#fuck everyone who keeps suggesting shit to make this app more like other social media sites instead of the fucking

[stressedjuice]

Love when staff rolls out some new feature that sucks absolute ass the literal day AFTER they have their ask box open for feedback 🙄

[izukuisbaby]

thinking about sukuna who’s only soft for his s/o saying

“are you crying? holy shit, i didn’t know that cookies meant that much to you!”

⊹˚.⋆ HIS SOFT SPOT 4 YOU - RYOMEN SUKUNA

℘. flora's notes : @doulyeah-the-simp and me were talking about the "I hate everyone but you" trope the other day and this satisfied my needs 😫. also I think I finally found the format between fics and headcanons and I think I love it 💀, it's perfect for me omg I'm so excited to do more of those !

℘. female, male, gn reader friendly !

m.list | comment or reblog if you enjoyed !

⊹˚.⋆ he buys you a cookie

▪︎

℘. "oi, i brought you a cookie, 'thought you'd like it" he says throwing the bag at you

℘. and you deadass started crying cuz that's just so not sukuna but so affectionate

℘. like he thought of you and bought that HOW CUTE

℘. and now you were sobbing

℘. "...kuna... thank you" and you're like 🥺🥲

℘. and you rush to hug his chest

℘. "damn i didn't know cookies meant that much to you. wait are you crying ? " he says putting his hand behind your head

℘. "it's not the cookie 'kuna, it's you." you look at him with lovesick teary eyes and kiss his cheek

℘. you think you saw his eyes sparkle a little and his cheeks redden slightly

℘. but very slightly okay

⊹˚.⋆ you had a tiring day

▪︎

℘. he had you on the phone and you sounded so worn out

℘. he couldn't help but feel his heart clench a little, you were his sunshine and he can't stand it when you don't smile

℘. (he has a picture of you smiling in his part of the closet, it's hidden so you can't see it he's not a simp tsk 🙄)

℘. "uraume, y/n is like- not as usual and i need them to smile. wtf do I do to fix that ?"

℘. uraume knew better than to judge sukuna for being a simp, they are always there to listen to him and give the best advice

℘. they suggested he runs you a bath and started getting the rituals candles out of the attic. "i will just scrape the blood and it will be perfect for a candle-lit bath, my lord"

℘. in the meantime, he went to the garden and picked a bunch of your favorite flowers, uraume told him once that offering flowers to your partner was never a bad idea

℘. you came home to a weird sukuna, he looked all sheepish and he was slouching

℘. "uh- uraume made something for you in the master bathroom... love" he muttered the last word but it was loud enough for you to hear

℘. uraume was like"bitch who the fuck 😐, it was your idea I just spent 30 minutes scraping your demon signs of off the candles"

℘. sukuna walked out of the room way too fast for it to be normal

℘. uraume accompanied you to the master bathroom and whispered in your ear "y/n, i do not mean to overstep so please keep that to yourself. lord sukuna actually made that for you, he wanted to make you feel better after your hard day"

⊹˚.⋆ sitting on his lap

▪︎

℘. sukuna couldn't resist your little form at the bottom of his throne

℘. just the fact that he gets down just to help you up is a sign that's he's a simp for you

℘. he kneels in front of you so you can climb on his chest and put your legs around him

℘. and he puts an arm on your back, another behind your head, pushing it close to his heart

℘. and you can hear his heartbeat is faster than usual

℘. he sits on his throne, you still koalaing him until he turns you around to sit on one of his knee

℘. he wraps a protective arm around your waist he's scared you might fall and pushes your back against his chest

℘. kisses your forehead when no one is watching

℘. and his fingers mindlessly rub your skin softly

© izukuisbaby. comments appreciated ! although do not modify, translate, copy, claim as your own or repost on any app/platform/social media (this applies to all of my content)💓

[acatfishconfession]

Chapter 1: Who am I?

If someone - anyone, had bothered to ask me (other than my elementary school teachers) where I could see myself at age twenty-nine, pushing thirty. It sure as fuck wouldn’t be here.

“Where is ‘here’, exactly?”   Here, is sitting in a broke down computer chair. Listening to sad instrumentals on YouTube auto-play while I sip my Dunkin refresher, binge eat munchkin donut holes and cry over my laptop keyboard.

I wish I could say that was the worst of it. Truly,  I do. But the real depth of it - the most heinous and offensive thing of all that I am doing right now is why I am here and writing this with my D.D. and emotional bullshit.  

Most of my time is currently occupied flipping between five fake Instagram accounts, three fake Facebooks, two fake Twitter accounts, a fake Tinder, a fake Bumble, and my three personal accounts on social media where I’ve already lined up my next potential ‘mask’. Which is what I like to call the unwitting victims of image theft.

That’s right, world. 

I am an online catfish.

Hate me. Hate me as much as I do.

I keep hoping that maybe if I feel enough of it - it will somehow trick the overly sensitive, non-confrontational, and social anxiety-riddled side of me into once and for all stopping this madness. Or at least making me feel guilty enough to just want this be over - in whatever way this sort of insanity can end once and for all.

I’ve spent more time than I’d like to admit considering the two ways it most likely will. As well as the one that I don’t dare to even mention because it’s as foolish and more unlikely than any other.

The two main ways it will likely end are death or prison. The likelihood of death being by my own hand though, is slim. Not impossible, but most definitely unlikely. Purely for the fact that I am without doubt, the biggest pussy I know. Hell, most of my tattoos were just a means to try and impress friends. Which sucks even more now because I hate damn near all of the friends I wanted and equally the tattoos that I have. 

Still not sure if it’s because I hate the tattoo artist that did them or just their artwork in general. Either way, there it is. I’m a pussy. If you were concerned for a moment that I might kill myself and by partisan obligate you to contact someone for help - you can relax now. 

No. If I die it will most likely be homicide via crime of passion. I am fully aware that I may inevitably piss off the wrong person in my catfishing ventures, and end up at the bottom of a river somewhere. But that would probably be good old karma just doing what she’s best at. After all... When you play a dangerous game with emotions, those emotions can become the most volatile weapon anyone can wield. Especially when they are tested and toyed with enough.  As for prison... Well... I know there are many legal actions people can take in regard to how their photos are used and what is said about them. How they are portrayed by others online or otherwise falls under the realm of slander - if I’m not mistaken. Not entirely sure if we can call it genuine identity theft. I’m pretty sure the entire point of being a catfishing is to work in a lucrative enough way to which the content owners will be forever (or at least prolongingly) never the wiser to what you’re doing. So you change things like name, locations, ages, birthdays, etc. Avoid them and their circle of friends with prejudice. I don’t just mean ‘don’t send them friend requests’ or ‘don’t check their pages’. 

If you’re good at catfishing (if one even call the level of depravity you have to hit to do it well ‘good’), you pull out all the stops. Finding all of their accounts on every site and app and blocking them, their friends, their friend’s friends, and families. Whole geographic locations sometimes. Anyone from their area or who went to their school. You vanish from their potential radar.

And believe me when I say.... At catfishing... There are none better than me. At least, not that I’ve ever heard of. 

That’s not to be confused with boasting. I feel disgusted with myself in even stating it. Because that’s what it is - disgusting. This is the first time I’m admitting this in my entire life. So, I suggest you take a deep breath with me before you read what I’m about to confess. Ready?

In - one, two, three, four, five, six. 

Out - seven, eight, nine, ten.

I have catfished as (yes, I’ve counted)… One-hundred and twenty-seven people.

I know... I know... It’s impressive. Horribly and disturbingly so. And that does not account for the number of accounts I’ve had for each of them. Emails, Instagrams, Facebooks, etc. Even a few Vampirefreaks and Darkstarling accounts back in the day. I can’t even remember the names of most of them anymore. Only their faces. But even those fade over time.

You’d think for as prolific as I’ve been with getting to know them, their lives, and those around them so intimately to pull off the amount of catfishing I have - I’d remember more clearly. But I suppose if you do anything for as long as I’ve been catfishing, you’re bound to lose track of a few memories or blips of time. 

I know you’re all dying to know exactly how long I’ve being doing this for. So I’ll tell you. The answer may be as equally shocking as my ‘mask count’. Realistically, take a moment and try to guess how old I was when I started. Here’s a tip. As I sit and write this, I’m 29. Just a few months shy of my 30th birthday. Now go on.... Give it your best shot.

Got a guess?

Ladies, gentlemen, and thems. I have been catfishing since I was eight years old.

That’s right. Only eight years old. I’m sure you were thinking surely fourteen or even fifteen. Technically, you’re right. Somewhere around there is when I actually became aware of what it was exactly that I was doing. But things were much different then. When I was eight, the internet being a modern in-home comfort was relatively new. We had dial-up. Screechy AOL start up sounds that were most likely close rivals to what would be Cthulhu’s mating call. The days of poorly moderated chatrooms and weak HTML coding. Not even Myspace existed at that point (I really miss Tom. We took him for granted. Zuckerberg’s rules kind of make him seem like a bit of a cuck. But I digress.)

Before I was twelve years old, no one knew what the hell ‘catfishing’ was. We’d never experienced enough of it to have to worry that people online would lie about something as outlandish as their face. Their age, name, or location  - maybe. Shit, people have been lying about their relationship and marital statuses since the dawn of man. The internet didn’t breed lies like that, (though I’m certain it made it a great deal easier to do). Those were the kind of lies that you’d think of when it came to telling lies on the internet. But nothing like this. 

Now look at us. For every ten of your actual friends on Instagram, there is at least one catfish following you or trying to make friends with you. Not that it’s a factually proven ratio or anything, more so an idea. I’m clearly not a scientist or research analyst, and as we’ve already established - I’m way too busy maintaining fake accounts to actually look up factual catfishing statistics.

So why? Why did I do it? Why do I continue to do it? Why confess now? Most importantly, who the hell am I? The ‘whys’ are a bit more complex than just selecting reason A or B. But if you’re really curious to know and willing to hear what I have to say and find out what makes up a catfish. Or at least - me. The most prolific online catfish likely to date (here’s hoping I am because I’d hate to know there is anyone crazier than me out there). Then stick around, because I’m ready to tell you - all of you. Everyone who cares to read this story. I am going to do my best along the way to help you answer some questions you might have. What is it like, how does it make me feel, do I really feel guilty, are there other kinds of catfish, and which one am I? And of course - how to spot and potentially stop a catfish.

Maybe by the end of this blog series, and once you are past out-right hating me (if you can find it in you to get past out-right hating me.... *Insert nervous and shameful laughter here*). You’ll be at least thankful to have learned some new things and gained an understanding that you hadn’t expected to from this. Or at least be thoroughly entertained - because, who the hell doesn’t love a controversial story line? As for who I am.... 

I really wish I could give you an answer. Because truth be told - I don’t even know anymore. 

Maybe in writing this series, I’ll figure that out. Hell, you might even help me get there a bit. Aside the most obvious and recently discovered portion of that answer being, that I am first and foremost, a massive piece of shit - for stealing people’s photos and lying about who I am. 

[cosmicbash]

Hey, So I'm having a bad week and would really like an outed Kells and Em fic, it could be as angsty or fluffy as you want, I just need a happy ending. A little joy from a situation like that would be really nice right now, Thanks P.S. I've been reading your writing for a while and I think they're really great!! I hope you keep having Inspiration to do so!!!

Sorry I'm so late replying to this!! Ive had a shitty busy week myself and i feel horrible its taken me so long!!

I feel like instagram would be Em and Kelly's downfall. Just because the younger rapper is constantly on it, posting little snippets to interact with his fans, going Live, and of course posting pictures.

Slip ups are inevitable once he and Marshall start spending more and more time together.

Because Colson can't just cut back, when he does that fans start speculating. Questioning why exactly he's suddenly getting more secretive or searching through what he does share with a fine tooth comb to spot a new mystery girlfriend.

So Colson continues posting away on instagram and filming his lives, even when he and Marshall are together. Ignoring the headshakes and looks the older rapper shoots his way everytime he's on live laughing it up.

At first it's awkward, Marshall and him keep alternating who's going to duck into the bathroom or step out for coffee. But eventually they get used to it and comfortable enough that Colson can walk around their hotel room filming while Marshall naps on the couch.

The blonde even gets cheeky enough to start teasing his partner, like snapping photos of their shared brunches, or taking after sex selfies that always get Marshall hiding under the blankets or kicking him.

Really Colson should have seen it coming. You can only fly so close to the sun before you get burned afterall.

The mistakes start piling up soon enough.

Marshall accidentally yelling to ask him something when he's recording a live, Colson walking a bit too close to the couch and flashing the hoodie clad rappers back, the bottom of Marshall's AA necklace in the back of a breakfast shot, and more minor incidents that branch out from there.

At first Colson can just brush the unfamilar voice and thankfully covered up body as one of his assitants or friends. But as soon as that necklace peek gets out the internet does its thing and speculation over a possible collab strikes up.

The assumption being he gave everyone the glimpse on purpose.

Of course he's relieved the public isn't immediately jumping to the crazy possibility of them banging. Even though thats exactly what theyre doing. But him and Marshall AREN'T actually making any music together, and neither of them has publicly squashed their beef. Afterall, what better cover than pretending to still hate eachother?

But now that's all out the window. Colson's lack of an immediate excuse and rapid deletion of the photo just convincing the media their theories are correct.

Paul is of course furious, reaming both of them out over the phone about how they better get on a track together or figure out some new cover. And Diddy, well Diddy rarely comes off his self made throne to speak to Colson, let alone acknowledge most of his success, but the rapper actually does inquire to him about the whole spectacle. And Colson can't help but find himself wishing he had a guy like Paul who knew about them and could just simply yell at him because he still has no idea what to even say.

They settle on quiet ambiguous statements from their labels about how the two of them are working towards mending their beef and that a collaboration isn't exactly out of the question at this moment.

It works. For about a month or two, mostly due to them being apart yet again. The major hype dies down and Colson avoids any and all questions relating to Marshall in his lives and on twitter. The two of them are able to breathe a sigh of relief as temporary as it may be.

Until the next time they make time to see eachother. Colson's got a small charity event in Detroit that he plans on using as an excuse to linger around the city and steal some much needed time with his secret boyfriend.

Of course all eyes are on them yet again, questioning whether the young rapper might also be stopping in to work in some music with his rival.

With paparazzi tailing him more than ever it's impossible for him to just go to Marshall's place like he'd planned. Instead forcing him into renting a suite and wasting most of the day stressing over just how the hell he's supposed to sneak Marshall in with the bastards sitting outside the building like hawks. The other rapper isn't exactly helping either, just sending his usual cryptic texts telling Colson not worry about it but never expanding on what his plan is either.

By the time the blonde finally finishes his busy day and drags himself back to the room he has fully accepted that their rendezvous is not going to happen. Marshall had stopped texting him more than two hours ago and he wasn't about to act even more like a spoiled child by blowing the man's phone up. Colson's just given up. He can't even muster the energy to give the paparazzi outside his hotel more then an annoyed comment about how his life doesn't revolve around collaborations and the finger before slipping inside.

Marshall's presence in his hotel room, already stripped down to his night tee and briefs almost looks like a mirage. But when he shuts the door and crosses the room to bury his face in the other man's neck he smells like ivory soap and that woodsy beard oil the blonde bought him and Colson can't help but hug him closer.

He's so relieved to see him he doesn't even snark back at Marshall's muffled comment that he looks like shit.

The moment is sweet and Colson honestly should have realized it was just the calm before the storm but he's too caught up in complaining about the media and basking in his partner's soft agreements to care.

Before taking off to take his shower he hands Marshall over his phone, suggesting the brunette look through the mess his instragram comment section has become, all the questions and posts he's been tagged in over that little picture and their statements. Because why not? They would inevitably end up laying against eachother in bed scrolling through them all together anyway, at least this way Marshall can get a headstart.

And Marshall does actually swipe through them for a bit, spending more time admiring some of his partners pretty posts than he does reading the never ending stream of comments. The rapper rarely gets on the app himself except to post the occasional merch drop and promo. Social media isn't his forte, and it's not like he could follow Colson's account anyway. Navigating the app and searching for his boyfriends account was too much work when he could just asks for selfies over text.

Thats why when Marshall finishes his browsing and begins backing out of a post back to Colson's homepage he doesn't even care to pay much attention to what he's tapping. The flash of black and loading wheel that lights up the screen completely missed when he tosses it across the bed in lieu of playing around on his own phone.

The livestream he accidentally starts mainly films a blank ceiling through the rest of Colson's shower. The occasional creak and shift on the bed from Marshall's weight and blare of music from his own phones speakers all anyone tuning in can hear.

It doesn't take a brain surgeon for fans to realize the Live has been started unknowingly, but thats not going to stop any of them from filing in.

Maybe if Colson hadn't set his phone to silent the string of text messages might have alerted Marshall to his mistake. But the older rapper relaxes back on the bed less than a foot away blissfully unaware until Colson finally exits the bathroom.

Neither of them notice the phone when Marshall sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed, his body briefly flickering past the frame. They don't see the explosion of comments flying past the screen while they talk and Colson shoves the other man back onto the bed again. Bouncing the phone high enough to almost flip it if fate didn't decide to just scoot it closer to their tangling bodies.

Colson's whole upper body and face is in frame from then on. His cheeks flushed and smile cocky while he straddles his unseen partner. Marshall's fingertips peeking onto the screen where they're tickling the skin covering his ribs.

