#i don’t really even know what i’m doing with this blog
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sc3ptre · 2 days ago
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Hii, I was wondering if I can request a Drew Starkey fic, were the reader and Drew Starkey do Truth or Drink interview together, like how Madelyn Cline and Madison Bailey did, and they’re baicly flirting the whole time and the chemistry is just so good, and yeah. I hope you have a great day!!!
Y/n Y/l/n and Drew Starkey play Truth or Drink
Pairing: Drew Starkey x fem!reader.
Masterlist | Who am i? | REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
A/n: Changed the blog's name a few days ago! Hope you guys stick around 🙂
Genre: suggestive fluff
Warnings: suggestive comments, flirting
Word count: 0.7k
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The rules were simple: ask your partner an uncomfortable question. They either answer it… or take a shot.
You were seated across from Drew with a tiny table between you both, cluttered with cards, shot glasses and just enough alcohol to make bad decisions feel fun.
“Alright,” the interviewer smiled off-camera. “First up, just for the people at home, who are you two and how do you know each other?”
Drew leaned forward, his smile already smug. “I’m Drew… Y/L/N.”
You rolled your eyes, grinning. “And I’m Y/N… Starkey, I guess.”
The crew laughed. Drew looked over at you, eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. “Y/N, care to answer the question?”
You turned to the camera with a grin. “Before we played enemies on Outer Banks, I actually crashed into his car on the way to the audition.”
“No way,” the interviewer said. “I thought that was a fan-made rumor.”
You both shook your heads. “I wish it was,” you laughed. “But hey…great icebreaker. Also, great way to get someone’s number. Highly recommend.”
“Don’t say that,” Drew groaned, laughing. “Car crash statistics are gonna spike next week.”
You giggled as he reached for the first card. “Alright, Y/N,” he said, holding it up like a threat. “Might wanna fill that glass.”
You groaned, pouring your shot. “Here we go…”
Drew smirked. “What’s something I do that annoys you?”
You paused. “We’ve lived together.”
He added quickly, “With other castmates too.”
Your eyes met his, thankful for the quick assist. “Yeah, during the pandemic. So I know his darkest secrets, like, blackmail worth material,” you teased, looking toward the crew. “Is this PG-13 or…?”
“As clean as you can keep it,” the producer said.
“Right.” You took the shot. The crew erupted with laughter.
“That bad?” Drew asked, amused with his eyes a little wide.
It was a mix of things, really. He used to narrate his scenes in his sleep which was terrifying but quickly became comforting and he also had a habit of singing off-key very early in the morning which made you want to smother him with a pillow but now, it was your favorite kind of concert before breakfast, even better when it was a duet. Then, when you became a couple, it was the moaning while eating food you cooked, the walking around half naked when your A/C broke and the dirty talk he didn’t realize he was doing, muttering “Fuck, you look hot” even when doing mundane things, all things making you horny 24/7.
You gave a coy shrug. “I’ve grown to love it, I swear but some stuff just isn’t for the internet. I’m protecting your legacy, Starkey… even if I do love seeing you in the mornings.”
He smirked. “You love seeing me all the time, admit it.”
“I plead the fifth.” You reached for a card. “Okay. Who would you want to be stranded on a deserted island with?”
Drew didn’t hesitate. “I’d say Chase… but we’d be dead in a day and a half, he doesn’t like to cuddle and he’s mean when he’s hungry.”
You snorted. “He refuses to cuddle?”
“He does, so I’m picking you.”
“Of course.” You grinned. “You ever seen The Blue Lagoon?”
His eyes darkened slightly and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That one shot got to your head quick.”
“About time for a remake, don't you think?” you teased. “It’s a classic. Sand, sun, morally confusing tension…”
“Sounds familiar,” he mumbled, eyes locked on yours.
“Yes, it does…let’s see,” You looked away, cheeks hot and grabbed another card but Drew beat you to it. 
“If someone wanted to date me, what would you warn them about?”
You turned toward the camera. “Well… he’s a big guy…he eats a lot.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Eats a lot?”
You smirked. “Like… a starved man, especially certain… things.”
The crew howled with laughter. Drew leaned back in his chair, grinning wide. “What kind of things, Y/n?” he asked innocently.
You made a show of thinking. “Mmmm…tacos?”
More laughter erupted while Drew filled your shot glass and his. “Good save but for that one we’ll drink together.”
“Cheers to tacos,” you said, clinking glasses, both knocking them back in unison.
When the round wrapped up, the producer leaned in. “Final thoughts, what was it like playing Truth or Drink together?”
“Great for me,” Drew said, shooting you a look. “Y/n?”
You giggled, cheeks flushed and eyes warm. “I think we need a ride home but I had a really good time,” you added, looking at Drew with a smile that didn’t need translating.
He smiled back. “Yeah. Me too…in the mood for some tacos?”
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bloodandiron-if · 1 day ago
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I'm saying this out of goodwill because your IF looks promising. Why are you already entertaining and making RO asks and reactions when you haven't posted at least the prologue or chapter 1? The majority of the IF WIPs I see are kinda like this, and they end up getting abandoned because the author is either burnt out or they put up a Patreon and scam people because that's how most authors earn money from making these games usually, not from the actual finished game (minus the scam part). I'm not saying this is how this IF will end up. I really hope you finish this but so far, I wouldn’t dare give myself high expectations when the author is constantly pleasing people online by writing hundreds of words in multiple ro asks when they could've been putting this attention into writing and coding. It's already a red flag that you put up an announcement without a demo. This isn't an anti-author post, I really want to see this succeed. I'm just worried about the outcome as I've seen this pattern multiple times already.
Hey anon.
I know you didn’t mean anything bad by this, and I appreciate that you’re looking out for the project. But I’ll be honest with you... this kind of message really killed my mood a bit.
I’m doing all of this—the character asks, the fun scenarios, the info dumps—not to waste time, but to build an audience who genuinely connects with the world and characters I’m creating. 
I want people to know what to expect from my writing, how I approach character voice and emotion, and what kind of tone the story will carry when it comes out. That’s not filler. That’s world building, connection, and engagement. And I’ve seen many amazing IF authors do the same. I’ve always wanted to be a part of that—so I’m doing it. Genuinely. In good faith.
I really hate being compared to other people or “grouped” just because I’m doing something I love. It’s discouraging. It makes me feel like I can’t be excited about my work without being seen as a "red flag" apparently. And that suckssss.
Also, I wouldn’t even consider launching a Patreon until the prologue and chapter 1 are complete—and even then, I’d still be posting public content on this blog. I don’t believe in charging people without putting in the work, so until then no "scamming" will happen.
And the truth is: coding burns me out. Writing doesn’t. So answering asks is my way of staying in the creative zone when I’m away from my computer (which is often, especially when I’m at work). It keeps me engaged. Keeps the fire lit—and doesn’t mean I’m not working on the game. Please don't assume.
I know the patterns you’re talking about. I’ve seen them too. But I’m not like other authors. I’m not trying to get hype for nothing, and if I ever disappear from this blog, then that means I’m dead. Like—seriously, gone.
So while I hear your concern, please know that I’m not here to please for the sake of attention. I’m truly building something I care deeply about—and I’m going to see it through till the end even if it takes a couple of years or so.
Thanks for the message, even if it stung a bit. Just next time, maybe… trust that some of us have actual faith in the future of our IF's. 🖤🩸
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linklethehistorian · 1 day ago
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Okay fine. I’m not usually one of those “notes things” creators myself, but since peer pressure and a sense of deep obligation to keeping my word is probably the only thing that’s going to work at this point…
Notes Thing™️ to Finally Bully Myself into Talking About My Ship*
*Except I’m sitting like a deer in the headlights while typing this up, so the required note count will be probably unreasonably high. Sorry. I feel like it’s the only way I’ll get myself to take the situation seriously.
Rules:
Maximum of 10 notes per blog (including reblog, comments, and likes)
Using side blogs to further boost the note count is permitted, but I ask that any given user not exceed 20 notes total. Obviously I can’t tell if a given blog is your side blog or not so we’re going off the honor system here.
Yes, Systems will have their individual members recognized as separate people rather than counting them by their physical body. I see you and I love you. 💖 You can break the 10 notes per blog rules if multiple of you want to participate because you’re separate people.
Please be nice to me; this is my first time doing this sort of thing and I am scared. Also no ship shaming. Obviously.
Note Milestones:
20 notes: I will post something relating to the ship. I don’t know what yet. It might be vague. It might not even reveal who the characters are. It might be a reveal of one of the characters but not the other. I don’t know. But it’ll be something. (Promise fulfilled. Link [here].)
35 notes: It’s a crossover ship, so I will reveal the fandoms involved and the characters in question. Maybe the ship name. We’ll see how bold I’m feeling. (Wow. Okay. Bear with me and I’ll make the posts and link the links after some sleep. You guys are really fast. 0-o)
50 notes: I will post one of the pieces of fanart I’ve made for the ship. No context. (Link TBD)
60 notes: I will reblog the pitch I once made about them from an obscure side blog. (Link TBD)
70 notes: I will talk about my Slay the Princess-themed AU for them. Maybe post some art. (Link TBD)
90 notes: I will post a snippet or excerpt of the oneshot fic I’m working on. (Link TBD)
100 notes: Idk p much everything is fair game at this point. I’ll stop being a coward and just talk openly about this stuff. (Link TBD)
120 notes: Maybe I’ll write a multi-chapter fic…? (Link TBD)
150 notes: Ultra secret surprise option.
I’ll cross off this list as we go along and update it with links included, so if you want to see if the reblog you’re finding this through is up to date, click [here].
I really don’t expect this to get much of any notes since there’s no reason for most people to be invested in this (which is lowkey the point, as feeling like this won’t happen is the only way I can get myself to do this), but yeah. I guess we’ll see where it goes.
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twopoppies · 1 day ago
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Hi Gina, I love your blog and you always seem to keep calm in moments of madness. That's probably because you have seen almost everything in the fandom in the past 10+ years.
I've read that Louis' recent actions have been a pattern in the past. He does something to win over the fandom and then the other shoe drops and he makes some comment that drives the fandom away.
I know he is closeted and I won't even pretend to understand how awful that has to be, but I can't help thinking that there would be a better way to handle his fans. I don't understand what good it does to cause fights and hatred between different fan groups.
I think if it weren't for L liking that Larry reel a couple of weeks ago, many more people would have left the fandom after last night's tweet.
Is there a point at which you personally would draw the line? Is there some action that Harry or Louis could take or comment they could make that would cause you to say enough is enough and leave the fandom?
For some reason a lot of people read my blog, so I really try to stay as neutral as I can manage. I don’t like calling attention to myself or making big, dramatic announcements. Most of all, I think everyone needs to find their own line in the sand.
