 🍑” Jungkook scoffed at the plea for attention. The spiteful, cruel side of him felt the need to bully I’llBeYourBaby for whoring herself out to strangers. How desperate for money could someone be that they’ll sell their body for perverts on the internet? And what a lonely, miserable life a man must have lived to resort to paying an e-girl for a morsel of attention to be thrown their way. The very notion of internet prostitution, and sex work in general, was disgusting in Jungkook’s mind. But his conservative ways are exactly why he adored you.

You were the perfect girlfriend: responsible, considerate, loyal and sweet. You were committed to your job of tutoring English online, you were quick-witted, funny, and also enjoyed gaming just as much as he did.  In Jungkook’s eyes, you truly were the love of his life, and he was practically ready to drop down on one knee.

Out of pure spite, Jungkook clicked on the username, entering the live stream at the top of the profile. With a twisted sense of justice, Jungkook was ready to spew vitriol at the female streamer to further his agenda, but immediately, it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dumped over him. Jungkook expected the stream to be hosted by some busty, bimbo whose breasts spilled over her tank top while she played like shit in League. He expected some overly-flirtatious, inauthentic wannabe that was trying to make a quick buck from neckbeards. He expected anyone— everyone— except for you.

Unlike the risque, hypersexualized woman he had envisioned before, Jungkook saw that you were dressed somewhat modestly, wearing a simple white turtleneck, blush pink skirt and white knee-high socks. You weren’t flaunting your breasts or purposefully exuding sex appeal. Instead, you looked adorable as you fiddled with your purple galaxy Nintendo DS.

“Welcome, JustinSeagull! Thanks for joining my stream,” you greeted with a smile and wave. Jungkook found himself in a state of shock, unable to comprehend the predicament he’d just found you in. It certainly wasn’t a popular stream, but judging by the measly 16 viewers you were interacting with, Jungkook surmised that you were quite familiar with them.

knjkoya: baby, tell me why you’re so fine

jiiiiiimin: 😍😍😍😍

jiiiiiimin: step on me pls

Giggling, you addressed your viewers comments. “I would step on you, but Animal Crossing is so fuuuun,” you whined with a tiny, playful pout. “How was everyone’s day? Let me know below in the chat.”

HopeWrld: Thought about you all day 💚

CallMeJin: My day was fine, thanks for asking sweetheart. Are you enjoying animal crossing?

taetaebae: damn is it me or iss she acting mroe innocent than usual ??

You looked up from your DS to read the comments, giggling when you read the most recent ones. “Yes, I am enjoying myself, CallMeJin! Tom Nook is a huge jerk though, the interest rate on his loans are kind of bullshit,” you joked as you returned your attention to your device, uncrossing your legs slightly which gave your viewers a teasing glimpse of your underwear. Ones that Jungkook had gifted you for your 100 day anniversary.

As more comments rolled in, the filthier they became:

CallMeJin: Glad you’re having fun babygirl :)

knjkoya: i make 150k a year, i can pay off your loans any day if u just sit on my lap

D-Boy: im so fucking hard rn wtf

D-Boy: [COMMENT REMOVED BY MODERATOR]

Jungkook was in awe at the pure filth these degenerates were spilling. But most of all, he was upset at you— how could you demean yourself like this? How could you betray him? Jungkook pushed his sleeves up, ready to type a long-winded message defending your honor, a notification popped up on screen along with a gif of a cat pawing at the screen. Someone named HopeWrld had donated $100 to your stream.

“Oh! HopeWrld, thank you so much for the donation,” you chirped, “Since you helped me reach my goal, I’ll let you ask me one question, anything is fair game.” You winked at the camera, blowing a kissy face. Little by little, Jungkook’s perception of you was beginning to shatter, splintering into a thousand fragments. He thought back to all the times when you’d complain about receiving unsolicited dick pics, or reaffirm your idea that ‘men only think with their dicks.’ It was apparent Jungkook knew only of the side you wanted to show him, leaving him oblivious to the secrets you withheld from him— your very own boyfriend.

Despite the churning of his stomach, Jungkook remained firmly planted in his seat, unmoving, waiting to see how else you could disappoint him.

HopeWrld: Are you single?

Jungkook’s eyes burned holes into the computer monitor, anticipating your response. Since you were clearly lying to him, he assumed you’d do the same for your viewers. Perhaps you’d neglect to tell these scumbags that you had a boyfriend— one you’d been with for over two years, someone you shared a home with, no less. Jungkook’s tongue peeked out and wet his lips, the chapped skin craving any sort of moisture.

You sighed, folding the Nintendo DS in half and focusing your full attention at the camera. “Ah, interesting question.” Tucking your hands in your lap, you tilted your head slightly to the left, looking demure and shy. “I do have a boyfriend,” you admitted. Jungkook always found your mannerisms endearing, and even now, in the midst of his anger, he felt his heart beat erratically due to your telltale signs of nervousness: the twitch of your left eyebrow, the biting of your lip, the fiddling of your fingers.

“He doesn’t know I do this, though,” you quickly added. “It’s kind of my dirty little secret.”

D-Boy: Dirty little secret for a dirty little girl

taetaebae: i fuckin called it

taetaebae: @CallMeJin u still gonna act like a tryhard ?? lmao

knjkoya: i’ll give you $500 to break up with him, no kappa

Disregarding the comments, you continued to gush about Jungkook, although you didn’t explicitly mention his name. “But anyway, I’ve been with him for a few years now, and I love him so much. It would kill him if he ever found out about this.”

‘I love him so much’. Bullshit.

Jeon Jungkook knew everyone loved him, how could they not? Despite people likening him to James Dean or Adonis, Jungkook didn’t care much for his looks. He only cared about whether you found him attractive. The same could be said about any of his traits: his personality, his sense of humor, even the way he slept at night. The only love Jungkook cared about was yours. Your affection, your acceptance, your undivided attention.

Unlike him, though, you apparently craved the affections of other men— strangers from the internet who didn’t care about your generous soul and fragile heart. They only wanted to fuck you, discard you like trash until they found another shiny new toy.

Jungkook slammed his laptop shut, his mind clouded by fury, but still cognizant enough to formulate a plan. It was risky, but in the end it would ensure that you never consider straying from him again.

•·················•·················•

Your fingers deftly thumbed the buttons of the gaming device, controlling your Animal Crossing character as they collected seashells from the shore. Every now and then, you’d giggle, wink at the camera, read a comment or two, and then return to your game. It was easy money, and it also boosted your ego a bit. Jungkook, although being an attentive, caring boyfriend, whilst being a more than a generous lover, could be a bit suffocating at times. He dictated what you wore— more often than not, suggesting you wear couple outfits— carefully monitored your social media and even conducted background checks on all of your male family members.

Although it was twisted, you couldn’t help but feel validated at the small bits of attention you got through streaming. It was what kept you practically sane in your relationship with Jungkook, what ensured that you never snapped back at your boyfriend when he urged you to wear something less revealing, or when he scolded you for “flirting” with the older blind gentleman that lived in your apartment complex.