Its not until after Marshall's sat back up and begun peppering kisses down the front of his throat that he finally catches sight of his half blanket covered phone. An amused accusation about the other rapper trying to sneakily film them prompting Marshall to scoff and reach out for it.

"Probably just the app, shits always opening up to the camera on my phone-"

The rush of comments speeding past the screen and the unmistakeable red dot next to LIVE has Marshall freezing. His wide eyed face fully on screen for 10 seconds before Colson finally pries the phone from his hands to see whats got him so spooked.

Instead of panic, anger is what rushes through Colson's veins. A slew of curses leaving his mouth, before he finally manages to end the live. Phone promptly flying out of his hand against the wall afterwards.

The blonde wants to scream and thrash around. And thats what he does, fingers tearimg at his hair in frustration.

It takes Marshall's fingers softly prying them down for Colson to finally open his eyes again. The utterly terrified look on his partner's face chasing away his residual rage. "Fuck Colson I'm sorry-" its not the first time he's heard Marshall apologize, but it is the first time the man has ever done it while looking so scared of his response.

All the months he'd spent dreaming about his rival making such an expression have nothing on the real thing. And that smug powerful feeling he'd imagined was completely absent now. Just an uncomfortable knot seizing up his chest in it's place.

"I'm not--" his own voice feels tight. Tears threatening to bubble up in his eyes while the reality of the whole situation continues to wash over him. "I'm not mad at you, alright?"

He's mad at the media, at his fans, the rap industry, everything that makes him feel like this little slip up and intimate moment of theirs going viral will ruin their lives.

Colson's sick of hiding who he is and who he's with. Its utter bullshit. Its 2019 for chrissakes, who gives a shit who's banging who? They both make bad ass music either way and liking dick shouldn't change that.

Pushing up off of Marshall, Colson moves to climb off the bed. His hopefully not smashed phone across the room his current focus. But the older rapper snags his wrist and wont let him take more than one step.

And thats when Colson realizes just why Marshall looks so terrified. The man's worried that this is it, that he's going to just leave.

Run away from their problems and abandon the relationship they've been cultivating. Just go full scorched earth.

And that hurts.

So instead the blonde softens his expression and climbs back into bed, onto the other man's lap to hug him tightly. "Fuck Marsh--" He's not about to let the media ruin another relationship. "I love you."

The responding hug is so tight it hurts but Colson doesn't stop. "I fucking love you."

They're falling back onto the bed, legs tangling and Colson's teeth grinding while he rubs his face along the older rapper's shoulder. "I love you"

He doesn't even know what else to say. Now that the words are out it's all his tongue can shape.

"Colson-" Marshall's warm palms are cupping his face, pulling him back so they can stare at eachother

"I love you-" that one hurts the most, maybe because they're eye to eye and just looking at Marshall's soft expression and the possibility of losing it makes him want to crumble. "Please-"

He chokes back a wet sound in the back of his throat before they kiss. Pressing as close as he can, practically trying to glue their mouths together permanently.

Marshall's afraid to lose him just as much. They're idiots for ever thinking it might be a possibilility.

The media can get blown, and so can the industry and their so called fans. The cats out of the bag now and theirs no turning back. If they don't like them together than tough shit. They've both dragged themselves up out of the pits before, this will be no different.

Except, this time they have eachother to lean on.

"I love you to you cornball."

(((Ffffff this sat in my drafts cuz I got distracted by work and life. Im so fucking sorry anon!!!)))

((Also! Thank you anon! For the compliments! Im glad you enjoy my works!))

[maximumninjavoid]

Mining for Unobtanium

Chapter five

Oh how I detest when the imaginary people that live in my head will not cooperate.

This is part the fifth. No, I do not have ANY idea how many parts there might be. Nope. i couldn’t tell you when the smut will be, only that there will be smut. So, Usual warnings, 18 and over, please and thank you. Adult themes, adult concepts, BDSM and all that, so if you don’t like those sorts of things, run away.

If you find something you think I should have warned you about, PLEASE PLEASE let me know.

NOT my gif. @demivampirew​’s gif. ( I could stare at him all day. )

Days pass. I go to work, do my thing, help a friend through a rough spot, and find myself reading entertainment industry sites.  Can you roll your eyes at yourself? Is that internal, or is there a facial expression that accompanies that action?

I deduce he's in Hungary, try and fail to calculate the difference in time ( I have always sucked at time mathematics) and while I know there's an app for that, I have no idea what a production schedule looks like, or what a typical day might be, or if there even is such a thing. I send an email to the Solicitors General and suggest that email may be a temporary solution, given scheduling constraints, and make a call.

"Benji! I am so glad I caught you! You aren't currently dressing anyone fun? ...Not that you can tell me at the moment.....did you ever get contact information for who did those designs for Patti Lupone in Ryan Murphy's Hollywood? I know!!!! "We both squealed. "She looked AMAZING ! "We said practically in unison. "So do you have a few minutes? Can I pick your brain? What does a typical day look like for a principal, on location?"

I took notes. Good intelligence and reconnaissance is always important. Turns out there isn't any typical. It seldom what they need to shoot, what got screwed up, what requires different angles, or lighting, or even who needs to be worked around. Maybe the horse is having a bad day.

Maybe I could find out what his interests were, what he'd done, what worked, what didn't, what he wanted, see if he'd read anything, if he needed to unlearn any foolishness, and in the mean time, I'd do my best to keep my mind from wandering off on tangents about hoping he was switchy. That maybe he wanted to feel what it was like to not be in control, or there were sensations he was very interested in exploring.

Oh, I'd very  much like to restrain him, and tease him. If love to see what sorts of noises he might make.... Moans? Growls? Threats? Promises of retaliation? Sharp intakes of breath?  I wondered how fun it might be to edge....see how close I could get him to cumming, and then stop. With my hands, or my mouth, show him what a woman with very little gag reflex is capable of. Or slow down, or change gears, How many times could I do that, I mean before he exploded?

Part of me KNOWS that he is busy, working. But the asshole who lives in my head cannot resist the opportunity for a stroll around my neuroses. He's not going to contact you..... Because LOOK AT YOU.  It's good that you're funny. At least you have that. You had your few minutes. Be grateful for the call and the laughs that you got. It'll never be anything more. Don't kid yourself  loser.

And can we just talk about THAT for a minute? As someone who spends a bit of time in the public eye, granted a different public, but still.. and who had gotten misquoted and had it taken out of context and then there was a shit storm, you completely understood where that whole debacle had come from. His parents raised him and his brothers to be gentlemen. If he ever even did anything that would make his mother wince, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

And we’re not talking about “ alternative” sexual activities between consenting adults, right?  We’re talking about actual consent violations, Harvey Weinstein stuff, the things that make you need a Silkwood shower.  He likes wooing women, loves flirting, enjoys that whole interplay, but in the current climate he could see where there might be a potential mine field.

He’s famous. Why do you think he had to have you sign a non disclosure that was binding three generations forward? As in your great grandchildren, yet unborn, couldn’t talk about this? There are people who look for an easy out, sell their stories to tabloids. I mean that triad, where one of them was a fucking sex doll? And they ( they other two ) talked about her ( I am assuming her gender pronouns based upon her looks and I shouldn’t, but as the doll is mute, cannot verbalize any other preference) as though the doll were an actual third party in the relationship WHO WAS AN ACTIVE PARTICIPANT.

And when people started talking about it on social media, had all the nerve to be offended that misconceptions were being fostered. Darlings, YOU gave the interview to the tabloid.

So he said ““There’s something wonderful about a man chasing a woman,” he said. “There’s a traditional approach to that, which is nice. I think a woman should be wooed and chased, but maybe I’m old-fashioned for thinking that.”Cavill went on, saying, “It’s very difficult to do that if there are certain rules in place. Because then it’s like: ‘Well, I don’t want to go up and talk to her, because I’m going to be called a rapist or something.’ So you’re like, ‘Forget it, I’m going to call an ex-girlfriend instead, and then just go back to a relationship, which never really worked,’” he said. “But it’s way safer than casting myself into the fires of hell, because I’m someone in the public eye, and if I go and flirt with someone, then who knows what’s going to happen? Now? Now you really can’t pursue someone further than, ‘No.’ It’s like, ‘O.K., cool.’ But then there’s the, ‘Oh why’d you give up?’ And it’s like, ‘Well, because I didn’t want to go to jail?’”

And I can see that he’s a ) old school and loves women

In order to silence the asshole that lives in my head, I researched. There’s not a lot of anything about  this man to be found on the interwebs. Pictures, Photo shoots, Ad campaigns, that horrid GQ Australia interview.

I can also see that he has no idea what the “ new rules are” if one could actually put words in his mouth.

And he thinks that it would be easier to go back to someone he already had a ‘ relationship ‘ with because it’s a known commodity, even if it didn’t work.

And you can’t fault him for THAT, we’ve all done it.

Oh come on, show of hands, everyone that had sex with an ex because you really needed sex and the battery operated boyfriend was not cutting it.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {3}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Nah.

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think my marriage is done.”

    Zora and Kizzy looked to each other then back at you. They didn’t speak; it was like they were waiting for something else from you. “Hello, bitches! Did you hear me?”

    “Hold up, don’t go calling us out our name because you’re going through stuff,” Kizzy snapped. You rolled your eyes. She was right. You were high strung. It had been seven hours since your conversation with Chris. He hadn’t called you back, didn’t text, nothing. You were hurt and still pissed.

    “Is this because of the video?�� You nodded.

    “What did Chris have to say?” Rolling your eyes, they knew the answer to that. You didn’t have siblings; your cousins were your siblings, and your best friend was your family. They’d been with you through everything, childhood, road to fame, big break, they were even there when you’d met Chris in France. You told them everything. “That great huh,” Zora continued.

“It was like he refused to see my side, he refused to say he’d set boundaries, refused to care.” You tried not to get emotional again. You hated crying.

    “Was this a productive conversation Riah or were you the pissed off wife throwing accusations?” Your jaw dropped at her insinuation. You knew they were on your side, but sometimes you just didn’t know.

    “I didn’t insinuate anything. Yes, I as the pissed off wife because I am pissed off. If he ever expresses he is uncomfortable with something I make a note to change it. It was whatever to be this way when he was single, but he asked me to marry him, it wasn’t the other way around. If it was what he wanted, he should move away from that behavior,” you ranted.

    “We hear you and agree. We just want to make sure you understand part of a marriage is also proper communication. You can’t press his buttons and disrespect him verbally.” Raising your eyebrow, you looked between them wondering if they’d talked to him. There had been plenty times he sought them out for advice on how to handle you. Yes, you could be a handful, but you had standards and refused to lower them even being married.

    “Did you guys talk to him?”

    “No. We know you Riah, we know your fighting style,” Zora explained.

    “Nothing will ever get resolved unless both of you actually listen to each other.” You listened to them carefully; you knew what they said was true, but you listened to Chris; he was the one who always had selective hearing. Then when he spoke, it was always to reply to something. He didn’t listen. Sometimes you wondered if he knew you at all.

    “Anyway, I have some days free. What do you say we hit up MIA and unwind?” Again, Zora and Kizzy looked between each other. They expected this. Whenever you and Chris argued you both disappeared for a few days. He disappeared with communication, and you actually disappeared preferring to get out of dodge.

    “You can’t run away from your husband Riah,” Kizzy informed.

   “I’m not running from anything. I just want to enjoy my few days free on the beach in Miami. Are y’all coming or not?”

    You knew they’d come. Slowly they smiled, and you knew you had em. You finished dinner taking heed to stay away from any of your drama and listening to theirs instead. When you left, you were bombarded by paps shouting questions at you. “Uriah, any comment on the footage of Chris with his costar?” “Uriah, is there trouble in your storybook romance?” “Do you and Chris have an open marriage?” You and yours pushed through the paps to your valeted car.

Before you got in one more photog shouted a question; “Any message you want to send to Ana De Armas?” That one tripped you up. Your slick ass mouth almost went off and said “back the fuck up off my man and find your own you thirsty bitch” but thankfully you caught yourself. Keeping a smile plastered to your face, you climbed into the driver’s side and drove off. You refused to play the jealous, territorial wife that was not the part you auditioned for.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twelve hours later, you were in Miami being shown to your penthouse. When the three of you walked inside, you marveled at the interior decoration; it screamed South Beach. You smiled and walked out to the private pool and closed your eyes with your head tilted to the sky. It was beautiful weather, and you intended to take advantage of it. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. It made your heartbeat pick up thinking it was Chris. Glancing down at the screen you sighed out seeing it wasn’t him. It was his sister Carly. Sighing you put it back in your pocket. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to her you just didn’t want to think about him, or anything related to him. You’d already failed your self-given challenge with a simple thing like a ringing phone.

    He didn’t call last night or text. It’s not that you expected him to, you didn’t—well part of you didn’t. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t hoped he’d call and apologize and say everything you wanted him to but you learned long ago individuals were their own people, no matter how much you hoped and wished for them to do something or be a way they probably wouldn’t because you couldn’t control them. It was a hard lesson to learn and an even harder one to stomach in a marriage.

    Last night you’d gone over everything minuscule detail of the conversation with him, and you didn’t think you’d been irrational. You were actually surprised you hadn’t gone bat shit crazy on him. in the four years you’d been married you could remember worse arguments. Yes, you did say a few things with a disrespectful tone, and yes you may have pushed his buttons with some things just because, and yes the comment about kids was a low blow that could have gone unsaid, but besides that, it was a rational, calm discussion. “Fuck,” you mumbled realizing you’d let the kid comment slip and it would lead to an even bigger argument.

    “Ready to get some grub?” Kizzy’s voice snapped you out your thoughts, and you pasted the same smile you’d worn for the last twelve hours.

    “Yeah, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

    “You’re always hungry,” Zora responded. She wasn’t lying. You could always eat. It was one of the reasons Chris said he fell in love with you.

    A few minutes later you were in a car on your way to one of the best restaurants in the area. With one ear you listened to Kizzy and Zo talk about some guy they’d met on set. You put the rest of your attention on social media. You scrolled through Instagram first not looking for anything in particular just a past time from point A to point B. you came across a picture of Chris signing autographs, it was the first in a series. You sideswiped to the ones that followed and knew they were from his current engagement in Toronto. The last picture he was posed by himself, but he wasn’t smiling, his jaw looked tight, and his stance looked tense. It didn’t come across like his usual self. Part of you felt a tinge of guilt that maybe it was because of you, but as soon as it washed over you, it faded.

    The driver announcing your arrival brought you to close the app and slide out the car. You were grateful there were no paparazzi. When you sat down and skimmed the menu, you quickly found what you were going to eat and wasted no time ordering. “Shopping next or beach?”

    “Definitely shopping, we can hit the beach tomorrow and make it an all-day event,” Kizzy responded.

  When your food came, the three of you joked like always. You were relieved that even with everything going on, they hadn’t switched up. You’d lost friends on this road they called fame. Some you’d lost because of your rising star, some you’d lost because of drifting apart, and some you’ve even lost because they thought your husband was a challenge to see who he’d sleep with.

    When you made it back to the penthouse, the sun was setting, and you really didn’t want to be left with your thoughts. So, you suggested a night of fun--fun you desperately needed. The three of you showered and changed. When you were finished you assessed Kizzy’s work in the mirror, she really was the best make up artist around, and she was all yours.

  Pulling up to the club, you could hear the music from the outside and see the long line wrapping around the sidewalk. Everyone knew this was the hottest club in Miami. As the three of you approached the security at the front, you knew when they recognized you. The two burly men nodded to you as they opened the door for you. Once inside the music became even louder. You looped arms with Kizzy and Zo and walked through the red-tinted corridor. At the end, you were met by one of the girls who worked there, she was dressed in a short, tight white dress and held a bottle in one of her hands. The closer you got you made out her face, she was pretty.

    “Mrs. Evans,” she began. Raising your hand to stop her before she continued you corrected her.

    “Uriah is fine.” She smiled, then held out the bottle she carried. Taking it, you read it — Ace of Spades, the good stuff.

    “Tino, the owner, wanted you to know how glad he is that you’re in the house.” You didn’t know how he knew you were in the house, you literally just walked in. “Follow me; I’ll take you to VIP.” You nodded and followed behind her as she took a path that was close to all the other patrons but not close enough where they could grab you. Some recognized you as you passed and called your name. You smiled and waved while forcing the awkward feeling down. This was never something you’d gotten used to. You never got the draw of being fascinated with celebs. The fact Chris was a celebrity was one of the reasons you ignored the hell out of him and disappeared from the street festival you’d met at.

    When you got to VIP the three of you situated and popped open the bottle, the first round you guzzled, as you did the second. By the time you were on your third glass, you were standing up dancing to the music and beginning to have a good time. With every Nikki Minaj song, and Drake anthem and Reggae bop that came on you drank more and more and twerked your ass faster and faster. By the time Beyonce came on, you were sure you mouth every lyric of “Don’t Hurt Yourself,” a special request by Zo. All of your problems drifted, and the only thing you cared about was what your next drink was going to be, tequila, bourbon, vodka, or maybe something that really fucked someone up; rum.

