#i feel like once i get through more of the game ill have a better idea of my courier and how they interact with the rest of the mojave ^^;;

[noxlysium]

Why Jean is so important to me

Welcome to my insane ramblings, enjoy your stay (or don't). Most of this is also very self-indulgent, by the way. Warning: Mentions of abuse, alcoholism, mental illness, self-destructive thoughts I'd also like to remind you that this isn't me justifying Jean's behavior in any way, he's a fucking asshole and doesn't know how to handle Harry, or himself. They're both flawed individuals and that's okay. This is just me talking about my own experiences. Now that we got that out of the way, let's get to the actual thing.

I'm not even sure where to start. When I first found out Jean had clinical depression, I immediately felt a connection. It's relatable. Very relatable, in fact. I myself have been depressed for years. It all started at a young age, I was about 13, but due to trauma it could be very much earlier than that. I don't remember much from my childhood because most of it are bad memories. I'm 21 now and still going through a lot of shit, so it's been about 8 years. Jean strikes me as a guy who has been fucked over his entire life, no matter where he goes or what he does. It always comes back to him. After I have finished DE for the first time and looked more into the lore of Jean and Harry, I started to notice the similarities between the relationship with him and Harry, and the relationship with me and my own parents.

I know what alcohol does to people, I've seen it all. And it's not great for either parties. I'm stuck in a repetitive cycle of wanting to help someone to get better, only to realize that they don't want to get better and then I start building hope again. Rinse and repeat. I know I cannot change them. But I keep hoping for a change anyway, and get upset when it never comes. Of course it doesn't. No matter what I've tried. I have tried so many times. I'm a fucking hypocrite because I sometimes drink as well. I don't want to become like them. I drink for fun every once in a while and try to not over-do it, because every time I touch alcohol, something in the back of my mind tells me I'm becoming like my father. I thought about smoking a few times, but I don't want to destroy myself like my mother does. I'm really fucking scared of smoking and its consequences. Which is funny, because I should be as scared when it comes to alcohol, but I'm not. They both drink every day at 3 pm, after work. Every single day.

And it has been like this for years. Nothing has ever changed. A few months ago I had an actual discussion with my parents. We usually never have these sort of conversations (That's the issue, by the way. A very big lack of communication. Does that ring any bells?) and I was actually surprised when they told me they wanted to lay off the alcohol. I tried to approach the topic carefully and even offered them help (therapy etc.) but.. they also didn't want that. They straight up told me they don't need help. Which is really fucking frustrating because I want them to understand that they do, but they don't care.

I know change is really fucking hard and I've been there, but my parents had so many opportunities to change and never took them. Nothing has changed for so many years and I'm tired of it. I'm waiting for a change to happen but I know it's never coming anyway. I'm tired, mad, disappointed. That's how Jean feels about Harry, he just doesn't know how to help him and is an ass about it. And I'm just letting it happen, because there's nothing else I can do. I'm watching them destroy themselves every day and it fucking hurts. Something in me still feels a tiny flame of hope, when in reality that flame is already extinguished. I want people to understand, my father really fucking reminds me of Harry. The emotional abusive, the physical abuse, the alcoholism, the sexist remarks.. It just screams Harry. Especially given with how he had been around people Pre-Martinaise, which I have read in the game inside the damaged ledger. The fact that I love Harry to a certain degree says a lot of things.

The marriage between my parents is like if Dora never left Harry, and it's fucking awful.

-

That is mostly why I can relate to Jean so much. There's also some smaller things and I'll get to those now.

He fucking sucks at feelings. You can see it with the way he's trying to handle Harry, and it's not working.. Which, yeah. I suck at those too.

He likes to hide his sadness underneath a layer of cynicism and sarcasm as a coping method.. I do this all the fucking time.

Let's face it, this man is a fucking nervous wreck. He picks at his facial hair and displays a lot more habits like that, like him fixing his clothes (even though they look clean, according to one of the skills in the game), running his hand through his hair.. I do this without even realizing it.

He's depressed and fucking empty on the inside. He most likely hasn't felt real love from anyone or for himself in years. He needs therapy (lots of it), anti-depressants and a hug.. And I know what that feels like. I know it too well.

Lastly, he's a fucking mess. Like in every single way imaginable.. Again, very relatable.

Jean is such an amazing character for me to project on, to relate to and to find comfort in. I'm glad they made him fucked up, because that's what I love about him. He has so many flaws and I love every single one of them. He's in the game for like 15 minutes or less, but the impact he's had on me is insane. I've had a fair share of characters I would obsess over, but Jean hits different.