Humming contentedly, you delivered a package to a citizen named Purrl, only glancing up at your computer monitor to briefly acknowledge the chat, when you spotted Jungkook glaring at you from the doorway. Startling slightly, you hit Control + Tab and switched to Youtube, trying to look inconspicuous.

“H-Hi baby,” you greeted, smiled forced, yet still somewhat genuine. “You’re home early, I didn’t hear you arrive.” Jungkook clicked his tongue and pushed off the doorframe, stride confident and eyes set to kill. He responded vaguely, “Got out early.”

Jungkook approached you, his dominating presence settling over the back your white gaming chair. He feigned interest at your game at hand, “Well, what do we have here?” You glanced over your shoulder at your boyfriend, doing your best to keep your cool. “Ah, yeah, I’m playing Animal Crossing! Isn’t my character adorable?” You nudged the DS towards Jungkook who smiled politely— he knew that you knew that wasn’t what he was talking about, but Jungkook was certain that he could play the better liar.

He accepted the DS from your hands and inspected your character, before handing the electronic device back. “She looks just like you, Y/N. It’s cute.” You blushed, not because of his praise, but due to the embarrassment. Your livestream was still ongoing, meaning your viewers were seeing this entire awkward situation unfold, and you hoped to God that Jungkook didn’t notice the tiny green dot on your webcam. If he did, Jungkook would undeniably find a way to take away the only form of freedom you had to interact with the opposite sex.

“You know,” he mused, coiling a strand of hair around his index finger, “I also think it’s cute how you actually believe you can lie to me.” Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath hitched slightly as you tried to remain calm. You kept your concentration solely on Animal Crossing, trying to avoid your boyfriend’s scrutiny.  Jungkook leaned in closer until his face was level with yours. Peeking at him out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his focus was not on you, but rather on your computer monitor, right hand already poised on the mouse. The cursor dragged over to the leftmost tab and you sucked in a breath, an intense sense of impending doom coiling in your gut.

The screen changed to show a mirror image of yourself, alongside Jungkook, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips. Your secret had been exposed— and you knew it was only a matter of time, as keeping secret from Jungkook was a difficult task— but you hadn’t imagined it to happen this way. To be exposed on stream, by none other than your boyfriend.

You expected his fury, his disappointment— any sort of reaction, really— instead, feeling the tantric slither of his hand as it crept up your sternum.

“If you want to attention so badly, all you had to do was ask, babe,” Jungkook murmured into the shell of your ear, his body gracefully sliding itself under your thighs and repositioning you onto his lap. Tantalizingly slow, Jungkook’s fingers worked their way up the expanse of your chest until they nestled themselves over your breasts, his hands palming the clothed surface.

Although he was gentle, there was an underlying roughness to his touch. His fingers pinched the flesh of your breasts until it hurt, but would release a second later, only to alleviate the discomfort with soothing massages. Jungkook’s mouth rhythmically suckled pink bruises into the crook of your neck, eliciting a soft whimper. He smirked, satisfied that he was able to rile you up so easily. He lazily dragged his tongue up the column of your throat until his mouth rested right under your ear, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva in its wake.

His left hand relinquished control of one breast and acquainted itself with your inner thigh, his thumb toying with the elastic with featherlight touches. “You’re such a stupid little slut,” Jungkook purred, teeth nipping at your earlobe. “But at least you’re my little slut.” During all your moments of intimacy, Jungkook had never once bestowed upon you such a degrading name, as his kinks were more aligned towards praise rather than humiliation. But you surmised that his spiteful words were simply misplaced frustration.

How long had it been? Hours? Minutes? Seconds? It was impossible to tell, as you found yourself lost in the sensual motions, completely forgetting that, although you were in private, your stream was still live. You were only pulled out of your lust-induced haze when you heard the chime of your donation notification, reminding you that you had a small audience of onlookers. “Jungkook, the- the stream… I need to end the broadcast,” you weakly protested, trying to wriggle out from his grasp. Your boyfriend kept you firmly molded to him, his growing need nestled between the folds of your skirt.

“Let them watch,” Jungkook stated, brazenly making eye contact with the camera. “Since you clearly don’t mind the attention, why don’t we give them a run for their money?”

Your eyes widened, finding Jungkook’s shamelessness slightly erotic, but nevertheless feeling absolutely mortified at your compromising position. Comments were rolling in steadily, causing your heart to clench in self-loathing.

taetaebae: wtf wtf wtf

taetaebae: this shit is fuckin wilfd lmfao ����🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

D-Boy: what a hoe

HopeWrld: what is even happening

D-Boy: at least shes hot tho

“Kookie, baby please,” you pleaded, grabbing onto the one arm that fondled your breast, feeling the sinew of his muscles ripple under your fingertips. “I’m guh-gonna get banned if you k-keep- keep doing this.” Jungkook ignored your weak-willed objections and continued to torment you by sliding his finger into your slick heat. A moan was coaxed from your throat, the shiver from his sudden entrance causing you to lean into further into Jungkook’s chest.

knjkoya: Lucky bastard

CallMeJin: After all the money I’ve sent you?? At the very least, you could have just pretended to be a good girl, I’llBeYourBaby. Unsubscribing. Pokimane is hotter anyway.

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the visual in front of you: Jungkook’s right hand splayed across your chest, while his left hand sinful touches under the ruffles of your skirt— which was, thankfully, hidden low enough to not be captured on the stream— whilst his mouth worked in tandem, leaving your neck littered in splotches of pink, red and lilac. You looked like a mess, but felt completely invigorated.

But still, despite your body being pulled into euphoria, your mind was plagued with negative thoughts. These viewers, your followers, were one of the last few sources of entertainment left, and if the broadcast was reported then your IP would be banned permanently, which meant no more streaming, no more fun, no more freedom.

Pulling away from Jungkook’s lips, you attempted to stand your ground, craning your neck to face him. “Jungkook, please don’t do this while I’m live. Let me sign out and I’ll take care of you.” Your boyfriend’s eyes settled on your bite-swollen lips and the way your heavy-lidded eyes betrayed your protests to stop. He should get what he wants while respecting your autonomy, but the selfish, vile side within him screamed to punish, punish, punish.

Jungkook gently brought his lips to yours, giving you a tender, chaste kiss, lulling you into a false sense of security. You smiled shyly, a tinge of pink dusting your cheeks and Jungkook returned the gesture with one of his toothy grins. Ever so carefully, Jungkook raised his hips and pulled out something hard, firm, from his rear pocket— a thick bundle of crisp, $100 bills, totaling close to three grand.  

As soon as your guard had been let down, he shoved the stack into your mouth, effectively gagging you. His other hand clamped down on your wrists, preventing them from reaching the mouse or keyboard. “You want these loser scumbags to pay you while you act like their cute, sweet gamer girlfriend? How about cold, hard cash? Will that keep you satisfied, princess?”

