#honestly i should delete the app

[the-bot-marg0t]

....

[rickyyysaurus]

Genuinely so funny to me when ppl on Twitter try to insult each other bc like. You main on Twitter my guy, you're already bottom of the barrel, you aren't better than anyone else on there 😭

[venussbeehive]

*bonk* there are people who love me *bonk* my worth is not tied to a man *bonk* I’m awesome with or without my great tits

[thecenturyofmusic]

Twitter has the worst discourse about Jedi ever

[meraxes-of-new-albion]

Sigh. Love it when people on the internet feel entitled to your existence

[drdemonprince]

any advice for coping with being on the receiving end of a public callout ?

Oh yes:

Do not acknowledge the callout publicly. It will only further its spread, lend it legitimacy, cause you to be interpreted as guilty, and convey to anyone who bears you ill will that you are rattled and feeling socially threatened.

Do not act out of urgency. One of the ways that cancelled people get themselves in far worse trouble is by spiraling due to anxiety and rushing to issue a statement about what has happened, or to attempt to socially manage public impressions about what has happened. Do not do this. Anything that you say will be picked apart and used against you. The situation is truly not as urgent as it might feel. A lot of times, doing nothing and being quiet is the best way to proceed, and the dust will settle better if you do.

Do not issue a public apology. If you truly feel that you have wronged someone, that conflict should be worked out in private with the people you have directly affected. You do not owe the anonymous public audience a damn thing. Do not apologize for something you don't honestly believe that you have done wrong. Take time and really think about what happened, and seek the counsel of people whom you trust in PRIVATE.

Do not attempt to disprove the callout unless you have crystal clear, smoking gun evidence that the person who accused you is actually victimizing you. And even then, probably don't do it. I have only seen a disproof of a callout work ONCE, and that was when Juniper Abernathy revealed the person cancelling her had been abusing her. Even if the facts are on your side, acknowledging the accusations will only make more people aware of them, give your detractors ground to criticize your every word, and will muddy the waters and make people find the situation confusing and troubling rather than clear.

GET THE FUCK OFFLINE. Delete your social media apps for the time being. Turn off notifications. Turn off DMs requests. Change your settings so that you only ever hear from people you already follow (I do this, on the advice of Philosophy Tube). Get away from the computer.

Connect with IRL friends. When you're wrapped up in a cancellation, the negative opinions of a handful of foaming at the mouth freaks loom way larger than they actually are. And social media dramatically skews our sense of social priorities such that the approval rating of complete strangers starts to seem more important than people we actually know, and trust, and who actually know us. Go get a meal with a buddy. Watch a dumb movie. Talk to your grandma about her plans for her garden. Surround yourself with real people you care about and focus on their life and problems, to help put things in perspective.

Find distracting, active, rewarding activities that bring you out of the digital space and into physical reality. Not everyone is talking about you, not everybody hates you, most people have no fucking clue what has been said about you, and most people do not give a fuck about you (that's good). There are so many areas of life that are completely fucking untouched by what a bunch of social media power users have to say online. Go volunteer to clean up a park, run some errands, take an exercise class, foster a dog, regrout your bathroom, knit a hat. Even if the worst case scenario happens and a cancellation sticks, it's really only among a certain very vocal group of miserable fucking people. There is a whole world around you that will not ever care, and you will have a life outside of this.

Good luck!!

[preqwells]

cw: implied smut, fluff

roommate simon who had just saved your sorry ass yet again from another failed date. he didn't know where you found these men, honestly. "your poor taste get to you again? or just desperation?" he'd ask mockingly which made you want to choke him then and there. you'd only grunt in frustration which proved him right-- probably both. he'd tease you more if it wasn't for what you had worn tonight-- it wasn't like it was a problem, it was just… distracting. you were distracting. he didn't like the way your perfume made him feel heady and borderline dizzy as he drove you two home-- couldn't stand it, honestly.

he didn't appreciate the way you'd dance around the subject of you two, either. why were you going out with these men when he was right there? were you scared because you two were roommates and friends? were you scared of messing up what you guys had? he didn't know and at this point didn't care to probe-- your lack of interest was all-telling.

at least, that's how it was in his perspective… he didn't notice how your gaze consistently lingered on him-- the way his frame hulked over yours when helping you get something off the top of the fridge, the way you'd greet him 'good morning' as he grunted back as your eyes followed him, trudging into the kitchen. he didn't even notice now how you eyed him in the passenger seat with his cologne encompassing you, almost enticing you.

but he did notice how you got out of the car as you two reached your shared apartment, there was a lingering sense of tension-- an unspoken question of why you two had let this cat-and-mouse game go on for so long. "i'm deleting these stupid fucking dating apps-- all i meet are weirdos." you declared with a huff, prompting simon to raise his brow as he finished parking his car, closing the door effortlessly as he locked it. "and whose fault is that?" he asked as a matter-of-fact as you two approached your door, your eyes narrowing as you drew yourself closer to him.

"yours."

"mine?"

"did i stutter?"

"don't gotta stutter to be wrong, love."

"fuck you."

he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he opened the door for you. he didn't take you seriously-- he had no reason to. you were like this all the time. "whatever you say." he mumbled, his voice a deep rumble as your eyes raised to meet his. little did he know you were serious.

you had proposed to watch a movie together on the couch as a way to end the night-- you were hoping maybe everything didn't need to end on a bad note, even if your date had gone to shit. he decided to indulge you, maybe against his better judgment. you got all but maybe an hour into the movie before you two started sharing glances. one, here and there-- two, just because you had finished off the last of the popcorn and it irked him-- three, because of the way your laughter at a scene in the movie had coaxed a small smirk from his lips-- four, just because of the way the flickers of light from the television were illuminating your features as you snuggled closer to him. "maybe… i should go to bed." you whispered to him, looking up at him with a slightly hazed look from your exhaustion. the warmth of your breath brushed against his cheek, the proximity intoxicating as your eyes flickered between dark molasses eyes and plush pink lips. "really?" simon asked softly, as if testing your resolve.

"really."

"tired?"

"…something like that."

simon went quiet as he caught onto the growing tension, his hand snaking around your waist to readjust your position on his lap as you helped, looking up at you as you lazily straddled him. "something like that?" he mumbled, his thumb trailing down to run along the fat of your hip. you leaned in, your lips ghosting above his as he reciprocated the change in your position, tilting his head to meet your lips in a slow kiss. your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled you closer to him, your lips slightly parting to let out a small noise of surprise when he suddenly squeezed your thigh, simon failing to resist the urge to see what makes you tick. you felt his tongue probe at your lower lip, teasing you. "so-- you're gonna uninstall those apps?" he asked breathlessly in between kisses.

"we're… in the middle of making out."

"so?"

"so?"

you let out a small yelp when his hand traveled to your ass to give it a small pinch, prompting you to jump. "ouch--! yes, yes! i am! god!" you groaned out in faux pain before you caught a glimmer in his eye, a satisfied hum escaping him as he began planting kisses along the side of your jaw and down the side of your neck as he lightly nipped at your skin.

"mm, good."

[milkpansa-archive]

.

[buckets-and-trees]

Pull the String

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 3.7k Summary: Friday, September 28, 2017. You have to live a normal life after meeting a larger than life figure. It's doable, and you're not stuck in summer dreams, but you do think of him from time to time. Another encounter in the Exiled Nomad Series.

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, kissing, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, overstimulation, hint of praise kink, internal ejaculation, overstimulation, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not

Author Notes: I wanted to finish this for your birthday proper, @stargazingfangirl18, but alas, only managed for birthday week. It's not a standalone, so it technically won't fit into your Birthday Bonenanza, but I did use a prompt from your list (bolded dialogue). Credit to @biteofcherry for helping me flesh out Mark from accounting a little bit.

You blinked and then read the text message again.

Something’s come up, sorry, have to cancel tonight.

It was only twenty minutes before Mark was supposed to pick you up for dinner.

A third date dinner.

YOU: Are you okay?

You typed and sent the quick text back.

You saw the three dots that indicated his typing, then they disappeared. You frowned. This was really unlike him. Mark had been nothing but reliable and a gentleman since you’d met him. He worked in the accounting firm on one of the other floors of your office building, and you had seen each other a few times at the coffee shop on the main floor in the morning. He was smart, funny without being a goof. You felt wholly normal around him.