Yes, this sort of push and pull has been happening for more than a decade. Sometimes it’s far worse than other times. But because I’ve been here for so long I’m just sick and tired of the gaslighting. I’m tired of being painted as a villain. I’m tired of not enjoying myself.
I know without a doubt they were a couple. I believe they still are. I hope they’re happy forever and have lots of babies. But I’m just here for music. I don’t care anymore if Louis blows up his entire fandom over Zara McDermott. I don’t care if Harry is dating 3574 women in Italy, Berlin, and on the moon.
Maybe something will happen that will renew my desire to support their relationship the way I have for a dozen years. But right now they don’t need me (and if they do, they have a completely fucked up way of showing it).
I just want some goddamn new music and a tour.
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ayyy-pee · 3 days ago
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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 3 - 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉
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Discord 18+ - Twitter - Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter
Pairing: Hotel Heir Satoru Gojo x Club Heiress Female Reader
Genre: Fake Dating/Arranged Marriage AU/Rivals to Lovers
WC: 5.2k
Summary: You meet Satoru for dinner to hear what he has to say. Will you strike a deal with the man you hate the most?
Story Warning: Forced Proximity, Fake Dating, Arranged Marriage, Profantity DUH, Gojo and Reader being fucking bratty and annoying, Slow Burn, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Smut Maybe?, No Y/N usage here
Art by: nameissiyo on X
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Never in a million years would you have expected you’d be sitting across the dinner table from Satoru Gojo, of all people, but here you are. 
Satoru’s lips are curled in the same cocky smile he’s always had since he was a teenager wreaking havoc at whatever event was thrown and it irritates you the same way it always has. The only difference now is that he’s not wearing it while avoiding business talk, he’s the one initiating it. You’re curious about what exactly he could want to speak to you about. You’re fairly certain it’s about this stupid marriage the two of you are meant to be entering.
You shiver at the unpleasant thought.
“Well?” You question, voice sharper than you meant it to be, but you’re pissed again! You don’t want to marry him. You really can’t stress that enough, but your father isn’t giving you a say in the matter. And the thought that you’ll probably end up sitting across the table from him every night for the rest of your life is so…
There really are no words.
Satoru leans back in his seat and you hate that you can see even more of his perfectly white teeth as his smile widens. “Put the claws away, Princess. I come in peace this time.”
This time…
Because every other time, he’s only ever been a pain in your ass. But if he’s willing to play nice right now, you suppose you can, too.
“I’m sure you’ve spoken with your father.” He begins, shaking his head with annoyance. “I know I’ve spoken to mine.”
“I have…”
“Good…good. Let's talk about this marriage, then.” He lifts two fingers, gesturing air quotes around the word marriage.
Still, your body responds with an eye twitch whenever that word leaves his lips. You wish it didn’t, but it’s almost like an automatic response at this point. You don’t think you could help it even if you tried. But you school your features anyway - like you’ve been trained to do - and nod in agreement.
Satoru laughs, loud and obnoxious, because he absolutely sees through you. You’re just grateful to be alone on the rooftop at this moment so that you can avoid grabbing any unnecessary attention from prying eyes. 
As far as the press knows, you have no public interactions and no relationship with Satoru Gojo. And as much as you’d like to keep it that way, you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re plastered across the front page of every gossip blog. So you’re grateful for the little bit of time alone until the two of you, and your families are able to figure out the next steps in this awkward and uncomfortable situation.
It’s a depressing thought, the union that’s awaiting you. You can’t picture a life tied to Satoru. You don’t want to picture a life by his side. The image of looping your arm with your father’s while Satoru is waiting at the end of a rose petal covered aisle as a harpist plucks the strings of their instrument beautifully gives you a throbbing migraine and makes you nauseous.
To spend the rest of your life tethered to this man means you’ll be stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of your days.
You’re going to throw up.
The waiter returns - just in time - and sets down an expensive glass of wine which you quickly grab and take a large gulp of. Your finger taps rapidly against the glass, nodding as you set your drink down on the table. “Mmm, this is great. Can I actually get a bottle of this? Please?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
The smug look on Satoru’s face makes your stomach churn again, and you down another mouthful.
“Should I be concerned about all the drinking?” He asks teasingly, head tilting to the side. “Dad didn’t mention you being an alcoholic.”
You sputter into your glass, coughing on the liquid, and you set down your wine with more force than necessary. “E-excuse me? I’m not!”
The nerve of this guy!
Satoru’s eyes narrow, as if he doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t tease you any further. He simply huffs a tiny laugh before he leans over to the side of his chair. He reaches down, ruffling through what you presume is a bag beside his seat, then slams a stack of papers down on the table.
You feel the crease settle between your brows as you eye at the mountain in front of him. “What’s all this?”
“Ah, we’ll get to that in a second.” He waves his hand in the air, leaning forward to set his elbows on the table, and it takes more effort than you’d like to admit to keep yourself from making a snide comment at the complete lack of table manners.
“Let me ask you something,” Satoru begins. “I’m sure by now you’ve spoken with your dad and know what our families are expecting from us.”
You nod.
“And I’m assuming you feel the exact same way I do about the entire thing?”
“Hmm…Not interested?”
“Exactly.”
This may be the only thing the two of you agree on. For some reason, that gives you just a bit of relief. Very little, but it’s something. 
“Look, I’m not any happier about this arrangement than you are.” There’s no joking tone behind Satoru’s words now. No teasing lilt. No pun to follow. This is the most serious you’ve ever seen him. “I don’t wanna be married to you any more than I’m sure you wanna be married to me…” He trails off for a second, pausing to assess your reaction. And he’s met with a deadpan look, the confirmation he needed to be sure that you are truly not interested loud and clear in your eyes. He proceeds. “I really couldn’t give a shit about the whole merger if I’m being honest. But dad will kill me if I fuck this up for him, and this time I believe he’ll actually kill me. I think this whole thing will be beneficial to us both in the long run, though. So, I think I have a proposition that may work here. ”
So this is business. You get it. Satoru is meant to take over his family’s entire company one day. You imagine he’s under immense pressure every day of his life because of this. Which is all the more reason why you find Satoru so insufferable. His father is practically handing him the role of owner and CEO of a company started by and kept within his family for over a century. And yet, he has gone out of his way time and time again to try and ruin that.
You? Up until now, your dad had never tried to pressure you too much to do anything for the company aside from show up to events and be the pretty face to represent him in his absence. There are no decisions coming from you, no input taken from you. You’re simply a warm body that may as well have Club Echo stamped on the center of your forehead. 
The moment you’re spotted at an event in place of your dad, you’re immediately swarmed by smarmy businessmen who only see you as some sort of gateway to your father. 
It never works out for them because you were raised for this, and despite the short skirts and high heels that make those sexist old pigs think you’re some sort of easy bimbo, you’re a lot smarter than you look. You can’t really blame them, you suppose. The tabloids don’t help with the way they make you out to be some party girl with no goals or actual aspirations in life, and maybe that’s what your father believes to an extent as well. You don’t put your brains to work, opting for partying rather than board meetings. But why would you subject yourself to that when you have the freedom of seeing things firsthand? 
Besides, a little more digging, and maybe a little more interest in you in general, and your father would know that you’re far more interested in the business side of things than you let on.
Your father hasn’t stepped foot in a Club Echo location since you were a child. You, however…You’re in these clubs almost nightly seeing what works and what doesn’t. 
The promotional bottle not selling the night you’re there? Of course you’d advise to swap it out for something much better, and maybe even go take a round of shots with whoever orders one. Tables not booked for the night? It’s no problem for you to invite one of your celebrity friends out - with the promise of free drinks - and have the official social media account for the location post photos of them showing up. The place is packed, and the problem is solved.
You actually do plenty behind the scenes, and you enjoy it. But, your father doesn’t know any of this. And it’s likely he wouldn’t believe you if you told him.
If things were up to you, your father would have given you the opportunity to show that you could do more, bring more to the table, show him what you’re made of many years ago. He would have trusted you to be more than his substitute secretary. All those years of sitting in on company meetings, being brought up and trained to eat, sleep and breathe corporate talk only for your father to never ask you to do anything that mattered. Only for him to shut you down when you asked to do more.
Maybe it’s your own fault, actually. You didn’t exactly leave a good impression with those in the upper class after your mishap with Satoru all those years ago. That definitely contributed to your father’s lack of trust in you. Not to mention, you’ve done and still do a lot of stupid things, make a lot of impulsive and dumb decisions. 
And perhaps all of those decisions were your own way of punishing your father. And now he’s turning the tables and punishing you, making you actually prove yourself to show him that you deserve a seat at the table.
You should be ecstatic. Isn’t this what you wanted? The chance to prove yourself, to be trusted enough to do more?
Well, not in this way, but it may be the only chance you’re given. So you decide to hear Satoru out.
“Okay?” Your voice comes out quietly, hesitantly. And Satoru pushes the pile of pages over to you. Your eyes scan the top of the paper, brows rising in surprise.
Marriage Contract
The fat letters stand out, and you glance back up at Satoru to find the corners of his lips curled upwards. His stupid grin sends shivers down your spine, so you avert your gaze back to the paper, reading the first sentence aloud.
“This Marriage Contract is made this (month) day of (day), (year), between Gojo Satoru ("First Party") and ____ ("Second Party").”
Your eyes find Satoru’s again when you meet his steady gaze.
“A marriage contract?” You muse. “Like…a prenup?” You thumb through the pages, skimming.
Satoru shakes his head. “Nope, not at all. That’ll be a separate thing between us and our lawyers.” He grimaces when he adds on with a dramatic eye roll, “And probably our fathers.”
You mirror the gesture, because you already know that conversation will be as annoying as your current one. “A contract between just us.” The words feel heavy on your tongue. You’re striking a business deal here, all on your own. It’s an intimidating feeling.
“Right. Listen,” Satoru leans back in his seat, running his fingers through his hair. “No offense, but I have no interest in you being my wife. Not seriously, at least.”
You scoff. “Likewise.”
“Well, yeah. I don’t want to be your wife either,” Satoru jokes, but again, he’s met with a deadpan stare from you when it lands flat. “Anywayyyy”, he sings. “I like my freedom. I don’t really love the idea of someone tying me down so I can’t enjoy the fruits of my family's labor.”
“Agreed.”
“Great. Then, I think this contract will be a good way to set some ground rules, make our parents happy and still allow us to actually enjoy married life.”
Your whole face contorts in a way that Satoru’s eyes widen. “Wait, I mean – not enjoying married life together! Just in general!” He stammers, lifting his hands and waving them a little frantically in front of him. “Basically, we’ll be married only for show. We show up to the big parties together as a united front, hold hands and smile, flash our wedding rings and go. The moment we’re behind closed doors, you’re free to do your own thing and I’m free to do mine.”