Jungkook eyed the chatroom, his attention catching on a particular message that, if it could even be possible, made dick harden even more.

jiiiiiimin: you should just let us watch you fuck her

With a scoff and cocky grin, Jungkook tilted his head mockingly. “Like hell I will. Go get your dicks hard to someone who’s not taken.” And with that, Jungkook pushed off the chair, pinning you into the desk on your stomach, whilst his other hand palmed the flesh of your bottom, a telltale sign that a rather lengthy spanking would be coming your way. The sheer force of your readjustment onto the desk had sent the computer monitor and webcam tumbling off the desk, landing in a shattered mess on the floor, pieces of plexiglass and plastic littered everywhere.

You made a mental note: be sure to buy a new monitor after Jungkook’s punishment, and make sure the next one is shatter-proof.

[qqueenofhades]

the reason people prefer bernie over warren isn't that she used to be a republican, most people genuinely believe the positions she holds now. it's just that those positions A) aren't going to get her elected in a general election, because she comes across as wishywashy on medicare for all, which is much more popular among most americans than centrists think, and republican are GREAT at exploiting the wishy-washy B) isn't gonna cut it with us lefty dems either. bernie polls better against trump.

Hello there! Thank you for your contribution! *

As most people who follow me know, I am not a Political Discourse ™ blog in the usual course of things, and despise Discourse in general. Time is short, lives are precious, and usually arguing with people about politics on the internet is about the most unproductive use of such ever devised. But because you did arrive in my inbox with this opinion, which perfectly exemplifies the dangerous thinking that I was referring to in this post, which I presume is the reason for the pleasure of your company, we’re going to have a chat. I’m going to keep the snark to a minimum, because I am really not a fan of stoking Democratic tribalism or “my candidate is better than your candidate and I can’t vote for anyone else” pissing contests. That being indeed precisely what I was arguing in the above post, and the point of which, alas, you seem to have grasped but dimly. I am therefore going to go through this, because it needs to be deconstructed, and while I may make no impact on you, because I suspect your mind is made up, I am fortunate enough to have a decent following on this blog and maybe someone else will benefit from it. Who knows. The other option is Trump.

So.

Let’s take this one at a time. See for example your first claim, “Elizabeth Warren comes across as wishy-washy on Medicare for All.”

Well….

Have you tried going to her website (elizabethwarren.com) typing in “Medicare for All” and being redirected to the following document? It took me approximately eight seconds to find. It is also not just an attention-grabbing header. The full strategic plan below, when pasted into Microsoft Word, runs to an impressive goddamn 19 pages and almost 8,000 words. It outlines exactly what she will do to achieve this and concludes:

Medicare for All is the best way to guarantee health care to all Americans at the lowest cost. I have a plan to pay for it without raising taxes on middle class families, and the transition I’ve outlined here will get us there within my first term as president. Together, along with additional reforms like my plans to reduce black maternal mortality rates, ensure rural health care, protect reproductive rights, support the Indian Health Service, take care of our veterans, and secure LGBTQ+ equality, we will ensure that no family will ever go broke again from a medical diagnosis – and that every American gets the excellent health care they deserve.

Hmm. Focusing specifically on African-American maternal mortality rates, rural health care, protecting reproductive rights, support for Native Americans, vets, and LGBTQ people? I understand, however, that this can’t cut it with “us lefty Dems,” which you proclaim with the proud assurance that you and the Twitter circles of your acquaintance are in fact the only ones. I’m also… not entirely sure which candidate you’re confusing Warren with, since there are two (2) progressive candidates in this nightmare of white no-name and/or billionaire milquetoast male moderates. Their names are Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders. And every single Warren fan I know is willing to vote for Sanders if he gets the nomination, including me. I made a public pledge to vote for the Democratic candidate even if it’s Goddamn Joe Biden. You can see it here. If you are going to demand miles of receipts for Warren before you consider voting for her (and when her positions are similar to or in several cases, particularly for women, MUCH BETTER than Sanders, yes I said it), then you’re really not going to like what it looks like for the other candidates in this race. Also, are you asking these questions for Sanders, your own preferred nominee?

Next, you…. you do realize the privilege that is dripping off this ask, right? The exact thing of which I also addressed in the previous discussion:

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally.

That is…. at least as presented in this ask, exactly what’s happening here. You’re saying that you (and this mythic America/Lefty Dems ™ of which you grandly extrapolate) can’t vote for Elizabeth Warren because you’re just not vibing with her on the language of a policy proposal which she enthusiastically supports and has written a detailed 20-page manifesto on how to achieve? You really, really believe, deep down in your Bernie Bro Internet Politics bones, that you cannot vote for the smart, fearless, extra-qualified Democratic woman opposing the bankrupt reality star rapist who is literally a Neo-Nazi white supremacist whose administration is wrecking the planet and putting children in cages at the border? To name just one of the Scandal-A-Days that this nightmare administration churns out? Because the Lefty Dems (and please do not lump me and the other active leftist Democrats I know into whatever you’ve got going on here) just won’t stand for that?

Do you even hear yourself?

Did we learn nothing at all from 2016???

I’m going to guess that I’m older than you. I’m not sure whether that matters, but there’s that. It means I remember 9/11, the Bush years, the financial crash of 2008, and how this already went once before. I have also just moved back to the United States after almost half a decade in the United Kingdom, which is currently experiencing its same slow-motion disintegration into hard-right economic isolationism, xenophobia, and late-stage capitalist oligarchy. I’m also a professional historian. So it means that I, for better or worse, have a certain perspective on this, the overall patterns, the way the world has stumbled into this destructive consumerist capitalist 21st century, and what it’s doing to us.

We do not have much time left to fix any of this. I don’t care if it sounds alarmist, it’s true. If you are younger than me, this is also going to become disproportionately your generation’s problem. Rigid intellectual purity tests are exactly the thing that is preventing the left from mobilizing behind one candidate to get Donald Fucking Trump and his cabal of shameless criminals out of there before they kill the lot of us. And I’m not going to back down from saying that mindsets like the one perfectly exemplified in your ask are far more helpful to the Republicans than they are to any of us.

I have said it before, I’ll say it again: I will vote for, donate money to, and raise awareness about whoever the Democratic nominee is. If it’s Sanders, I’m going to friggin’ become a Bernie or Buster. Because at that point, his opponent would be Trump!!! If I am living in a state where it would remotely make a difference in November 2020, since at the moment I’m in Bumfuck Red State Nowhere, I would consider canvassing or volunteering for the campaign, and I am a severe introvert with social anxiety who hates talking to people when I don’t have to. And if I am willing to do this, and you and Lefty Dems ™ of your hallowed intellectual proclivities are sitting on your backsides and bitching about how Warren seems wishy-washy on Medicare for All, well then. One of us is more the problem than the other one, and it isn’t me.