I'm so glad Jean-Heron Vicquemare exists, because I wouldn't know where I would be if I never met him. I want to thank my lovely friend (who is not on here, but I'm still saying it because I care about him a lot) for gifting me this amazing game.

And I want to thank you for reading this mess of a post.

If you have made it this far, I want to show you one last thing.

[todayisafridaynight]

through all the practice sawashiro fights ive done this morning ive decided he has a really weird grudge against eri for whatever reason

[charliesinfern0]

HELLO AGAIN CHARLIE!!!!!!! 34, 10, 4, 37, 42 for courier six please!!! trying HARD not to ask too too toooo many but i have been SO super curious how your fnv playthrough is going thus far and what your guy is shaping up to be like in your mind :) [additionally i hope the overstimulation has subsided and you can have a nice relaxing day or night!]

OC Asks

HIIIII ^_^ first, thank you for the kind words, im doing a lot better than i was yesterday :3 and my playthrough has been pretty good so far! last night i was trying to tackle the come fly with me quest, and then i got stuck and read a walkthrough and realized i didnt need to complete that quest in order to get the information i need from manny vargas, which wouldve been nice to know beforehand, those nightkin are beating my ass T_T sooo im gonna make my way outta there and back to novac tonight (maybe after i watch the new dunmeshi ep ^_^)

ok, on to the questions!

4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?

Well right now in game, my courier is wearing the leather armor with a cowboy hat, but in my mind i imagine them wearing the NCR ranger combat armor because thats what ive seen the courier usually drawn as wearing, also its a pretty cool outfit ^_^ i also think they'd wear things like the red handyman jumpsuit and the ranger vest outfit bc theyre also really cool hehe

also bonus doodle i made while thinking of answers for these lol

10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

Pride, or maybe wrath? They do sometimes act a little egotistical, and theyre prone to rage when it comes to dealing with mutant animals and gangs hanging out near the roads in the wasteland (one of their favorite pastimes is standing in the middle of the desert and shooting in a random direction)

34. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

They like to think their home away from home (a home they actually don't remember much of) is Goodsprings, so thats where they come back to the most, just to relax for a while, usually by sitting in the saloon and listening to the radio before hitting the trail again. They just like to help people, though the aren't very graceful when doing so lol. They're sort of a jack of all trades, master of none, and sometimes it was only luck that let them make it out mostly unscathed in some situations.

37. What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?

Walk off 40 bullets to the chest.

42. Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from? 

Obviously they have a scar from when Benny shot them and the following brain surgery, but they also have lots of calluses on their hands, and a scar on their cheek from tripping and scraping themself on a rock (they are known throughout the mojave for many things, including their clumsiness lol)

[arolesbianism]

My birthday is in under a week 👍

[revasserium]

love bites

kenma, tsukki, kageyama, hinata; 2,025 words; fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of hickies, no "y/n", fem!reader, whiney!kageyama, dom!hinata, tsukki being... tsukki, post timeskip!characters

summary: these hickeys like the remnants of our love, footsteps on the sea-soaked sand, a line of demarcation -- here is where our story begins.

a/n: i just rly wanted to write about hq! babes and hickies...

kenma.

the first time it happens, it’s a mistake — a brief moment of vindictiveness manifest in the way he whines and nuzzles into your neck before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into your skin. when you gasp, your head tipping back, kenma pauses, pulling back, his mind already cataloging this very interesting new piece of information for later use, but his eyes have yet to catch up — his body has yet to catch up with the sight of you, cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes slightly glazed over as you stare ruefully up at him, a hand coming up to press over your mouth as you frown.

“w-what was that for?”

kenma hums, sitting back with a pout, “you were the one being unfair.”

you scowl, “how was i being unfair? you lost the game fair and square — the stakes were loser does the dishes.”

kenma sniffs, his nose crinkling at the thought, “but we have a dishwasher — it’s literally in the name —”

“but the nice wine glasses can’t be put through the dishwasher!”

you push yourself up onto your elbows even as kenma slumps back on the sofa, groaning loudly. still, he lets his head slump to one side to stare at the rapidly darkening patch of skin at the junction of your neck and shoulders. there’s something that feels dangerously like desire calcifying in the pit of his stomach and he weighs the pros and cons of leaning forward to give you another good bite.

really, dinner was great, dessert was better but — this.

suddenly, he understands what his teammates had always meant when they’d said they could keep on eating forever, even when their stomachs were full to bursting, even when they thought they’d be ill.