And after having your world rocked on earthquake levels by Captain America over the 4th of July holiday, normal was what you wanted.

MARK: Everything’s fine, but we should probably call this off.

“What?” you couldn’t help actually exclaiming out loud.

You scanned up and down over your texts.

YOU: Did I do something wrong or misread the situation?

You really didn’t think that you had. In fact, you were sure of it, but you’d let him explain just in case.

It had been a few weeks, and the texts had ebbed and flowed naturally. After your second date last Sunday, you’d exchanged a kiss that had been modest but had enough heat to it that it left you starting to think about more. And last night the texts between the two of you had gotten a little spicier than any previous exchanges. Nothing vulgar, but flirty enough that you had shaved your legs and had been debating all day over what to wear.

In your silk robe, makeup finished, and hair nearly done, apparently you didn’t need to make any wardrobe decisions other than slipping into a comfy t-shirt and leggings now.

MARK: No, it’s nothing you did, and I hope we can just be friends.

Your jaw dropped and you threw your phone across the room.

Friends?

You abandoned your mirror, no need to finish getting ready at this point, and went to pick up your phone.

Fuck Mark.

But you opened your text thread with him one final time.

YOU: No hard feelings, if it’s over it’s over, and we can be cordial if we run into each other, but honestly I’m not looking for more platonic friends.

Run-on sentence aside, you felt good about the text after you hit send, and you promptly blocked Mark’s number and deleted all the texts.

And what you said was mostly true.

You actually could use some more platonic friends in this town you’d lived in for less than a year, but you weren’t looking to be friends with guys who did but then didn’t want to date you.

But well into your thirties, you were so used to and exhausted by the runaround of talking, of the dating apps, of the first dates that fizzled into nothings – first dates that you rarely even agreed to go on anymore because it usually turned out to be a waste of time with men who were too boring or too horny. For a moment Mark had been a breath of fresh air, normal and nice and endearing.

And apparently not worth the time and effort you had sunk into the beginning of the blossoming relationship either.

Even at that thought, you were glad you had already followed your self-imposed rule of deleting messages, because you already had the itch to go back and re-read, and so it was good you had removed that temptation. No need to torture yourself.

You turned on your favorite album, cranked up the music, and ordered delivery from your favorite Italian restaurant with tiramisu and extra garlic bread.

You would watch your favorite movie, indulge in your favorite food, and later put yourself to bed with another chapter of the spicy romance novel you were reading and a nice session with your favorite vibrator.

Fuck Mark.

The app said your dinner would arrive in thirty-five minutes, so you slipped into leggings and one of your old comfy t-shirts, and flopped onto the couch to wait, the song from the opening credits of the movie making you feel just a little bit better.

At this stage of life, it was just annoying that Mark had called it off. Make it through dates three and four and people your age were reasonably sure they were headed down the relationship road together. At least that’s how you operated. You knew yourself enough that you weren’t dating someone to try and figure out who you were like you maybe had at times when you were younger, trying to live up to some expectation of society. You were busy enough that your free time was precious, and so you didn’t go on frivolous dates. Most important, as seemingly everyone around you had peeled off and gotten married while you remained perpetually single, you had to figure out if you could be happy alone, and you’d spent time to figure that out and truly find happiness. It was lonely sometimes, but overall you had built a good life, put your time into things that really satisfied you.

When you realized you were more annoyed at having to start over again than over losing Mark, you sighed and realized that was both a good and a bad sign. Good because you clearly weren’t going to be hung up on Mark, but bad because he really hadn’t meant much – you’d just wanted him to.

A small ache in your chest resurfaced.

The person you did miss was Steve Rogers.

And you held no bitterness there – it had been so clear for both of you that it was a summer holiday fling – but you did have some leftover longing.

Who could blame you?

When The Avengers had come together in New York in 2012, you had swooned over Thor, but there was something so steady, charming, and trustworthy about Captain America down to the bone that your admiration had developed into quite the crush. You knew the parasocial relationship that you and the rest of the world developed with him over the years was synthetic. It was fun and harmless.

But then you had met the real Steve Rogers in the flesh – and spent time flesh to flesh with him over the Fourth of July weekend.

The days you spent with him had been both intense and surreal. You had context to who he was from history books and the public persona, but the man behind the shield was naturally and infinitely more than what screens, books, and social media could ever portray. It was clear that being in exile from his country and on the run from most of the world due to their signing of the Sokovia Accords had changed him. But as you talked and spent time together, you suspected that losing his freedom had also freed him in some ways from the burdens of expectation and the colossal mantle and responsibilities of being Captain America.

He hadn’t given up his sense of duty to still help when and where he could, but he could simply be Steve.

In the nearly two days and two nights you’d spent together almost constantly in each other’s company, you’d shared so much, talking over things that were both trivial and meaningful as the conversations evolved. You’d spent time in serene silence together as well.

All of that felt stolen out of the pages of a book on its own.

But then there had also been the sex.

So much super soldier sex.

Rough, intense, sensual, exquisite, and all-consuming.

All of it – the physical and emotional – had been more intimate than anything else you had ever experienced.

Logically you had also come to realize that the pure fact that you both knew the time was so limited and fleeting undoubtedly allowed both of you to suspend boundaries and open up in ways you wouldn’t have if it had been a more conventional coupling up situation.

Yet it didn’t take anything away from the memory of those days together.

Logically you also knew no one would ever compare to him, and you had been realistic about that.

But tonight you wouldn’t worry about letting your thoughts drift to Steve.

It was more difficult to think of the emotional, and so your mind diverted quickly to the physical.

The way he had looked at you, touched you, kissed you, pleasured you. The feel of his cock inside of you. His fingers and his mouth ripping more orgasms from you than…

“No,” you scolded yourself out loud and groaned. “It’s too early on a Friday night to be thinking about sex with Steve.”

Not that it did any good to say so.

You pressed your thighs together, feeling the ache the worst at your core.

No longer paying any attention whatsoever to the movie you had going on the tv, it was the doorbell ringing with your food delivery that saved you from the spiral of desperately horny thoughts you were caught in.

There were two bags deposited on your doorstep, and you snatched them both up eagerly. The larger brown paper bag was emanating some heat, so you opened the smaller one first, assuming correctly that it held your tiramisu. You snatched a spoon from your silverware drawer and went for a sweet, indulgent bite. A little spoiling before you turned to the savory feast.

That bite made you moan in satisfaction. You savored the way the cream was perfectly smooth and balanced with the coffee and liqueur-soaked ladyfingers.

Your doorbell rang again, and you rushed over to open the door, assuming the delivery person probably realized they had forgotten a precious part of your meal – likely the garlic bread, and that would have been a sin!

Spoon still in your mouth, you opened the door and then froze.

Wearing the same aviators and non-descript baseball cap, Steve Rogers stood before you, as if it hadn’t been nearly three months since your once-in-a-lifetime encounter.

This couldn’t be real.

And yet his aggressive grip on your hip as he backed you into your place and kicked the door closed behind him was irrefutable.

Your heart raced as Steve pressed you against the wall, his body flush against yours. Your spoon clattered to the floor. He discarded his sunglasses on the table by the door and then captured your lips in a searing kiss. His beard scratched your skin, a delicious friction that sent shivers down your spine. Your lips parted for the demands of his hungry kiss, and when he licked into your mouth, his tongue slid against yours slowly for a moment, and you knew he was tasting the sugary sweetness of the bite you’d just savored, savoring it himself.

When he finally broke away, you gasped for air. "Steve? What are you doing here?"

"I shouldn't be here," he murmured against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. "But I couldn't stay away."

Your mind reeled. This couldn't be happening. "Isn’t it risky for you to come back?"

Steve's thumb traced your lower lip. "Some risks are worth taking."

You melted into his touch, your body quickly abandoning reason. You yanked him closer by his shirt collar, kissing him fiercely. You removed the hat that was already askew on his head and tangled your fingers in his hair. It was longer now than when you'd last seen him. He groaned, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you to the couch.

Steve laid you down on the cushions, his body covering yours as he kissed a trail down your neck. His beard scratched deliciously against your sensitive skin, making you shiver. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the tight muscles beneath his shirt.

"I've thought about this so much since I left," Steve murmured against your collarbone. His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach.