    By the time you staggered out the club, the paps were there to snap your less than ladylike exit. You knew you’d had too much to drink and there they were to catch all of your disgracefulness. They shouted questions, none of which you clearly heard. As you, Kizzy and Zo shuffled into the waiting car you did make out one question “What do you think Chris will say about your party girl days coming back and you not wearing your wedding ring?” Groaning you dropped your head back on the headrest, you knew he’d hate it.

    The next day was torture. It was a day you remembered why you’d slowed down on your party days when you got married. You were hungover. What’s more, you got text messages from your team showing headlines of you across many internet blogs. Somehow they’d gotten pictures of you and your friends in VIP drinking, laughing and dancing. There were even pictures of your brief conversation with the owner; Tino. The pics looked suggestive, but the attention was purely one-sided—his side. Then to top it off they got picture of you exiting the club and close-ups of your hand sans wedding ring.

    There were so many comments and people who wanted to have their piece of the conversation. Much of it was from your fans and supporters agreeing with your actions. Comments ranged from women who were saying you should live your best life and teach Chris a lesson, to offering to put “the homewrecker”  in her place, and even those telling you to go off and do some straight-up messed up shit. There were even comments from men saying you were acting like an immature girl trying to one-up Chris. Some were saying you should respect your husband and work it out between each other and not over social media. There were even a few who went above and beyond to say you deserved this treatment because you went out without your wedding ring which shows the woman you are. It was all overwhelming.  

    Your team wanted you to do damage control and release a statement that explained you going wedding ring free and appease the masses by assuring your marriage was fine. You felt that was bullshit. Why should you have to explain shit? You actually did nothing wrong. So, you told your team to back off and let the chips fall where they may. While you lied down you began to wonder if he’d seen any of the headlines, or if he was pissed or if he cared at all. You hadn’t gone out with the intent to get back at him you just wanted to cut loose and forget some things. You knew to him it would look like one of your subliminal messages. He hated your sometimes passive aggressive messages. You tried to work on it, but sometimes you did revert.

    Your head was killing you, so you spent the majority of the daylight hours in bed nursing it. The only thing you could do was watch TV and wish you felt better. It was brutal, something you’d forgotten about. As you laid in the bed feeling absolutely sick to your stomach, you began to miss him. You missed him a lot. You usually would talk several times a day and text all throughout. He would tell you all about his day, and you’d do the same. Usually every night you were separated it ended with Facetime sex. It was one of the personal vows you’d made to each other on your wedding night when you had a second more private vow ceremony. It had been two nights now that hadn’t happened, two days you hadn’t talked or texted, and you hated it.

    You were so close to caving in and calling him, so close to just giving in to your feelings but every time your finger hovered over the green phone button you hesitated. You wanted to hear his voice more than almost anything, but you also knew you weren’t wrong for thinking what you did or feeling like your husband was being a dick about it. When you remembered all of that, you tossed the phone away and tried to get some sleep.

    When you awoke, it was night, and Kizzy busted in the room squealing. “Oh god Kiz, the volume.” She jumped on the bed sending everything on it flying into the air before it dropped back down. You had no idea why she was so chipper. She drank even more than you or did you drink the most. You couldn’t remember exactly. “Guess who got an invite to the white party tonight!” smiling and jutted her thumbs to herself with a self-satisfying grin across her face. “Zo and I went for a swim in the rooftop pool on the other side of the hotel and bumped into Christina White, oh my god she is so beautiful. Anyway she recognized me, can you believe that Riah? Then we got to talking, a few glasses of champagne and a couple dozen compliments later she invites me to the party tonight. The hottest party and we got an invite.”

    You didn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her you’d already been invited and had opted to stay in bed for the night. Instead, you smiled. “Of course, she invited you, and of course she recognized you. You’re the hottest makeup artist in the game Kiz. It’s long overdue they started to put some respect on your name, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re too big for me.” She smiled then rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll always give you the best rate.” You laughed together as Zo dropped herself on the bed as well.

    “So, we’re going right. How can we pass on The White Party, come on?” Zo’s voice was pleading. You’d been invited for the last eight years and for the last four years you passed. The last one, you and Chris, planned to go together but something came up with work for the both of you, so it never happened. You took up your phone and checked your messages. There were more messages from your team, some from you mom no doubt having seen and heard all the hoopla and wanting to check to see if her favorite son in law was being treated well. The only name evidently missing was Chris’. He still had yet to call or text. It hurt yes, but it also made you angry all over again.

    “Of course, White Party here we come.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  After staring at your rings on the dresser top for almost twenty minutes, you decided to leave them there. Your fingers looked bare; you almost didn’t recognize your hand. You’d gotten so used to the accessories that you felt strange not wearing them. Brushing the feelings to the side you set out for the exclusive White Party that was hosted by none other than the White siblings.

    Christina and Christiano White were affluent royalty. They weren’t actually royalty, but they were set for life like them. They were the twins of billionaire Randy White and his third wife ex-beauty queen Mariposa De La Verde Cruz-White. Randy was so rich he made old money seem like lunch money. Instead of keeping up with the Jones’ a lot of people tried to keep up with the Whites, you weren’t one of those people though.

  When you made it to the Versace mansion where the party was being held, your jaw dropped at the outlandish display of opulence. It was like Mardi Gras, Carnival, and Crop Over all mixed in one with bling bling everywhere. “How rich are these people again,” Zo whispered to you. “So rich, they could give every American a salary of twenty grand a year.” You’d read that in some tabloid magazine. The three of you walked down the white carpet and smiled for photographers. You made sure not to stop for any questions. You knew everything they were going to ask.

    After slipping inside the three of you got a much needed drink, you decided to go slow tonight. You didn’t want to fly with a hangover tomorrow. Scanning the room, you saw most of the big names in the entertainment and fashion industry. They all were dressed to the nines in their sexiest white outfits and no doubt trying to one up each other in some way. Sipping your drink in your own sexy outfit, you and your friends gossiped about everyone’s outfits, the thirsty women there trying desperately to snag some hot star for the night and even the décor. Zo and Kizzy pointed out some cute ones they wouldn’t mind getting close to. You gave the go ahead to go shoot their shots knowing they wouldn’t voluntarily leave you.

      You watched from across the room as they each flirted and no doubt dazzled the two guys, you knew them as Aaron Blake and Quentin Porter. They were cute but not your type. You made your way back to the bar for another drink. “The beautiful lady will have a glass of Armand de Brignac Champagne, make it rose̒.” You looked to your right and saw none other than Christiano White. You smiled, then shook your head. “Still your drink of choice, right?” He leaned on the bar and smiled at you. He was still very handsome.

    “Eh, everyone seems to think so. It’s the one thing I always get sent.” Laughing he sipped his own drink, it was probably Vodka, he sure loved him so Vodka, or he did four years ago. “How are you little Dove?” you took up the glass placed before you and drank half of it down before answering him.

    “All right. How are you?” Christiano nodded his head, then finished his glass. “Better now. Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

    “I got invited.”

    “You’ve always been invited. You stopped coming when you decided that I wasn’t good enough to be around anymore.” You could hear the disdain in his voice. Here we go, you thought. You finished the glass and raised your finger to the bartender to request another.

    “I never said you weren’t good enough. Those words never came out of my mouth.” Christiano nodded, but he didn’t look like he agreed.

  Christiano looked around again before he looked back to you. “Sure seemed like it. What exactly was it you said then, a month before you married some actor who looks like the carbon copy of me? what was the point of that?” You rolled your eyes, not wanting to get into this.

    “He doesn’t look like you Chris,” you clarified, using the nickname everyone called him. he scoffed hearing it. “Isn’t that his name too? Sounds like a carbon copy. Miss me, little dove?” You looked over him. He was in a white linen shirt and white board shorts. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down showing his toned chest and abs. Christiano wasn’t an ugly guy, in fact he was hot as hell, hot enough for you to have had an on and off two-year relationship.

    “I recognize that look in your eyes.” He stepped closer. Before the space was respectable of your marital situation, now it was personal, intimate. He lifted his hand and moved it toward your jaw. Before he made contact you slid back a little. “Come on Christiano, play nice.” You gave him your sweetest smile, a smile he couldn’t help but return. “Are you enjoying yourself little dove?” Looking back to your glass you nodded.

    “You always did know how to throw a party.” Before you could register it, Christiano leaned to your ear and whispered. “We could be throwing these together, as Mr. and Mrs. White.” He slowly pulled back, and your eyes met. Once upon a time you had thought about marrying him. You didn’t know Chris then, and things were good. Clearing your throat and breaking the eye contact you looked down to your exposed thigh.

  “I’m already a Mrs.” Christiano scoffed and nodded.

    “Are you sure, little dove? I’ve seen the tabloids. Trouble in paradise?” You clenched your jaw and fought off the urge to roll your eyes. “Low blow?”

    “You know anything you say could never hurt me, Chris.” He laughed and leaned closer. “That’s right; you’re bulletproof, no shots fired could ever touch you.” You’d told him that years ago and meant it. You were still the same woman, but you’d never tell him you weren’t entirely bulletproof anymore.

    “You don’t deserve that, Riah, you know that right.” You shrugged off any emotion and looked at him. “You’re still as sweet as ever.” You placed a chaste kiss to his cheek and turned back to the bar and finished the champagne.

    “Come on, say hello to everyone.” He took your hand and led you through the mansion and before you knew it, you were surrounded by your old crowd, some new and some you’d seen plenty of times over the years. Everyone greeted you with hugs, cheers and a lot of vodka. It was like old times. The music cranked, and your friends joined you.

    The rest of the night passed with drinks, laughs, and dances. You danced with Zo and Kizzy and with Christina and in a circle with other girls. You could feel Christiano’s eyes on you the entire night, and you knew it was wrong, but you didn’t mind it. You’d never take it anywhere in a million years, you’d said your vows, and you meant that shit with everything in you. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun and remind Chris that he isn’t the only hot piece of ass that people want to get on top or under. Close to two in the morning you felt bold enough to give Christiano a dance, you kept it clean, but his hands roamed as they always did. Every time they traveled anywhere but your waist, you were quick to wag your finger at him. He always laughed it off. Christiano always thought everyone was fair game. Maybe you being there was giving him those vibes. You were far from fair game.

    When the sun was coming up was when you made your way out the hidden entrance of the mansion. Christiano tried to convince you to stay with him in one of the rooms, but you heavily declined. There was no way you’d do that. When he finally got it he made sure one of his drivers were on hand to get you back to your hotel. Christiano opened the door, Kizzy, and Zo slid in the car talking amongst themselves about nothing, they were drunk as hell. You turned to Christiano and nearly lost your balance. His hand slid around you, pulled you close and held you up. Your eyes met his hazel ones, and you shared a moment—a literal moment. You found your balance and pulled away. “Thanks.” He smiled and nodded. “Don’t be a stranger little dove. My doors are always open for you.” You snorted.

    "Which doors exactly LA, Miami, Greece, Virgin Islands, Bahamas, Mexico, Brazil--.” Christiano cut you off with a roll of his eyes. “You missed quite a few, but all of them. Anytime.” You knew just what he meant. He wanted you to leave Chris and go back to him. “Uh-huh.” You slid in the car as Christiano shut the door. He waved to you while biting his bottom lip. Another lifetime maybe. In this one your heart belonged to one man. As the car drove off you began to wonder if he even deserved it anymore. You closed your eyes, sighed and decided that tomorrow you’d worry about your problems.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[solastia]

Dear Authornim | 2

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Word Count: 1,862

Summary: You’re a writer of BTS fanfiction. rockstarjin is your favorite reader that you’ve actually come to be friends with…and maybe had a bit of a crush on if you were honest. You’re up for quite the surprise.

Warnings: Not really much this chapter. Single instance of the word whore, but no one was calling someone that. It was just a comment. Semi-vague sort of sexting (you’ll see). 

Notes: I might make a separate chapter after this is done - like a bonus type thing - featuring some comments from rockstarjin, if you guys are interested. I wasn’t sure if everyone would want to see them or if they’d bore you, so I kinda glossed over that. Let me know if that’s something you’d want! Commissioned by @kimseokmomjins

Being a writer - even if it’s simply for fanfiction - you take comments and reviews very seriously. A good comment or review can lift your spirits and leave you smiling for a whole day. A negative comment often leaves you questioning everything and going over your chapters with a fine-tooth comb. The rare unicorns were the readers that took the time to leave long and detailed comments, stating exactly what they liked and disliked about the latest chapter. Many of these were filled with valuable suggestions and helped you decide the path that your stories would take. 

One such unicorn was named rockstarjin, a reader that had been following your work for nearly a year now. His first comment had practically been drabble-sized, and had covered everything from his enjoyment over how realistically you characterized Kim Seokjin to how he was certain he would never use the “W” word (he literally typed out “W” word instead of whore, something you still teased him over to this day). 

That first review of his was only one of many. He took the time to give detailed reviews on every single chapter you posted until you discovered that in your head you were practically writing for him. It had even gotten to the point where several of your stories were ideas that the two of you had chatted about on tumblr for months, working through every detail. He still seemed a little iffy on the smut, but he’d gotten you to consider the idea of writing Seokjin as “Less aggressive” in the bedroom. 

Your friendship had grown until you were now friends on practically every social media app - nevermind that his profiles were always suspiciously void of personal information. The more that you talked to “Rocky” (you started calling him that months ago since he didn’t seem excited about telling anyone his name, though he knew yours), the more you looked forward to interacting with him. 

You couldn’t even explain really why you were getting so attached to some blank face behind the screen. You didn’t even know all that much about the real him, just small observations from chats. Like, you knew that he seemed similar to Seokjin in a lot of ways, which is probably why he claimed him as a bias. 

Rocky was very fond of puns and dad jokes, often sending you one first thing in the morning on KKT instead of a hello or good morning like a normal person. This morning it was, “Why did the tomato turn red? Because it saw the salad dressing.” You were ashamed that they always made you laugh at least a little bit, but it made you happy that one of the first things he thought to do in the morning was send you something. 

He was also fond of talking to you about food and recipes, acting affronted whenever you mentioned not knowing what something was. He would literally bully you into going to the grocery store and buying the ingredients he’d list out, demanding pictures of the final product like he was Gordon Ramsey. You had to admit he had good taste in food, even if you didn’t think your cooking skills were quite on par with his. It sometimes made you wonder if he was a chef, but the one time you’d brought it up he’d claimed to be too damn tired to cook and was living vicariously through you. Of course, that led to you asking what he did that got him so tired and he gave you another vague answer, stating he was in entertainment. Whatever the hell that meant. 

It bothered you sometimes that even after all this time he was disinclined to tell you anything, but you couldn’t help it as your feelings slowly evolved from those of friendship to...well, something more. You were a little hesitant to use the L word, considering you only knew what he wanted you to know, but you definitely had a crush at least. Not surprising considering he seemed to be everything you were looking for. He was considerate and compassionate, funny, creative, and so many other things. However, the fact that he was so very loud and proud about his love for Seokjin made you avoid looking at your feelings too closely. Because while you were over here pining for him, the only person that praised Seokjin more than Rocky was Kim Seokjin himself. And that could mean any number of things. 

Even when he helped you with smut ideas he got you excited. He had slowly gotten you to lean away from always writing Seokjin as some powerful dom - something your other readers had begun to notice and comment on - and now most of your scenes had him as being the more submissive one. He seemed to like it best when the main character was more of a soft dom, willing to take charge and take care of Seokjin. Rocky claimed that a man like Seokjin who was always working hard and worrying about one thing or another would relish the idea of being taken care of. You had to admit it made sense. 

You sigh and glance at your phone again, noting the lack of notifications. Your morning pun was the last you’d heard from Rocky today, something that had been happening for a few days now. Considering BTS was on tour right now, you’d expected a lot more messages about how he thought Seokjin was especially handsome today. Instead, for almost a week it had been nothing but your morning jokes and once he sent you a picture of his fancy looking dinner complaining about the portion size. You were beginning to really miss him, but you figured he must be busy. 

You wanted to scream with him today, considering BTS was finally going to be in your city in a couple days. You’d bought the tickets months ago, and Rocky had even convinced you to get pit tickets, something you never do because it’s basically a gladiator stadium up there. You were currently waiting for one of the boys to show up on vlive since the last concert before they traveled to your city had just finished a bit ago. It had been a fantastic show and Seokjin had looked as beautiful as always. You hoped he would be the one to go live, but that was rare unless he was with another member. 

Suddenly, your phone beeps and shows a message on KKT. 

Rocky: Kill me

You smile widely, excited flutters starting in your belly. It was ridiculous how pleased you got just to hear from him. 

You: Is there an option B? 

Rocky: We could run away and start a new life on a deserted island. Our descendants will become known as the most beautiful people on the planet. 

You blush and force yourself to cough to cover up the giggle that threatened to escape. 

You: Is that so? 

Rocky: Naturally. They all take after me, of course. 

You: Of course. 

You: What brought this on? 

Rocky: I’m so damn tired. My body hurts and I just want to sleep for a week. 

You: Oh no! Do you have time to soak in the bath? Epsom salt works wonders.

Rocky: I’ll be able to soak later. Right now I’m just forcing myself to stay awake long enough to eat. I feel like a zombie. 

Rocky: Hey, why did the zombie cross the road?

You: Why? 

Rocky: TO EAT THE CHICKEN 🤣

You: 🤭 

You: Really though, take care of yourself. I don’t want you getting sick on me. 

Rocky: How would you take care of me?

You gasped, peering hard at the phone. This was new. Of course, you could be reading this the wrong way, and he’s simply asking to ask. 