(Also. once again, Bernie Sanders is eighty years old and just had a heart attack. Sorry. That remains an issue for me. There’s a year to go of grueling non-stop campaigning before the general, if he wins the primary. I’m not convinced.)

In conclusion, I have recently adopted a policy of donating a few dollars to Elizabeth Warren every time someone appears in my inbox or notifications with a comment like this. So when I thanked you for your contribution at the start of this post, I was in fact thanking you for your extra-generous donation today, December 10, 2019, to Elizabeth Warren for President:

Peace.

[princessofprocrastination]

Just A Bet (GeorgeNotFound)

MASTERLIST

pairing : georgenotfound / george x reader - dreamwastaken/dream / clay x reader

summary : you’re just a bet to him. that is, until he realizes that you’re someone with a title. he scrambles to pick up your broken pieces, but he doesn’t realise that he’s too late. (angst) (trigger warning) (happy ending)

a/n : here’s sorta a little AU for you guys, don’t take any of this seriously, some things in this are clearly made up. side note ; holy shit i have more than a 100 followers right now. thank you so so much. 

everyone has probably dreamt of being a princess, a real one. for example, when the movie ‘the princess diaries’ came out, people wanted to be mia thermopolis and rule genovia. 

sounds like a dream, that is, to be going to high school and have plenty of paparazzi’s chasing you, or to be able to be recognized everywhere. 

in reality, it is the complete opposite of living the dream. you could barely walk out without being recognized if you didn’t cover up your face in some way. you were restricted to do many things, even to just hang out with your friends to grab lunch. 

to other people, they might just tell you to suck it up, that in the end of the day, you’re royalty, and that these are only tiny problems. 

you agreed, sure. but you did want to smell the fresh flowers outside. you wanted to be able to get food from wherever, with whoever without people’s prying eyes. 

you just wanted freedom. 

to whom might be reading this might be confused. you’re a princess. just like the movie, yes. princess of saudi arabia, you are. 

you are fairly young, still in your twenties. most people your age are out having fun going on a girls night, or still studying for their degrees, or even working right now. 

but you were prohibited to leave the castle. you were told to leave on the queen’s orders, only during meal times.

some days, you really liked it, being a princess. if you weren’t being egoistical, you would say that your face really did suit the royal title. 

you didn’t have to leave your room to make stacks of money. but the problem with that was, what would you do with the money if you couldn’t leave the house?

so you went on the internet. you settled on the internet. with the queen’s permission, of course. 

sure, she can be strict like all the time, but she tried her best to give you your freedom. so she let you have social media accounts. you being you, the public immediately found your accounts. 

you couldn’t find new friends, they were too scared to come across you. so you just entertained yourself. 

this isn’t bragging, but a lot of people knew who you were, but that doesn’t mean everyone does.

since you barely had a childhood, with being born and raised royal, you entertained yourself watching minecraft youtubers. for some reason, it calmed you. 

dream team, as you called the group, caught your eye. you watched all of their videos, caught up with every single live streams of theirs, even followed their instagrams and twitters. 

one morning, when you woke up, you found your instagram notifications fuller than other days. you were fairly confused. that is, until you realised that the whole of dream team had followed you back. 

they definitely know who you are and what you do now, right? they have a large fanbase, surely, they would’ve told the boys. 

your followers, since seeing the boys follow you, have told you to start playing games. you didn’t disappoint them. you asked your parents if you could and they granted you permission to do whatever you wanted. 

they told you “this would entertain the public and love you even more.” and smiled at you. you thought maybe they hit themselves in the head today with the leniency they gave you. but you pushed that thought. maybe they thought you have grown old enough. 

valkyrae, a streamer on twitch had reached out to you after knowing about your gaming desires. she asked if you wanted to join her and her group to play among us together. 

you almost immediately agreed and the rest of her friends welcomed you in with opened arms. 

your mum gave you one condition, that you had to follow in order to film yourself playing games. that is, if you kept yourself poised and respectable. you agreed to her shenanigans and started to play with rae. 

playing with her meant that you met countless different content creators, such as corpse husband and pokimane. they all were super nice to you, even when you had told them that they didn’t have to be nice to you because of your title. 

soon you had found yourself in an amazing group of friends and you felt great about yourself. 

you and rae had sustained such amazing friendship that she had came over to your house multiple times for meals. 

you’d text her “come over to my house, let’s eat lunch.” 

and she’d reply with “your castle you mean?” she jokes around. 

your friendship was loved by many people out there. 

one thing you didn’t say was that not everyone was obligated to know who you are, which then happens to be funny to see when they did end up finding out who you are. 

just the fact that they show such shock to their faces, and the tone in their voice changes. 

“holy fuck, she’s royal.” toast says as he came back from googling your name to know more about how you came about in a game of among us. 

“i’m so sorry for the past rounds.” he apologizes for the time he accuses you for no reason.

“please treat me the same way you used to, i’m just y/n when i’m playing games, definitely not a princess.” you told him. 

you didn’t have a big ego, although your parents did. “they need to know that you’re important.” they told you, but it never stuck to you. you wanted to be respected as a person, for your personalities, not because of a stupid title you were born in. 

sykkuno, rae and you had decided to make an smp, where you three would start building things for fun and stream it. 

you three had enough fun until it got boring, for you to start asking your other friends to join. the first person you offered to tour your little world was corpse since you and him had clicked so well. 

because you started playing minecraft and streaming it, it got the attention of minecraft youtubers. and for some reason, the seventeen year old, tommyinnit had found you interesting enough to talk to you. 

with tommy being that close to you, you attracted tubbo and wilbur soot, as well.

“i am in a vc with a princess.” tommy had said on stream when you two decided to play minecraft along with tubbo and wilbur. 

sure, the teenage boy got a little annoying at times, but you found it entertaining and funny. of course, tommy being tommy, he’d ask slightly personal questions about how royalty works in saudi arabia. 

not that he knew how royalty works in general, anyways. 

“the queen is still my favourite woman, but you come in close second.” he told you once. you laughed at that. 

no big title could stop you from fangirling the moment the man, dream itself had sent you a donation, and then later sending you a direct message. 