It’s hard to keep your lips from twisting into a frown as understanding settles in. A lifetime of maintaining a facade essentially. That’s what he’s proposing to you, all that he can offer that will make this arrangement somewhat enjoyable. Not that you’re particularly interested in loving Satoru, but the notion of spending your life pretending to love the person you’re married to is so depressing.
Your fingers dig into your temples, rubbing tight circles. “This is annoying. I can’t believe this is going to be the rest of my life.”
Satoru chuckles. “If all goes according to plan, it’ll just be for a year. Two max.”
You pause your motions, glancing across the table where the corners of your new potential business partner’s mouth quirks up. “Huh?”
“It’s simple,” Satoru claims. “We play along with our father’s plan and go through with all this. The first year will probably be wedding planning or whatever. I’ll leave that to you.” He points in your direction lazily, because he couldn’t give a shit about any of that. “We’ll have the big lavish wedding, the white gown and honeymoon. We’ll let them invite every media outlet too…really play up the happy husband and wife schtick until the merger goes through.”
You’re following him so far.
“That’s probably year one,” Satoru continues. “Year two, we’ll start dropping little hints that we’re not happy. Maybe make a couple of appearances solo, then announce that it just…didn’t work out between us.” He shrugs as though it really is that simple. 
You guess if you had to admire one thing - and you truly mean one thing - about Satoru, it was how little he cared about things. You wish you didn’t care so much about what others thought about you. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Maybe it really would be as simple as Satoru makes it seem.
“You and I both get off without a scratch on us. Everything works out for us both in the end. My parents are off my back. Your dad is off yours, and they both get what they want. It’s a win-win to me! What do you think?” Satoru completes his proposal, leaning back in his seat, confident as ever as he picks at his fingernails.
Disgusting. 
Your head throbs again. You can’t trust this guy as far as you can throw him, and you know that’s not far. The man’s like ten feet taller than you even with your highest heels on! But what choice do you have in the matter? You have to do this. 
“Okay? So the contract –”
“More like a set of rules between us,” Satoru elaborates. “Just to make sure we don’t step on each other’s toes.”
A dry chuckle pushes past your lips. “Yeah because you’re so good at not stepping on my toes,” you grumble under your breath. 
Across the table, Satoru bursts into a fit of giggles. “Are we still on this? You know…my hair still doesn’t grow back right in that spot.” He pouts, fluttering his snowy white lashes in your direction like that has any effect on you.
“Good.” 
Your eyes travel back down to the stack of papers, fingers grazing over the ink. You don’t know what’s in here, but it may be what makes this arrangement just a bit more bearable for you. Might as well look it over.
“Feel free to go through it. Make amendments. Whatever you want,” Satoru offers.
It’s perfect timing that the waiter returns with your bottle of wine. They pop it open, filling your glass again before setting the bottle down. You both thank them, letting them know that no food would be ordered, and that you’d like to be left alone for the next hour.
“No funny business,” you demand, eyes narrowed at Satoru when the waiter takes their leave again. You mean it to come out more as a question, but the rise of your partner’s brows lets you know he’s aware you’re not fucking around with this. 
And then his head falls back, a loud laugh bursting from his chest. He’s enjoying this far too much for someone who has everything on the line here, just like you.
“None at all, Princess.” You ignore the pet name he’s used to address you since you were teens, rolling your eyes. It’s a promise that you’re not sure he’ll be able to keep. But again, you just have to trust him.
“You have a deal,” you finally agree. 
He leans forward, his elbows resting on the table, and you can’t help but to sneer in disgust at his clear lack of manners. How could someone raised in high society, the same as you, act in such a way? You wish you could wipe that cheshire cat-like smirk off of his face, but you keep it cordial. You can’t enter into this with bad blood already on your hands. This arrangement will benefit you both at the end of the day. You just have to remember that.
‘One year,’ you tell yourself. ‘Two tops, and you never have to see this man again. This will be easy.’
He reaches into his shirt pocket, pulling out an obnoxiously expensive pen, the signature Gojo Hospitality name written in a fancy gold font along the body. He sets it down in front of you, on top of the stack of papers you’ve spent the last two hours tearing apart meticulously, marking out anything you don’t agree with. He’d nagged endlessly about how long this was taking, like he had anywhere more important to get to. 
You’re sure he took you for some bimbo ready to jump at the chance to marry the only son and heir to the Gojo fortune. But you’re not an idiot. You’re an heiress yourself, so he doesn’t impress you. And your father raised you to know that when entering a contract, it’s important to read the fine print. It’s important to find any loopholes, anything that can screw you in the end, anything that can make your life hell on the off chance things don’t work out. Make sure you’ve crossed all your t’s and dotted all your i’s.
But you don’t see any here, you don’t think. So you reach forward, taking his pen in hand.
“On the dotted line, then,” he instructs. “Sign away…future Mrs. Gojo.”
“...Let's go through the contract first.” You take Satoru’s pen, flipping the page. 
- - - - - - - - -
Recitals:
The Parties, intending to enter into a lawful union under no choice of their own, wish to define and govern their rights and duties both during and potentially after their marriage. Neither party intends to define this marriage as true. This contract is made to ensure clarity, fairness, and mutual respect across all aspects of their shared life.
Agreement:
1. Introduction and Purpose
This document sets forth an agreement that reflects our commitment, understanding, and intentions towards our faux marriage and each other, laying the groundwork for our shared life and how we choose to manage it, both publicly and privately.
Okay. Simple enough.
2. Mutual Respect 
Both Parties agree that in order to maintain the image of a peaceful and happy union to the outside world, they will treat each other with mutual respect and support throughout the course of this faux marriage. This includes the following:
Prioritizing family and business events over personal activities.
Providing emotional support for one another.
Maintaining complete and total honesty with each other.
Respecting the other party’s need for time either alone, with partner(s) or time spent pursuing personal interests and hobbies.
This section ensures that both parties are committed to maintaining a positive and supportive relationship based on mutual respect.Your gaze hovers on that last line.
“Hold on. With partners? Plural?” You question, dragging your pen along the second point and scratching it out dramatically. There’s no need for either you or Satoru to be providing emotional support to one another. That’s what friends – and your therapists – are for, and you are neither. Satoru hums, leaning forward to see where you’ve paused. “Hmm? Oh. Well, I mean. Like I said…you’ll have your own life and I’ll have mine. If you want to see someone, or you’re already seeing someone–” he trails off, eyes assessing you, and you raise a questioning brow. If he’s waiting for you to confirm whether or not you have someone else you may be romantically involved with, he’s out of luck. That’s none of his business.
He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before he presses his thumb hard to the crease forming between his eyebrows and massaging. “Listen. It’s what? Point three?” He opens one eye and peeks down at the paper, bringing a finger down to the line he’s referring to. 
Maintaining complete and total honesty with each other.
“If you’re seeing someone else, I’ll need to know. It doesn’t have to be today, but definitely before we proceed with anything. Not because I’m the jealous type or whatever, but because we’ll need to make this marriage work around all that.”
“And you?”
“Same for me. If I’m seeing someone, you’ll know. Just make sure not to get pissed about it.” Satoru winks, and you try not to gag.
But, this makes sense to you. The two of you won’t actually be romantically or physically involved, which means you’ll be free to do whatever with whoever.
So you nod, understanding.
3. Relocation Agreement
Both parties agree to cohabitate in the same home until the completion of the merger between Gojo Hospitality and Club Echo and all marital obligations are fulfilled.
This one makes your head hurt, but you unfortunately can’t do anything about it.
“I have a high rise apartment in the city with plenty of space,” Satoru boasts, as if you don’t have one yourself. “It’s huge. We’ll probably never even see each other.”
It does little to quell the pain, but it’s something. You move forward.
4. Management of Financial ResourcesBoth Parties agree to share financial responsibilities in a manner that reflects their mutual understanding and financial stability. This includes:
Joint Expenses: Both parties will contribute to household expenses such as rent/mortgage, utilities, groceries, and other shared financial obligations.
You eye Satoru at this point. “Joint expenses?” He waves his hand, like it doesn’t matter. “Our lawyers will set that up, but it’s for show. You know…united front and all that shit. I don’t need your money, but I do need your bank on that account as Mrs. Gojo.” That makes sense to you, you suppose. As fucked up as it is, your fathers are businessmen. They want to see where their money is going and likely keep track of both of your finances. It would be a little suspicious to both of your fathers if you paid separate bills in a home you share.
5. Fidelity and Trust (Not Finance Related)
‘Seriously?’ He’s really talking about fidelity right after saying you both were free to see other people? The Parties commit to understanding that both parties are free to maintain extramarital relationships with others throughout the duration of their faux marriage. They understand that trust is the foundation of their relationship and agree to maintain honesty and transparency in all aspects of their lives.
The Parties agree to be honest and transparent of their whereabouts and who they are with at all times. 
Extramarital partners are not to attend events where The Parties are expected to attend as a union.
Extramarital partners are not under any circumstances allowed to sleep over in the unit shared by the married party.
The Parties agree to not let personal feelings interfere with this agreement (i.e. jealousy)
6. Physical Intimacy
You might throw up.
The Parties agree that any and all physical intimacy will be restricted to public appearances. No physical intimacy may take place outside of this.
Physical intimacy includes the following:
Hand holding
Kisses to the cheeks, hands (knuckles), lips (only when required)
A hand to the waist, small of back, arms
The thought of Satoru’s hands on you makes you recoil. You hear him snickering loudly when you set your pen down and reach for your drink. You swallow a large swig of your wine, then scribble in an addition to the list.
Hugging
His laughs stop just then. He squints, reading your chicken scratch that you’d hurriedly written in. “Hugs?”
His eyes are practically glowing with amusement, and you hide your burning cheeks behind another rather large sip of your beverage.
“Didn’t take you for the loving embrace type.” He’s beaming like he’s excited because just discovered something completely new about you. And you suppose that to him, it is new.
You set your glass down, ignoring the way Satoru is watching you a little more intently now and opting to resume your review of the rules. “I only hug people I like.” It’s supposed to come out pointed, but there’s an embarrassing tremble to your voice now. You feel like an idiot telling Satoru this. “And my dad would be suspicious if I didn’t hug you. I’m…” you swallow the bitter taste forming on your tongue. “I’m pretty affectionate when I’m in a relationship.”
His slender fingers skim along his jawline, eyes watching you as though you’ve grown an extra head.
“Noted,” is thankfully all he says.
7. Public Appearances
The Parties agree to attend any and all necessary events that could contribute to maintain the appearance of a happy marriage.
8. Employment and Career Support
Each party commits to supporting the other's employment and career aspirations, understanding that sacrifices and compromises may be necessary for mutual growth and long-term future.