“stupid wine glasses…” he murmurs, leaning forward to prop his chin on your shoulder. you laugh, a soft, breathy thing as you reach out to tug a strand of hair from his low, messy bun.

“but the wine was good, no?”

kenma hums, letting his head loll back and forth, his eyes flickering down once more to the round ring of red now rising against your skin. he allows himself a tiny grin, leaning forward to press a kiss over the tender flesh. he makes note of the way you gasp, soft and expectant, the way your body seems to tense and then go laxed beneath his hands.

“yeah…” he whispers, smirking as he sinks delicate fingers into your hair, gently shifting your head to one side to allow him more access, “guess it was good…”

he presses another kiss to your neck, just slightly below the reddening hickey.

“g-guess? that was — a-an expensive bottle…”

“hmmm…” kenma trails his lips down over your shoulder, tugging lightly at your shirt, the wide collar falling away easily. when he finds yet another patch of unmarred skin, grazing his teeth over it, he feels the way you reach up to fist your fingers in his hair.

“’zume… don’t think you can get out of doing the dishes like this…”

kenma laughs, letting his breath puff out against your skin seconds before he opens his mouth and takes another soft bite. he doesn’t miss the way you whimper this time, doesn’t mistake the hitch in your breath for something like surprise when he knows better — and he knows you best of all.

“not trying to get out of doing it… just… we never specified when the loser has to do the dishes so…” he licks his lips, glancing up at you with a bright, devilish flicker behind his eyes, “i’m just taking my time with the meal. nothing wrong with that, right?”

tsukki.

it is a normal thing, for you to wake up in the morning and find remnants of the night before scattered across your skin like sand dollars littered upon a stretch of beloved beach. and tsukishima is never apologetic — ever.

if anything, he looks upon his work with pride, smirking as you tug at the collar of your shirt, tutting.

“tsukki… i told you not to bite so hard…”

“hmm… sorry, i must’ve forgotten,” he props a cheek on his hand, peering at you over his glasses, his tone the farthest thing from apologetic, “heat of the moment and all.”

you shoot him a reproachful look in the mirror and watch as his grin widens ever so slightly.

“the girls are the museum are gonna have a field day with this.”

tsukishima shrugs, slumping back into the bed with a loud, long sigh.

“dunno why girls have such a weird fixation on other people’s boyfriends. ‘s not like it’s any of their business.”

you tug listlessly at the collar of your button up shirt, resigned to the fact that you’ll never be able to hide the marks properly as you heave another sigh.

“it’s just how we communicate — it’s like… how guys sometimes just need to like… punch it out — or whatever.”

“or whatever?” tsukishima almost chortles, rolling over onto his stomach again. your schedules at the museum only overlap 2 days a week, and the rest of the days, either he’s off or you are. it’s a miracle the pair of you were able to meet in the first place, let alone hit it off like you did.

“yeah. i don’t know how guys communicate,” you say, even as tsukishima swings out of bed to come up behind you, looping his arms around your middle.

“we… don’t, really,” he admits, in a customary deadpan, propping his chin on the top of your head with obscene ease. you frown up at him, tilting your head back till it hits the middle of his chest.

“you’re gonna make me late again.”

“so?”

“so — unless you want me to get fired —”

“they’re not gonna fire you. you’re too good at… cataloging maps, or whatever it is you guys do in the cartography department.”

tsukishima spins you around his arms, pressing you lightly back against the mirror. he considers you for a moment, with eyes just sharp enough to pass for academic interest, but you see the darkness misting its depths, the pressure in his fingertips as he leans in to seal his lips over yours in a kiss that could only be called searing.

you break away gasping, only to feel his lips trail fire down your neck seconds before —

“t-tsukki — !”

he pulls back with a satisfied smirk; you can feel yet another bruise blooming along your skin.

“there. one more thing for you and your girlfriends to bond over, hm?”

kageyama.

it is a deliberate thing, the first time. but kageyama remembers the strange gravity, the tug just behind his navel, the persistent itch of curiosity as he leans forward to sink his teeth into your skin.

he likes the way you hiss, the way you go soft in his arms, the pair of you already a pile of tangled limbs on the massive sectional in the living room, the lights dimmed, half a bottle of red wine yet un-drunk on the coffee table.

“tobio… what —”

he hums, burying his face in your shoulder, fingers digging into your sides.

“… something i wanted to try…”

“hm?” you gently card your fingers through his hair, quirking your head to one side.