You arched into his touch, desperate for more. "Me too," you breathed, that confession opening a dangerous door you had tried to keep closed inside of you.

Steve's hands pushed your shirt up, exposing your breasts. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you. Slowly, reverently, he lowered his head to take a nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue made you gasp and clutch at his neck. He gave it a hard, long suck before letting his tongue swirl around your nipple again, laving at it as his hand kneaded the other. It was all you could do to moan, arch into him more, and hold onto him like a lifeline.

Steve kissed his way down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your leggings, looking up at you with a nearly feral hunger in his eye, something dark that sent a thrill of both adrenaline and desire through you, and you lifted your hips because no one had ever looked at you with so much need.

Steve slowly peeled your leggings down, his eyes never leaving yours as he revealed more of your bare skin. You shivered as the cool air hit your exposed flesh, goosebumps rising on your thighs. Steve's large hands caressed up your legs, leaving trails of heat in their wake. He settled his broad shoulders between your legs, spreading you wide beneath him. He kissed the inside of your thigh, then nipped at your tender flesh, making you yelp, before he soothed it with his tongue and then another kiss, even softer than the first. Then he shifted, and you could feel his hot breath against your most intimate parts, already slick for him. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he placed an open-mouthed kiss to you there, and you sucked in a breath.

"God, I've missed your taste," he growled.

Without warning, he licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, making you gasp and arch off the couch. His strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for him as he explored you with his tongue. He circled your clit teasingly before sucking it into his mouth, the pressure making you cry out in pleasure.

Steve's tongue was relentless, alternating between broad, flat strokes and precise flicks that had you writhing beneath him. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to stroke your inner walls as he continued his assault on your clit. The dual sensations quickly had you climbing towards your peak.

"Steve," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your thighs began to tremble as you teetered on the edge of orgasm. Steve redoubled his efforts, his fingers pumping faster as his tongue flicked rapidly over your sensitive bud.

With a cry, you came undone, your body shuddering as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Steve worked you through your climax, lapping up your release until you gently pushed his head away, oversensitive.

But he growled and bit at the inside of your other thigh. “I’m not done eating my fill of this pretty cunt yet.”

You gasped at Steve's words, a fresh wave of arousal pulsing through you despite your recent orgasm. His blue eyes were dark with desire as he looked up at you from between your thighs.

"Steve," you breathed, torn between wanting more and feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of sensation.

He seemed to sense your hesitation. "Color?" he asked, his voice husky but almost gentle.

"Green," you replied. How could you deny him? This? When you assumed you would never see him again.

Steve's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Good girl," he purred, before diving back in.

This time, his tongue explored you even more thoroughly, dipping inside you to taste your essence before returning to your clit. He alternated between broad strokes and precise flicks, keeping you on edge. When he slipped two fingers back inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot, tears were creeping up on you for the mingled overstimulation and ecstasy.

Your hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against Steve's face as he worked you towards another climax. The coarse hair of his beard rubbed deliciously against your inner thighs, adding to the overwhelming sensations.

"That's it," Steve murmured against your flesh. "Let go for me, sweet girl."

His words, combined with a particularly well-timed curl of his fingers and another hard suck on your clit, sent you careening over the edge once more. You cried out, your back arching off the couch as your second orgasm ripped through you, even more intense than the first.

Steve didn't let up, his tongue and fingers working you through the aftershocks until you were a trembling, oversensitive mess. Only then did he pull away, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before sitting back on his heels.

You lay helpless, trying to catch your breath. He leaned forward and caught the tears on your cheeks with strong swipes of his thumbs. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be ruined for anyone else.”

Your breath caught in your throat at Steve's bold declaration. The intensity in his eyes made you shiver with anticipation.

"I already am," you confessed softly.

Something flashed in Steve's eyes - possessiveness, pride, and a hint of vulnerability. He surged forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he devoured your mouth.

Steve's hands roamed your body, relearning every curve and plane. When he cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive nipples, you arched into his touch with a gasp.

"Please" you mumbled against his lips.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

You surged forward for another kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. "I need you inside me."

Steve groaned, his hips grinding against yours. You could feel the hard length of him through his jeans, and you ached to have him fill you completely. He sat back, quickly stripping off his shirt to reveal his chiseled torso. Your hands roamed over his muscled chest and abs, marveling at the perfection of his body.

As Steve unbuckled his belt and shoved his jeans down, you took the opportunity to remove your shirt fully, leaving you both gloriously naked. He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of you laid out before him, flushed and wanting. His eyes raked over your body with such intensity that you felt more exposed than you ever had before, curves and scars and imperfections on full display. You felt yourself flush under his gaze.

You reached for him, pulling him down on top of you. The feeling of his bare skin against yours was electrifying. Steve captured your lips in another passionate kiss as he settled between your thighs. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, and you rolled your hips, silently begging him to take you.

Steve broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as he slowly pushed inside. You both groaned at the exquisite feeling of him stretching and filling you. When he was fully seated, he paused, but not long enough for you to adjust to his size. But the painful pleasure of it only fueled your hunger for more of him.

"You feel so good," he breathed, his voice strained, words hot against the crook of your neck. "So tight and perfect for me."

You whimpered in response, overwhelmed by the fullness and the intensity of having Steve inside you again after so long. Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders as he began to move, starting with slow, deep thrusts that had you gasping with each roll of his hips.

"Steve," you moaned, arching into him. "More, faster."

He growled low in his throat, picking up the pace. The couch creaked beneath you as Steve's powerful thrusts drove you into the cushions. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, changing the angle so he hit that perfect spot inside you with each stroke.

"That's it," Steve panted, his voice rough with desire. "Take all of me."

Your world narrowed to the feeling of Steve moving inside you, the sound of skin on skin, and the increasingly desperate noises falling from both your lips.

Steve's rhythm became more frantic, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force. The intensity of his thrusts had you clinging to him, nails digging into his back as pleasure built within you. Each powerful stroke sent shockwaves through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Look at me," Steve commanded, his voice husky and strained.

You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The raw emotion you saw there – desire, possessiveness, and something deeper you couldn't quite name – took your breath away.

"I want to see you fall apart," he growled, never breaking eye contact as he continued to drive into you relentlessly. “I want to watch what only I can do to you.”

One of his hands snaked between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with the precision he perfected in the heat of July.

"Come for me," Steve commanded, his voice strained. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

His words and the relentless pressure on your clit sent you spiraling into ecstasy. You cried out Steve's name as your orgasm crashed over you, your inner walls clenching tightly around him. The intensity of your climax triggered Steve's own release. He groaned, burying himself deep inside you as he came.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Steve's weight pressed you into the couch, but you relished the feeling of being surrounded by him.

When both of you settled back into even breathing, he planted slow kisses along your jaw and blazed a trail back to your mouth. Cock still inside you, he kissed you slowly. Slow and unrepentant, in no hurry now, only drinking you in, and you let your hands stroke up and down his back, relishing in the impossible and stolen closeness.

You could survive a second encounter with this super soldier.

READ their next part/later that night: Put Me Back on My Shelf read more of the: Exiled Nomad Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[malusokay]

2023 reset guide

Glow up

2023 vision board. Visualize your dream 2023 and write down your goals!

Daily Hot girl walks. No excuses, babes; let's get moving!

Reflecting on 2022. Look back at what you've accomplished and what you could have done differently.

Make a Bucketlist. Write down places you want to visit and things you want to do.

Extended self-care. Take some time to yourself to recover from the stressful holidays and get back on track. <3

Buy a good SPF. Do some research and find something that works for you!

Start Investing in yourself. Money, time, and energy. Put yourself first!

Annual check-ups. Make a dentist appointment, go to the optometrist etc...

Buy a Silk pillowcase. Protect your skin and hair!

Set clear boundaries. And make sure that people respect them!

Less screen time. Self-explanatory.

Manicure, lash lift, haircut. High maintenance to be low maintenance! ;)

Wellness

Daily vitamins. Visit a doctor to discuss which ones you should be taking for the best results.

Morning stretches. Wake up your body and drink some water!

Skin/hair care. It's time to find products that actually work for you.

Reading more literature. Set yourself a daily reading goal.

Planned grocery lists. Make a grocery list that aligns with your dietary needs and goals to make shopping less stressful. <3

Less coffee. Especially if you struggle with anxiety!!

More greens and protein. Let's give our body what it needs.