You: Depends. Are you asking for tips or in the white boy “What would you do if I was there with you” way?

Rocky: Let’s try it this way. Say I’m Kim Seokjin. I’m tired and hurting after another long night of performing. You’re waiting for me in my hotel room. How would you take care of Jin?

You: Omigosh, are you voluntarily helping with a smut scene? 

Rocky: Sure 

You: Ok, let's see. This scene can’t get too crazy if he’s tired like that. I think mostly I would focus on his comfort. 

So, he’d show up and I’d already have a bath waiting and food on the way. Maybe some aromatherapy candles are lit and some quiet instrumentals in the background. I’d let him soak until the food got there, hang out in the bathroom with him and let him vent to me if he wanted. 

After his meal, I would put a towel on the bed and have him lay on top so I could rub him down with massage oil. Naked, of course ;) 

I’m sure he gets it from professionals, but I think he’d appreciate it right after a concert and bath. 

Then, it would just depend on what kind of story it was. I could either rub him down like that until he falls asleep, or it could go the smut way. There are lots of options for that too depending on the story. I could give him a handjob while I talk sweetly to him, I could ride him and tease him, maybe peg him if he’s into that. Anything that would keep him soft and pliant, because the goal is to get him comfortable and happy. To show him he can just let go with me, let me be in charge of his pleasure. Show him he’s loved and cherished.  

Rocky: Fuck

You: Too much? 🙊 

Rocky: No

The phone was silent for a whole two minutes. Surely he’d heard worse from you, so you didn’t think you’d freaked him out or something. When another message came in you breathed a sigh of relief. 

Rocky: So, I’m gonna be in your city for the concert

You: No shit?! I can suggest so many great places for you to eat!!!

You: Or if you wanted, we could meet up? No pressure and I totally won’t be offended if you don’t want to. Stranger danger and all that. 

Rocky: You know what

Rocky: Let’s meet

[softboywriting]

Soft Love | Shawn Mendes

Summary: You and Shawn are friends with sexual tension and you both model for the same company. [plus size/curvy reader] [fluff] [flirting] [non-au]

Word Count: 1.5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

“Oh my God, you're the lady from the DK ads!” A guy says as he approaches you outside the shoe store at the mall.

You smile warmly and nod. “I sure am.”

“You're so hot.”

“Thanks.”

Shawn comes out of the shoe store and walks up to you, eyeing the guy who's gushing over you very obviously. “I'm all good, I swapped out the shoes, we can go.”

“Can I have your autograph?” The guy asks and you frown. You didn't really have any way of signing anything.

“Do you have a pen? Or something?”

“Fuck...no.”

“Language,” Shawn mutters to the guy and you elbow him.

The guy pulls out his phone and asks for a picture instead. You don't mind and say no problem. Except it is a problem because as soon as you lean into frame with the guy, he kisses your cheek. That's enough to peeve Shawn off and he steps between the two of you, towering over the guy.

“Get out of here,” Shawn quite literally growls to the guy and he turns tail and walks away quickly.

“It's not that big of a deal Shawn. God, people are going to think we're dating if you keep being so defensive around me.”

Shawn rolls his eyes. “If you let one fan kiss you on the cheek without asking, others will follow suit. Believe me. I know.”

“Yeah yeah. Come on let's go. You got your shoes and I need to get ready before the campaign launch party tonight.”

_____________

You walk into the party at a private mansion and everyone turns to look at you. It's so crazy, you never thought you would be here like this. The face of DK Ladies Wear, one of the top clothing companies in the nation. You grin as you walk toward your management team, the three people who believed in you from the beginning. For a girl of your size and curves, being the face of DK was a huge feat. You and your team fought tooth and nail to get here, and damn it was paying off.

“Hey! You didn't text me!” Cara, your agent, says as she wraps an arm around you. “I would have let everyone know so we could have surprised you.”

“Yeah, well this is plenty attention. How's my dress?”

“Looks insane,” Shawn says as he walks up beside you and puts his arm around your back. “That red looks incredible.”

Cara raises her eyebrows before turning away.

“Thank you Shawn.” You flush and lean into him. He smells amazing, looks absolutely delicious. He's in a button down that is similarly red colored to your dress and black slacks with his boots. His hair is properly curly, messy and soft looking. Fucking hell he was going to drive you insane.

“Can I get you a drink?” Shawn asks close to your ear as a song comes on and starts playing loudly across the main room.

“I'll have whatever you're getting.”

“Sure you can handle it?” He asks and it's far more suggestive than you think he means it to be.

“I'm sure I can.”

Shawn slides his arm away and goes toward the bar to get your drinks with a grin. You make your way over to the area where a bunch of the photos from your ladies wear campaign are hung on massive banner like canvases beside Shawn's men's wear photos. You just smile, so satisfied with every single one of the pictures. Even the ones of you in the lingerie are outstanding. Never did you think you would be confident enough to do lingerie photos yet here you are.

“Beautiful aren't they?”

You look to your left and see a guy with a camera around his neck. He looks kinda smarmy, like a paparazzi. You're sure no paps were allowed in to this party but you know that doesn't stop them from getting in. “Yeah, they are.”

“She's pretty for a big girl.”

You step in front of the guy and cross your arms. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Oh, I didn't realize you were the model.” The guy chuckles coolly. “I mean you're pretty, look at you. Gorgeous, but if you lost a few pounds you'd be phenomenal.”

“I’m phenomenal now. Get fucked.”

“Such a mouth. Y'know language like that makes for an ugly lady.”

You hear your name and look to where Shawn is approaching you with your drink. The guy turns and walks off with a shit eating grin. “God, I hate people.”

“What happened?” Shawn asks warily, eyeing the guy.

You take a long sip of your drink, a whiskey ginger, of course that's what Shawn was drinking. Good god it's strong. “Typical fat shaming asshole.”

“Want me to say something?”

“No. You don't need to be picking fights. Let it go, it doesn't bother me. I've heard everything there is to hear. He won't be the first or last to call me names or comment on my body.”

Shawn scoffs, clearly not happy that you have to deal with people being rude to you. But it didn't matter. It really didn't. You were making bank and the haters were just angry.

“You look amazing in this one,” Shawn says, changing the subject as. He points to the one of you in a black lace nightie with matching boy shorts like panties.

“Me? Look at you? Those boxer briefs leave little to the imagination.” You point to the photo of him leaned against a counter in his underwear. “Did you even wear a cup in that one?”

“Nope.”

“It's my favorite.”

Shawn glances back at you and smirks. “This is my favorite,” he says and points at the picture of you in a pink bra and panties that is of you looking back, showing off your butt. “I bet it's better in person,” he mutters.

You elbow him in the side and he looks to you with a blush on his cheeks. “Shawn, you got something to say?”

He downs his drink quickly. “Do I?”

“Yeah. You've been so defensive and protective of me since this campaign launched last week. I saw you yelling at your friends in the comments on my Instagram. Now you're being flirtier than ever..” You set your drink down on a nearby table before standing in front of him and walking your fingers up his chest teasingly. “You seem a little jealous that everyone gets to see me in my underwear.”

“Oh, psh, come on. Everyone gets to see me in mine,” he rolls his eyes, looking away.

“Don't lie to me Mendes.”

Shawn sets his drink on a passing waiters tray and grabs your waist, hands going up and down your sides. “Fine. I want you. Is that what you wanna hear? You wanna hear how I dream about you? How you are all I can think about when I'm supposed to be writing with Teddy in the studio or doing press for this campaign or watching some movie at home?”

“Yeah?” You grin and he twirls one finger around a piece of your hair. “We're both single. What's stopping you?”

“Dunno if I'm good enough for you.”

You lean in and whisper against his ear,  “You're more than good enough, you're perfect. You're the only guy I want.” You press a kiss to his cheek and leave a faint red lip print.

“Guess I know who you're going home with tonight.”

____________

You wake up to your phone LED notification blinking in the dark on the nightstand beside you. You grab it and turn it on to see you have twenty missed messages and and abundance of notifications from just about every social media app you have clogging up the screen. You open up Twitter and immediately see photos of you and Shawn leaving the DK party together...and the comments people were making. Cats out of the bag it seems.  

Suddenly the phone is yanked from your hand in the dark and you let out a yelp in protest. Shawn tosses is somewhere off the bed, it doesn't make any noise so you assume it landed in the laundry.

“No phones.” He grumbles and puts his arm around you, snuggling against you. “I don't wanna know what anyone thinks.”

“But what if-”

“Nope.” Shawn slides his hand over your stomach and tugs at your side until you roll to face him. He presses his nose into your neck and sighs.

You run your hand over his hair and he tangles his legs with yours. You run your hand up and down his back, fingers gliding over the toned muscles and soft skin. “Can we stay in bed all day?”

“That's the plan,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “I definitely want more time to kiss every inch of you and give you the attention you deserve.”

“God, you're so soft.”

He shrugs. “Not as soft as you.”

“Hey.”

He leans back and presses his lips to yours, a little off center in the dim room but still sweet nonetheless. “I love soft.”

“O-oh.”

“Go back to sleep.” He rubs his hand over your hip and down over your butt. “You'll need plenty of rest for later.”

The end

Please reblog and leave comments or asks! Thank you! ❤️😊

[livsoulsecrets]

Incantava AU - Chapter 3: My soul is in the sky

Masterpost

Previous Chapter

Summary: Eleonora is in London for some days for her brother’s photograph exposition. In her last night in the city, she is convinced by her friends to go out by herself and have some fun. Unexpectedly, she meets other Italian there, a charming boy named Edoardo. Not knowing much else about him, she takes her friends’ advice and has a one night stand with him, not expecting to see the boy after that. Little did she know they were bound to meet each other again.

August 22nd

21:58

For some crazy reason, it was ridiculously easy for Eleonora to talk to Edoardo. She usually took a lot of time being comfortable with people until getting to the point she was okay with making a fool of herself.

Weirdly enough, Edoardo could manage to make her do that easily.

During their walk until the said square, they had started talking about the city and how different it felt. Edoardo had told her about his work with his dad and how it drove him crazy sometimes, making it very clear his father was a difficult person to deal with. Ele told him about Filo, his chaos and swetness, how he made her pick up a damn plane to come to his exposition even if she was just one week away from starting college.

They never ran out of things to talk about and that itself was more than enough to make Eleonora feel a bit dizzy. The way he was looking at her wasn’t helping, though.

— Okay, so you are either leading me to the place where you will murder my defenseless self or this square is in Narnia. — Eleonora joked, trying to keep herself together.

— What makes you think I’m the serial killer here? Maybe you are the physco who is playing the defenseless part to murder me. — Edo barely hid his smile and Ele felt pleased with herself for that.

— It is so nice of you to know women can be serial killers too, we totally appreciate the inclusion. — Their shoulders bumped while Ele sarcastically answered him.

— You are very welcome. — He replied, stopping to walk and pointing at the square in front of them. — Anyway, let’s drop our paranoias! We arrived. This place’s sky is not so polluted for some miracle, so we can actually look at the stars.

— And at those heavy clouds, huh? Do you think it is going to rain? — Ele looked up to the cloud, a bit worried about the weather.

— Honestly… When is it not raining here?

— You do have a point.

Edo kept walking and they finally sat down at the bench, side by side.

Ele felt peaceful while looking at the intensity of the sky above them.

— Okay, so the whole our souls being at the sky thing is done. — Ele spoke up after the two of them spent a couple of moments admiring the sky.

— You’re away too impatient, you know? — Edo joked, sending an electric pulse through Ele’s body when he jokingly shoved her, making the sides of their bodies touch completely. — To actually see something, you need to pay attention.

— You sound like a poorly written self help book.

— And you’re away too good at insulting me. — Edoardo laughed at the way Ele rolled her eyes at him, not being able to see the grin that formed in her face shortly after.

— Thank you, it has been years of practice.

— Guess you’ve been preparing for me.

— Guess you think the world revolves around you.

— I do get this a lot. — If Edo realizes Ele’s eyes keep being attracted to his lips, he doesn’t show so. His arms are spread in the bench and his hand is softly touching Ele’s shoulder. — Anyway, if you want to do something, we can just do our thing again.

— Our thing, huh? — Ele makes fun of him, despite the way her heart is racing with the suggestion.

— Yeah, the book thing. — Her grin gets wider and Edo rolls his eyes. — Just do it.

Eleonora doesn’t say a thing, but she reachs into her bag and takes the book out.

— Okay, this time I will just open in a random page and see what it says. — Ele offers and Edo bows closer to spy at the book, almost breathing down her neck, only the fragile light of the street lamps illuminating them.

— As you please. — He complies.

— “We will meet; and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously.” — Ele carefully reads every word out loud, feeling herself blush when Edo lets out a hoarse laugh.

She doesn’t know what she is supposed to do after that, but, luckly, Edo comes to her rescue.

— Well… We should be courageous then.

— What do you mean with that? — Ele’s voice gets weirdly high and she curses herself for that.

— I mean: we should play a game! — Edo suggests and Ele crooks an eyebrow at him, surprised.

— Don’t you dare trying to push “20 questions” down my throat!

— Too late, that is what we are doing. If you don’t answer the questions I make… Then I can post something on your social media.

— Same thing for me? — Edo nods. — Okay, then, I’m in. But, can we please go to somewhere safer than an empty square at night? — Ele demand and Edo nods, agreeing to her.

They walk for a bit in silence until finding a restaurant to hang out at.

— Okay, I’ll take it easy on you. Worst pain you ever felt? — Edo asks once they find a good table, away from everyone else.

— When I was 12, I had appendicitis. I thought I was going to die, it was horrible! Nothing ever came close to it ever since. — Ele lets out the part where she had to take a taxi to get to the hospital because she had nobody to go with her, but the thought wanders in her mind for a bit longer.

— It’s your turn now. — Edo says, seeming to notice she became distant for a bit.

— Alright… If you had to be trapped on a desert island, who would you take there with you?

— That’s easy. My best friend, Fede. He’s annoying as fuck, but that is good to fill all the silence, right? Who would you take?

— My brother… Probably for the same reason. Favorite cartoon growing up?

It is weird to think of Edo as a kid, but there’s a certain light in his eyes and a levity in his features that make him seem so young at certain moments despite his facade. Eleonora wonders what made him put that facade on in the first place.

— Okay, don’t laugh at me! — He asks and Ele gets pulled out of her thoughts.

— I won’t, come on, say it!

— It was Winx. — Ele almost gasps because of how unlike him it sounds. — My dad didn’t want me to watch it, he said it was a “girls’ show”, but I would do it anyway. Every time he entered the living room, I would just change it to Mickey Mouse or some shit.

— Are you kidding me? — Ele wonders again.

— What? Are you saying you agree with him? — Edo dramatically puts a hand on his chest, pretending to be disappointed.

— Of course not, that’s bullshit. But… Winx was my favorite show growing up too. — Ele says back and they both laugh at another coincidence bonding them.

— Flora was my favorite.

— Oh, darling, I was Flora! I would fight anyone that tried to be her when I was a kid while we played together.

— Oh, someone was taking it too seriously! — He looks delighted with the story, though.

— Look, she is the best one, okay? The guardian of the nature!

— The Fairy of Flowers! All of that! — Edoardo completes her without hesitating.

At that moment, Ele feels young. Maybe it is being out in the middle of the night in a beautiful city. Or perhaps it is the memories of the times where she was a easy going and happy kid that do it to her.

It could as well be Edo’s company.

— Hum… First kiss? — Edoardo asks this time and Ele freezes on the spot.

The memories that come back to her this time are not very pleasant. Ele thinks back to Francesco and her heart aches a bit. Everytime she thinks she’s over him, over what he did to her, life finds a way to bring all the pain right back to her.

— Guess I’ll take the challenge. — Ele says, quickly reaching for her phone to open her Twitter app.

— Oh, that bad?

— Just do it. — Ele faked a smile and handled him the phone. Edo typed fast, a mischievous smile never leaving his lips.

— And it’s done! — He seemed too excited for it to be a good thing, but Ele took a look at it anyway.

— Oh my god, you just ruined my life. For the next weeks, that’s all my brother will be talking about! Filo will never let it go. — Ele grunts, but Edo keeps laughing at how red her face got. — Asshole! — She curses over her breath when their eyes cross again. — Okay… I’ll end you now: worst lie you ever told your mom?

Edoardo bites his lip when he hears the question and Ele is sure he’s about to burst out some dumb joke, but he stays silent.

She is confused by his reaction, until he pulls his phone out just like she did before and handles it to her.

— Well, if I didn’t tell my mom about it, I certainly can’t tell a stranger. — Edo says, the stupidly gorgeous smile returning to his face, as if his previous silence meant nothing.

— Ow, you hurt me like this. You know my name, what my favorite show is and who I would take to a desert island with me. I went to high school with people I knew less about, do you know that? — Ele teases him just because she doesn’t like the worried bow that was in his face before.

Her idea works, because he immediately laughs in return, his head being thrown back during it.

— Alright, I will post something in your Instagram, but you gotta take the picture. — Ele says, telling Edo what he should do next. He gets oddly quiet while she posts the pic he took. — What? Was the picture not good?

— No. It was awesome. You’re awesome, I mean. — Edo said, swallowing nervously.

— Oh… Thanks. — She answers, an unexpected shyness taking over her when she posts the picture with a ironic caption on his Instagram.