“let’s play minecraft together soon, seen me your discord.” he dmed you one day. of course you complied. 

for some reason, you never had the chance to play with george, and you played minecraft with sapnap and dream separately, never together. not that you were complaining. 

you decided on a more chill and laid back stream on that specific day, not really feeling like going on a minecraft server or play among us with your bestfriends when you got a text from an unknown number. 

hey. they sent

who’s this? you sent a text back.

my bad, this is george. they sent a text back to you.

holy shit. why would george text you. sure, you have played minecraft and among us with him sometimes but he isn’t one to give out his number so this was weird to you. 

although you consider to be close to the entirety to the dream team, you often tried to avoid texting them, especially outside of streaming. you didn’t want it to be awkward or tense. 

surprisingly, as your conversation with george lengthened, it became less and less awkward. the more you two texted, the more you felt like you and him had been friends for the longest time. 

being the princess, raised in a castle meant that you didn’t really have a social life. other than being put together with some prince of another country in hopes you’ll fall in love with them or marry them, you haven’t really had a legitimate boyfriend. not even a crush. 

to you, the princes in the world can be arrogant, snobby. they act like they are the most important thing in the world, that if they walk in a restaurant, everyone was to drop all their work for other people to entertain them. 

sure, this could just be the way that they were raised, but you didn’t want that in a man, a husband. it wouldn’t kill to be a little humble. 

princes are also a bore. they live practically the same lifestyle as you. conversations were never interesting, always the usual. 

to summarise this, since you and george have been talking and texting, you had fallen for him. hard. and it seems like he’s feeling the same way, just that the both of you hadn’t really said anything. 

-

DREAM’S POV

being really close friends with someone, more than one person, bestfriends, that is, meant that we had a group chat together. 

nothing constructive was ever said, only boys being boys. 

nick was the one to bring it up. and since he is the youngest, he sure does say some stupid things. 

dude, you should try to get in y/n’s pants. nick asked george in the groupchat.

there was a running joke between the nick and i. george lives under a rock, basically. when everyone was walking on eggshells around you, trying not to offend a princess, he never really cared. 

and that was when nick and i found out that george had no clue you held such a title on your pretty little head. 

you are a beautiful girl, no doubting that. i was sure that many people, even before you started streaming had a major crush on you. george definitely fits right in. he was practically vomiting hearts when he first saw you. 

it was meant to be funny. it was never meant to go this far. nick didn’t mean for his little bet to break a heart, let alone a princess. 

but he did. well, technically george did. he was so brutal with it. he toyed with your feelings, like he had no care in this world. 

no one would’ve guessed that the little cute, short george would do something as bad as he did. 

and now, no one can find you. no one. 

you were there, smiling in front of your camera one day and you were gone the other. just gone. no one knew where you went. 

granted, you are royal. it must not be hard to get people to hide you. but at the same time, you had major reporters trying to find you. and they couldn’t. what does that leave us? 

where did you go? 

come back. 

and although i know you want to hear this from george instead of his friends, you won’t. because he probably doesn’t.

we miss you. 

please just text us, we need to know you’re safe. 

-

YOUR POV

you left. you had to. it had been extremely humiliating. 

you didn’t think someone as sweet as george would do that, it all happened so quick. 

you had flown to england to meet him. he encouraged you to. it felt amazing to leave your hometown, you’ve lived there all your life. you definitely needed to fresh air. 

it took a lot of convincing your parents to let you fly to england. without a doubt, you knew that the only way you’ll get to leave is if you had a guard with you. 

this isn’t that kind of cliche story, your guard could literally be your dad, get your head out of the gutter, you are utterly in love with george, and you were sure george knew that and that’s why he encouraged you to fly to him. 

the first couple of days were fun. he brought you to all over brighton for you to experience what it’s like in england. he told you he wanted you to get your first real experience as a tourist, and that was what he did. 

winding down for the night, you brought him to relax in your hotel suite. frankly, george was surprised that you could afford such a place. but he didn’t want to ask where you got the money from, he didn’t really care. 

all he wanted to do was to complete his dare. his ego was too big to lose this time. 

that night was when you decided to tell him about your feelings about him. you were pretty confident that it was going to go smooth sailing. just the way he treated you showed so much about his feelings. 

so you did, you told him. while you told him that you love him, more than friends love each other, he looked you in the eyes. you weren’t sure what that meant. 

but he smiled. or smirked, you weren’t sure. 

and he kissed you. and the night didn’t end with you just kissing. 

so you thought the night was amazing, that it couldn’t get any better than that. 

that was, until you woke up the next morning. 

-

you woke up, sun shining straight into your suite, curtains wide open. 

although you didn’t really feel the presence of another person in the room with you, you brushed it off. you felt like something was off, that something was missing. 

you rolled over in your hotel bed, to see if the british man was laying next to you. 

he wasn’t. in fact, he was not in the hotel room at all. you checked the bathroom, the small little living room in your suite. he was found nowhere. 

you tried to see if he had left traces of himself in your hotel room, a sign that he was indeed there and that you hadn’t been dreaming it all. 

but the pain between your legs caused by the brit told you that it was all not a dream. 

so you did what a logical person would, text him. maybe he left to get food. 

but you knew that wasn’t the case the moment you had unlocked your phone. 

texts flood in, your social media notifications seemed to not be stopping anytime soon. 

you opened your texts messages. a couple from your parents, a lot from rae, multiple from some minecraft youtubers who you called friends. 

besides your parents, they were asking if you were okay. they were telling you to stay safe and to lay off social media for a while. 

your parents were practically screaming at you through texts. they called you a disgrace, not an honour to the family. you didn’t understand where this was coming from. 

you opened twitter, knowing that it was going to be the easiest way for you to find out what had happened, and why were you involved in it. 

you were trending. number one worldwide. you clicked on your name. your phone left your hand, falling hard to your hotel floor with a loud thud as you covered your mouth with both your hands, crying. 

two pictures. two photos that said it all. 

first photo was of you in bed, obviously naked under the hotel duvet. you were still sleeping. there was light coming from the windows, that showed that it had barely been sunrise when it was taken. 

second photo was what hit you the hardest. you wanted the earth to swallow you from below. it was a photo of your back, very naked back. it was clear that it was a photo that had been taken during sex. 

and it was obvious who you had it with, because he was the one who posted it all over twitter. 

george. 

that was why he left, with no traces of him ever being in the hotel room. 

you weren’t sure what was his motive. but you sure did know that he had completely broke you. 

crying, you picked up your phone from the floor, calling rae. 

“oh my god, tell me you’re okay.” she was panicking on the phone.

“i need to leave.” you told her. you knew that she would immediately understand the severity of the four words you told her. 

since then, you never came back. to the eyes of public, it was as if you never even existed. you were gone. 

-

you moved with rae. 

she had to leave her roommates to settle in with you. her roommates weren’t mad at her for leaving them. they completely understood, you needed the help.

although her roommates wanted to help you, they couldn’t. you needed to have the least amount of people to be with you. 

it didn’t help that they were all content creators, too. 

rae told people that she moved because she wanted her own space, so that she can make better videos. when she announced she was moving, not one person speculated that you had been the reason of her move. 

you paid for the house, you needed to. you owed her. no matter the amount of times she told you that you owed her nothing, that she was just doing it because she loves you, you couldn’t let her pay for a single thing. 

you needed to up your security, too. so you two had decided to get a house that was pretty big, somewhere in the mountains, with top security, away from other people. 

your parents soon calmed down after that day. they told you to come back, the begged you to come back. but you told them that you needed the time alone at that moment, and assured them that you would be okay. 

so they did what parents would. they made sure you were well taken care of. they sent you massive amounts of money, sent your their trusted guards to stay around the house. 

they did this all for you without the knowledge of the public. 

your parents told reporters that you were well safe, and would not be in the public eye, not until you were ready. 

you helped rae film certain videos. well, not like there was anything good to do in the massive mansion, anyways. 

all your social media pages were still up, just not updated. you left everything. you had created a more private one, for your close and trusted friends to follow. 

and you thought that nothing could really top that eventful day in england. 

but it did. 

you’re sat on toilet in on of the bathrooms, rae rubbing your back.

pregnant. it was clearly written on the test.

no fucking way. 