Journaling. Truly helps with overthinking!!

8 hours of sleep. Beauty sleep. <3

Cooking for yourself. Such a cute form of daily self-care.

Yoga. Or just any low-impact exercises in general.

Deep cleaning

Organizing your closet. Only keep things that make you feel beautiful.

Budgeting. Check your bank account and plan ahead.

Clean your hairbrushes. Trust me...

Donating clothes. Donate the items that you don't wear anymore.

Clean your make-up brushes. The first step to clear skin!!

Fresh sheets. Wash your pillows too.

Charge your electronics. IPad, Mac, Camera etc...

Get rid of expired make-up and skincare. Step 2 to clear skin, lol.

Declutter stationary. No need to keep dried-out pens.

Delete old emails. I currently have 1840...

Delete unnecessary apps. Anything you don't need.

Clean your camera roll. Making some space for new memories! :)

Cut out toxic people. <3

Mindset

Pretty, smart, kind, and prioritising myself.

Positive affirmations!!

Your daily habits play a huge role in your mood/life. Be mindful, and take care of yourself.

It's okay to outgrow people!!

Decide what kind of life you actually want and start saying no to everything that won't get you there.

"I'm attracting opportunities that align with my dream life."

A girl who will do big things can't let small things bother her.

Honestly, reinvent yourself over and over again until you are satisfied with who you are.

Do you want to be comfortable, or do you want to grow?

"Am I doing this for me, or am I performing for others?"

very high standards. VERY HIGH STANDARDS.

Be obsessed with yourself.

2022 has been such a life-changing year for me, not only personally but also regarding my social media! As I already said on Twitter, I'm incredibly grateful for this little community that has formed this year, and I'm excited for all the things that lay ahead of us! I wish everyone a successful 2023 with many beautiful moments and lots of growth!!

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[itsnathateasy]

randonauting with these aot characters

warning: heads up that this is about some (mild i think?) creepy content, so if you’re not comfortable with it, please skip!

word count: 1,3k

a/n: i’m not encouraging you to download the app and of course this isn’t an ad, just thought it’d be a cool fic idea! (DO NOT DOWNLOAD THE APP)

before you read: you and your partner decide to download “randonautica”, an app that gives you randomised location coordinates based on the intention you set.

Eren is probably the one who originally told you about the app. He had been watching TikToks of people who’d previously used the app and thought it might be a cool little game. When you told him you’d actually downloaded the app and set the intention to “monster” he gave you a smirk and suggested that you go there together. What a better way to spend your weekend, right? You packed a few necessities, some lunch, water and flash lights, and headed to the coordinates you got. The place turned out to be extremely sinister and, at first, neither of you wanted to step out of the car, especially not in the dark of the night. You took some tiny steps towards an abandoned cabin that you could spot in the distance, when you heard a swift rustling in the trees. You and Eren took a good look at each other, then ran back inside the car and drove away as fast as possible. “Delete that stupid app, y/n… And disable your location NOW!”. (love me some “heroic” bf Eren!) (what a loser)

You and Armin go out there for strictly educational reasons, or that’s what you tell yourselves. Walking deeper into the clearing that was your coordinates, you don’t notice much, when, all of a sudden, you find a bone and ran back to the car as quickly as possible. When you’re far enough, you go through your photos and videos of the location again. “Hey Armin… Remember that bone we found?” “Don’t start, y/n, that was some crazy shit. We’re not going back there, whatever you say!” “No, listen… There’s barbecue stove in the back. See? I got a picture of it. Maybe it was an animal bone? From someone’s lunch?” Armin inspected your face for a bit, and demanded that he saw the photo you took. “That might be true, y/n… But we shouldn’t risk it.” He said as he took a good look at you. A few minutes later, you were back at the site, looking for more clues. You walked past a row of sycamore trees before finding yourselves in someone’s backyard. Turns out that it WAS a barbecue site. You’d probably copied the coordinates wrong, maybe a digit was missing? Armin was barely able to convince the old lady who lived there that you’d made a mistake. Good thing he’s got those “big blue eyes” and is “so polite to the elderly”, as the lady explained. As a truce, she packed you a few slices of her home-made oat and chocolate cake. “Y/n, should we eat the cake?” asked Armin as you walked the distance back to the car, holding onto the wrapped food. “Nah Armin, this kinda gives Hansel and Gretel. Let’s just leave it here”. You said, concealing the cake behind a bush.

Mikasa would be very interested when you tell her about the app and she insists that you go. “Set the intention to “vampires”, y/n. We might get a cult site!” she said with a straight face. It was so difficult to discern whether she was making a joke or if she was genuinely excited to try out the app. “Uhm, you do realise that this isn’t a game, right Mikasa?” You asked, just to make sure. “I know, it’s no game. It’s even better. We should probably buy gas masks before we plan our excursion” she explained. “What would we need the masks for?” you asked, honestly contemplating if suggesting randonautica to Mikasa was a good idea after all. “I don’t know, y/n, what if whoever is there watching us tries to gas us or something? Just saying, we should be prepared.” She said and went back to typing on her phone. After a few minutes of silence, you’d reconsidered and made your decision. “Listen, Mikasa, the more you speak of it, the more scared I become. I don’t wanna go anymore” you admitted shyly since you were the one to suggest it. “Too bad, y/n. I just received our coordinates and it’s not very far. Grab your boots, we’re leaving” she said blankly, while reaching for your toolbox from under the kitchen sink. “Why are you looking at me like that, y/n? You’re gonna love it, I promise!” she said with a wink. Who is this person?

Jean was also the person to tell you about randonautica, but when you, quite proudly too, announced that you’d downloaded the app and set the intention to “creepy”… You were into some serious trouble. You got a good scolding session, as Jean was extremely upset by your carelessness. “Have you not seen how the people who end up in these locations usually have to report back to the police cause some creepy dude starts stalking them?? How about that mother and son who had to leave their home for days before the creep lost their tracks? Don’t be so naive, y/n, that shit’s dangerous!”. He did apologise afterwards, as he was the one who made you listen to all those stories and treated them as a true crime podcast. “How about we book an escape room instead? Or a rage room? You should pick, y/n! Anything yo keep you away from that app”.

“I’ll call my cousin if we need help, she’s a police officer! She should be able to help us” Connie explained as he drove to the location you’d just received on the app. “Aren’t you afraid we might come across some creepy dude with a hammer?” you asked, your anxiety mixed with excitement peaking the closer you got to the location. “Need I remind you that I did bring our own hammer, y/n? Whatever creep we meet should know better than to mess with me!” He exclaimed proudly, giving you a side smirk. Connie’s phone buzzed, you’d reached your destination. As Connie parked the car, you got out and took a good look of your surroundings. The coordinates led to a spot under a bridge, which would be extremely bad lit, had you not convinced Connie to go during the day. “I don’t really like this place, Connie. I think we should go back” you announced, not really straying too far from the car. “Don’t worry, y/n you’ve got me and I’ve got the hammer. We should be more than fine!” You walked a few meters further, approaching the exact spot you’d received. “What did you set as our intention Connie?” you questioned as you spotted a tall figure in the distance. “Maniac, why?” He asked absent-mindedly as he kept looking for clues on the ground. “Cause I think we’ve company...” He jolted up and followed your gaze, reaching that figure. “Don’t scream, y/n, but run as fast as you can!” He said and pulled you away from the site and back to the car. "Better call your cousin now!" You half screamed as you drove away.

Listen to me, Hange is fucking insane. Ever since you two discovered randonautica, it was all they ever talked about. For your weekend date, you actually decided to go on your little horror adventure. “What should our intention be Hange?” you questioned as they started the car. “Hm… Let’s see… How about cake?” “Cake?” “Yes, y/n, cake. Imagine the possibilities!” They said and threw their hands in the air. You got the coordinates and they drove ahead to an area not so far from your shared apartment. As Hange pulled over, you noticed there were some logs scattered here and there but most of the area was desolate and covered by dry, yellow grass. “Promising, right, y/n?” Exclaimed Hange. “It’s just a bunch of logs, Hange, there won’t-” “LOOK OVER THERE!” they shouted, pointing at a rusty cool box that was a good thirty metes away from you. “Don’t you dare go near it Hange!” you grabbed onto their hood before they could go any closer to the cool bag. “Y/n, this is what we came here for! Let me go check it out!” they complained as loudly as possible, trying to escape your grip. “What if it’s a crime scene, Hange? Would you like to find some random person’s insides? We’re leaving this instant!” you dragged them away and back to the car, much to Hange’s resistance. “You know, y/n, that could’ve been a really cool finding...” They pouted, their final card on getting you to go back again. “No, Hange. Most likely, WE would be the really cool finding. That cool box might have been for our remains. Delete the app.” Reluctantly, they did.