9. Child Rearing
‘Child what?!’ Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You read on.
The Party agrees to avoid becoming impregnated by their extramarital partner for the duration of the faux marriage.
He can’t be referring to you. 
You tap your pen on the first point, a rhythmic drumming of annoyance filling the space between you and Satoru. Your nose crinkles when you speak, “Why exactly am I the only one referenced here?”
Satoru eyes where your pen points. Then he shrugs after reading. “I’m always careful. I don’t know about you, though.”
Your mouth falls open with a scandalized squeak. “Excuse you! I’m not just going around spreading my legs without protection. If anything, with the way you get around, this should be directed towards you and you alone!”
This amuses Satoru, his already brightly bright eyes filling to the brim with mirth. “Aww, Princess. You’re already keeping tabs on me? And acting like a jealous wife?” He smacks his lips disapprovingly. “Already breaking rule number 5.”
“As if I’d ever be jealous of anyone who hates themself enough to sleep with you.” You quickly cross out the old point, replacing it with a revised version.
The Party agrees to avoid becoming impregnated by their extramarital partner for the duration of the faux marriage.
The Party agrees to avoid conceiving children with their extramarital partner(s) for the duration of this faux marriage.
In the event that a pregnancy occurs through either party, this contract is null and void.
“Feel better now?” Satoru breathes. His arm is propped on the table again, chin resting in his palm as he studies you.
You ignore him, moving on to the rest of the contract.
10. Conflict Resolution
The Parties commit to resolving disagreements through constructive communication, counseling, or other resolutions.
The Parties will not resort to hair-pulling to get their point across.
This makes you giggle. That bald spot must haunt Satoru in his sleep. That brings you so much joy.
11. Amendment Process
This contract can be amended only if there is mutual agreement from both parties. 
12. Provisions for Marriage Dissolution
If any of these rules are broken or violated by either party, the non-offending party has the right to end this contract at any point in time.
This contract ends once the post-marriage merger and any business pertaining to the merger has been completed.
This Contract represents a full and complete understanding between the Parties regarding their faux marriage.
First Party Signature: Gojo Satoru
Second Party Signature: _____________________________
Satoru’s name is already scribbled on the dotted line in the messiest form of cursive you’ve ever seen. Maybe it should worry you that he’s fully committed to whatever was in this contract both before and after your review and amendments, but you’re not. He seems open to working with you on this, because this contract benefits him as well.
In the end, outside of legally being a Gojo and maybe becoming more involved with the business, nothing will change for you. And that is what is most important.
It’s just an outline. A little set of rules meant for you both to follow so you don’t piss each other off. You think with this in place, things will go a lot more smoothly for you.
Your future has already been decided, but it doesn’t mean that it has to be the future you choose to stick with. This marriage…it’s just a means to an end for the two of you. In a year or two, you’ll be sitting across from Satoru very similarly to how you are now. Except you’ll be going over the divorce papers that you two had always planned on signing.
This contract Satoru has thrown together reads as honest and open. There are no ulterior motives, no outlandish requests. It’s truly just Satoru being honest about what this marriage will mean to him. Open about what he’s needing from you, what he’s willing to give you and where this is going. And when you find Satoru’s gaze already fixed on you, a carefree grin sitting on his lips, you think he looks like he will be very much the same in this marriage. 
You don’t know what your future will hold once you and Satoru are wed. Hell, you don’t know what your future holds tomorrow once word gets back to your families that you’ve both agreed on the union.
And despite the rapid hammering of your heart behind your ribcage, the clamminess forming in your palms that makes your grip on the pen slip, the way your brain is screaming for you not to do this…
You sign on the dotted line.
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pleasantlycrazyworld · 20 hours ago
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I’m your monster
Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader/ Void x Reader
Warnings: Humor, possessive Void, reader thirsting over book villains, light teasing smut, unhinged jealousy from an actual eldritch being, Bob being helpless in the middle, slight mindfuckery, canon-typical weirdness
Summary: You’re reading a dark romance novel, and Void doesn’t like the competition. At all.
A/N: part of my birthday celebration!
><><><><><><><
Bob doesn’t mean to invade your alone time. He really doesn’t. But he gets this feeling. Like the Void is pacing. Which is never good. And then he hears it:
"Oh my God, he kidnapped her but like… it’s so romantic somehow?"
Bob blinks from the hallway. “…What?”
You’re curled up on the couch, paperback in hand, face glowing with the intensity of a feral bookworm mid-delirium. Bob tries to peek at the cover. A shirtless man with blood on his hands and ropes around his wrists stares back at him. The title is something dramatic. Probably has the word Ruin in it. Maybe Temptation. Possibly Chains.
You sigh dreamily, completely unaware of your audience. “He’s so mean, but also? Obsessed with her. Like, unhealthy levels of obsession. He’d burn the world for her.”
A voice slithers through your head like black smoke.
“I HAVE LITERALLY DONE THAT.”
You freeze. Bob winces. “...You woke him up.”
“I didn’t say you,” you hiss, eyes still glued to the page.
Void’s voice oozes through your thoughts again, darker this time, dripping with indignation.
“He’s not even real, little thing. He doesn’t feel. He doesn’t see you. But I do. I always do.”
“Jesus,” you mutter. “He’s jealous of a book character. This is my life now.” Bob sits on the arm of the couch, looking deeply exhausted. “He’s been in the back of my head for twenty minutes ranting about how ‘Dorian Blackwell’ is a weakling who lacks vision.”
“Dorian has a trauma dungeon and knife play!” you argue. “That’s commitment.”
“I HAVE ENTIRE DIMENSIONS BUILT ON DESIRE AND VIOLENCE. I invented commitment. I would consume your soul and still ask if you need water.”
You blink and swallow deeply.“…That’s fuck that’s hot.” Bob looks scandalized. “Don’t encourage him.” Void’s presence thickens, curling around your spine like cold silk, brushing the edges of your mind until goosebumps ripple down your arms.
You feel it like a whisper in your bones: “Let me show you what real devotion feels like.”
You gasp softly as you feel a tingle run down your spine. “…Okay maybe just a little jealous Void energy is fun.”
Bob groans and flops face-first into a pillow. “I cannot believe I’m being cucked by a book and myself.”
Later that night, Bob’s asleep—but you can still feel the Void watching.  Waiting. Lurking in the edges of your dreams like a dark prince in a shadowy tower.
And just before you fall asleep, you hear it again—silken and smug:
“He may be fictional. But don't forget I’m your monster.”
And you smile into the dark, your book falling to the floor, pages bent and forgotten.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago
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Family Man 3
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No warnings except that this is NOT a dark fic. Non-dark fics will be tagged as lightficsyouneveraskedfor but will be posted on this blog.
Character: Jake Jensen (The Losers)
Trope: Single-dad
Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who reads this unusual posting from me. I typically swing in the other direction on fics but something lighter was calling.
Please reblog and leave some feedback if you read. You are appreciated and adored 🩷. Please have a wonderful day, week, year, etc.
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Elita has a way of convincing people to do things. Some might say she’s demanding. You just see a bright and bold girl. You hope she doesn’t lose that. 
So it is that you find yourself pulling in between two minivans behind a community soccer field. The kids in their uniforms practice drills as the bleachers fill with proud parents and bored siblings. You squint across the expanse but can’t make out the only two people you’d know there. 
You grab the tee shirt from the passenger seat and your belt bag. You snap it around your waist and aimlessly wander along the sideline. You follow a woman in khaki towards the benches. 
You see Jake as Elita stands on a bench and yaps at him. You stop to watch them. He wears a bright pink jersey that matches hers. It’s adorable. 
You approach cautiously. “Hey, you too,” you stand just behind them. 
“Ahhh!” Elita shoves her father’s shoulder and hops off the bench. She bounds toward you and snares you in a hug around the waist. 
“Um, I... I was gonna give you your shirt back.” You offer him the freshly washed Green Goblin tee. “But that’s a nice a colour on you. You a coach or something?” 
“Ha, no. I applied but uh... it’s complicated,” he says. 
“Right... forgive me, I don’t know much about sports.” 
“It’s just junior soccer.” He shrugs.
“Just? Well, I’m sure it’s a great game.” You pat Elita’s shoulder as she releases you. “You must be the best player on the field with all that energy.” 
“Sure am,” she boasts. 
“El, game hasn’t even started.” 
She pokes her tongue out at him. “Just wait.” 
A whistle blows. Jake flinches and cranes to see over his shoulder. He turns back and waves Elita over. 
“Go get with the team.” He says. “Good luck, kid.” 
“Don’t need it,” she bounces around the bench and runs to join the other kids. 
He faces the field completely and puts his hands on his hips. He sighs. You step up next to him. 
“She’s excited.” 
“Confident. I don’t know where she gets it from,” he says. “Thanks for coming. I’m sure you have better plans for a Sunday afternoon.” 
“Not really,” you admit. 
“No? You don’t have to lie.” 
“I’m not. My laundry can wait until tomorrow.” You smile. 
He nods and searches the field. “Appreciate it. She’s been talking about you coming all week.” He drops his chin. “She can handle ‘no’. She hears it all the time from me.” 
“I mean it. I don’t mind. She’s a good kid.” 
“Yeah,” he peers out at Elita as she jitters in spot. “I’m lucky.” 
“You do a good job with her. I’m not a parent but she seems happy.” You take a breath, curiosity tickling in the back of your brain. “If you don’t mind me asking, she never... never talks about her mom.” 
“Yeah, well, she shouldn’t worry about that,” he sniffs and lifts his head. He stares off at the sky. “Mom left her in my lap about two weeks after she was born. Don’t know where she went from there.” 
“Oh. I’m sorry. I... I was only—it's none of my business.” 
“You probably thought she died. That would be easier.” He swallows. “Who would leave that baby girl?” 
He’s quiet. You are too. Your heart knots. 
“Jake, I shouldn’t have--” 
“It’s just what it is. I like to think of it as a blessing. If I didn’t have Elita, I’d not have gotten this far.” He smiles softly. “She keeps me focused.” 
“That’s a good way of looking at it.” 
He reaches up and scratches his chin. “Maybe. So, you’re turn. Spill.” 
“Huh?” 
“Tell me something... deep. About you.” He challenges. “I mean...” he flicks his fingers against his neck. “If you want to. Wow. I was trying to be... I don’t know. That came out real pushy.” 
“It’s fine. I don’t know. What can I really say? Oh, well, I was in a five year relationship before I got ghosted. That was a good one,” you snort. 
“Five years?” He utters. 
“Apparently that was five years too long,” you shake your head. “Good riddance. I know better now.” 
“Sounds like. I’d be in no hurry to date if that was me.” 