-

in no ways were you ready to be a mother. 

as a little kid, you had dreamt of being a mum, alongside a successful man who took responsibility. 

you never would have seen yourself to be a mother alone, with the help of your bestfriend. 

you never thought that you would be a mother, whose dad is someone who clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you. 

rae stayed with you all the time. even through the gross vomit sessions in the morning, or all the time, in your case. 

but you were in no way shape or form ready for a child. you had to raise a child on your own. even the thought of that had emotionally drained you. 

weeks after you found out you were pregnant, you were significantly getting more moody, and rae knew that. 

she made sure you ate well, slept well and kept up with eating vitamins each day. that was until, you couldn’t take it all anymore. 

maybe it was the stress. well, it was the stress. 

you blamed it all on the emotional toll the pregnancy took on you. your body was practically screaming for help. help that you need, but you weren’t in the right head space to offer the help to yourself. 

it was a typically normal day for rae and you. besides rae screaming in her gaming room while streaming, it had been pretty quiet. 

you felt queasy, but you pushed it off. it was normal for you nowadays. everything almost made you throw up. the look of something, the smell. 

but on that day, it was a different type of feeling in your stomach.

one second, you were walking into the kitchen, trying to get some water, and the other, you were on the floor, in pain. 

you screamed. this was the worst type of pain you’ve felt in your life. you screamed for anyone who could hear you. you were sure that even rae’s stream could hear you, but you didn’t care. 

soon you heard multiple footsteps. one of your guards came to your aid before rae did. he supported your head on his lap, him sitting on the floor. 

he told the other guard who came soon after he did to call the ambulance. 

that was when you finally found out what was happening. 

“holy shit, she’s bleeding.” rae repeated to herself. 

you were bleeding? that wasn’t good, right? that meant bad things, doesn’t it?

you felt like you were floating, like your limbs were as light as a feather. that was because you were losing consciousness. 

you lost it. you lost it and found out it was a boy. 

now the two boys you love more than your life aren’t here with you, forever. 

you cried for weeks, rae next to you, making sure you were still alive and eating. she was the only one that stayed by your side in real life. sure, your online friends did care about you, but they just couldn’t be there with you. 

clay and nick had always been texting you, sometimes calling to try their luck, clay mostly. you knew they cared about you, and they wanted to make sure that you’re okay. but you felt embarrassed. you didn’t want to face anyone, even if people kept saying that you did nothing wrong. 

apparently rae’s stream heard your scream, and that was how rae found out that you were in danger. she couldn’t hear through her headphones, but her chat kept spamming her about it, and that raised alarms. 

they kept asking about the ‘mysterious girl screaming’ in rae’s stream. it was short lived, though. rae told them that she had a friend over and that they were injured, and that rested the chaos for a little. 

you were sure that some people knew you were living with her. most of them were almost like detectives, after all. 

you didn’t blame the stans. it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you would live with her, anyways. 

since the awful day at the hospital, you have texted clay and nick. you wanted to tell them that you were okay, that you aren’t hurt, at least not physically anymore. 

it didn’t take you long to start calling clay daily again. other than rae, you didn’t really have anyone. so you told clay. 

it felt weird talking about a baby that used to be in you to someone whose bestfriend was the dad of. but he completely understood you. sure, he couldn’t say for experience, seeing as he clearly can’t get pregnant, but he supported you, made sure you let it all out to him. 

you and clay grew close, almost bestfriends. although you and nick were close, he’s still in college, and that meant that he usually didn’t have time to talk to you as much as clay did, and you didn’t blame him. school can be a pain in the ass.

but you still made sure to never keep nick in the dark. as much as clay is one of your bestfriends, so is nick. 

clay made sure never to talk about george to you, which deemed to be difficult since they had been friends for years. he had accidentally slipped his name out to you a couple times, but you were sure he didn’t meant to do that. 

other than the usual “george has been sleeping like a log” and “he slept through the smp war.” you hadn’t heard anything else about him, but it seemed like he was doing well. 

clay had told you about the bet. 

“nick brought it up, but we didn’t think he was actually going to go through with it.” the floridian said. 

you aren’t the type to hold grudges, not even if they did you really dirty, so you told clay that you were on the path of being fully healthy and that he didn’t need to apologise for his friend’s behaviour. 

“are you ever going to come back?” he asks you in a facetime call. you knew exactly what he was talking about. he wanted to know if you’d ever come back on the internet. 

you didn’t even know the answer yourself. you weren’t sure. so you told him that. 

“maybe, maybe not. who knows.” and that was months ago. 

you had plenty of time to heal, to get back on track. but nothing could top your pain of losing your child, that you never got to hold, to kiss, to spoil. 

telling your mother about the loss of your baby was the hardest. she is a traditional woman, always telling you to get married before bearing children, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love the baby you were carrying in you. 

she cried on the phone, sobbing, hiccupping. you wanted to hug her so bad, she even asked you when you’d come back, but you told her you needed time, but you’d be there soon. 

for some reason, although you got maximum hours of sleep each day, you still felt exhausted. you consulted a doctor, but he told you that it was normal since your body is still fragile, but the exhaustion never really went away as months go by. 

being bored at home, and hearing rae having fun made you feel lonely, it made you feel like you were left out. so you made the decision to come back. not to stream, but to appear in rae’s videos.

rae and the rest of the group welcomed you with open arms. they were caring and made sure you felt comfortable again, not stepping any boundaries. not that you cared, the public was bound to know everything soon enough. 

so you did that. 

you were playing proximity chat among us, with the usual people. at that point, you and the other nine people were still in the lobby, chatting, until corpse sounded out. 

“what have you been doing nowadays?” harmless question, in your opinion. 

you didn’t want to hide anything anymore, and rae knew what was about to happen.

“been having a lot of rest. doctor said that i’m still fragile.” you told corpse. 

“are you sick?” toast asks. some people would’ve been offended at that question, or take it the wrong way, but you didn’t. 

“actually, i suffered a miscarriage recently.” you told them honestly. 

there was no awkward silence. immediately, everyone started apologising, saying “sorry for your loss.” 

you brushed them off, telling them that it’s okay, that they didn’t offend you at all for asking that question. 

“feels good to get it out my chest.” you told them, laughing at the end of that sentence. 