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls 14 part 2/2

Masterpost 

Danny had kind of ignored the most important part of that initial message. Crud. Of course the poor bastard wanted to know about the progress on their spiritual separation. Danny cringed. He typed fast to send a new message before Jason could ask again.

It did not come out easily. He wrote and deleted two drafts before he groaned aloud. “I am not prepared to tell him that the options so far are either to marry and divorce me or to get his ass banished from the ghost dimension.” Danny spent a moment pitying himself. “I just have to say the truth.”

Cringe. Cringe so hard. 

I have two possible solutions but they both suck really hard. :/ Suck so hard you’d be shook. The suckage would change your life.

Jason sent back ellipses. It belatedly occurred to Danny that it might have looked like he was making a blowjob joke. He put the phone back on his chest and stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering why he was this way.

“Jason didn’t see that,” Danny told himself. “Jason is a professional. A professional something. I don't know what.” 

He wanted to believe it so badly that he just decided not to be mortified. Danny lifted the burner phone back up and painstakingly assembled a shrug emoji from symbols. 

Honestly they’re such bad options that I don’t even wanna tell you. Can we change the subject? : (

Jason sent back a series of laughing and crying emojis and then, Fine. Let’s talk about all the other stuff we have in common.

Danny pursed his lips. “...Do we have anything in common?” It wasn’t like he knew much about the guy, but he presumed Jason kept himself busy with some boring adult job, building muscle, and biking around looking hot. Danny crossed his legs at the knee and tried not to think of what a twig he looked like in comparison to Jason. He didn’t feel bad about it, honestly. Danny was too busy to make fitness a part of his personality and he had nothing to prove.

I’m illiterate, he settled on as a response. They definitely did not have a love of literature in common. What else did people do? I uh…. Watched a movie two years back.

Any good?

T’was shit, Danny admitted. Hm. He frowned. “I’m not sure where to take this conversation,” he said aloud.

I’m so hungry. Just got off work and I’m trying to decide what to do.

“Oh, I can do something with that.” Danny felt better. Yeah me too, I would kill for an enchilada. He tried to send a ghost emoji and groaned when he remembered that this was a shitty burner phone with no keyboard downloaded and apparently no access to the app store. Jason had already responded by the time that he gave up.

Ghosts eat Mexican food?

They would if they have human zone money, Danny sent back morosely. Oh no, it wasn’t fun anymore. Ya boy can’t pay in the tears of the damned anywhere on this plane of existence smh. His stomach growled with obnoxious timing. He groaned. The last thing he’d eaten had been that sandwich with Jazz. He could cook… He really should cook. 

Ugh. Effort. 

Danny tried to motivate himself up to the kitchen. “It’s four steps,” he said aloud, trying to be encouraging. “I can make it.”

Ah. No. That was actually kind of depressing. He lived in a shoebox with a monthly grocery budget that was just pitiful.

Haha ur broke, Jason sent, because he was a massive bitch. Danny felt a lot better about flipping him off. But then Jason followed it up with an obviously insincere, I’d get you enchiladas if you were in Gotham. Sucks to suck.

Danny sensed weakness to exploit.

“You’re going to regret that,” Danny grimly promised, and hit the call button.

Jason picked up on the second ring, sounding confused and electronic. “Hey?”

“I can be in Gotham for enchiladas,” Danny threatened. His stomach growled again. “You feeling brave? Huh? Huh?” He punched a finger at the air in accusation. “I’m not scared of you or your dank gargoyles, leatherboy.”

There was a weird mechanical sound. Maybe a snort? A laugh? “I’ll send you a GPS point, if you’re there in ten I’ll buy you all you can eat.”

Danny went still like the predator he was. “Bring your life savings.” He hit the end call button and launched himself off the couch to go stuff his feet into his shoes. He let his apartment door slam shut behind him carelessly. He’d made it to the ground level before the pin point landed.

“Fuck, it’s even in my neighborhood.” Danny laughed, flush with petty victory. He looked left, right, and went invisible before he went ghost. There was no one around at this late hour to see him drop off the visible spectrum.

[imdonewiththisblogsblog]

(Hello! Here’s some incorrect quotes!)

Kickin-Chicken : *Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat*

Bobby BearHug : If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents.

Kickin-Chicken : If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you.

Bubba bubbaphant : Actually I did the math, Bobby BearHug would have $225, not $0.15.

Bobby BearHug : Fam I’m right here....

Dogday: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :)

Kickin-Chicken : while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please?

Dogday: Sorry I only have a dollar.

Kickin-Chicken : :(

Bubba bubbaphant : Hey I just realized my friend is right, Bobby BearHug would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent.

Dogday: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice.

Bubba bubbaphant : You can buy anything you want with $22,500.

Catnap: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice.

Bubba bubbaphant : Apply juice to what.

Catnap: Directly to the forehead.

Bobby BearHug : Great chat everyone.

Dogday: I just got the best idea I've ever had in my entire life!

*Later*

Catnap, to Dogday: That was the worst idea you’ve ever had in your entire life.

Bubba bubbaphant : *tapping fingers on table*

Craftycorn: *taps fingers back furiously*

Bobby BearHug : …What’s going on?

Dogday: Morse code. They’re talking.

Bubba bubbaphant : -.-- ..- .-. / - …. . / -.-. ..- - . … -

Craftycorn: *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

Catnap: What do you three have to say for yourself?

Bubba bubbaphant :

Craftycorn:

Dogday: Oops?

Bobby BearHug : Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Catnap: I'm a knife.

Dogday, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

Kickin-Chicken : Not gonna lie, I'm kind of afraid of Catnap...

Bubba bubbaphant : As you should be.

Kickin-Chicken : No, for real, they're kind of-

Bubba bubbaphant : As. You. Should. Be.

Hoppy hopscotch : Who would you swipe right for? Craftycorn or Picky Piggy?

Catnap: I would delete the app.

Bubba bubbaphant : Do you mind if I slyly mention that you’re single?

Catnap: Do not do that.

Bubba bubbaphant : You won’t even notice!

Dogday, entering: Bubba bubbaphant , you wanted to see me again?

Bubba bubbaphant : Catnap's single

Catnap:…

Dogday: Hey, can we stay in your dorm tonight?

Catnap: Why?

Dogday: Bobby BearHug fiddled with an ouija board and cursed ours.

Picky Piggy: Craftycorn doesn't know how to banish spirits, so they just throw salt at them and yell "DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A HOTEL TO YOU?!"

Bubba bubbaphant : Everyone knows that Santa is an invention designed by the big five corporations to sell tinsel and video games to an unsuspecting public.

Kickin-Chicken : The whole “childhood wonder” stage just blew right past you, didn’t it?

Craftycorn: it’s illegal to look better than me.

Catnap: I guess we’re all going to jail then.

Catnap: Sometimes I get so caught up on being gay that I forget I’m actually bi.

Dogday: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into-

Catnap: You sleep with a teddybear.

Dogday: He’s my sECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

Kickin-Chicken : Ooh, somebody has a crush

Catnap: Pfft, I don’t have a crush on Dogday I just think they’re cool, it’s not like I stay up at night thinking about them.

*Later that night*

Catnap, very much awake: Uh oh.

Catnap: I want to kiss you.

Dogday, not paying attention: What?

Catnap: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Kidnapper: We have your child

Kickin-Chicken : I don’t have a child? Kidnapper: Then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crusts off their sandwich?

Kickin-Chicken : Oh god, you have Dogday

[wanderingaldecaldo]

An open letter to the Cyberpunk fandom in general, and a few people in particular

It’s time to clear the air, and I want to take responsibility where appropriate.

Before we get into the recent drama, a history lesson is in order, both for the newer people in fandom and for those who have been around and just haven’t heard things from my side. This might be long with all the linked posts, so buckle up.