— Here it is. — Their hands brush when she handles Edo his phone. If he takes notice of that, he doesn’t show.

— Alright. Your turn. — Edo says, his chair somehow getting closer to hers in the process.

— Fine… Do you have a secret?

— Oh… That’s deep. — Edo says, surprised.

— You act so mysteriously sometimes. Guess the question fits you. — Ele shakes her shoulder, her whole body aware of Edo’s arm resting in her chair.

— Alright, I suppose you’re right. You know… I do have a couple of secrets, but I can only think of one right now. — She was nervously aware of how close he was right now.

Surprisingly enough, Eleonora wouldn’t mind if he somehow managed to get closer.

That was the moment the waitress decided to come close to them, letting them know the bar was closing off.

Edo almost jumped away from her, given how unexpected the interruption was, but he managed to keep his voice normal while talking to the waitress. They paid the bill in an awkward silence.

Her stomach was turning and her hands were sweating. Ele was so nervous she didn’t realize it had started raining outside.

— Shit. Can’t believe it started raining already. — Edo said.

— It’s not too strong, if we hurry, I think we won’t catch the worst part of it. — Ele suggests, trying to focus on something other than the fact Edo was about to kiss her.

Or better: that she was about to let him.

— Yes, it’s better if we leave before it gets heavier.

— My hotel is over there. — She pointed to the upper street.

— So is my apartment. — With that, they both took some courage and left the bar behind, doing their best to avoid getting soaked with the rain.

At certain point, Ele wasn’t able to see a thing and her body collapsed in Edo’s arms. He catches her out of reflex, they both almost falling down.

They were standing in the middle of the pouring rain that had no signal of stopping.

Ele’s dress was getting tighter and tighter as she stood there, Edo’s hands still on her lap, hers on his shoulders.

— We should go. — Edo whispered, but he didn’t make any move.

— Yes, we should.

— Will we? — He asked cautiously.

— What was it the book was saying again? — She gives him another question instead of an answer, but he seems satisfied with it by the smile on his face.

— “We will meet; and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously.” — Edo quoted, his eyes not leaving hers.

— We met. Maybe it’s time for the rehearse. — Ele whispers, barely registering the confusion on Edo’s eyes.

She reaches out and pulls him into her, her hands moving to his neck as their lips crash against each other.

Ele only has a second of lucid thoughts to consider the insanity of what she’s going, but that moment is quickly gone, forgotten by the overlying sensation of being held so fiercely. The feeling of being lost and found all at once.

Maybe it’s insane. Maybe it’s stupid.

But when Edo takes her off her feet, Eleonora couldn’t care less about logic.

Previous Chapter

[softforcal]

Duuuude that cal x reader pregnancy HC was so fucking cute I can’t. Do u think I could do one with Luke plz???

LUKE X PREGNANT READER (bonus proposal)

(poly) (Cal) (Ash) (Michael)

-ya’ll really out here making a bitch like me want babies huh?

-okay. so Luke adores you

-you’ve been together for a while and he’s never been more in love

-it’s written all over his face

-the two of you go out all the time and there’s always children out and about and Luke notices you’re always smiling at the children

-or sometimes your grip on his hand tightens and you squeal a little, “did you see that baby?!”

-and Luke’s always loved how cute you are with Petunia but he starts to notice even more

-especially when people start referring to you as Petunia’s mom on social media

-its like everywhere he looks he starts to notice you’re amazing with kids and animals

-he’s out with the boys getting coffee and some kids are running around on the plaza and Luke’s watching them, Calum notices and nudges him and is like “what’s that about?” and Luke’s just like “what do you guys think about kids?”

-Ashton, of course, is down as fuck for kids but this boys still gotta find a girlfriend first. Cal and Michael are meh about it, not really something they’re thinking about, “why, are you and Y/N thinking about it?”

-”no. well. yes. well. maybe. fuck i don’t know. i just keep seeing her with kids and animals and… it’s something i’m considering but i haven’t really talked to her about it.” Luke sighs.

-they talk about the pros and cons but it doesn’t really help at all

-Luke gets home and immediately finds you sleeping with Petunia in bed and he gets so soft for you

-he jumps onto the bed and wakes you up with a kiss, “hey beautiful.”

-Petunia jumps off the bed because this dog knows whats coming ;)

-it’s all loving and sweet, missionary so he can kiss you because he adores you, and then he’s just like “fuck, wanna pump a baby into you.” (classic Breeding kink Luke line fam.)

-you laugh a little, pulling him into a kiss before looking into his eyes, “okay.”

-”just like that?” he asks.

-you shrug. you’d definitely been thinking about it too, “Luke. i want kids with you.”

-boy tears that condom off before you can say anything else

-it had already been loving but this is next level because you’re both pushing for something

-lots of low moans and kisses, him burying his face in your neck while you pet his hair

-its actually just amazing. you’ve never had a connection like you have with Luke and it’s mind blowing

-post sex cuddling where you actually talk about having kids

-agreeing that if you get pregnant, Luke’s gotta take some cooking classes so he doesn’t accidentally kill your child or have it die of starvation if you go for a week vacation without him or something

-and now that you’re talking about it and you have a goal: getting pregnant, ya’ll just wanna reach that goal

-a lot of sex

-the boys come over for dinner plans and they notice there’s something weird going on because you and Luke look even more in love

-and then the two of you disappear after dinner in your own house and the boys are like “what the fuck.”

-Luke comes back looking really happy and they’re just like “you’re trying to get Y/N pregnant aren’t you?”

-Luke fesses up right away

-”so who’s going to be the godfather?” “yeah, you going Bonzi or Fonzi on this one?” “obviously it’s going to be me, i’m the best with kids.”

-so you have a pregnancy app thing to tell you when the best time to have sex is but ya’ll just have sex all the time just in case

-you both count down the days until you’re supposed to get your period, waiting three days after it was supposed to start and didn’t before you both go to get a pregnancy test

-by this point all the boys know exactly when your doing the pregnancy test because all they’ve been hearing about for almost a month is ‘optimal fertility day, can’t come out boys’ or ‘shes at about a medium fertility possibility so i think i’m going to cancel on you guys tonight sorry.’

-they’re all waiting for the call to say if you’re pregnant

-Michael suggested they face time while you pee and everything but Luke thought that was too far

-you pee on the stick and then you and Luke wait. he is literally holding Petunia and rocking her back and forth while you wait

-you both think it’s been long enough and he sets Petunia down as you go into the bathroom to look at the stick

-you bet your ass this boy is going to lift you up and kiss you when it says positive but then he’ll set you down and get on his knees, pushing his face against your stomach

-so many ‘i love you’s

-the boys getting the group text that says your pregnant

-they all immediately go out to buy baby stuff and totally all bump into each other at the store (insert spider man pointing at spider man meme here)

-fighting over who’s allowed to buy what

-they all show up at your place with stuff to celebrate

-Ashton pulling you aside and mentioning that Luke can’t build furniture for shit so if you need help you can call him

-telling your families and everyone is so excited

-Luke is so protective over you, like he constantly needs to be touching you

-the two of you planning a baby room

-doing the whole painting thing where he flicks paint at you and you end up having a mini paint war which ends with the two of you sleeping together and paint getting everywhere

-its so cute

-going and looking at baby stuff and someone totally gets a picture of it and suddenly the entire fandom is having a meltdown

-Ashton was right about Luke not being able to build a crib for shit but it just leads to a lot of laughing and kissing and cursing

-your bump starts to show and Luke looses it. like. he can’t stop smiling.

-he takes way too many pictures of it

-posting a picture of him standing behind you with a hand on your bump on Instagram and everyone in the fandom dies

-he posts it while you’re out and your mentions blow up. when you get home Luke has made dinner and you are so shook because this boi has been secretly taking cooking classes (from Cal but still) so he can make you food

-i mean, it’s not amazing, it’s something simple like spaghetti and meatballs but still it’s the thought that counts

-and he gives you a glass of sparking juice because you can’t do alcohol and as you’re sipping it you realize there’s something in the bottom of the glass.

-”Luke-” “just drink your juice babe.” he grins.

-you roll your eyes and down the glass, careful not to get whatever is in the bottom in your mouth.

-then you look inside and it’s a ring

-this fucker put an engagement in your juice

-his hand covers yours, “do you wanna marry me?” like. this fucker.

-”yes!”

-and he didn’t really plan it that well because you both have to stand up from your seats to kiss and he’s an awkward, accident prone giant who almost knocks over the table and the ring is wet but somehow it’s perfect

-(oof, Luke sucking your finger with the ring on it to get the juice off)

-a baby on the way and a wedding

-and Luke is so fucking in love of course he’s not going to hide the fact that you said yes so he posts an insta picture of the ring

-yeah the fandom has died. they’re a gonner

-talking about your future. deciding you want to get married after the baby is born, sometime in the summer

-having the cutest domestic life together

-lots of cock warming while deciding baby things because boy can’t say no while he’s buried inside of you

-he loves having his arm over your shoulders and he is so protective when you’re out and about

-the other boys act almost like security guards around you when you’re all out

-Luke spoils the shit out of you

-he turns into a grandpa driver when he drives you two around and people honk at him for driving below the speed limit

-and Petunia is protective too, like she doesn’t leave your side

-and he becomes addicted to buying things for the baby

-like… he always arrives home with another baby onesie or lil shoes

-”if this keeps up, lil Hemmo’s going to have more clothes than I do.” you tease

-deciding not to know the gender

-(tbh i wanna say he gets twins and that’s a whole different thing but i can write that somewhere else another time)

-as you get bigger and bigger and its closer to your due date Luke is freaking out he’s so worried about you

-the boys have a group chat just about you and the baby so as soon as something happens they’ll all know

-everyone is getting so excited about it

-the day it happens you’re in the kitchen eating something you were craving and your water breaks

-”Luke!” you say

-he comes running right away and his eyes widen when he sees the liquid on the floor

-he freaks out and helps you to the car

-he still drives the speed limit and you’re sitting there groaning because of contractions and he’s just like holy fucking shit

-getting to the hospital and the boys are already there because none of them drove the speed limit

-Luke is there the whole time, holding your hand and kissing your forehead

-you bet your ass this boi cries when the nurses clean off the baby and give it to him the first time

-im too soft fam. too soft.

[diningpageantry]

Don’t @ Me

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43092371

Chapter 1/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 3118

Fic Summary: Teenage life is hard enough, but with the added weight of their lives, both Simon and Baz thrive online in a fandom for the British crime show, Gastrell, about the genius Huxley and his "flatmate" Sam. Through Tumblr, they find each other, and sink into something more than just being mutuals.

Chapter Summary: A shitpost is taken a little too personally, and an argument breaks out. In true Baz fashion, he seeks to prove himself right in the most ridiculous way possible.

BAZ

Morning routines are the most menial shit in the realm of existence of arbitrary tasks.

Everyone seems to have them, yet nobody really has a set one. For example, my step-mum has a long, seemingly pointless hour of simply facial cleansers, serums, and hair products. When I’d asked her years ago why she does it all, she shook her head and said “You’ll never be an aging woman, Basilton.”

I couldn’t quite argue with that.

Regardless, it’s a part of life. The routines. Wake up, morning routine, morning activity, eat, afternoon activity, usually afternoon snack, evening activity, dinner, night-time activity, sleep.

A boring, underwhelming cycle of the day.

Although, I suppose it’s shittier for me, since the homeschooling doesn’t give me a chance to do much besides sit and read. Of course, I have my car and I can drive off to whatever. Hell, father even suggested I get a job to occupy myself, but I don’t quite see the point given how much money we have (and the risk factors with moving around so frequently).

So, here I am. Finishing my classes in a matter of months, then having an entire year of pointless bullshit.

Needless to say, my entire day’s routine isn’t the most thrilling. Wake up at 10 on a good day, check social media and emails, then just lay here until I can’t wait to piss. Piss. Go to eat breakfast and get greeted by screaming children and my poor step-mum trying to wrangle them in. Go upstairs, go back online, see whatever’s on my dash, reblog some shit, then try to do something vaguely productive. Check Archive, check email again. Nothing’s on the emails, ever. Text Dev and Niall, who get awfully pissed since they are in school. Get more food. Eat. Bring tea upstairs, despite the disdained look from our maid (who hates collecting my piles of mugs). Write for a couple hours. Take an afternoon nap, if I please. Wake up and sit there (again). Maybe lonely wank. Go back to the bathroom, stare at myself in the mirror for a good few minutes. Sit on the toilet for half an hour for no reason besides the fact that my phone seems more interesting while sitting there as compared to sitting in bed. Sit then on the bathroom floor doing the same thing. Go back to my bed, listen to music on my phone and work on my laptop. Write, maybe scroll. Get dinner brought to me as they tut that I should be more active. Eat. Go downstairs for an evening workout (they’re right, I shouldn’t confine myself to my bed). Come back, do exactly what I do for half the day until I pass out somewhere around 3 am. Repeat.

Dream life for an 17 year old. Social life of a god.

Somewhat.

It’s shit to say (and sort of embarrassing to share) that there’s sort of a social media presence around me. Not quite the Instagram model bullshit, but based around fan life.

Yes, it’s a laughing stock. That’s where my popularity lies--a mixed grab-bag of various ages gathering around various platforms to enthuse about certain topics. And I’m somehow lucky enough to have the slightest bit of popularity here.

As in, a large following. A large, somehow active following.

It isn’t exactly thrilling as one would like to think. Sure, it’s fun to see a scattered group of regulars pop up, and I have my mutuals, but it’s a sad existence to sit around and make various shitposts with nothing better to occupy my mind. Or, at least, that’s what Dev and Niall tell me.

All in all, I blame Fiona. She’s the one who got me into the show, saying she thought the character was a bit like me. After I saw it, I found the three connections she’d grasped at.

Gay, dark-haired, and violinist.

As if that’s a rarity.

Yet, surely enough, I did love it. The cinematography, the characters, the storyline. It was intriguing--captivating.

It doesn’t hurt that the online community was still on the smaller side when I first got there. The show was only a season in when I made my blog, and I’ve stuck through all this bullshit to get me here. One of the regulars. Reposted everywhere, uncredited usually. Big fics, large interactions. Shitposts with thousands upon thousands of notes. I’m recognizable; a suggested name.

Don’t get me wrong, the attention is spectacular. I love interacting with people beyond this depressing household, and they’re usually fairly nice (usually) (except those ravenous for an argument). It’s just awkward to share at times when people ask why your mobile’s got 99+ symbols next to the apps and you just shrug and say “I’m shit at checking it” to avoid the conversation because most people see it as childish.

It’s a shame, really. Especially since I feel emotionally attached to these goddamn fictional fuckers.

I suppose that’s what makes it all the more personal, then. Even the shitposts mean something to me.

Which is what makes this is a long, winded way of saying fuck whoever’s arguing with me about whether or not Huxley is a fucking Ravenclaw. (He is. Hands down.) How’d I get here, staring at my mobile in disbelief at a brief back and forth post turned fight? Because it feels like a reasonable question to wonder.

I got here because, as almost all mornings, I woke up, opened my phone, read my notifs, then sat here, thinking of something. Anything. Then, in a tired haze, typed out a single text post on tumblr.

huxley gastrell is a ravenclaw send tweet

Following so, I went about my typical morning. Of course. Then--then--I check my phone as I’m going downstairs and I see it. I see the “@bi-sammy mentioned you in a post!” notif, then read the God-forsaken reblog.

@gaystrell op do you take criticism on your posts?

I frowned at my phone, typing out a quick response before tucking it back into my pocket.

@bi-sammy no.

What I hadn’t anticipated, though, was the reply I’d open up to soon after I’d started poking at my morning meal.

@gaystrell well too bad bc ur WRONG and ur opinions are UGLY

#he’s clearly a slytherin this is slytherin oppression #don’t tell me he and bryonie aren’t from a slytherin family

Now I sit, staring and completely awestruck at such a post. Now, I won’t deny Bryonie Gastrell is definitely, in all possible ways, a Slytherin. Cunning and ambitious as fuck, as any political spy may be, but fuck anyone who tries to dismiss Huxley’s clear Ravenclaw leanings.

It takes me a moment to fully process, mouth robotically chewing my eggs as I contemplate my answer.

@bi-sammy there is absolutely no proof of huxley being a slytherin and more than enough support towards him being a ravenclaw. get your clueless negativity off my blog, you utter tit.

With that, I settle my phone face down onto my table and try to enjoy my lovely plate of scrambled eggs, barely ignoring the boiling of my blood.

SIMON

My phone lights up with the new notification, dragging my attention away from my laptop as the words slide down onto the screen. “@gaystrell mentioned you in a post!” I hate to admit that I get a little pattering in my heart, urging my hand out to grasp the mobile as I pause the Youtube video currently playing. As I read his words, I slowly blink out of my excitement.

Tit. He called me a bloody tit.

Of course this fucking wanker called me a tit.

He must think that since he’s this big bad blogger, he can call me a tit right out in the open. (Although, he is talking to me, so that’s a plus) (No! No no no, bad validation, Simon. Bad). What, with his thousands of followers and fans of his own, he thinks he can try to say shit out in the open?

Fuck it. He’s either getting a DM or a bloody fist fight from me. I’ll take a train to wherever the fuck he lives (which is somewhere in England, since that’s what his bio says) (and his aunt lives in London, since he’s posted about visiting her) (I really do wonder where he’s from and how close he might be--what if I run into him one day?) (No wait fuck I don’t want that anymore).