“Well, it’s been a while.” Your pulse flutters. Careful, now. “Dating can’t be easy with kids, huh?” 
“Never was,” he mutters. “I mean—well, of course. Not everyone wants to be a mother...” 
“It’s definitely a commitment,” you whistle. 
“Mhmm,” he hums dully. “I should probably wait until she’s older.” 
You nod and peer out at the field. The game is in full effect. The ball bounces off of cleats as the small bodies scramble over the grass. You let the murmur of the crowd flood over the tense silence. 
Elita battles for the ball with another little girl. She gets her foot around and manages to pop it out to one of her teammates. As she pumps her arm in victory, the other girl topples like a bowling pin. 
A whistle blows and the ref shows a yellow card. “Roughing.” 
“Roughing?!” Jensen lights up in an instant. Elita stands defiantly before the ref. “She didn’t touch her.” He throws his hands up as he marches to the side line. “Hey, ref! You! Stripes! That girl took a dive!” 
The ref points Elita to the bench. She doesn’t budge and gestures with open palms. 
“Hey!” Jensen booms, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “There wasn’t any contact!” 
“Sir,” the ref turns. “You are not making it any better.” 
“Nothing happened--” 
“There are children,” the ref chides. 
“And? You’re letting them get away with lying? That’s-- that’s not right.” 
You stare, dumbfounded. It’s a little ridiculous that he’s so worked up over a kids’ match, yet you can’t help but find his passion endearing. In that moment, you see where Elita gets it from. When she’s right, she knows it. So does he. 
“Daddy,” Elita grumbles as she brushes by the ref. “Just leave it. They need the advantage.” She sits on the bench and crosses her arms. “Two minutes until I’m back out there to score.” 
You laugh. She’s so over confident. You wish you could be like her. 
“Hey, El. I was watching. I know you didn’t do anything,” he coaxes as he rubs her shoulder. 
“I know, daddy. But they’ll kick you out again,” she pouts. 
“They’ll try,” he bends over her and kisses her hair. 
She smiles and kicks her feet. She watches the game and he stays behind her. You sidle up. 
“Wow, these things get intense,” you chuckle. 
He looks at you then back to the field. “Yeah, I get a bit... heated,” he shifts. “Sorry you had to witness that.” 
“Sorry? That was amazing. You stood up for her. Nothing wrong with that.” You assure. 
“Every week, you know,” he raises his hand in exasperation. “Last week, they tried to red card her and she was standing off on her own.” 
“Oh, really? Definitely rigged.” 
“It is!” He argues. “They make you pay for the uniform and the cleats and the field,” he shakes his head. “Then they blow the whistle ever five seconds.” 
He clucks as his hands go to his hips. He’s thoroughly unimpressed as he glares at the ref. You sense Elita squirming on the bench and find her grinning at you. You give her a look and she smiles bigger. 
“Next time,” she turns back to the match. “I am going to throw an elbow!” 
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daddysbabyfawn · 3 days ago
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wwat the actual fuckkk? lmao this screams contradiction, double standard, hypocrisy everywhere lmao dumbasss bich no wonder men just wanna fuck your dumasss , to be taken serious would be to be miserable. air headed ass lmao
"
love cnc, being degraded, ddlg, etc. dm me to learn more about my kinks. don’t be shy, im a very sweet girl 🥺
- this is a judgement free zone, we don’t kink shame or trauma shame on my page ♡⸝⸝
- i give very good advice, so if you’re ever going through something. don’t hesitate to shoot me a dm, im always here to help anyone who needs it 💞
a little side note: i rarely respond to all porn blogs. lustful men give me the ick"
hi love, just to gently clarify, this page is a safe space where we don’t kink shame or trauma shame anyone. everyone’s healing and expression look different, and that’s okay. 💞
a lot of men on here do reblog extremely violent or degrading porn, not in a consensual kink way, but in a way that feels rooted in real-life misogyny. and that’s just not something i feel comfortable engaging with or promoting. i have no problem with them reblogging or posting that, but i personally don’t want to interact or engage with that, and you should respect my decision.
i’m sorry if anything here upset you, but the anger in your message feels really misplaced and a little hurtful. you’re clearly angry at the world, i truly hope you find some peace or someone to talk to, therapy can be such a healing thing. please try to be kind, even online. you never know what someone’s going through. 🤍
one of the reasons im scared to open my asks and dms is because of comments like this, im human, a very sensitive one at that, and they do hurt me.
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bleue-flora · 22 hours ago
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I think what’s also frustrating to me is that a lot of people I see this from are actually trying to be fair to Dream and not see him as this Tommy obsessed villain with evil control freak personality. They are actually trying to be on Dream’s side and that’s the biggest problem. I’m not seeking out fanfiction that’s Dream negative and then being upset by their take on Dream, that’d be dumb. No what’s tragic to me is that it is supposed to be Dream sympathetic. This is a perception that “Dream apologist” or at least people who don’t hate him ya know? That he wasn’t just evil bad guy but did have an admirable goal of wanting to unite the server. That’s what kills me, and that’s not to shame anyone, author or blog or anything, this is just something that I’ve noticed that pains me because with the best of intentions they still miss the mark. And of course they do, if you’re fighting against the rhetoric of - Dream = pure evil period. Then that is trying to separate from that and just like so many fandom things it’s so widespread through fanfics and such that of course you’d adapt it. Honestly, there might have been a time at first that I prescribed to this assessment, because most people did so it makes sense. But as I started to dive into the more analysis side and rewatch streams looking a little closer now that I know the overarching plot, I got to understand Dream a bit further and started to look at his actions and realized that the biggest hole in this perception is - why put himself in prison?
That’s the biggest thing that doesn’t make sense. No theory or reasoning could explain. Which bothered me because the prison really impacts the later half of his arc so if we can’t understand this piece then can we say we understand Dream at all?
Because here’s the thing, we pretty much all agree it was intentional, part of a bigger plan but are we saying that plan ended with his incarceration? That his plan ended at uniting the server against him in staged finale? Are we really saying that the ‘mastermind, power hungry puppeteer’ had no goal or plan once in prison? But then we know he had some kind of plan because Punz says afterwards that he was supposed to be out ages ago. Which sure we could attribute to Techno, but then if Techno was plan A and not plan B, why didn’t they let Techno know to break him out beforehand. Why wait until you are in a position where you are unable to contact him. It doesn’t make sense, and at that point to me the whole theory falls apart.
That and the fact that the vault leverage he plans to use to control everyone is again, absolute bogus anyways. This “power over Tommy” and “needs to keep him alive” - why when he can bring him back - and if you planned on putting Skeppy in a cage, why not keep Tubbo in one for extra leverage as well? Then there’s the items he means to blackmail and control people with, which were all fake. He didn’t steal the Axe of Peace, he didn’t steal Beckerson, the Skeppy cage is ridiculous, and the pets were all fake. And at that point, it left me trying to understand why and I had to ignore what his later actions and words and villain monologues told me, to start to fit together the puzzle in a way I think works better.
And maybe I’m wrong, but I’ve thought about it a lot and honestly think it’s the only thing that makes sense. And I think it’s important to note that Dream does make sense, in that he has his reasons for why he does things. That something he makes very clear. So, unlike Tommy or other characters who do things against their own motivations, Dream should be mostly consistent and we should be able to extrapolate what his reasons are, knowing that it should follow a certain logic even if a flawed and naive one.
If his plan was unity - than staged finale was a dumb plan destined to fail because it didn’t even involve everyone
If his motivation is power and control - than staged finale and putting himself in prison is the exact opposite of that goal in every sense
And we know that they staged the disc confrontation and we know he planned to be put in prison, in fact it might be the most solid thing we know about Dream. The most definitive plan we have to look at. We don’t know what his end goal was with Exile or the Finale, but this, this we know. We know that he planned to end up in prison and we know he also planned to get out sooner than later, the question is why and I think for me personally any theory that fails to answer this question doesn’t quite fit.
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I cannot stress this enough. If Dream wanted control why didn’t he take the control constantly offered to him? Why instill a king when people were already assuming he was the head because he was the admin? Why give people back their stuff? Why not keep the discs? Why let L’manberg form at all? Why is it that people can believe that the disc confrontation was staged but then assume his monologue was genuine? If it’s a set up, doesn’t it make more sense to all be a set up? If he has fake animals and items he didn’t even steal but just ended up in his hands, if his wall of attachments was bogus, then doesn’t it make sense for it all to be bogus?… like over and over again he actually denies control, and yet that narrative of wanting control and unity is so widespread amongst the fandom. But if you really look at things it doesn’t make sense for his goal to be control or uniting people against him even if he can’t be apart of it, because that doesn’t line up with his goals of a happy family, of friends, of simpler times, and his desire to not be alone… it doesn’t make sense…
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shifteruncensored · 17 hours ago
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epistemic humility & the rise of loa absolutism in the shifting community
› aka a rant about pluralism & why loa isn't the damn shifting bible
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what is shifting? like actually?
okay, so let’s get this out the way. there is no textbook definition yet but based on info compiled by the community (& my personal beliefs) shifting is :
╰ the process of consciously moving one’s awareness to experience another reality (where they already exist). your “consciousness,” whatever that is (and we’ll get into that too lol) becomes aware of another reality. this is usually called a dr.
╰ by general definition, shifting is not inherently tied to ANY belief system. not loa. not manifestation. not any western new age system. it's just something ppl have said they experienced. across spiritualities, cultures, backgrounds, blah blah blah. some ppl do it accidentally. some meditate. some pray. some script. some just like… do nothing and it happens anyway?? there's no cause that everyone can agree on. which means……the mechanism of shifting is unknown. and yet some ppl are over here saying "just use law of assumption" like scripture.
like. babe. pls. slow down.
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the cult of "loa shifting is the only way" and why it's… getting weird
i adore loa. i do. i use it myself. it works. it's helped me shatter toxic assumptions and manifest many times. i think it's genius. but (and this is a giant ass but)
╰ it's not the sole approach to shifting. and acting like it is? isn't just flawed. it can be harmful to the shifting community as a whole.
╰ idk when this started but now it’s like the entire shifting community is flooded with these blogs / accounts screaming things like "you have to assume to shift” and things of that sort. like… idk maybe relax? maybe stop screaming at people for questioning things?
and can we talk about how reductive is it to reduce something so complicated & mysterious like reality shifting to just “assuming is the way”??? like seriously. SERIOUSLY??????? 🤨
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shifting ≠ only assumption. it can also be about AWARENESS + EMBODIMENT
if you actually listen to others (not only the popular creators but actually outsource….) you'll see a lot of non-loa shifters. from what i gather, what they're talking about has less to do with "assuming you're there" and a whole lot more to do with other personal practices (don’t worry, i’ll get into some of them later).