“she hasn’t slept well at all, she really wanted to tell you guys.” rae told her

one by one, they all spoke to you, asked you if it was even okay that you all talked about it on streams. you told them that it had been your choice to tell people this way, and they had nothing to worry about. 

on the other hand, it was tough for george. not at first, though. he thought it was going to be easy, having sex with a pretty, virgin girl and ditch her alone in a country she she hasn’t personally been to.

but that changed the moment she disappeared. the guilt never really hit george until people started bashing him on the internet. 

at first, people were too focused on the girl. people discriminated you, called you a slut. they didn’t think that george was wrong at all, although he was the one who took the explicit photos and posted it. 

but then, people, mostly woman had started to realise indeed how messed up it was. 

george really couldn’t care that you “left.” but then people kept on commenting on his posts. specifically, they often left a comment saying “really bold of you to do that to a princess.”

at the start, he thought the comments meant that they couldn’t believe he did such terrible things to their princess, someone wholesome they cherished. he didn’t realise that his comments literally meant that you are a princess. 

so he googled it. he wanted to know why people kept calling you ‘princess’ or ‘next on the throne’. he was curious, and he wasn’t expecting it all to be real. 

when he googled your name, a huge google tab came out. 

princess of saudi arabia. 

this must be a typo, right? he couldn’t deny that you are indeed a pretty girl, he just couldn’t believe that he had done such things to someone so royal. 

he never even thought that one day, he would score to talk to celebrities, let alone be able to be in bed with an actual princess. 

so he doubted it. 

but then he kept looking. 

he looked at images of you. photos of you with a small tiara, next to what seemed to be the queen of saudi arabia, wearing a long, modest emerald gown. the photo was taken when the king had a birthday. 

picture after picture, he started to doubt his thoughts even more. 

he couldn’t lie, your face really fit the title. if he really thought about it, your existence screamed royalty. the way you spoke, your poise, the way you strut in a hallway and was able to wow a crowd without trying. 

george always assumed that people only stared at you in public because of how beautiful you are. he never really realised it all until now. 

usually, guys can be insecure when they hear rude comments about how a lanky man is able to get a beautiful, confident woman. but to george, he felt even more egoistical. he used you, truly like a trophy wife. 

that was until he really realised. 

now, he thinks that everything he did was just a plain asshole move, not saying it isn’t if he did it to any other normal girl.

“i fucking messed up” he thought to himself, reading press conferences about your princess title.

if he thought he messed up then, wait till he found out you were pregnant, and then later losing it. 

he felt like he was in a fever dream. it felt like a written book, not real life. 

he kept slapping himself, pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. it all felt unreal. so many things were happening. 

now, he’s more concerned than guilty. he wanted to know if you’re okay. even he felt like he can’t cope with the information he was given, how would you feel?

furthermore, he kept reading theories that the scream in the background of valkyrae’s stream was yours. had you lost the baby there? had you lost his baby there?

-

he called clay and nick. he wanted to double check. it was all a lot to handle, knowing you’re a princess and a mother in the same week. 

nick screamed at him on discord for hours, literally. george knew clay was just as mad, just as disappointed. he just didn’t have the energy to say it all, even though all he wanted to do was fly to england and beat george up. 

although it took george a while to realise everything he did was messed up, he came to. and he really did want to contact you. but really, anyone in your position wouldn’t even glance at his name twice after what he did. 

he was happy that you were looking healthy on rae’s stream. although you weren’t really ready to stream on your own again and many people understood that, and never pushed you. 

but whenever he saw you sometimes on rae’s facecam, he could see that pain, deeply hidden in your eyes. you were trying to cover up the fact that you were still trying to heal. 

-

CLAY’S POV

it was infuriating to see george not really giving a shit at first, and then changing to a new man. it took you to tell the world about your lost child for him to own up to his mistakes.

nick and i had been friends with him for years, it takes a lot to just dump a friend, a close one at that. so we did what we could, help him wake up from this “dream” he’s in. 

that didn’t mean we weren’t mad at him still. 

if he didn’t want to own up, i will. 

-

the subsequent years came by and went really quickly. people were starting to forget the drama that you and george were in. people soon became uninterested about it, but still stayed with you, encouraging you to heal slowly and take your time. 

that was what you liked about the internet. granted, some people can be mean, but the people who supported you were the ones that helped you keep going, helped you find a reason to wake up in the morning. 

no, you’d never forget that you lost a child, and you were reminded by the people on the internet who made it a pact to make sure george never forgot that too. 

george did end up talking to you a couple years ago. you accepted his apology, but not him. you were sure he only wanted to apologise after knowing that you were the next in the throne. 

speaking of throne, you were back in the castle. not permanently, but you visited often. you still lived with rae, and you had actually started streaming on your own again a few months before george reached out to you. 

clay and nick had been supportive of you since the start, still clearly apologetic even though you told him that you had forgotten about it and that it hadn’t even been their fault in the first place. 

but they were persistent, clay more than nick since nick was still very busy with college. you loved the two of them and considered them to be one of your best friends, aside from rae. 

-

GEORGE’S POV 

it was difficult. i felt like i had no shame to just text her one day after being gone for so long. but i actually felt bad. i know it was a rocky start. 

i had been so focused on winning the bet and not wanting to be called a pussy from my friends that i disregarded you, your feelings.

i knew from the start that you had been a great girl. you were just so sweet to everyone you meet, even strangers. it warmed my heart, it made me feel safe to be around you all the time. 

not that i can say that right now anyways, i didn’t have the right at all, after what i did to you. 

i don’t know what love is, given the fact that multiple girls had left me before this. i asked myself often if what i felt for my exes were actually love, or had i just been desperate. 

but i felt like when i was with you, it had been love, or close enough. 

but i couldn’t just burst it out one day that i love you, we weren’t really even dating. 

given that you had been pure, prior to me, it was shocking to see you so open, so welcoming to me. it was like you had known me forever, that you trusted me. 

and i took advantage of that, and later i got the consequences. 

i suffered the consequences. i see him with you. and i see that you’re happier with him. if it was any other guy, i think it would hurt less. 

but it was my own best friend. it was clay. 

all the instagram photos you post, his face blurred or covered, or when he posts a photo of you, it all hurt. 

i started the fall for you, for your genuine heart, and when i finally decide to do something about it, someone else had done it before me. 

deep down, i knew that clay would’ve been the better choice for you anyway. but it still hurt me. hearing his voice coming from behind you when you stream without your facecam. 

everyone was so supportive of you and clay, they’re obviously happy that you found someone who treats you better, even i knew that.

i wished i hadn’t taken you for granted, i wish i hadn’t listened to the stupid voice in my head reminding that you were all just a bet, that i wouldn’t love you like you think i would. 

i felt left out. 

a while ago, you were in florida with nick and your boyfriend, clay. it stung to see nick and you streaming so happily, not remembering me. 

but i deserved it. and i knew you deserve to be happy, after everything i did to you.

but that didn’t compare to the pain i felt now, a year later, seeing photos of clay and you, his face turned from the camera, facing you. he was down on one knee, proposing. 

and although you were crying and your hands covered the bottom half of your face, i could see how happy you are, i could see the amount of love you held for clay. 

how i wish i had done things a little more differently. 