Clicking on his blog, the little person drop down gives me the option of a message. I barely think as I type it out, vision going spotty from the adrenaline of the twinging anger.

bi-sammy: i swear to god there was no point to the battle of hogwarts if you’re just going to go around and absolutely slander the slytherin name and dare say that huxley is not one of them and, rather, is a ravenclaw

At first, I grin at it, watching my lone message appear into the empty chat. It’s so freeing--so powerful to send it. I pride myself, in the moment, for this solid move of communication. Of course I’m fucking proud. I messaged the arse myself and gave him a space to fight.

Maybe Penny’s right, I should dial down the confrontation, but it’s just the internet. Nothing important happens through a stupid little argument over Huxley’s true Hogwarts house (although, I’m sure I know I’m right in my heart), but it is a bit of fun to fuck around with someone. It’s a distraction. And that’s why I’m here, afterall. To have a distraction.

Penny thinks it’s a bit silly, but she doesn’t really complain. All she’s ever said was  “I thought we left fandom stuff behind us when we were 14.” She said it over lunch, watching me scroll through my at-the-time new tumblr.

It’s funny, I thought I did leave it behind when I was younger. It seemed unneeded as life shifted. I’d just found a stable foster home, with someone who was going to keep me for a while. I found Penny a couple months before I deactivated my old account. I was happy; we were free. I didn’t need a venting place.

Shits been sort of hitting the fan recently, though. No uni plans, David’s been getting more controlling, and of course, Agatha dumping me. It all crashed on top of me a few months ago, and somehow, the only place that I could find healthy coping was online. So, I started fresh. Made a blog and settled in. It’s not big, but I’ve had a few posts get noticed. I have a good few hundred followers, and one nice anon who asks me how I am every few weeks. It’s not a lot, but it’s comforting.

I feel at home here, even with a little discourse.

Well, only when the discourse is answered. Which, in this situation, I don’t know if it will be, given it’s been over an hour now and Baz hasn’t answered.

If that’s even his name.

It’s what his bio says, at least.

baz. 17. cisguy (he/him). gay. don’t interact if you think huxley is remotely straight.

I’ve wondered for a while what Baz stands for. He refuses to answer it in asks; he always says it’s too personal. He’s sort of odd like that--never posts pictures of anything that could be linked back. Seems sort of creepy, but then again, a lot of people follow him. It’s reasonable to want space.

Maybe that’s why he’s not answering. He probably wants space of some sort, but it’d be at least decent to answer someone who tried to have a discussion (that’s at least what I’m calling that message I sent--a discussion starter).

I frown at my phone, keeping it on silent as I slide it into my front pocket and settle into my seat in maths. I’ll say it--I sulk in class, a little bitter that I don’t have his attention (despite the fact that he seems like he’s always active online, which seems odd). Eventually, I exhale and try to let it slip away. There went my one interaction with him. My few seconds of the weirdest fucking bliss online, gone.

Then, it happens. As the class is ending, I pull out my screen just enough to see and there it is. A clear notification telling me he’d answered. Oddly enough, it’s just him sending me a link to a Google Doc.

Weird.

I ignore it for the moment being, letting myself ride the wave of relaxation that I actually got a reply. It passes my mind until I’m sitting in the back of Agatha’s car, listening to Penny and Aggie in the front talking about whatever’s on their mind. The rides are sort of awkward as of recently. At least Agatha agreed to drive me home (it’s a good 45 minute walk, if not) after some convincing from Penny, but her and I don’t really chat. It’s just the two of them.

Given that time, I have a chance to pull out my mobile and thumb through what was sent.

gaystrell: https://docs.google.com/document/d/175qFASmqD7hey8lE0eoE-6VhhFYE9DP6bpnI32Aay98/edit?usp=sharing

I click on it, not expecting that much (or, really, not expecting anything at all). Yet, the second it pops up and loads, my jaw drops.

“Jesus fuck,” I say aloud, scrolling through it. Penny turns her head, frowning as I stay locked on my screen.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“No--no nothing,” I say, waving a hand. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s got to be something for that reaction,” she says, keeping turned in her seat as she eyes me up. “Just tell us, Si.”

“I mean it when I say it’s nothing.” My voice gets quieter as I shift, reading the title. “It’s just fandom stuff. It’s really nothing.”

I hear her disgruntled huff as she turns back, mumbling something about me reacting too dramatically to this. “It isn’t even real.” It’s said under her breath, yet it still rings clear in my ears.

It isn’t really fake, either.

Hell, this is six pages of real. “Why Huxley Gastrell is, Without a Doubt, a Ravenclaw”. Shared by Basilton Pitch (is that his actual name?!). Fucking hell, it’s detailed to no ends. You’d think, with this much writing, there’d be pages of pointless filler where he’d just type “im gay hi huxley is also a gay we’re all gay here aren’t we”, but no. It’s full, grammatically correct sentences detailing his points.

It’s a bit much to read in the car, so I settle my mobile face down onto the seat as I’m left reeling. That… was a bit more than I’d expected.

Shit, did he write that for me?

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

BAZ

Whoever says that having a flair for the dramatics is pointless has clearly never met me, because I wouldn’t quite call this masterpiece of an essay “pointless”. In fact, I should send it to academics. Rename it “A Study In Multi-Dimensional Characters and their Associated Generalized Personality Traits”. I’ll be hailed as a genius, as I deserve to be.

I crack my knuckles, and see the little person pop up.

Surely enough, it’s @bi-sammy’s name that he has listed online, Simon. It’s curious, he has his last name listed as “Snow”. Although, the smallest part of me believes it’s a pseudonym. Given our interactions, I doubt he’s clever enough to think of a solid pseudonym. And, even at that, why pick Snow?

Either way, it’s surprisingly endearing. Simon Snow. Sounds sweet. Sounds innocent.

I watch his cursor turn on, then his icon goes grey after a few moments. My heart starts to trip, making my cheeks begin to flush. Is… he ignoring this?

No. He can’t be. I put in hard work and dedication into this work, and I deserve the respect I’d sent into it. Fucking hell, three fully developed points (his devotion to intellectual work, his effort to step out of public light for Sam’s sake, and his overall lack of ambition for moving forward). I clearly set it out, and ended it properly; I’d proven that Huxley is a Ravenclaw. Case and point, opinion made, the end.

And, here I sit, watching him have the audacity to open it up then close it back. That was my hard work put in there, and he closes it? Who in the name of all that is sacred thinks he’s that above other people to the point where he just ignores--

Oh. He’s back on. Nevermind.

He’s… probably a school student. It’s roughly the time that most classes end, I suppose.

I make a mental apology to him, despite having never ranted directly to him in the first place.

He stays active for a good bit; long enough to show he’s reading. I assume that he’d just close off and message me, but after minutes, I notice a little highlighted comment pop up on the last sentence.

Simon Snow i………. owe you every single possible apology

Each word makes me grin like I haven’t in a while. A wide, cheek-creasing grin. There’s something so sweet to that--so personal. It feels like a note passed to me in a classroom under the tables. Like a cute “Blink if you like me”, although I doubt he has quite an intention.

Nevertheless, it warms my chest, sending my head back as I smile. I’m not sure whether or not it’s the satisfaction of winning, or his words, but I laugh outwardly into the room. It stays with me, reverberating onto my skin and my throat.

I look back at the comment, then leave it untouched. If he won’t remove it, then I won’t either.

With a glance at our personal messages tab, I figure that’s that. Even field, no more argument. No more interaction. It’s a bit of a shame, given the effort I’d just extorted for his sake, that he hasn’t answered in our chat.

While I’m disappointed to close off the document, I smile at it one last time. Sometimes I have to move on from random people, especially when they come on a bit strong.

Except, I find, moments later that I’m wrong about one thing--the moving on. He didn’t just stop his interaction, but instead made a public post.

“@bi-sammy mentioned you in a post!”

This time, I really laugh. A full bellied, hand-covering-mouth laugh.

i guess i have to suck @gayhuxell’s cock now because i was wrong and the bloody arse was right. huxley is a ravenclaw.

#fuck me i guess

I take a minute, rereading over his words a few times before typing a simple answer with my reblog.

i’m available anytime behind a mcdonald’s parking lot

[dailydoseofbeautiful-image]

1) IT’S OKAY TO FAIL

I’m not sure how other 34 year olds feel when their 35th birthday is coming up. As for me, I felt like my failures grew more apparent. Celebrate what you HAVE accomplished and be grateful for another day.

2) CRAVE TO BE A BEGINNER AGAIN

I’ve been wanting to try something new for a good minute. Like point number one, it’s okay to fail at something! This goes hand in hand with being a beginner. I strongly believe in being a student of life. I always wanted to learn a new language.

3) LOVE YOUR PARENTS

We are often so busy growing up, we often forget they are also growing old! If you needed a reminder to call your parents, this is it. Do it now! My mom is my world. She was my worst enemy as a teenager but now my best friend as an adult <3

4) MOVE AT YOUR OWN PACE

Fuck what everyone is doing on Instagram. Fuck what your high school friends are doing. Fuck what your college friends are doing. Live your life at your own pace. If you had kids or want kids before marriage, fuck it. If you chose your career before a man, FUCK IT. You will move at the pace that is meant for YOU.

5) SO LIVE THE LIFE AND TAKE EVERY CHANCE TO BE AS HAPPY AS YOU CAN BE..

Being true to yourself takes guts. First, you’ve got to face everything around you and figure out what is important; what you think really counts ;). second, you’ve got to interact with a lot of people who may see things differently.

6) RELATIONSHIPS

No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater... The love we have for each other is bigger than these small differences. and that’s the key. it’s like a big pie chart, and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece. Love can make up for a lot.

7) SOULMATE

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah.. too painful. soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then Leave.

8) 30S ARE BETTER THAN YOUR 20S

It’s the same! Except we’re still young enough to have fun without making dumb decisions. We’re also more mindful financially! We always have experienced and seen things and know what not to repeat. I feel a little more at ease at 30. I’m caring less about what other people think. I really don’t have energy for it anymore!

9) WEAR THE FUCKING SUNSCREEN

My mom always told me to wear sunscreen on my face. I never listened. I have a lot of sunspots on my face now! Wearing sunscreen helps protect you from skin cancer, wrinkles and sunspots/freckles. If you aren’t listening to ya mama, listen to me! lol I wear Glossier’s Invisible Shield, but they’ve been sold out for a good minute. So, I’m currently using Super Goop’s Sunscreen Moisturizer. So far, it hasn’t made me break out!

10) TAKE OFF YOUR MAKE UP BEFORE BED

At the very least, keep some make up removal wipes beside your bed! I know we’re tired af at the end of the night, but you’ll be doing your skin a huge favor in the long run. Just know that make up wipes don’t take off everything, you’d be surprised how much is still on your face! So always try to go further and do your skin care routine.

11) LIFE

This Life is what you make it. no matter what, you’re going to mess up sometimes. it’s a universal truth. But the good part is you get to decide how you’re going to mess it up. Girl’s will be your Friends - they’ll act like it anyways. but just remember, some come, some go. the ones that stay with you through everything- they’re your true best friends. don’t let go of them. As for Lovers, well, they’ll come and go too. And i hate to say it, most of them - actually pretty much all of them are going to break your heart, but you can’t give up because if yoi give up, you’ll never find your soulmate, you’ll never find that half who makes you whole and that goes for everything. just because you fail once, doesn’t mean you’re gonna fail at everything. keep trying, hold on, and always, always, always believe in yourself, because if you don’t, then who will? so keep your head high, keep your chin up, and most importantly, keep smiling, because life’s a beautiful thing and there’s so much to smile about.

12) GIVE YOURSELF CREDIT

Everyone on social media posts their highlight reels but only a few share the grit and grind behind it all. Don’t forget to give yourself credit even for the smallest things that you don’t think is “post worthy”. Pat yourself on the back!

13) BE MORE SELF AWARE OF HOW YOU REACT TO OTHERS

I strongly believe in the butterfly effect. How you treat others can leave a positive or negative effect on them. I always try my best to be kind to others. If I can’t be kind, I’m very quiet! Even if people are mean to me, I think deeper like are they having a bad day? Maybe my kind act can help them change their mood.

14) BE NICE AND EXPECT NOTHING IN RETURN

Best recipe to live by. So many people offer a lending hand but expect so much in return.

15) DON’T FORCE THINGS – LET IT FLOW ORGANICALLY

Someone who forces shit to happen is ignorant & aggressive. You can’t force relationships or friendships to work out. It doesn’t work that way if it’s ONE SIDED. Sometimes, TIME helps a situation out. Let it play out, what’s destined to be yours will be yours!!! All relationships should be bloomed organically. Always try to understand one another. Some people don’t move like you and that’s okay.

16) YOU DON’T TOLERATE PEOPLE OR SITUATIONS LIKE YOU USED TO

Enough said. Ain’t no body got time for that.

17) IT’S NORMAL TO SEE A THERAPIST

You don’t have to be “crazy” to see a therapist. I did and it was life changing. There’s a huge stigma with mental health, but it’s actually more common than people think. People struggle with it daily but hide it because of the stigma. I also found out that students who are trying to become a therapist offer free or very affordable services to those who don’t have insurance! Check out any college and I’m sure you’ll find something fitting!

18) MEDITATE.. DO THAT SHIT PLS

Practice your breathing too! Headspace is really helpful app that concentrates on various subjects: anxiety, depression, stress, etc. I don’t meditate long! It can be as little as 3 minutes. Taking a moment to find yourself again can help you in the long run.

19) NOW’S THE TIME TO SEE THE WORLD

BITCH, you better be planning to travel!!!!! I can’t emphasize this enough. If you’re a woman reading this, we MUST DO IT NOW. Before you have kids, just do yourself this favor. You won’t regret it. Seeing parts of the world has broaden my perspective immensely!

20) MARI KONDO THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR LIFE: CLOTHES, BOOKS…PEOPLE

I’m at this point in my life where I’m looking at everything and everyONE and ask myself, does this spark joy?! It’s completely necessary for you to start fresh and say thank you to things and people who no longer serve a purpose in your life.

21) IF YOU DON’T HEAL WHAT HURT YOU, YOU WILL BLEED ON PEOPLE WHO DIDN’T CUT YOU (@THEASLAYWAY)

You can’t rely on someone else to fill the void you were supposed to heal yourself first. Don’t be selfish and make sure that you are completed healed when moving on to the next partner!

22) DO WHAT YOU WANT, POST WHAT YOU WANT, LIVE HOW YOU WANT!!!!

WE AINT GIVIN A FUCK IN 2019 & MOVING FORWARD. Go ahead and post what you want. We’re not living for the validation of others.

23) DON’T LIVE SOMEONE ELSE’S DREAM

Currently trying to get through this right now. lol

24) MENTAL HEALTH IS JUST AS IMPORTANT AS YOUR PHYSICAL HEALTH

This goes with 17 & 18. If I sound like I’m repeating myself, then it’s because I really am adamant about it! I didn’t always have GAD, but when I realized I had it, I learned to take the necessary steps to control my anxiety. I realized working out in the gym is not the only “exercising” I should be doing. I should be practicing affirmation, gratitude & meditation.

25) BE CAREFUL WHO YOU GET CLOSE TO

Some people really just in it for the gossip. Keep your circle tight and you’ll be aiite. For me, being in the social media industry has led me to meet several people. It’s rare to meet someone genuine, so I always make sure I keep my distance but still always show respect and give them an opportunity to open up.

26) OTHER PEOPLE MAY BE TOXIC IN YOUR LIFE, BUT MAKE SURE YOU’RE NOT THE TOXIC ONE

As you get older, accountability will help you grow. Owning up to your actions towards others can help you realize how you react towards others or situations. Before pointing fingers, make sure your hands are clean. I’m a strong believer of what you give this world is gonna come back to you.

27) PLEASE DON’T WORK OUT ON ONLY BOOTY AND ABS

I remember signing up for the gym and telling the membership counselor my goal was to grow a bigger butt and get abs. I’ve learned that your body works as a whole unit, not in isolation! Overall strength over aesthetic is the wave! I love being strong <3

28) RESEARCH HOW YOU CAN IDENTIFY PERSONALITY DISORDERS

You’ll come across people in your life that you can’t see eye to eye with. It could be family, your partner or your friends. I think it’s important to grasp a better understanding of personality traits/disorders such as narcissism, bipolar, emotional abusers, psychopaths, etc. They come or are in your life more often than you think! Not only do I suggest to gain insight on it, but also I recommend researching how to DEAL with it. I promise you things will come to light once you do.

29) LOVE YOURSELF – YOU CAN’T SERVE FROM AN EMPTY VESSEL

Your 20s are your selfish years. Remember to put yourself FIRST. We cannot love someone successfully without loving ourselves first. Our first love should be ourselves to know how WE want to be loved. We must feel secure before stepping into anything serious. Live life for yourself, be gracious and love yourself wholeheartedly.

30) BEFORE YOU ARGUE

Before you argue with someone, ask yourself, is that person even mentally mature enough to grasp the concept of different perspectives? Because if not, there’s absolutely no point.