“it’s just —” he pulls back, a deep blush prickling his cheeks as he looks anywhere but at you, “something… i’ve wanted to try. for — a while,” he admits, looking shockingly small for a internationally renowned volleyball player, hunched over on the couch like this, his lips stained dark with wine.

you giggle, leaning up to tilt his chin back towards yours.

“sure. you can try whatever you want.”

you lay back, stretching out beneath him, pliant and willing, and kageyama goes still for a solid four seconds before he narrows his eyes, an un-namable hunger clawing at his insides as he pulls you beneath him and groans into your skin.

he likes the way the colors seep the surface of your skin, likes the way it’s so obvious against the bright of your collarbones. he spends all of the following day in an intoxicatingly good mood, to the point where his teammates are understandable suspicious. but he just tells them he slept well, that he had a good dinner last night, that wine was really, really delicious.

and that thanks for the recommendation.

hinata.

brazil has changed him, in more ways than you can count, but at the same time, in some ways, he is just, just the same.

“s-shou-you!”

“mmm —” he whines sucking a deep hickey into the junction of your neck, his pupils blown wide as he pulls back, lips split into a too-pleased grin, “what is it? did i hurt you?”

there’s the barest hint of a tease in his voice, and anyone else might’ve thought he’s completely serious, that he’s actually worried. and in a sense, he is — he’d never want to actually hurt you. but he also knows that — to a certain degree, you revel in this kind of pain.

you chew on your bottom lip, shaking your head.

“no… it’s — it’s okay.”

“yeah?” he sounds entirely too happy with himself as he reaches forward to thumb at the damp spot on your skin, “ah… that one’ll be pretty. just like you!”

he laughs, his joy so pure and infectious that it makes you blush. you look away.

“shou…?”

“hm? what is it, pretty girl?”

he bends back down to press a light kiss to your collarbone, peaking up at you with those would-be innocent eyes.

“don’t… don’t tease me.”

hinata laughs, that self-same, joyous sound.

“but i like teasing you!” he says, with no hint of malice, not a single sliver of shame.

you can only cover your eyes with your arm, turning your head away.

“aww, don’t do that —” he says, coaxing your hand away before pinning both of them above your head with a single, fluid move. your breath hitches.

“don’t hide from me…”

it’s too much to hope for that someone with eyes like his would miss such a thing. you watch as the dark, lightless centers of his eyes grow ever so slightly larger, threatening to overtake the honeyed ring of his actual iris.

“can’t… can’t help it…” you look away, feeling the waves of indomitable heat, wave after wave, washing through you, collecting at the base of your stomach to twist into something deeper, something harder.

“can’t help what, hm?” hinata laces your fingers with his; distinctly, you can feel his thighs flex on either side of your legs, locking you in place. the summers are hot in rio, but you can’t help but wonder if more than half the heat in the room might be coming from the pair of you alone.

all around him, the air wavers like a reflection in pond-water —

“shou… just —” you lick your lips.

“ah…” there’s a soft whine curling at the edge of his voice as he leans down, “you’re not playing fair at all…”

desire pulses like a heartbeat inside you.

“shouyou, please,” you beg, trying to wrest some semblance of control back from him but he’s having none of it. he pins your hands to either side of your head, his bed more than wide enough for the pair of you, with room to spare.

“mah… you gotta be a bit more specific than that,” he says, his voice almost casual as he noses into your pulse point right beneath your jaw. you hold your breath and a second later, the harsh sting of his teeth rakes through you, chasing pleasure down your spine.

“m-more —” you choke out the word against the heat of his lips and you feel rather than see him grin above you.

“yeah? i think i can do that for you.”

[paigesfuturewifey]

authors note! this is my first fic on here and i’m scared cause some of yall writers are SO GOOD ITS INTIMIDATING don’t judge too harshly ill get better i promise also this is short SORRY

“fuck!” you groaned loudly, dribbling the ball once more before bouncing it over to the ref.

this was your second foul of the night, and you were starting to think these refs were good for nothing.

the sound of paige bueckers clapping her hands obnoxiously loud only further heightened your frustration, taking the hem of your jersey and wiping your mouth.

“can’t keep up?” paige brushed her front up against your back as one of her teammates went to take the out-of-bounds ball.

you laughed dryly and turned to her, gesturing up. “look at the scoreboard, bueckers. you’re down by six.” you held your arms up, trying to create a barrier between paige and aaliyah but ended up grunting when paige got the ball, taking a step back and letting the ball fly.