I don’t talk much to people about my experiences in fandom for several reasons — first, I don’t like to talk about others with people I don’t know; gossiping with friends is one thing, but otherwise it’s an undesirable trait. Because I’m human and fallible and absolutely capable of failing to meet my own standards, I have violated that rule, and it rarely does anything good. Second, even when I do share, people don’t tend to believe me because the responsible party, PinkyDude (PKD), has been “so nice” to them. “Surely there was a misunderstanding” is the most common response. 

No, there’s been no misunderstanding. He has harassed me repeatedly, both directly and indirectly, and has deleted most of the posts he’s made or reblogged from his friends/mutuals/followers that would serve as proof of this harassment. I could dig up old screenshots that people sent or I saved myself after being told of a post’s existence, but honestly I don’t want to go through that dreck again; my mental health is worth more to me than that. Instead I’ll present in my own words what happened to me over the last three years. I have spoken publicly about him three times before now — four if you count my response to the anon, which never referenced him or his ship. All of those posts are still visible and will be linked. I told you this would be a long read, but you need the context.

I joined Tumblr in spring/early 2021, back when I only wrote fic and played on console. PKD blocked me the first time I posted my fic, as is his right. As I was new to Tumblr, I didn’t understand the Tumblr app was actually telling me I was blocked whenever I clicked on the links on Discord, so I thought it was just bad software. Spoiler: it’s still bad software (affectionate). When I found out I was blocked, I was upset; I didn’t know about RSD at the time. I sent one anon asking why he blocked people; I was just a lowly AO3 author and he was the big, popular modder, and I was baffled and very upset and should have closed the browser, to be honest. He answered and explained why he blocked people (totally valid!! I will continue to emphasize that!) and shared how blocked people could still view his blog in a number of ways. Honestly, it was too much work for me to go through all of those steps, so I moved on with my life.

Not long after, he did unblock me for a few weeks and posted how someone had shown him how to filter posts. He messaged me to tell me I was unblocked, and we exchanged a few courteous messages. I believe I asked if it would be okay if I followed him. I know he expressed concern about me feeling discomfort at his ship. I don’t remember my exact response but I said I thought they were cute. That was the whole point of me joining fandom — I want to share love for blorbos! Things were civil, as far as I knew, though based on his comments later, it seems he and I had two completely different experiences. Where I believed I was polite and tried to be respectful to someone who had established boundaries, he accused me of being spiteful and vengeful. Soon after I started taking my own VP (with Mitch) he blocked me again. He sent a message to apologize that he needed to do it, and made a vague post that was directed to me, I assume, as it was something like “Sorry I tried” or whatever, and I moved on with my life, or tried. I still saw his Mitch pics in Discord servers when people shared them, though I saw fewer that were just Mitch alone.

The first time I spoke about PKD was Fall 2021, during the “not PKD approved” debacle, where someone (a follower of his! Not my follower! I cannot stress that enough!) reblogged a gif of Val and Mitch with the tag “not PKD approved.” I shared a screenshot with friends because, uh, that’s what you do, right? That’s what anyone would do — share a screenshot of an offensive tag with friends. One of those friends, a writer who had published Mitch/V on AO3 and also received anon hate on their Mitch fics, thought it was funny and used it for their Discord status. Someone shared that status with PKD, and he made vague accusations about who started the hashtag. 

I publicly defended a person who thought they were being accused, a friend at the time, and made the only statement about him that I regret and would take back — I commented on his propensity for reblogging posts that emphasize having the right to block people. I shouldn’t have said that, it wasn’t appropriate, and I apologize. Of course everyone has the right to block people for whatever reason they want. I disagree with what I said then and retract it now. 

Back to how I was targeted... Remember that it was my post that someone tagged with another person’s name; another person who had me blocked because of their jealousy about seeing anyone else with Mitch. I never named the person who tagged my post, yet I was deemed the perpetrator. Many months later, Zwei DMed me when we shared a small server to offer the most non-apology apology ever for telling people that I started the hashtag. Thanks, Zwei! Almost makes up for the other lies you told about me!

The second time was my response to the anon I got trying to “educate” me after the Pawel stream. I never referenced PKD or his ship. We’ll come back to this more in-depth later because it’s what PKD keeps using to harass me.

The third time I spoke publicly about PKD was when Silvay (sp?) posted first on Twitter, then later Tumblr. I posted a follow up the next day. I debated not saying anything. I’m an avoidant person. I don’t like conflict. I have a loud bark and no bite. My former team members can attest to this. But when I do... I don’t make public statements I’m not willing to defend, which is why everything I have linked is still published.

I do recommend stopping to read the posts linked here, and even the other posts I reblogged at the time from other people who shared their own experiences with PKD and the fandom. As I said, I don’t make public statements I won’t defend; or at least apologize and issue a public retraction. But, if you want to stay with the present and would rather have the TL;DR: I was regularly vagued about by PKD or his friends/followers, calling me transphobic and homophobic; one accused me of corrective rape; and I got tired of it.

I thought that posting publicly might bring some closure. It was cathartic to finally get it out and stop carrying that shame, and it was reassuring to hear from people who had similar experiences. At the same time, quite a few people made their own posts along the lines of “HE WAS ALWAYS NICE TO ME”. 

Oh, but he’s always been nice to me!

Look me in the eyes. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you truly believe he would be nice to you if you shipped with Mitch. Do you really believe he would? Do you think he would “block and move on” with you, unlike how he did with me?

None of those people shipped with Mitch, or other characters that people in his clique were protective over. A few months later he made a post saying not to tag me with him, and listed off every screenname I had used since I joined fandom, including the very first tumblr name I was assigned in 2021 and kept for several months because I thought it was funny. How’s that for a dog whistle? Want PKD’s attention? Better not tag wash!! [I’m sure there’s a screenshot somewhere but again, I didn’t have the energy to find it.]

By the way, why do I know all this? If I’m blocked, I shouldn’t see anything he posts without circumventing “the system”. We are mutually blocked and I don’t spy on him, or have my friends spy on him. I always knew what was going on because people were always quick to let me know anytime he was vaguing about me. “Friends” who were really concerned about the latest thing he said about me, or thought it was just terrible how people were always attacking my ship and wanted to share that feeling with me, but they only shared those thoughts in private. Slowly I separated myself from people who felt the need to keep me updated on drama, or some of them separated themselves from me and became friends with PKD, to the point that either nothing happened for some time or I just stopped seeing it, at least until last fall.

The last time I talked about him publicly was when I wrote about Fem V Friday in Fall 2023. Through the usual chain of vague posting about vague posts, a third person wrote a vague post and cast aspersions on the origin of Fem V Friday, suggesting it was created out of jealousy. PKD helpfully weighed in about a person named “W”  starting FVF from jealousy and spite, and implied he’s seen things I’ve said about him. I’d love to know what I’ve said, the context in which it was said, and the context in which he was told about what I said. 🤷

My post in response didn’t reference the vague post that spurred its creation, nor what PKD said about me, even though PKD must know my intentions and history better than me. I wrote about my love for Fem V and what drove my continued involvement week to week.

Despite my attempts to keep to my own corner or defend my name, PKD continues to defame and harass me. He has repeatedly dragged other people into his drama, sometimes my friends, just as he did in May when he brought up my anon response again. 

It was over two years ago now that I received the anon to “educate” me on Mitch being gay. I have never believed PKD sent the anon, despite his implications, and I have certainly never told anyone that he did.

Two years ago, a coward came into my inbox on anon and tried to bully me, and instead of spending a day writing five thousand words on “death of the author” and what constitutes canon and refuting the argument that I didn’t want to have, I used that energy to write about my ship in my favorite genre (smut) and published a fic on AO3. Neither my fic nor my response on tumblr referenced Mitch being gay or PKD’s ship. Before we go further, I encourage you to watch the relevant clip from the Pawel stream. It’s only 30 seconds of your time, but those 30 seconds are what PKD and others have used to justify their harassment of me.

The transcript for anyone not inclined to watch:

PKD: Am I right to overanalyze every detail in every place like the gay romance novel in Mitch's tent? Is that intentional? Pawel: My friend, on this stream, you could have learned already that everything is intentional...

The “gay romance novel in Mitch’s tent” is 1000 Beats Per Minute, a shard found all across Night City, nay, the continent as the shard/prop can be found in such locations as All Foods just after you meet Dum Dum, the foot of V’s bed in A10, and So Mi’s Brooklyn apartment. 