31) NEVER TAKE RESPONSIBILITY

never take responsibility for ppl not seing your worth. There was nothing u could have changed them. No perfection would have made them loyal. No sacrifice would have them made committed. Stop taking blame for decisions that aren't yours

32) Success is never owned.. it’s rented, and the rent is due everyday. -pacman

33) SOMETIMES

I care too much, I trust too much, I think too much, I love too much, everything about me is just too much. But even so I wouldn’t want to change that about me. Just holding onto the hope that one day my “too much” will be everything someone could ever want.

34) FROM GOOD THINGS TO BAD THINGS

From good things, we learn to be a thankful person. From bad things, we learn to be a strong person. Remember that everything will not go the way you want it to. It's a matter of learning that life isn't handed to you. Stop worrying about what others want. Think about what you want, if you listen too much to what people say about you, you will never be who you really are.

[aquariusgod]

i know this is an astrology blog but HOW CAN I GET RID OF DEPRESSION

I’m not a therapist & I definitely suggest going to see one if it is something available to you. A lot of places have at least one mental health facility per county that will accept you even if you do not have insurance.But, knowing that people under 18 follow my blog, I’ll answer with little tips & tricks that help me alleviate my depressive symptoms.

• Balancing time with others & yourself. This is super important, as you don’t want to isolate yourself, but you also don’t want to avoid your problems all together. If your depression happens to stem from a situation, ignoring the issue will prolong your depression, which means you’ll need time to assess it alone or with the help of others (preferably an adult 21+ or that is very experienced & kind). If your depression stems from a chemical imbalance, spending too much time with others may cause a “crash” when you’re alone, making it feel like the symptoms are worse than before. This is hard to master, so try as hard as you can. • Your Sleep Schedule, fix it. Personally, when I’m depressed I’ll sleep for what feels like days at a time. Up at 1pm, asleep at 3am. Sometimes up at 4pm & asleep at midnight. It’s a real mess! Remember, if you aren’t sleeping right, you can’t eat right! It’s hard to totally just fix your schedule on a whim, so try & set up little coffee dates with friends earlier in the morning to force yourself awake. • To Cancel or Not To Cancel. 90% of the time, don’t cancel your plans in favor of depression. Unless your day is particularly bad, try & go out anyways. Even if you message them telling them you’ll be a little late, or may want to leave a little early. Keeping up with plans will grant you structure, even when your sleep schedule won’t co-operate.• Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner. Don’t forget to eat! Ever! Growing up, my diet fucked me over HARD. I was always out of energy, constantly depressed, and lived off of snacks & caffeine. It worked, technically, but not for the better. Even if you can’t have a full meal, try & just grab something. Maybe an egg for breakfast, a quick sandwich for lunch & some McDonalds for dinner. Work up the ladder. Make sure you have some protein. (So if you need something quicker than an egg, peanut butter toast is fine). If you’re eating light meals, bring snacks wherever you go. Again, healthier the better. Oranges, imo, are the best. Apples & Banana’s bruise & get disgusting too quickly. Oranges will last you for as long as you need them & taste fucking delicious. (If you’re not into fruit, again, peanut butter crackers for protein, cheese sticks, those “healthy” chips, ect).

Yeah, that’s all pretty basic. You’re gonna hear that shit a LOT. For probably ever? Here are some of the things that may be more specific.

• Everyone has somewhere that makes them feel calm, productive, and naturally feels alleviating. For me, it’s the shower/bathroom, with the water running. I feel like a total dick, but also, I feel something. So, when I’m depressed, I tend to take 7-10 showers a week. Sometimes even more! (My skin doesn’t like me very much, though). • Some people for more comfortable talking about what depressed them than others. That’s okay! If you’re able to talk about it with friends, do! If you aren’t, you don’t have to keep a journal or anything. Just try & talk to yourself & remind yourself that the depression isn’t permanent, you’ll find a way out.• Energy Renewal. Honestly, I spend one day a week away from everyone. Everyone. I text people (who I text everyday) and make plans for the following day. Otherwise, radio silence. I do stuff on social media, study if I can, and sleep. It’s not the healthiest, but usually if I’m extra depressed due to lack of a social battery, I feel a little better the next day.• “Self Care.” Yeah, you hear it a lot. This doesn’t have to be washing your face & using a face mask. This doesn’t need to be a bubble bath. Sometimes, it’s just curling up on your couch with your favorite blanket & remote in hand. Try & DO something relaxing, & don’t fall asleep. Reading a book is the best, but not something I’ve managed to make myself do in a long time.• Try & find something that seems to be a root of situational depression (whether it’s the general situation or if it’s a stressor thats made your depression worse). Try & work on it. Find out what it is, why it’s there, and what to do to “fix” it. Can’t fix it? Address it. Apologize, if you did something wrong. Address your fears. Hold a candle to the madness & tell it to fuck off to the plane it came from.• Avoid self-sabotaging behavior. Avoid impulsive behavior. That means no suddenly downloading tinder & fucking the first match you get. That means using a condom even though you don’t care if he nuts in you. That means no going online & buying 7 outfits you won’t wear because you’re having a hard time getting out of your pjs rn. It won’t be motivation. That means no drugs, unless prescribed. Try to keep from arguing with others (esp those you care about). Keep messaging your significant other. Don’t seek affection elsewhere if you’re in a relationship. The easiest way to put this is to be mindful of how you Fuck, Spend, Interact, Intake & Love. It takes a lot of practice, but try & identify if you want to do something because you like the idea & it sounds good, or you feel like it may feel good momentarily.• Look at the drugs you’re on, if any. If there is something prescribed to you, talk to your doctor about it & depression, and whether or not there are any medications that may not have that side affect for you. Changing medications can help significantly, especially if you’re taking birth control or something else for mental health / hormonal treatment. Seek out alternative medication with your doctor, in order to find something that both works for you & doesn’t harm your mental health.

Again, when it comes down to it, these MAY help. These are tips & tricks. The most important thing I can tell you — and I cannot stress this enough — is seek professional help. If it is not available to you physically, there are many online professionals through apps & sites. If you are scared of both of those, even seeking help of a trusted adult (teacher, family member, guidance consoler) is helpful. Someone who is a listening ear who can provide you proper guidance.Even then, only a therapist will be able to work with you in the necessary ways to completely do away (or help significantly) with your depression.

& I want to point out these things are NOT easy when you’re depressed. I’m currently going through a bout so hard I only eat maybe once a day, & that’s typically only when I’m starving. My sleep schedule is literally 4pm - 3am bc I don’t want to wake up. The only time I feel something is when I’m with friends & even then I tend to feel withdrawn. It is NOT easy. Do what you can. Go a little at a time. Do NOT beat yourself up if you don’t start tomorrow, but do try. The most important thing is, while it doesn’t necessary help your depression: stay away from things that can harm you. Don’t impulse spend, don’t fuck strangers, don’t do illegal drugs. These will only hurt later on, whether fiscally or otherwise.

[pegasus-ghost]

Ok. I wanna vent again.

Liam, my younger brother.

I wanna vent about him.

Sure I love him, he’s my brother. Despite his severe anxiety and people pleasing attitude, He’s nice, kind and understanding. Too nice sometimes, too.

I talk to him about a lot of things, even about my catfishing days, the guys I dated when I catfished as a girl, the dilemma I’ve suffered regarding my gender and sexuality. He listens. He doesn’t judge. And he gives good opinions and feedback as a listener instead of providing suggestions.

A great brother.

But. Yes. There’s a but.

I noticed something about him that I don’t think he noticed himself.

He had NEVER been active on social media. Never. He would rarely posts on his social media, and couldn’t be bothered to talk to new people online. He finds it weird and not into that.

In real life? He has this…. How do I say this… like, an entirely different side of him that is not what he portrayed to us family members.

Liam, he has tons of good friends. He keeps saying he’s an introvert, but he is actually good at talking and socializing with people, good at making friends. And people like him too. When he’s around his friends, talking to them over the phone, he would turn into this extremely goofy and cheerful self. Like the life of the party kind of person. Laughing like crazy, making jokes, and the way he talks was different too. He would have more intonation in his voice when he talks to them, like all cheerful and bubbly.

Strangely when he talks to me and Adam, he became an entirely different person. He toned down his goofy side. He doesn’t make jokes that often. He became more quiet, and withdrawn. More introverted. He would just lie on his bed and read his books, watch anime, and just do nothing all day. Most of the time he would sleep. The way he talks became more low profile and monotonous instead of being bubbly and cheery. Sometimes when I talk to him, I even notice that he just responds half heartedly, or a single ‘mmhm’ just to acknowledge what I said without actually listening. Sometimes he would just keep quiet and not even respond, like he just couldn’t care less. And every time I tried asking him about himself, he would just give simple answers instead of telling me the entire story enthusiastically like how he does with his friends.

I get it if he doesn’t feel comfortable telling me shit because I am very self aware that I can be very judgy and bitter sometimes with my feedbacks. I am aware that I do that, or am that person because I have so much internalized anger to everyone and everything in life that it just turned me into this person with a bitter mindset. While Adam is an opportunist who takes advantage over everything and everyone selfishly, I am a hardcore realist and I see things as how it is. Liam on the other hand, is someone dreamy, believes in true love, believes in romance, and is kind to everyone.

But the problem is, he acts the same way towards adam too, and Adam is like his best friend. Adam also told me the same thing, that he doesn’t understand how and why Liam acted so differently with his friends comparing to his own family and brothers.

Makes me wonder if he feels like he can’t trust us with telling his own feelings and personal issues.

Or, that he felt the need to put up a fake cheerful and bubbly personality to his friends so that they like him?

Or that, the cheerful and bubbly personality was his true personality, that he felt like he can be his happy self around his friends. But when it comes down to spending time with us, his family and brothers, it feels like depressive moments for him?

Why tho? He never wanted to tell us or open up about this.

What raised more question is that, first of all, he started tinder like a month ago. Started talking to all these girls online when the fact that he’d always told us he never liked going on online dating apps. He did mentioned to me that he felt exhausted talking to these needy girls online, and that he just wanted ‘someone to pin him down already and he wants to settle down with someone because he’s tired of talking to all these random girls’.

It sounded to me like he’s forcing himself to do this thing he doesn’t like, for the sole purpose of finding a girlfriend or a partner, something like that.

And I was like, dude, if you’re not ok with talking to the girls, then don’t. Stop forcing yourself and just stop talking to them. Nobody is stopping you.

But Liam being his withdrawn self again with his own family, just brushed off my comment and didn’t reply to me. Never said anything back to me to justify himself. Never gave any feedback on what I said.

He just…. Kept quiet, and again, kept his true thoughts, feelings and things to himself.

Second of all, I started noticing that he’s been actively posting stuff on his Instagram again. I overheard him talking to Adam over the phone about him wanting to do something like ‘posting everyday on social media’. Why? I have no idea.

So he’s been doing that. What’s even more weird and uncomfortable to me is that, he’s been posting a lot of personal things about his life, and his actual true feelings inside on his Instagram posts. And mind you, his Instagram is open to all families, friends and even our relatives. He’d been leaving captions on his photos on Instagram, making it look like a personal diary and shit. Expressing his melancholic thoughts and dreamy thoughts, happy and cheerful memos, throwbacks of his teaching days, etc. he even posts stories on Instagram where he would dress up in his best clothes and do all his hair and shit to make himself look handsome and presentable.

As if he’s trying so hard right now to make people notice him more. The online dating, the regular online posting. The very personal posts. Like…

I can’t lie, but I find it uncomfortable and I hated him doing that shit.

Because that’s not the Liam I know and see everyday. That’s a fake Liam online, a fake person he’s trying to convince other people (and perhaps even himself) of what he was supposed to be.

Like he’s trying so hard to make people like him and notice him more online.

And I find it personally offensive that he rather poured his feelings and heart out for EVERYONE ELSE to read over a stupid Instagram posts, instead of sharing his actual feelings and thoughts to his own brothers, me and Adam, like how Adam and I have been doing.

He’s a completely different person when he’s in front of other people comparing to when he’s with me and Adam.

And I hate that, I hate that he’s doing that shit, I hate that he’s being fake (either with us, or online, or with his friends).

I get it that we need to fake shit in front of co workers to get along. But he brings co workers friendship into a different level. He became best buddies with them. Talks to them like they’re his bestest friends in the whole wide world. Being all happy and shit. Dressing up for other people to see.

But with his family, he became withdrawn and depressed. Not talkative at all. Sleeps all day. Rather not express his feelings or say what’s on his mind, and just keep his statements short instead of telling us in detail like how he’s been doing with his stupid Instagram posts.

I fucking hate it.

Yeah again, the hate, I am again, internalizing my anger. I hate that Liam is doing this shit. And I don’t even know if he even realized he’s doing this.

And I hate how he doesn’t trust his own brothers enough to express his own emotions when both Adam and I literally shared our deepest darkest secrets with him and trusts him with everything.

I don’t know what to do with him. Every time I even try to talk to him, he doesn’t answer. He just keeps quiet. And that makes me even more angry. So most of the time I just rather not talk about it because I know he wouldn’t want to share anything with me anyways.

But oh boy I fucking hate his social media posts, acting like he’s all cute, happy and cheerful and bubbly, when the fact is that he’s all fucking depressed at home and sleep all day.

Feels like he’s a fucking hypocrite and I am so fucking annoyed with him being this way.

I posts rarely on my social media too but when I do posts, I’m always cynical. Which is who I am. I don’t post all that cheerful crap and shit because that feels fake to me. I’m not that kind of person. I’m a bitter, cynical, annoyed, indifferent, and ignorant kind of person. The thing I do to people I don’t know like my co workers, is to just be polite, and most of the time, I respond to them online by reacting using gifs because I couldn’t be bothered even typing out my response to articulate words to be nice to them. I’m not all happy go lucky and the closest thing you’ll get me to that is being polite and nice to you.

I hate how Liam puts his self worth that fucking low that he felt the need to force himself to become someone he isn’t, so that people like him. I hate that he felt the need to conform to society’s expectations like, there’s one true love, we have to marry our soulmate, the first meeting has to be cute and romantic, and we have to get married before a certain age and have kids and all that bullshit.

He even admits that it’s exhausting to do it. But he keeps doing it anyway. Keeps going on that stupid tinder to talk to girls in hopes that he would find his soulmate. He does that because he feels lonely and he wants to fit into this society’s expectations where everyone needs to have partners to be happy.

I fucking hate seeing him do all these fake shit because that’s not him, and that’s not what makes him happy. But he doesn’t realize that shit.

Fuck me, I’ve turned this post into a long ass novel. Ok you get my point.

Venting done.

[saviormysticmeme]

Well, a creppy boy started talking to me on the Tumblr chat saying weird shit and asked me to be his valentine out of the blue, so.. Yeah can I request RFA+V+Saeran reacting to that? A creep talking to MC and saying creppy stuff lol. Love ur blog 💕

Is he still bothering you? If he is PM me and his ass is grassOr if you’re just in need of a fake girlfriend/boyfriend/SO also say the word I’m there y’all don’t even know how good I look in drag

Forreal tho, if someone online is ever making you feel uncomfortable don’t be afraid to get assertive or reach out for help.

Anyways

 RFA+V+Saeran react to a Creep creepin on MC

Yoosung

Yandere Yoosung: ACTIVATED i imagine a magical girl animation sequence whenever I say that

You had shown him the messages immediately because you two were playing games on an online server together when you got random, creepy PMs from GameFreak90

‘hey there, I see you’re a high level. U must be pretty good with your hands

want 2 play a game together sometime? it doesn’t have to be online ;)

its almost valentines day you know. we can hang out. ‘

You were so uncomfortable, and it went from uncomfortable to freaked out when you asked GameFreak90 to stop messaging you and he kept going, starting to talk about all the things he’d like to do to you

Yoosung searched the guys name immediately and pulled up his profile

His hands never moved so fast

��Hey. Quit messaging MC28. She’s a good friend of mine and you’re freaking her out. -ShootingStar’

‘fuck off’

Yoosung was not having it. He didn’t have Seven’s hacking skills, or Jumins money, or Jaehee’s wit or anything the others had

But what he did have was his games

He pulled up TeamSpeak for his LOLOL guild immediately

“Guys, I need backup for an emergency raid”

It was over in minutes

Yoosung’s guild had raided and completely emptied GameFreak90′s base

Yoosung got a string of messages immediately after

hey man what the fuck

dude give me my shit back

fine im sorry im sorry give me my shit please

dude please

Yoosung just turned his mic on and with one last request of his guild “Hey, can everyone here flag this guy for inappropriate behavior”

In about 10 mins Yoosung went to pull up GameFreak90′s profile

It had been deleted

Yoosung had the smuggest of smirks on his face

Until

“My hero” You giggled and kissed him on the cheek

He went from war hero Shooting Star to blushing, stuttering, Yoosung real quick

Jaehee

It was a slow day in the coffee shop so you were just sitting at a table playing on your phone and sipping coffee

Ding.

Huh? New message.

Ding ding ding

You had a bad feeling before even opening your Fumblr app 

When you did open the little social media site, you were met with a bunch of unwelcomed advances from some strange follower

Hey valentines is coming up and im lonely

r u lonely to?

how about u be my valentine and we can go out??

You grimaced and replied with a curt “I’m sorry but no thanks”

come on babe

dont b like that

we can have fun

Jaehee had noticed to look on your face and immediately popped to your side

“Mc is everything alright?