[ticktickblog]

Minimalism: How I Finally Found the True Beauty of Living with Less

A couple of months ago, I saw a TV series called Tidying Up with Marie Kondo, where a Japanese lady Konmari visited families to help them tidy their homes. The tiding process normally starts from clothes, books to sentimental items. A rule she’s given is only keeping what’s necessary and discarding those that don’t spark joy anymore. The basic concept embedded in the Konmari method is actually similar to minimalism.

Minimalism is about living with less. This not only means getting rid of extra material possessions, like what they did in that TV series, but also includes reducing mental burdens, and decluttering other aspects of life, e.g. digital life. It’s a less-is-more mindset that gets you to reflect on the current state of your life and identify what is truly valuable. With a minimalist lifestyle, people can sort their life well to enjoy more peace and freedom.

Getting rid of excessive material possessions

Among all aspects of minimal living, what we could easily start with is probably the personal belongings. I know this may still sound like a big project, but here’s what I did:

Observing

The first thing I did was to examine how much stuff I actually own, and I started with clothing. I pulled over all my clothes from several wardrobes and piled them together, which was really appalling, especially seeing hills and hills of clothes and some were years ago but still with the label on. I came to realize that I was kinda a semi shopaholic that I never thought I was.

Decluttering

Then it comes to the decluttering. I had to decide what to keep and what to toss. Considering some clothes are still quite new, I spare another choice for donation. It was quite a struggle to decide which item should go, but I asked myself two main questions:

Functionality: is it still functional/wearable?

Sentimental value: is it something meaningful/makes me happy?

It became easier with these two standards. For example,

Pieces bought out of pure impulse: donate.

Sweater my grandma knitted for me: stay.

T-shirts with holes: go.

Same type of dress: keep the best, ditch the rest.

Trousers I haven’t worn for the last year: go/donate.

Tip: One thing I learned from Konmari was the thank-you ritual. Thank the item for its sweet company before letting it go. This can help reduce your inner guilt when throwing things away.

Organizing

What was also suggested by Marie Kondo was organizing stuff by category instead of by location.This simply means storing the same type of items together, rather than letting them scatter in multiple places. For example, all towels go to one box, and all T-shirts should be collected in the same drawer, sorted by colors if you’d like. This helps when I need to quickly search for something, and also gives me a clear idea of the number of same items I own, which then can prevent me from buying more than I actually need.

Maintaining

To maintain the cleared-out momentum, regularly check if anything becomes excessive or nonfunctional. Also, always ask yourself the hard question — Do I really need it?/Do I already have it? — before you fall prey to consumerism that encourages you to buy excessively. Some minimalists stick strictly to the “one-in-one-out” principle, which means when they add something new, another stuff they already had should go. I haven’t tried this, it might be effective, but also be careful that it can lead to a simple replacement too.

Cleaning up digital clutters

Compared with visible substances in real life, what burdens us in the digital world is perhaps much harder to be noticed. A quick self-check can be: unlocking your phone and counting how many installed apps there are, or go to the photo album, and see the number of photos stored in it. In my case: 187 apps and 19220 photos. Amazing.

I decided to start the purge from those little cute apps. First I created different folders to sort them out by category. Interestingly, I realized I’ve downloaded 14 apps of a single type — photography and editing. Never knew I had a true passion for that. To downsize it, something particularly useful was: keeping the multi-functional apps because these are the ones I use most, just like TickTick, an all-in-one productivity app. Then the others are just a waste of storage. Also, let go of those barely used, for me the recipe apps, because I seldom cook, and also the recruitment apps, which were only used when I needed to look for a job. When finishing the decluttering process, the size of apps on my phone was shrunk largely to nearly ⅓ of the past.

The same process then went with my photo album, which was downsized to about 6k from 20k, after all the meaningless screenshots and repetitive selfies were deleted, and all trip photos were moved into cloud drive. This could further extend to messages or emails, if those are the severely-hit areas in your case. God bless.

I literally felt my phone was thinner after the whole process. Try it.

Reducing the amount of information I’m exposed to every day was what I did next. I’ve tried more radical way like cutting my phone completely out of daily life for 3 days in a row. It felt terrible honestly, and I used it for more hours as a payback once I got it back. A common misconception there of minimalism might be the elimination, but I think the difference is minimalism is not telling you to avoid something forever, it’s always about striking a balance between your desires and capacity.

Therefore, I’m enjoying my digital life, but I’m also trying to weighing it against my capacity of information that I can take in. Articles with exaggerated titles but cheesy contents needed to go first; numbers of newsletters subscribed should be restricted; time spent on TV series was limited; scrolling on social media posts was also reduced; notifications from apps were minimized… so on an so forth.

Reducing mental burdens

Lastly I’d like to talk a little about the effects of minimalism on mental world.

Also take myself as an example, I used to be addicted to expanding my social network, because I’ve long been educated: one more friend, one more road. Therefore, I took very good care of my social media accounts like they were just many MEs living on the internet. However, the larger my network size is, the more exhausted I feel. The more I care about how many likes I get for a new insta post, the more anxious I get.

Then I just realized putting so much effort into building social personas and expanding so-called friendships did nothing good, but added on my mental burdens. Why not spending more time for myself, and people I really love and care about? Understanding the truth of quality over quantity, I decided to:

Unfollow people I met on a party but never talked in life since then.

Delete those using me as a “problem-solving machine” but nothing else.

Delete those who barely contacted me unless they became sales.

Let go of those in close relationships but ghosted for whatever reasons.

Share what I’d really like to share instead of what my online friends like.

After doing that, I felt so much more relieved than before, because I finally understood that my time and energy is the very limited resources I have in life and thus not everyone around me is worth it. I truly get the meaning of living with less: spending less time on the unnecessary and what consumes you endlessly, but more on what you really need and what brings you joy.

Talking all above, you might feel inspired and would also like to try the minimalist lifestyle. But before you go, I’d like to kindly remind you of three gimmicks of minimalism I’ve spotted:

It’s not a disposal competition. Focusing only on the number of stuff you’ve tossed or people moved from your contact is not what really matters. And there isn’t a rule saying the less, the better.

It’s not a promotion of expensive brands with minimal designs. Some products brand themselves with minimalism, making it a new aesthetics standard with normally a not-so-affordable price. How ironic.

Make conscious decisions when ditching something, or else you may find yourself end up in a replacement cycle that causes extra expenditure.

In a nutshell, minimalism is a way of life and a way of thinking. It encourages us to focus more on what’s truly important in life and avoid other distractions; it becomes an antidote that saves us from drowning in numerous goods and boomed information; it helps reduce mental loads and spare some room for inner happiness.

So thank minimalism, go and enjoy life!