╰ but the core thought from non-loa shifters i see is that, you don’t need to assume you're there. bcs you already ARE.
loa thrives off the idea that "your assumptions shape your reality" and yeah that is one way of interpreting reality. but it's just that. AN INTERPRETATION. not a fact.
╰ and if i’m being honest? it's a western hyper individualistic one at that. other people interpret shifting as soul travel, astral projection, quantum jumping, divine free will from the gods, WHATEVER.
and ALL of these interpretations could be right.. why? bcs once again, the nature of shifting is unknown.
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the logic ain't logicking
the "assumption is the only way" crowd is just always spouting on and on about things like "you only didn't shift bcs you assumed you didn't." but like… do you know that's circular logic???!!
it's unfalsifiable. it's "you failed because you failed." this leaves little to no space for nuance. for emotional state. for trauma. or ANYTHING that might possibly impact the mind's capacity to focus or become aware which could directly impact your approach to shifting (we don’t know though since nothing is proven).
╰ also saying "loa is the only way" AND ALSO "you create your reality" is a textbook contradiction !!!!!! because if i create my reality… i can shift with practices that DON'T include loa. right??
so what is it??? 🤔
also don’t even get me started on the logical fallacies (2020 shifttok is calling you….)
like ok let's really think about it :
1 ) false cause fallacy … just because some ppl shifted using loa doesn’t mean it’s the only or correct method. correlation ≠ causation, y’all pls….. it’s like saying “i ate toast before shifting so toast is the key.” pls.
2 ) reductionism fallacy … simplifying a complicated process like shifting (something centered on consciousness and experience) to just "assumptions" neglects all the other ways ppl induce shifting. some shift through prayer, some through trance, some through astral projection methods unrelated to loa. like… it's bigger than one concept.
3 ) exclusion fallacy … talking about shifting needing to be loa-based erases / invalidates the experience of anybody who didn’t use that framework and still shifted. that’s disrespectful tbh. other people's religions / beliefs / practices are not your loa fanfic.
4 ) and the most annoying one … the “if someone shifts accidentally, they must’ve assumed without knowing it” like… WHAT? be so fucking serious……….. you’re saying every single person who’s ever shifted by accident was actually just assuming something unconsciously?? where’s the proof? that’s not a theory. that’s what i like to call cope. you’re just slapping the same label on every outcome to keep your worldview airtight. it’s ok to not know the answer to everything.
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spiritual gatekeeping is kinda colonizer behavior.
yeah i fucking said it.
telling people loa is the ONLY way to shift isn't just incorrect (based on actual experiences from others) it's also culturally insensitive as fuck.
╰ like… you’re gonna tell a christian shifter who prays every night to shift that they’re “just assuming through god”? or tell a sufi mystic who uses dhikr (chanting & remembrance) to enter diff states that it’s “just loa but they don’t know it”?? or that a buddhist monk using jhāna states to leave their body is… wrong ?????
cut the fucking crap.
you are literally removing centuries of metaphysical traditions from various cultures and slapping your 21th century worldview (and/or beliefs) on top of them. that's your ego talking.
diff cultures, diff mindsets, diff systems, diff paths. this is supposed to be about consciousness. not just you.
╰ and in all seriousness? all this "my way or no way" crap STINKS of epistemological arrogance ….. like acting like you have the absolute truth of how reality and consciousness work when in reality, none of do is a prime example of intellectual laziness…… thinking you have a monopoly on the truth in an area that's literally uncharted waters. pls……..
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pluralism > propaganda
you know what WOULD ACTUALLY BENEFIT the shifting community??? humility. open mindedness. an understanding that we DO NOT have all the answers. & that's fucking ok.
╰ there's power in mystery. there's potential in pluralism. when you say "loa works for me" that's great. inspiring even. when you say "loa is THE only way" that's fucking cult crap. sorry not sorry.
idk i just feel like we can do better.
╰ shifters deserve a community that values complexity. that respects multi-spirituality. that doesn't judge every 5 seconds. that not everyone is going to spew affs 60x a day or use loa. some meditate. some use lucid dreaming. some pray. some visualize. some let go entirely. some do NOTHING and still shift.
and they're all fucking fine. bcs the goal is to shift and they are.
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that’s it. that’s the rant.
pls. i'm begging. use loa. love it. preach it on your blog / account if you want (i do that too). but please don't shame other ppl for not believing in a philosophy. don't call them “dumb” or "nonbelievers" or "not committed enough" just because they're questioning your worldview.
stop ss shifters from other platforms & posting it here just to see them get dragged on tumblr bcs they have a diff view of things. just stop being a fucking weirdo. (this. fucking. part.)
questioning things is good. curiosity is good. nuance is good. we’re dealing with consciousness, not a fucking lego manual.
and i beg of you, STOP pretending one lens fits all ?!!$!!!!!!
– a bitch who loves loa but also loves intellectual honesty -^-
(and is tired of y’all acting like assumption is the only way)
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majaloveschris · 2 days ago
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So I’ve gotten a lot of asks since yesterday about the new photo some people saw on someone’s private social media. I obviously haven’t seen the picture, and I probably never will, even if it’s an existing one. I don’t really know what to believe, nor do I really have any theories because this is not something of which I can really have any. She might be pregnant, or might be not; time will tell for sure.
There’s one thing I don’t understand and another that bothers me.
The thing that I don’t understand is how she was capable of hiding her belly in those pictures that were posted online of her if she has such a visible one that from a picture people were able to tell she is pregnant? I don’t think she showed anything else, but a flat stomach in those videos and pictures. I obviously know that those are a bit blurry, but I think on Justin’s you can clearly see she doesn’t have one.
But you know what, let’s assume she is pregnant for a second. And let’s say that we can’t see her stomach because she is trying to hide it.
The second thing, the thing that bothers me, is the old privacy talk. Now people love throwing that word around, proudly using it from a high horse, trying to be the moral compass of the fandom. But the minute they find something that aligns with their views and opinion, it doesn’t matter anymore. Imagine if I, for example, would’ve gotten my hands on their divorce papers and would’ve shared the news (without evidence, of course). Would people believe me? Maybe those who believe this is not real would, but a lot of people wouldn’t, because why would they? My words are nothing without evidence, and just because I hear something that I want to be real, it doesn’t mean it is. But leaking something so personal doesn’t feel right. And I’m not saying that because I don’t want it to be true, because what’s going to happen if it is? Nothing. My life will be the same. Was I wrong about them being PR then? Yeah, but my life will go on, without any chance. I just don’t like hypocrisy, and while I’m not the biggest fan of Alba, „announcing” something like this is not a random Tumblr blog’s thing to do. You could obviously say that maybe Alba wanted the info out, but she didn’t want to do it herself, so she managed to do it this way. That’s a possibility as well. But again, it’s about the hypocrisy part. Some people can do whatever they want if it proves their truth; some can’t do anything.
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lucydixon · 6 hours ago
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The Party
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Eddie Munson Masterlist 𐴱 Main Masterlist 𐴱 Taglist 𐴱 Reading List 𐴱 Pinned Post 𐴱 Moodboard side-Blog
A/N: This is part thirteen of my Welcome to Hellfire Series. Previous Parts: 1 𐴱 2 𐴱 3 𐴱 4 𐴱 5 𐴱 6 𐴱 7 𐴱 8 𐴱 9 𐴱 10 𐴱 11 𐴱 12 Series Masterlist
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Summary: You and Eddie hard launch your relationship at Jason Carver's party
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Eddie spent the entire time he watched you getting ready for Jason Carver’s party trying to figure out how to tell you that he didn’t want you too close while he was dealing without hurting your feelings. 
He didn’t want to be apart, but there’s no way he was going to make an exchange right in front of you. He’d have to duck off to the side or outside and park you somewhere in hopes that you didn’t get bored or annoyed. 
“You ready to hard launch this relationship, Munson?” You looked up at him through the mirror, setting down your lip gloss as you finished, and smiled. 
It faltered when you saw the pensive look on his face.
“You okay?” you turned to poke his stomach gently. 
He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he jumped. 
“What?” 
“You were all spaced out.” You frowned. “What’s got you thinking so hard?” 
“I don’t want to deal right in front of you.” He muttered, gnawing on his bottom lip, “I feel like that’s kind of fucked up.” 
“I’ll close my eyes.” You proposed, looking up at him through your lashes, and held out your pinky, “I pinky swear.” 
“Well, if you pinky swear.” He rolled his eyes, cracking an amused smile despite his unease, and wrapped his pinky around yours “Can’t exactly argue with that, now can I?” 
“That’s right.” You stood and tilted your head back slightly. “Just let me get changed and we can go, okay?” 
He couldn’t help but duck down and kiss your nose, then both your cheeks.
“Am I gonna need blinders to drive this time?” He let you brush past him into the closet. 
“Well, that depends, what’s the vibe?” You paused and leaned up against the doorframe. 
“I’m wearing this,” he gestured towards his usual get-up, ripped black jeans, and a band tee, mostly covered by his leather jacket and vest. “So, I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.” 
“That’s like your signature look, though.” You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to think of what to wear. “It looks good anywhere.” 
His cheeks warmed slightly, and he couldn’t help the bashful smile tugging at his lips. 
“Okay, wait.” You nodded to yourself, ducking into the closet. “I’ve got it.” 
You came back out a couple of minutes later in tight black jeans and a maroon tank with a denim jacket draped over your shoulders. 
“We’re almost matching.” You grinned excitedly at the dumbstruck look on his face.
It was a simple outfit, but damn, did you ever look good in it. 
You looked good in everything. 
Looked even better in nothing….
“Eds!” 
“Huh?” He swallowed hard. 
“What do you think?” You looked amused, as if you could hear his thoughts. 
“You want to match with me?” 
“Of course I do.” Your cheeks warmed. “Do you not want to? I could wear something else-” 
“No!” Eddie blurted, taking two long strides to close the distance between the two of you to cradle your face in his hands, “I think it’s really cute.” 
“Yeah?” you cracked a little smile, leaning in for a kiss. 
He hummed into it, brushing his thumbs over your cheekbones gently before pulling back slightly. 
“You know, people are probably gonna pick on you if they see us together, right?” There was an underlying insecurity in his eyes. “Not too late to turn back.” 
“Eddie, why would I give a single, solitary fuck what a bunch of people I don’t even like think?” You frowned, resting your hands over his on your cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
The reassurance soothed an ache deep in his chest. 
“I can’t believe you’re real.” 
“Well, I am.” You pressed your lips to his palm. “Now let's go.” 
Eddie started fidgeting the second the van rolled to a stop. 
Even with all the windows closed, you could hear the muffled music blaring through the speakers inside the house. It was pop or something, you weren’t sure, but you knew that it wasn’t your favourite. 