“Yeah..I’m just getting creepy messages from some guy on Fumblr.” You handed her the phone so she could read them and her nose crinkled in distaste almost instantly

“Well your first problem is you apologized.” 

“Huh?”

Jaehee started tapping away as she spoke “Don’t apologize for not being interested. When you apologize it makes you seem more …docile. Submissive. If these creeps think you have an ounce of shyness or even politeness in you they’ll try to exploit it.”

“o-oh.” You stammered, surprised by how irritated Jaehee suddenly seemed

“Secondly,” Her expression softened a bit with a final tap on the screen “You didn’t block him immediately” She looked to you with a smile on her face, pleased with herself for whatever she said to your Fumblr follower

She handed the phone back to you and a light blush fell across your cheeks. Jaehee never seemed to be the protector type but when it comes down to it

Baehee isn’t letting anyone bother you

ever

Zen

He’s gotten his fair share of creepy fan mail, but he understands it comes with the job

But when you get creepy mail from his followers

NO NO NO NO NO

You two have all the fan mail sent to a P.O. Box so fans don’t have your home address

One time when you went to get the batch, the two of you found a handful of letters with your name on them

“My fans must see us together all the time” Zen said as he handed the letters to you, a cautious look on his face. He was worried it was going to be some fangirl writing a mean letter about how she deserves Zen instead of you

It was much creepier

It was a bunch of letters from some guy 

‘My sister is a big fan of Zen so I have to watch TV shows with him on them all the time. One time there was a news story about him, but you were in the picture with him…’

The letters go on to say how once the writer saw you with Zen he started searching you more and claimed you two would be a perfect match. He started suggesting you break up with Zen (offering for him to date his sister) and for the two of you to get together.

…

You have to literally hold Zen back so he doesnt march to the return address and beat the shit out of sender

“Zen it’ll be such bad press do not do not do not”

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT”

“YES YOU DO PLS ZEN”

20 mins later

He’s not calm, but he’s not bum rushing the door so…calm enough

“Let’s think of a reasonable way to handle this” You slump into a chair, exhausted from being the only thing standing between Zen and a physical assault charge

After a few minutes of silence

..”I have an idea.”

Zen pulled out a pad and started scribbling. “He said his sister is a fan of me? Well I’ll make her an offer she can’t refuse.”

Zen ended up writing a very heartfelt note to the sister of the sender, explaining the situation and how uncomfortable you were feeling because of the brother. And if the sincerity of the letter wasn’t enough to get her to make her brother stop, the VIP pass to Zen’s next show was a good bribe. 

He sent it out the next morning, and a few days later you guys checked the PO box to find a letter from her apologizing profusely for her brother’s behavior and how she’d handle it. And about 10 pages of ‘thank you’s and compliments for Zen of course. 

Jumin

Elizabeth would only chase a laser pointer for so long, so you had a lot of free time whenever Jumin was at work

You were no stranger to social media sites as they were the best way to distract yourself for hours at a time until you had something entertaining to do

And you’ve gotten spam bots before, but never a human who was actually so forward enough to send you enough messages to make you a small novel

you look really nice in your profile picture

is that designer? man you got money to

you’re a rich bitch. wanna come see what its like on the other side of town?

You were appalled. 

“Leave me alone” was the best you could muster since you were in such a state of disgusted shock. 

The messages continued, and you ended up just blocking the guy. But even after that just looking at your phone made you a little nervous that you were going to see more messages from another douchebag

But nope

Same douchebag. Different site. 

why’d you block me? playing hard to get?

“How’d you find my profile?”

it’s not hard to figure it out since I saw your name on the other one ;*

You just blocked him again and put your phone down, resolving to entertain yourself with anything else that wasn’t social media.

Eventually Jumin came home, and the first thing he noticed was your phone sitting on the coffee table and a specific lack of…you.

He went into a panic for a moment before you stepped into the hall, freshly showered. 

“Oh, MC, there you are. I was worried for a second. You’re usually not far from your phone.” 

“Yeah..” You muttered. “Some guy just keeps bugging me”

What

What do you mean

What guy

How

You explain the situation to Jumin and his phone is to his ear almost immediately as he picks up yours with his free hand.

“Luciel? I’m cashing in on a favor….”

You knew immediately where this was going and you had a slight grin on your face, knowing the creep who kept messaging you wasn’t going to be bothering you or anyone else anytime soon

Seven

You don’t even waste time

The second you get the first creepy message

hey hot stuff

You hand your phone to Seven

He just looks down at the screen, and a devious smile spreads across his face

Sure he could mess with anyone he wanted, but this time he has an excuse to go all out and ruin this Creeps life.

Seven whips up a program in a matter of minutes, connects a USB from his computer to your phone, then texts the man back

‘Hey cutie…wanna see a picture? ;)’ and he attached a file 

It says the message was received and viewed, but no response was given.

“What’d you do?” You ask as Seven hands your phone back

With a big smirk on his face:

“Once he opens that file his phone is going to run through his chat logs and play back all his creepy messages  on a permanent loop on his screen. And if he has any wireless connection to his computer, say, cloud storage, it’s going to happen to his computer too. And every few minutes he’s going to get a picture of me dressed as a maid, because I have to deliver, you know?”

You give Seven a huge hug “Ugh, thank you. How will I every pay you back”

“You already did” He laughs

“Huh?”

“You’ll see” He winks and goes back to his computer.

You shrug and walk away, figuring you’d find out soon enough

And you did

The next time you opened your phone, your background was a nonstop slideshow of 707′s Greatest Crossdressing Pics

And all your app icons were selfies

And your gallery was filled with pictures of the red headed hacker

“SEEEEEEEVVVVVEEEEEENNNNNNNNN”

V

V was sitting on the couch and you were upstairs cleaning up and putzing around

Ding

V looked to see your phone light up on the table 

“MC, I think someone messaged you!” V yelled up the stairs

“Will you check it for me? It’s probably just a guest with a question about the party.” You called back 

“Sure.” And with that he opened your phone to find a rather crude picture  “What in the world”

my friend gave me ur number, thought you’d like this ;)

V was horrified that someone meant for you to open this 

‘I dont’ He typed back.

awww come on. you can tell from the pic im a good looking guy and my friend says ur cute. why dont we hang out

“No.” V glared at the number displayed at the top of the message board

playing hard to get? i like

V realized there was no reasoning with this idiot, and he thought it would be a waste of time trying to further communicate with a fool like his, so he bit down his better instinct and just sent a picture of himself glaring at the phone camera and typed “You’re talking to a man”

there was no reply for a moment

my friend said this was a girl

“I can assure I am not a female. Your friend gave you the wrong number. Go away”

There was no response but V was sure he could feel the embarrassment from the other side of the connection

With a satisfied huff he deleted the messages and number, figuring it best if you never have to worry about the situation

He also plans to find out which one of your friends would give your number to such a vulgar creep. 

Saeran

You two were watching a video on your phone when you got a sudden chat request on Kiik, a messaging app

Saeran cast a quizzical look at you and you return it with a shrug, signalling you had no clue

When you open it up theres just a bunch of weird messages

hey babe

hey

wanna be my valentine

i dont want to be lonely and i bet you dont either

we can keep each other company ;)

You didn’t even have a chance to respond before Saeran took the phone from your hand

“Fuck off” He was holding your phone so tight you thought he was gonna snap it in half

wow ur not very polite

“I said. Fuck. Off.” Saeran let out a breath that sounded like a growl

come on baby dont be like that

You could see a fire in your friend’s eyes and you knew things were about to get bad

“Send one more message and I’ll end your miserable existence, Scum.” 

“Saeran let’s just ignore it” You tried to take your phone back but he wouldn’t let go, too hyper focused on the screen. Instead he looked at you and said “He shouldn’t be talking to you this way.”

Ding

Both your eyes shot back to the screen

so you’ll come see me ;)

Whoever was on the other line had nooo clue who they were taunting

Saeran got up slowly, so slow it was a little creepy, when you looked at him you could see the gears running in his head

He walked over to his computer and started typing away, looking to the phone every now and then.

After about 20 minutes he finally came back to sit with you and handed your phone back.

“You….You good, Saeran?” You asked, surprised at how calmed he seemed.

He looked to you with a smile on his face and a glint in his eye. “I’m very good.”

You were almost worried to ask but “What’d you do?”

“Not much. But he’ll leave you alone soon enough.”

You stopped asking questions, he wouldn’t tell you the details anyways.

..

That night you were awoken to 

Dingdingdingdingding

You fumbled around in the dark and eventually opened your phone to see messages from the Kiik app

Iuwefjkgl

ahfuoieqhwf

please helpfehofejijeqiue

…..

I’m very sorry for what I said to you earlier. I will never contact you again. If I do my fingers will be broken.

You knew immediately. 

“Saeran what’d you do???” You sent the text

All you got back was “:)” 

[gamelyplanet-blog]

Cuphead, “casual” modes and hypocrites

I don’t want to spend too much time on this, so I’ll just rant a bit about the recent nontroversy around the indie title “Cuphead”. This is off-the-cuff, blog post stuff, with minimal editing. You’ve been warned.

So, Cuphead, the charming 2D shooter that impressed everyone with its retro-cartoon presentation during E3 2017, has somehow become the center of discussion regarding difficulty in games and the value of design vs accessibility.

Or so games media claim, because make no mistake, before I write down anything else; the only reason the usual suspects opened their mouths to shit out the usual pseudo-intellectual, arrogant drivel is because this entire thing started when the Internet got wind of one journalist, Dean Takahashi of GamesBeat, having trouble with the tutorial of Cuphead during the last Tokyo Game Show.

Let’s also get this out of the way: Dean, dude, I don’t know you. I dislike what passes for games journalism these days, but I’ve never read your stuff or heard of you before. The mockery towards you for that Cuphead footage was, as far as I’m concerned, unwarranted. I don’t have the context to support or condemn you for it; it was during a con, it was an earlier build of the game, the footage looked a little pathetic, but I really don’t know. So, I didn’t say anything against you, but I’m sorry for the shit flung at you.

The problem is that the primary reason this shit even became an issue is that the representatives of games media and their indie hipster buddies started this years ago; and in the last few days, they seem hell-bent on widening the gap between media and gamers in the worst way possible. Blame GamerGate or whatever, but we all know the mocking of journalists’ gaming skills became popular when Polygon posted that pathetic footage of their playing 2016′s DOOM and failing spectacularly at what’s a very basic shooter.

It wasn’t on a whim, either; we’re talking about an entire part of the industry that for years pretended to be an authority on video games; they talked *over* their audience, they talked *down* to their audience, they mocked, they demeaned, they insulted their audience; because they thought they “knew better”. Nobody would’ve really paid any attention to Polygon’s DOOM footage and all that it represented, if Polygon wasn’t a publication that gave “Tropico 5″ a 6.5 by first prefacing the score with the claim a city-builder game should’ve included commentary on dictators and banana republics and authoritative regimes. Nobody would’ve care about Polygon’s DOOM footage (nobody would’ve even seen it, really), if a few years back Arthur Gies hadn’t literally body-shamed 2.5 points off of “Bayonetta 2″, fucking Platinum Games out of their bonus. Polygon are representative of the state of games media right now and they’re not the only ones.

No better proof of all this than how suddenly there are “editorials” on Rock Paper Shotgun and Polygon and Twitter threads by indie game devs that spend most of their time pretending they’re the bastions of intellectuality in game design, whenever they don’t spew shit at their annual circle-jerk that we refer to as the “Game Developers Conference”. John Walker of RPS, when commenting on “Assassins Creed: Origins” new “no-combat” mode, was quick to point out that gamers are hell-bent on maintaining the challenge of harder games, because they are exclusionary. Then, RPS published another article about Cuphead’s “Simple” mode (which prohibits the player from getting the true ending); oh, they were quick to note that it was “satire” toward sites like Kotaku, but any knowledge of RPS or Walker, a senior editor, raises questions to the validity of that claim. Then, Walker himself decided to challenge the term “gameplay” on Twitter because it’s a vague term, apparently never occurring to him that his criticism is pretty fucking vague in itself. Typical overcompensating with which games journalism is rife at the moment.

Rami Ismail, an indie developer who has yet to say a single thing that could be deemed correct or valuable to anyone outside his industry bubble, was quick to link that piece of shit editorial and argue for providing players with the freedom to play a game how they want. I must’ve missed that memo when the market was being flooded with third-rate crappy-looking pixel-art platformers and walking simulators. Suddenly “freedom” and “choice” matter.

Unless it’s the “Mass Effect 3″ ending; if you want choice to matter then, you’re just “entitled”.

Here’s the rub; there’s no discussion to be had. This isn’t an interesting topic or a new discovery for games development. This is as old as gaming itself. Player freedom exists within the developer’s freedom. Player agency is a component of game design, not a handicap. When someone makes a game, they don’t feed data into a generator and then the machine farts out a complete project. Every weapon, tool, and slope or bottomless pit in a level have been designed to complement each other. Difficulty options aren’t bad; quite the contrary. But they’re limited and they can harm the game’s artistic vision irreparably. Do you have any idea how many games I played and found boring on easy mode years ago, only to return and really appreciate them now that I’ve improved? That’s why Walker got shat on for his challenging the term gameplay; his criticism was off-base. The art in games is in the mechanics. Gut the mechanics and the art is degraded to popcorn shit.

Difficulty isn’t just challenge and it’s not just a means to frustrate the player; it’s a tool and it’s a component a lot of the time. The better developers know how to use it to the game’s benefit. It’s also something that’s an umbrella term; what’s difficult for one person and what’s acceptable in terms of challenge differs for someone else. Yes, I’m kind of bumped out I cannot play the Souls series; it seems like it has very interesting combat mechanics, but sparse checkpoints are a no-no for me. I’ll take any challenge you throw at me, but don’t make me retry the same thirty minutes of game all the time. Should I send an angry letter at FromSoftware for not neutering their game for my benefit? I wager those checkpoints are integral to the Souls experience; so, they can stay and I can fuck off to Twitch to watch a stream about it.

Accessibility, for that is the right word and not “inclusion”, is a moot point in this day and age. There are many games to choose from, in different genres, from different developers. There are countless people talking about them and about as many streaming them. The consumer is instantly and easily informed about the specifics and they can make an informed purchase. The notion of being “owed” game progression because you bought the game is ridiculous. Am I owed my money back for not liking that new cocktail I decided to order? Am I owed to see my team win the Champions League (google it Yanks), because I paid for a season pass?

Going back to Walker, after the butthurt for being challenged on his idiotic remarks regarding gameplay, he tweeted that he’s only trying to make gaming accessible. The problem is that gaming, as a whole, is extremely accessible; more now than ever before. All you need to do is download a free game on your phone and lo and behold; access. If you want something more serious, have a look at the simplified, free-to-play MMOs, some even published by AAA companies. The point is, there is not even an admission price to gaming anymore. One niche game for one niche audience isn’t going to turn people away from gaming. What the fuck are you even talking about, John? Nobody in the history of gaming has suggested all games should be Cuphead or Dark Souls. All they suggest is that we make whatever we want and choose what suits us best. You keep raving like a lunatic about “gaming culture” and “toxicity” and “gate keeping” and you’re the only assholes out there to consistently shout, pull rank and cause problems. You are professional trouble-makers, John!

What is fitting is that Ubisoft did indeed announce they intend to add a “skip combat” option in the upcoming “Assassins Creed: Origins”. Is that a good option? I honestly can’t tell, because I’m not familiar with the AC games. I’ve never played one, so I lack the context. If the Assassins Creed games provide a semblance of engaging gameplay by skipping combat, i.e. if exploration is as integral to the AssCreed experience as combat is, then it’s an acceptable compromise. After all, even Minecraft has a casual mode, because hiding from Creepers isn’t the point of that game; mining resources and building shit is.

When the indie portion of the industry started making its mark, we were all delighted; more choice, more games, more space for original ideas and variety, away from the boundaries of AAA publishers. But now, no; now we have a social issue in our hands, now we’re talking about how making the game you want is a matter of “culture” and it’s a discussion that we surprisingly never had before, not even when shitty Twine text apps somehow made it to Steam. Curious that.

“Inclusion” has been the industry standard since at least the days of the original Playstation, when gaming went truly mainstream and turned into a ridiculously profitable industry. The alternative is bad business. There is a reason we now have context-sensitive UIs for everything and why there are more tutorial messages than there are lines of dialogue in so many AAA titles; they want their games sold to and played by as wide an audience as possible. The indies can do something different.

What’s really getting on my nerves in all of this is the hypocrisy; Souls? Fine. Super Meatboy? Fine. Megaman 9? Fine. Bloodborne? Fine. So many hard games, but no, now it’s a “discussion” because a bunch of self-involved writers decided to shit-talk gamers and developers alike for clicks. Again. Fuck, even these very outlets reviewed Cuphead well; but then they found the chance to latch on to a bunch of innocuous tweet and demean their audience again, because presumably their traffic went down. Again. Alas, playing video games isn’t a social issue. The bullshit presentations at GDC that tell you you have a social responsibility when designing video games are lying to you. If you’re a journalist, nobody owes you shit. Do your market research before you buy and let people create and enjoy whatever the hell they want.

Walker’s “Skip Button” word vomit on AssCreed

RPS’ “satire” article on Cuphead

Ben Kuchera’s desperate effort to publish something without saying anything, but only citing what others said, on Polygon