The contents of the shard are worth reading, if only for recognizing that the narrator is an ungendered person named “Alex” who is experiencing love for a man for the first time. Is Alex a man or a woman or neither? Whoever they are, Alex is having a queer experience, and to insist that the shard can only be about gay men is to erase a lot of other queer experiences.

Back to my anon response, PKD once again called my response transphobic and homophobic, though I will give him credit for saying he wasn’t calling me trans/homophobic, which is an upgrade from previous posts. He claims that I used the smut that I wrote as my response because I referenced writing “the smuttiest pussy eating smut I could”. I said “pussy eating” not in relation to anything about the claim that Mitch is gay, but as response to the intentions of the anon, which were never good.

The full context of my words: 

Not entirely sure what you were trying to accomplish with this message, anon. Should I pack up my words and keyboard and go home? See if it's too late to return my gaming PC because I can't take screenshots of Mitch anymore? Whatever your goal was, you pushed me to write the smuttiest pussy eating smut I could imagine. You know who wins today? - I do, because I wrote a shitload of words in one day and finished a piece that didn't even exist 8hrs ago - people who want more Fem V/Mitch content do - my meat husband does bc damn, I wrote 1800 words of smut today - not you

PKD is claiming that my description of smut I wrote about my ship is trans/homophobic.

The description of the smut I wrote about a cis bisexual female (Val) whose pussy was eaten by her cis bisexual male partner (Mitch). 

The smut I wrote about my ship, in which no one is trans or gay. 

You cannot apply the lens of PKD’s ship and characters to my writing and call it transphobic or homophobic. That’s not how literary analysis works. That’s not how social justice works.

The truth is that PKD and his mutuals/friends used his ship and beliefs to harass me. 

If that were me and it were my beliefs being used to harass someone on anon, I would demand whoever it was to stop immediately, not only because harassing people over fictional characters is awful and wrong, but good lord, to use me as the excuse? I would be mortified! Instead, PKD and his mutuals/followers used it as evidence of my being a bad person, and after several months of that, I borrowed Silvay’s courage when he posted on Twitter, and shared my own experience.

Now that we have the full background, let’s move on to recent drama and address the Flat Chest body and the wearable pecs mod, and what part I played in the process and when. This next part is for motherherbivore. I wish you had talked to me first. I thought I’d rate high enough for a DM. 

A Brief History of The Flat Chest Body Under Curation of Wash

I reached out to Na in March about helping update the Flat Chest body. I specifically wanted to update it to dynamic to take advantage of AXL’s dynamic clothing and, more importantly to me, reduce the number of clothing overrides I had to install for Hilary; plus I wanted to add toggle feet so I could have better options for shoes. Also I had another OC I’d been kicking around in my head, Grem, that I wanted to make using the flat chest. Grem did debut recently, but he changed drastically from my original vision for him.

Sharing the news with Kitty (shared with permission)

I started working on updating the mod in April but got stuck because I didn’t understand resource patching, even though I was sure it would be easy. :hidethepain: I tried adding the feet too, but everything I did resulted in a seam at the calves. As is all too common with my ADHD, I moved onto something else after getting stuck.

As I mentioned I was interested in dynamic AXL, and wanted to update my custom tee framework for Pride. With dynamic AXL, someone could generate all colors with all logos at once! (220, do not try this at home!) I included the dynamic version of the Flat Chest mesh in the upload to Nexus, even though the Flat Chest body wasn’t ready yet, but as a goal for me to also have it done in June.

I had the UV version working in early June, before the Angel body came out. I don’t remember if we already knew about the body’s existence at that point, but the community outcry against yet another unrealistic and fetishistic body mod sustained me in updating a mod that appealed to a small subset of fandom.

The message I sent to Na the morning I got it working

I got the UV version working first, since that’s what Hilary uses, then took a look at toggle feet again. After further investigation using both UV and VTK bodies, I realized there would always be a seam because the bodies were drastically different from the current body; they were completely different meshes underneath, and the seams would never line up properly. 

At that point I decided to release the functioning dynamic version without toggle feet, as I wanted to get it out for Pride. I reached out to mhb to test, as had always been my intention. For me Sanctuary is the most iconic OC to use the Flat Chest. After some technical difficulties I figured out that she used the vanilla version, and came back a few days later with a functioning vanilla version. I released my update once I had assembled the necessary files and pics from the testers, mhb included.

Later when PKD released the refits for his pecs, someone commented that the vanilla refits worked for the Flat Chest body. That’s been my only interest in his pecs mod — because people who use the Flat Chest were interested in having more clothing options. The release of the so-called “Flat Chest Detector” meant that Flat Chest body users wouldn’t be able to use the clothing refit for his wearable pecs, because it required using his pecs, which clipped with tattoos and cyberware — as is expected because it’s not a body mod, as he himself said on the mod page.

As the representative for the Flat Chest body, I agreed when streetkid-named-desire (Rat) asked me to be involved in the conversation with Berdagon about adapting their “Flat Chest” detector to recognize the Flat Chest body. Rat drove this conversation. I don’t say this to dump responsibility on them. In fact, I visited them last weekend and we talked through the situation. I suggested to Rat that I could have urged them to slow down, but they refused to let me take that responsibility, and at the end of the day they’re right — I can only control my own actions.

I do have one regret and one opportunity where I could have acted differently: when Rat asked Berdagon about the original script, Rat very explicitly asked whether the script was commissioned by PKD, and if so, Rat stated they were willing to pay to make changes; Berdagon never answered the question, and I wish I had pushed for an answer. Perhaps that could have prevented the entire situation; we could have stopped right then. While Berdagon never mentioned payment, Rat was so excited by how quickly they implemented the requested changes that they tipped them for the work.

Berdagon, the original script writer, owed PKD the responsibility to check in before modifying something that PKD paid for. Yes, Berdagon does have responsibility here as a professional who took money for a commission. When they didn’t answer the question, I could have stopped the process and pushed for an answer. I would have stopped things immediately upon hearing the answer that the script had been commissioned by PKD. PKD could still have been outraged at Rat asking for changes, but there wouldn’t have been fandom-wide drama about a body that only a dozen people use.

That’s the responsibility I will take — I, as a professional who works with consultants and freelancers, could have taken steps to ensure that everyone was acting professionally, including the person who received money twice to work on the same script.

Because I feel the need to be thorough in my explanation, here’s a simplified timeline of the release of the Flat Chest mod compared to the wearable pecs:

Late March - I receive files from Na for Flat Chest

April - I get stuck, stop working on it

April-May - I figure out dynamic AXL and convert tee framework

June 3 - I have a working dynamic UV Flat Chest

In response to outcry over the Angel body, PKD makes a poll asking what body types people want refits for and excludes Flat Chest body as an option

In response to people commenting over why Flat Chest wasn’t included, PKD explains he won’t support the body and that he would support a different Flat Chest body if someone made it

June 10 - I share the UV version for testing with several people. Two of those people, including mhb, use vanilla. I didn’t realize that, and because I didn’t name the file `UV` it took a long time to troubleshoot why things weren’t working

PKD releases the pecs

I share vanilla for testing

I post Flat Chest 2.0 before the end of June

I didn’t use you, mhb. I asked you to test because, like I said above and on Nexus, Sanctuary is the Flat Chest character for me. I asked you to test because I make mods for my friends first and foremost, and I thought you were my friend. I thought you were my friend because we’d known each other for several years now, and because of shared experiences and conversations we’ve had. I’ve been wrong before about who is a friend, and this one stings a lot.

I’m tired. I am 30 or 40 (or 50) years old and I do not need this. I have a career and a job I love, and an amazing partner who I’ve been with for a third of my life now. I have friends and hobbies in meatspace and friends who share those hobbies, and the real truth is, if I was actually trans/homophobic, well, that number would be tiny, but it’s not. I have a life that I love and that is full of joy. Most people in fandom only know the smallest fraction of the real wash, and I do not take pleasure in being targeted in a public fandom “feud”.

PKD, I say this with all the kindness I can muster for another human being who is clearly hurting: please get help. Go to therapy or see a psychiatrist or use whatever tools you can access. This obsession you have with me and my ship is not healthy for you, and your repeated pattern of bullying has hurt me and people close to me, just as your need to rehash old fandom drama hurts the community.