It sounded fitting for a party full of preps, though. 
“You okay?” You asked, brow furrowing slightly in concern when you clocked the anxious look on his face. 
“Yeah,” He muttered, “I don’t like parties.” 
“Why bother then?” 
“Need to get rid of what I’ve got left,” he gnawed on his bottom lip, looking up at you through strands of curly hair. “Then I’m done.” 
“Done?” 
“No more dealing.” He nodded, bouncing his knee, “I’ll stop.” 
“Really?” Your lips curled up into a smile so warm that it calmed him down a bit. 
“Yeah.” 
“That’s great, Eds.” You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m proud of you.” 
“I’m not gonna lie,” Eddie spoke without thinking, and his cheeks warmed, “That kinda gave me a semi.” 
“What did?” You laughed, delighted by the overshare “Me saying I’m proud of you?” 
“Don’t laugh at me.” He groaned, letting his forehead fall onto the steering wheel. 
“I’m not!” You insisted, sliding down the bench seat, “I’m just curious.” 
“Do you have a little praise kink, Munson?” You leaned over and whispered into his ear. “Want me to tell you you’re a good boy?” 
You were half-joking, but Eddie shuddered, and his breath hitched. 
“You do!” you gasped, jabbing a finger into his arm. 
“Quit it.” He whined, sitting up to pout at you, “I do not.” 
You opened your mouth to retort, but his eyes filled with mirth. 
“I think everyone likes a little praise.” He smirked softly despite his prior embarrassment. “How would you feel if I called you a good girl?” 
Your teasing look fell, and you swallowed hard, unable to deny the rush of warmth you felt. 
“That’s what I thought.” He scoffed “I’m gonna remember that, Sweetheart.” 
“Why don’t you sit there all pretty and I’ll come open your door for you.” Edde undid his seatbelt, thanking the gods for this discovery, despite suffering the same effects hearing praise.
It would be fun to watch you squirm for once. 
You were visibly flustered when he got your door open. 
“You okay there, pretty girl?” he smirked
That was a new one and fuck, it melted your insides. 
“Shut up.” You huffed, but the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips gave you away. 
As soon as you got out of the van, you kissed him and he wasted no time hooking his fingers into your beltloops to pull you closer
You both smiled into the kiss, melting into one another, party forgotten until Jason Carver shouted his name from the porch, waving him over and seemingly oblivious that you were with him. 
Eddie sighed dramatically and pecked you on the lips one more time before climbing into the back of the van before emerging with bulging pockets. 
He wasn’t sure if he should grab your hand, unsure just how comfortable you were being seen with him. You’d made it clear that you didn’t care what anyone else thought, but there was still this nagging concern until you made the decision for him and laced your fingers together, giving his a reassuring squeeze. 
You both clocked the moment that Jason Carver realized that the two of you were holding hands and seemingly together. 
His eyes bounced from you, to Eddie, then back a few times, widening slightly in disbelief. He’d never seen the two of you in the same room, and now you were walking up the steps to his porch as a couple? 
He knew you.
You were quiet and didn’t really hang out with him or any of his friends, but you seemed like a sweet girl. Certainly too sweet to be going out with Eddie Munson. 
It didn’t seem right to him. 
“Jason.” You nodded politely despite his look of shock. “Nice to see you.” 
He opened his mouth a few times.
“What are you doing with him?” He blurted, gesturing to Eddie, who’s jaw immediately flexed. 
“With Eddie?” Your brows pulled together slightly “I’m always with Eddie.” 
You said it like that had always been the case and it made him chuckle next to you. 
Jason just blinked at you. 
“We doing this or not?” Eddie asked the stunned basketball captain, who finally snapped out of his daze. 
“Uh, yeah-” He cleared is throat, nodding towards the door while still side eyeing the two of you.  “I’ll get you set up in the kitchen.” 
“Set up?” You muttered to Eddie, sounding amused “Like a store?” 
“Not exactly.” He rolled his eyes playfully and led you through the crowded house by the hand “Like a one stop shop. Get your drinks and drugs all in the same place.”
“Excellent marketing.” You nodded appreciatively, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
Neither of you had been paying attention, but there were eyes on you. 
Plenty of them. 
Confused looks were being passed about and, the second that Eddie had to duck off to the side to make a deal, leaving you sitting on the kitchen counter, people you vaguely recognized from school started approaching you while trying to look like they were just mixing themselves something to drink. 
“Are you here with Eddie Munson?” A girl from your chemistry class asked, side eyeing your boyfriend while he exchanged drugs for money on the other side of the room. 
“Sure am.” You bobbed your head, sipping out of a red solo cup. 
“Like, as his date?” You didn’t pay the shocked look on her face any mind. 
“As his girlfriend.” You corrected, taking more pleasure than you’d like to admit in the way her face contorted into a grimace. 
She didn’t stay long after that. 
Next, came two cheerleeders you’d seen roaming the halls, always attached at the hip and no different on this occasion. One of them started by commenting on how cute your jacket was, and you just beamed and thanked her before explaining that you were kinda matching with your boyfriend, which Eddie overheard on his way back to you, unable to contain the smile on his face.  
“You talking about me, Sweetheart?” He planted one hand on either side of you when the girls fled, gripping the edge of the counter and caging you in. 
“Course I am.” You batted your lashes at him, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Gotta make sure all these girls know you’re off the market.” 
Eddie could barely formulate a thought aside from the acknowledgment of the warmth spreading through his chest. Not only did you not care that people were staring, but you were going out of your way to make sure everyone knew that the two of you were a couple, and Christ, you even looked proud while you did it. 
“I don’t think I’ve been on the market since the second I laid eyes on you.” He muttered finally, leaning forward until your foreheads were touching. 
Your breath hitched in your throat. 
He only had time to peck you on the lips before his next customer was clearing their throat loudly. 
Eddie groaned dramatically and pushed off the counter to attend to the annoyed looking partygoer. 
When you looked up, you saw that plenty of people were staring. 
You smiled sweetly and waved.
They were all quick to avert their gaze. 
It really didn’t bother you that people were staring or talking about you. No, you couldn’t have given less of a shit what they thought about you. 
What bothered you was what you’d overheard them saying about Eddie while you were trying to find a bathroom. 
There were faint mutters of blood rituals and him having cast a spell on you with his witch powers, which had made you laugh initially until you caught the tail end of a second stream of comments coming from the infamous Carol Perkins. 
‘My neighbour's friend saw him feeding those little children in his satanic group pills,” She murmured, far too loudly, “probably trying to start them young so he has customers for life-” 
“That’s bullshit.” You were speaking before you could even think. 
“Excuse me?” She reared back with an incredulous look. 
“What an awful thing to say about someone you don’t know.” You kept yourself from sounding too angry, intentionally trying to make her feel like a scolded child. “I heard you gave hald the basketball team chlamydia, but you don’t see me telling everyone, do you?” 
You tsk’d, shaking your head. 
The girls surrounding the former Hawkins High prom queen giggled amongst themselves while the blood drained out of her face. 
You’d made it up, but obviously, there was some truth to it if her reaction was any indicator. 
“Oops!” You feigned innocence. “Did I say that out loud? I’m so sorry!” 
You almost felt bad, but when her eyes filled with rage and she opened her mouth to spew a hateful mes of a sentence your way, it drained you of any sympathy. 
You couldn’t even understand half of what she’d tried to spit through her teeth. 
“Doesn’t feel so good when it’s happening to you,” You pouted condescendingly. “Does it, Carol?” 
You were a little surprised that she didn’t swing at you. 
By the time you’d found the bathroom and made your way back to the kitchen, you could hear people muttering about Carol and the basketball team, and you did a poor job hiding the smug look on your face. 
“What took you so long?” Eddie hugged you from behind and whined in your ear, startling you so much that it made you jump. “Easy, sweetheart. It’s just me.” 
You leaned back into him, relieved it wasn’t Carol trying to tackle you to the floor. 
“You okay?” There was an edge of concern in his tone. 
“Mhmm” You hummed, pressing your lips to his leatherclad bicep. “Almost done?” 
“Just sold my last dime bag.” 
“Ready to go then?” you tilted your head back and looked at him upside down. 
Eddie nodded and pecked you on the lips so sweetly that you couldn’t contain your grin. 
Halfway back to the trailer, you confessed what had happened with Carol, unsure why you suddenly felt so guilty about it. 
It had fallen for your lips in a hurried, almost panicked way that had Eddie pulling over. 
“Whoa,” he undid his seatbelt and dragged himself across the bench seat so that he was right next to you, staring down at you with concern. “What is happening right now?” 
“I don’t know.” You sighed, tugging at the ends of your hair “I think I feel bad about it.” 
“You shouldn’t.” Eddie gently guided your hand away from your hair and laced your fingers together. “She needed to be knocked down a peg.” 
“It was mean though.” It sounded so childish to say out loud. 
“I think you’re just too nice.” Eddie chuckled softly, kissing the side of your head. “My sweet, sweet girl.” 
You couldn’t help but smile, filled with giddiness that only he could stir up. 
“You’re being awfully cute tonight with the nicknames.” you let your head rest on his shoulder. 
“Me?” He gasped theatrically “I’m the cute one, when you’re the one who was going around telling everyone I’m your boyfriend?” 
“You gave up drug dealing for me!” 
“I’d give up anything for you.” He said softer, nuzzling the top of your head like a cat.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
You had it so beyond bad for this boy. 
Those three pesky little words were crawling their way up your throat, and you had to swallow hard to keep them at bay. 
“I really like you.” You blurted, a little too loud “Like a lot.” 
“I really like you a lot too” Eddie chuckled “Should we get home?” 
You nodded, kissing his knuckled before begrudgingly letting go of his hand so he could shuffle back into the driver’s seat. 
It felt dangerous to allow the spark of hope to bloom deep in his chest, but damn it, it was there. 
Maybe your feelings were as sudden and intense as his, and maybe, just maybe, you were just as afraid to say it out loud. 
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Dividers and Banners by me on my side-blog @dividers-are-us Taglist: @walleloveseve @farrowroyale @givemiacookie @jeangeniex @cheesesandwichsanto @klutzylaena @mdurdenpitt @3sriracha @shokihomin @awkward00noodle @underatedgentlemencollector-blog @gxpsywitch19 @lexr86 @tanyaherondale @g3n3zshack @jjmaybankswifes-blog @be-gentle-with-my-potatos @kelsiegrin @justalotoffanfiction @s1mp-4-ga11y micheledawn1975 @zroberts13 @gxpsywitch19
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oneknightstand-if · 3 days ago
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This mayyy be a hot take…. but I think that Merlin would be better as a non-romanceable character! 🫣
They seem to be pretty firmly on the aromantic spectrum (considering that their preference would be to be friends or fwb, that they would never profess their love to someone, would never seek out a reincarnated lover etc.).
The nature of their illusion is also a pretty big hurdle to overcome imo. Putting aside the fact that it’s designed to be deceptive, part of what contributes to attraction/ appreciation is someone’s imperfections, uniqueness, and the vulnerability of being seen. An amalgamation of aesthetically pleasing sights might be inoffensive or captivating, sure, but can it ever be truly beautiful? Would it become a face you could love? You’re perceiving nothing more than a manifestation of your own desires reflected back at you; what kind of a person would fall in love with that?
Finally, I’m not sure if this is a character flaw that might be addressed further down the line, but Merlin’s lack of preferences/ willingness to be anyone and do anything based on their partner’s desires is another serious blow to establishing any kind of understanding or trust. It feels disingenuous at best, and like you would be using each other at worst. I don’t see how one could develop a connection with someone who withholds so much of themselves, without being someone who was either very self-absorbed or straight up deluded.
Am I completely wrong?
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Eh... that really isn't Merlin. You're making a bunch of assumptions about them that aren't true.
Friends with benefits might be their preferred default relationship, but they've been married multiple times already. This includes during Camelot (and someone in the comments already figured out who that spouse was from the clues in the game, not to mention said spouse is on the table as one of the potential reincarnations). Their natural attitude might be aromantic, but they're hardly allergic to romance either.
Of course, they can love in their own way and profess love, just don't expect an ancient entity to fall at the drop of a hat or make you the center of their universe. It's also been joked repeatedly on this blog about them chasing after the reincarnation of a former long-term lover? They just have the good sense to know they aren't entitled to the same type of relationship again and to respect the variances in the new incarnation. Because they've been through this a whole lot already.
It's also already in the game where Merlin can admit that they're not actually all that good with casting illusions.
"Anything you want, any time you want," applies to incubus sex only. Otherwise, Merlin wouldn't even have a defined personality. And holding back large parts of themselves applies to literally everyone in the first game. All the ROs and also the MC.
If the manifestation of my earthly desires showed up, I wouldn't turn my nose up at that, particularly if that's just the way they naturally manifest. That's it own sort of superficiality. (All the other stuff up with Merlin, though...)
Merlin is one of the most dangerous ROs in the game with a ton of red flags and caveats, but... there's an entire subgenre dedicated to monsterfucking, you know? And as far as "monsters" go, they're not really that out there. But you're not getting a normal human just wearing a "demon" nametag either.
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svt-luna · 1 day ago
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i missed you sel :( i hate that these people are doing this to you and it makes me angry for you. i saw the way you replied to the recents asks and can tell all of these are really affecting you :( please take the break. i know saying to ignore these people wont do much 🥲
this blog has been the best thing i've ever come across because you just know what to write and i love your writing style. i love your blog and the aesthetic. you worked so hard on it. when i saw the recent posts and i saw that you actually wanted to quit, my heart dropped but at the same time, im not suprised especially after seeing that people have been rude to you :( i know my words serve very little comfort but i hope it does in any small way
thank you for everything you do sel 😞 im so sorry people are horrible and treating you like that
please take the break and just have your me time
see you soon 🤍
This will be the last ask I’ll be answering for a while. I wasn’t planning to respond to anything since I’m on hiatus, but I decided to go through a few today and I wanted to end it on this note rather than the frustration I’ve been letting spill out lately. I didn’t want my last responses to just be me venting.
First off, thank you! I mean that sincerely. I can feel the care in your message, and even though you think your words might not bring much comfort, they honestly do. More than you probably realize.
I also want to thank everyone else who has voiced their support. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
It’s been heavy lately. Everything piling on, the copycats, the passive-aggressive comments, the rude demands, the entitlement… it’s hard not to let it wear you down when you’ve put so much time, energy, and love into something.
And yeah, I won’t lie, the thought of quitting has been sitting quietly in the back of my mind. Not because I want to, but because the drama and burnout makes everything feel a little dimmer than it really is.
But seeing words like yours reminds me why I started this in the first place. Why I kept going. Why I still want to keep going. I have so much planned, so many things I’ve been excited to share and I want to return to them with a clearer head and heart. I want to return because I love creating. I love this blog. And I want to keep loving it.
So I’m going to take that break. For real this time. Step away, rest, and breathe. Let the noise quiet down. And hopefully when I come back, it won’t be with thoughts of quitting but with that spark again. I don’t want to give the people who tried to tear me down the ending they were hoping for. That’s not the story I’m writing.
Thank you for being here. For seeing me. For saying something kind when you didn’t have to. I’ll carry that with me.
See you soon, my loves.🤍
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majkuindelululand · 2 days ago
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Why I’m not OT7 anymore. And I’m not sorry.
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So I “stole” this screenshot from @bangtanhoesthings. For the sake of my mental health. And to illustrate a trend I’ve been noticing ever since I started calling myself ARMY.
It all started exactly two days ago. I was thinking about posting something. Most of my posts are chaotic brain dumps written in one sitting. Works for fanfiction. Works when I write about Jimin. It’ll work for occasional Tumblr blogging too.
So I think: what should I write? Maybe part three of my “Jimin vs Stereotypes”? Maybe finally something about BTS being a cultural phenomenon? Maybe that weird-ass queer-coded narrative I found while writing my thesis? I had time. My daughter and I were both sick. Writing seemed like the right choice.
Anyway. I’m running a fever, thinking about writing, considering whether the world is too dangerous to exist in — maybe I should live in a plastic hamster ball — and suddenly… Oh. The boys are active again. And I have to explain to my kid why I’m squealing at my phone and waking her up during summer break.
But I digress.
So. I’m watching everything — excited as hell, mentally preparing for fandom drama, hyped about short-form videos, Insta updates, Tumblr posts… The past two days I’ve been flipping between watching jikook, drooling over J-Hope’s concert (seriously dude, what was that cape for? Flirting?!) and replaying gifs. And then… I see that. And I remember exactly why (and how) I dug up my 12-year-old Tumblr profile.
You see, I was a baby ARMY. I didn’t even know that’s what we were called. I had already fallen deep — into Jimin — before it even hit me that I was a fan. And back then? I was naïve. I had no idea what this fandom was capable of.
Dumb, innocent me once asked under someone’s post why they thought JK felt “off” around Jimin. I was genuinely curious. I even asked how that aligned with him calling Jimin his comfort person. Five minutes later I turned off notifications.
Then I found this place. And now I live in a happy little bubble. But even here, I sometimes can’t resist poking the angry fandom raccoon with a stick — just to check if I really imagined it all. So I wander into taekook spaces. Into so-called OT7 territory.
And suddenly I feel like I landed in a parallel universe.
Not because I’m wrong. Not because I’m watching something different. I am watching the same stuff. I just can’t see what the hell they’re seeing. And it’s not shipping anymore. It has its own rules now. It’s a cult.
Say one thing that doesn’t align with “the narrative” and you get ripped apart like a rabid dog. It’s a religion. With core doctrines. And no matter what you say, someone’s gonna come at you with a combo of “forced,” “scripted,” and “Taehyung.”
And again — don’t get me wrong. I LIKE Taehyung. I really do. But through a screen. In edited clips. In filtered content. I like his voice, his looks, his dance, his humor — as long as I can skip it when I get bored.
I’m one of the few jikookers who is NOT OT7. And I say it with my chest. If I could cut Tae out of half the BTS content — I would.
Why? Because I swear I see a streak of healthy ego in him. Yes, healthy. It’s normal to want to be the best. Always. That’s human. But why does it bother me so much in Tae? Because I see it compared to the rest of the group. And in my opinion (heavily biased, obviously, I’m Jimin stan to the bone) — it’s just too much.
Tae started annoying me fairly early. He wasn’t attention-seeking in the classic sense. But that little drop of “look-at-me” energy? It was enough. And I started noticing patterns — behaviors that, unless decoded directly by him, looked like pure commercial strategy.
Back in the day, it was those “accidental” jikook moments being sabotaged. I could even argue that Tae and Jin were the biggest jikook shippers back then. But later? Going live just to mention JK? Skipping details so it sounds like a taekook fairytale? I might’ve ignored it — but JK kept showing up to quietly debunk those stories.
Gently. Subtly. Because he’s a good boy. (And God help him if he wasn’t — Jimin and Namjoon would have turned his ass into the Dark Ages.) But he DID it. Repeatedly. Patiently. While never once correcting anything Jimin said.
That paints a picture.
Add their “make-up” moment in In the Soop, and it’s starting to look like a pattern. A narrative machine spinning around Tae.
I won’t do a reverse-taekooker move and say “JK feels uncomfortable with Tae.” But I will build a sentence in a way that makes you think it. Because I’m a hypocrite. Like most people.
Now let’s swing back to jikook for a second.
JK’s been showing a new behavior lately. You know what it is? He’s been acting a little like Tae. He pops into live streams just to mention Jimin and then poof. Gone. Like he’s looking for an excuse.
And let’s be real — we live for it. We scream. We cry. We lose all function. JK breathes Jimin’s name and the Earth stops rotating. Another jikook clue. Another theory. Another spreadsheet.
You see — taekookers do the same thing. And it would be stupid to think the boys don’t know that. They know. They’re not blind or deaf.
And that’s what makes it worse.
Because if someone’s really your friend — you don’t keep throwing them under the bus like that. Tae does. He sets people up. JK has to come in and clean up the mess. And Jimin? Jimin ends up actually at risk.
PHYSICALLY. DAMN IT.
Him, his family, his hypothetical dog, two future grandkids, and some random celeb taekookers decided to ship him with this week — in unholy alliance with homophobes.
I’ll leave you with that.
Now — the screenshot. Apparently Tae “leaked” JK’s Instagram. But y’all — when that happened, the account was literally empty. No profile pic. No banner. No bio. Just a random placeholder name that sounded like a draft before legal reviewed it.
What does that tell us?
I don’t even care if it was Tae for real. There was no “confirmed” label yet when I wrote this post. What does matter is this:
He did it too early. He jumped the gun. And now we have another cute anecdote for the fandom highlight reel.
This man has no boundaries. Or at least… I don’t see any.
As I said in a reblog: Give it a year, and this will be accepted fandom truth. Like many things before it. Like many things still to come. Especially the ones involving jikook, taekookers, and BTS in general.
And it’ll be sad. It’ll be pathetic. And I? I’ll still be just as pissed off as I am right now.
THAT’S why I’m not OT7 anymore. I’m done. I won’t pretend I don’t see it.
If, when you first started following me, you expected me to be gentle — well. I won’t be.
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throughthelookingmax · 1 year ago
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Blackwell is so photogenic… ( u ͜ u )
I thought I’d scan and share some shots I took around campus!
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