[luckykiwiii101]

Okay this is outrageously easy. The way I overcomplicated everything is ummm embarrassing but we move…

So I just really thought and took in that I don't have to put anything on a pedestal and tire myself out I should just stick to that “idc” mindset I have. I was manifesting waking up in the void since I wanted to experience it (and probably manifest my dream life through it) and I was like it's literally nothing, not that deep. Before I would affirm and vaunt many times, visualise and I’d experience that feeling of fulfilment and knowing multiple times until it felt natural. Then yesterday I basically just left it all alone since I already did everything (even when I didn't have to) so it's basically inevitable for me to get what i want, there’s no point in doing anything more now (also methods made me feel like i was struggling to “get” and i didn’t like that). Anyway last night I woke up in the void (by literally falling asleep normally) and I didn't even freak out or anything I was just like "hm okay". I affirmed that I manifest things I want extremely fast and I wake up in the void every night, after I just chilled there for a bit.

I came across this post on how to make your desires feel natural to you i forgot who it was and I honestly can’t be asked finding it but it said to think of it this way. Let’s say many people want a certain feature you have like your eye colour or hair type/texture and they really want it, they even get hella excited or happy thinking about having it. But when you actually take the time to think about that feature you don't even give much of a reaction like you don't care as much that's cus you already have it, it's always been yours. I know I'm repeating what everyone has said and that's because that's literally all there is to say honestly. So being on tumblr scavenging for answers isn't doing anything really. everyone will just repeat the same thing but phrased differently to help people understand better and some people will get mad about them repeating themselves like….. yeah..? that's basically the answer to all your questions.

You think you’re “waiting” to “get” your desires but like it’s the other way round, your desires are waiting for you to wake up and accept that they’re already yours

So it's all just crickets and tumbleweed, if you're just sitting there questioning why you, apparently, don't have your desires. Imagine your desires are just awkwardly watching you ignoring the fact that you already have them and they’re right there in front of you. They’re probably just looking to the left and right, scratching their head. it's especially awkward when you're looking at the 3D for answers when it's literally useless and doesn't do shit, it only reflects old circumstances. That can only change when you turn to yourself or the 4D for answers, and of course any method will help but then again it all comes down to you to decide if it works. If you "want" your desires don’t dismiss what it is that "gets" you them...idk how to phrase it but just start applying and persist it's honestly too easy.

Anyway enough from me, I'm finally deleting this app right after this. This was long sorry if it doesn't make sense but this is how I understood it. To summarise you're all that's left to"getting" your desires. Think of it as having a breakdown over not being able to find your glasses or hair tie but turns out you're wearing it the entire time.

Thank you Wii and all the other bloggers who take the time out of their day to help others with all of this. Take care of yourselves!!

THIS IS AMAZING!!! I’m SO proud of you!! SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY APPLIED WHAT THEY KNEW AND NOW LOOK AT THEM!! you deserve this so much honestly i’m beyond happy for you!

Also i REALLY love the way you put yourself on the pedestal by saying that your desires are waiting for YOU and not the other way round.

[iznaekkoya]

secrets ~ bang jeemin

1111 words, rated G

tags: friends to lovers, secret pining, happy ending

You and Jeemin, for all the many years you’ve been friends, are still allowed your personal secrets. This isn’t the movies––you don’t have to tell each other absolutely everything, and having secrets isn’t inherently harmful.

Like when you had that hipster blog in middle school where you painstakingly curated a feed of girls in cozy flannels or denim, pictures of beautifully arranged cups of coffee and tea, of tastefully blurry sunflowers with four or five different filters layered on top of each other. Jeemin could never––can never––know about it, because you’d never hear the end of it. She would probably think it’s a cute relic of the past, but then every artisanal coffee shop and infinity scarf you see will come with a pinch on the cheek and a reminder of something you’d like to stay dead and buried, thank you. Fall time would be miserable.

Or that time that you almost crashed your mom’s car trying to drive to the store in the middle of the night before you got a license. Jeemin didn’t need to know where that ice cream came from, not when she looked so excited to suddenly have a pint of cookie dough.

All of this to say, secrets are normal. Healthy, even.

That’s what you’re telling yourself, anyway, since the thought of her figuring out your massive crush on her is life-shatteringly embarrassing.

“Y/N,” She hums, holding up two different blazers in the mirror. “Which of these two would you say is more business formal?”

Heat rushes to your face. “I don’t even know what that means. How is that different from regular business wear?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you might have a clue, because I was prepared to show up to the interview in that red dress with some kind of cardigan. I mean, I’m glad I saw their message about attire being business formal before I left, but now I feel like I’m overthinking it,” she huffs, dropping down into the desk chair behind her and rolling closer to where you sit on her bed.

The red dress looks amazing on her. You’d hate for a bunch of stuffy office workers to get to see it and not fully appreciate how radiant she looks in it, how that shade of red isn’t too orange or too blue, and how it brings out the warmth in her eyes. Not that you can say any of that.

Instead, you say, “Definitely not the red. Maybe just a blazer over some kind of collared shirt, and a pencil skirt? That’s how all the girls on Suits dress.”

Jeemin giggles into her hand. “Not sure if I should be taking fashion advice from the legal malpractice show.”

“Megan Markle looks so good in it, though.”

“Yeah, but I’m not trying to appeal to any workplace romance fantasies. Just want to do my job, get paid and leave.”

Thank God, you think, stewing with jealousy over just the thought of some random coworker making moves on her. You’re no stranger to watching people flirt with and date Jeemin over the years, and it’s never gotten any easier. Not when so many of them just liked her because she’s pretty, and didn’t take the time to get to know her as a person. Jeemin is so much more than just pretty, and you’re sick of people tossing her to the side once they realize the fantasy of her wasn’t enough to keep them interested. It drives you crazy.

“Y/N?” Jeemin asks, wheeling over and poking you in the thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” You can feel your cheeks reddening. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just thinking about you having workplace romance. I don’t think you’re the type, honestly.”

“You’re right. I’ve always preferred having a preexisting bond with my partners. Plus, it would be too much, having to see my girlfriend at work and at home. We’d never get a break from each other, it’d be exhausting.”

Are you hearing that right? Since when? Jeemin went on so many blind dates, used the dating apps more than any person you know for years––she only deleted them a few months ago, and that was just because of one too many bad dates. Where is this coming from?

“I didn’t know that,” is what you choose to say, after much deliberation. “I always thought you preferred to keep them separate.”

“Nah,” she says, desk chair spun so she can rest her elbows on the foot on the bed. Her forearm knocks into your thigh. “I’m over that. It took a while, but I realized I would only consider dating someone if they were a friend first.”

You chose a little bit at that. Through what you’re hoped are well-masked coughs, you fight to keep this little nugget of conversation going, hoping to prod further.

“Did something change your mind?”

Her gaze rakes down your body, sending chills up your spine. “Someone, yeah.”

Another cough wracks through you, this one unable to be concealed. You can only hope now that your face isn’t embarrassingly red. “Oh,” you say, through coughs. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she says, using your knees as an anchor as she slides the chair to be directly in front of you, leaning forward. Being on the bed, you have a lot of height on her, but it doesn’t matter. This is Bang Jeemin, her very existence can send you into a panic under the right circumstances. “Do you want to ask me who?”

“Do I?” you manage to spit out. You don’t know what to do with your hands.

“Don’t play dumb,” she says. Now she’s getting out of the chair to loom over you, which makes you infinitely more nervous. “Ask me who.”

“Uhh…” you say, dumbstruck. “Who?”

You know the answer. It feels like some kind of fever dream, but you’re not that obtuse.

Instead of an answer, you get a kiss. You’ve spent enough nights dreaming about it to know that her mouth would feel incredibly warm on yours, but her slightly chapped lips take you at first by surprise, but becomes what pulls you in more. The reality of it: the imperfection as you two find your rhythm, mouth gently gliding together like two slightly worn but connected puzzle pieces. It’s amazing, and it’s over too soon.

“You’re terrible at keeping a secret, y/n.” She cups a hand against your warm cheek, noticeably cool. “You always get so red.”

You just laugh, and bury your face in her tank top. “Shut up,” you say, not meaning it.

She hums for a moment, pretending to consider it.

“Make me.”