“three.” she corrected the score with a smirk as she ran backwards to get back on defense. you huffed, getting the ball from your teammate and dribbling it down the court.

you looked the court over once, wetting your lips as you visualized the play you wanted to run in your head, the corner of your lips lifting.

paige makes sure to stay in front of you, but you took a jab step, as if she were going to drive forward, but mimicking paige earlier, you took a step back and let the ball fly.

paige jumped up, reaching up to try and block it but it was already gone and swishing through the net, making the crowd erupt in cheers. “can’t keep up?” you re-quoted her, holding up a three in the air as you jogged back to the other side of the court.

this is how the rest of the game remained, the two of you exchanging baskets and throwing insults at each other that only fueled the other more and more. and the fans absolutely ate it up.

somehow, somewhere along the lines, uconn ended up being up by a point with less than a minute left in the fourth, and that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

the timeout was called by Geno, and you made your way over to your teammates.

“bueckers, they’ve been letting l/n handle the ball all game. i need you to start playing hard man-to-man defense on her. we cannot afford to lose this lead, got it?”

“yeah, i gotchu.” paige nodded, squeezing the gatorade bottle into her mouth.

the two teams made their way back onto the court, and like you expected, paige was on your ass like she had been all game.

she was guarding you closely to the point where you could feel her abs press into your arm through her jersey. ignoring the heat that shot through you, this made you smile in amusement, looking over at how close she was in proximity to you.

you pressed your shoulder against her, trying to create space between you two, “nervous?” paige had the audacity to ask, earning a scoff from you.

“i don’t see anything to be nervous over.” you glanced her up and down, waiting for the ref to give your teammate the ball to throw in. “maybe,” you turned your entire body to her, “if you were nika muhl..” you could see how your words caused her to tense slightly, “or azzi fudd,” you whispered, leaning slightly forward to speak in her ear, “or kk arnold.”

paige’s jaw clenched, shaking her head. she couldn’t help the humorless laugh that escaped her lips, giving you credit where it was due. you were playing mind games, and you had her right where you wanted her. “fuck outta here and fuck you.” she muttered lowly.

you smiled sadistically, “do it yourself, bueckers.” you responded in the same low tone, and you watched as paige’s eyes darkened visually.

you smirked.

in the next millisecond, you were passed the ball, and it took paige two seconds slower than it normally would have for her to react. those two seconds was all you needed to dribble the ball down the court, passing it to your teammate who was open at the corner of the court. she let it fly, scoring the three just in time for the buzzer to loudly ring throughout the entire arena.

cheers roared throughout the crowd and you went to celebrate the win with your teammates, exchanging a hug with a few of the members of uconn.

you walked down the line as you high-fived the uconn team, though you noticed paige lingering around a little long. you narrowed your eyes, arching a brow when she spotted you.

when you guys got to each other, she held your hand in place, pulling you slightly away from everyone. “here’s what’s gonna happen next, you listening?” she looked into your eyes, waiting for a response.

all you could do was nod meekly. she nodded at your nod, licking her lips before she leaned into your ear like you’d done earlier. “the next time i see you, it’s gonna be in my hotel room, and you better hope your ready for me, l/n.”

[jasperxkuromi]

Play ideas for chronically ill, disabled, or otherwise bed bound/low energy littles

Hi all! I am chronically ill. I am not comfortable sharing my specific diagnosis, but I am more than okay with talking about disability in general. Everything below is based on my own personal experiences and activities I like to do while stuck in bed. Everyone's body and experiences are different. I may list some things that just aren't an option for you, and that's okay. You are more than welcome to add on to this post with activities you do too!

🐛 Open the curtains and cloud watch! I like to look for clouds that remind me of animals or characters and day dream a story about them. If the weather is nice, consider opening your window a little bit and letting some fresh air into your room.

🐦 Bird watch! I have a bird feeder outside my window that I painted myself from a kid's kit. There are also bird feeders that have suction cups that can be stuck right on your window. You can also make your own seed ornaments. You could pick yourself up a kids book or two on learning to identify birds.

🌷 Get a window planter. You may need someone's help to set one up, but once they are in place they are fairly easy to care for. I like pansies and marigolds because they remind me of childhood, and they are low maintenance and do well in containers.

📖 Audiobooks are great for middles who want to read chapter books. If you have a library card you can borrow tons of audiobook, ebooks, and comics through hoopla and Libby for free. There are some audiobooks for younger kiddo books, but honestly I think YouTube is better for that.

🖼️ Scrapbooks and journals! Being penpals with another little is also an option, but I do recommend using basic internet safety and common sense. (I don't think you should do this if you are under 18). You could always scan/take pictures of your letter and send it digitally to your penpal instead.

🛏️ If you spend a lot of time in bed, and have the money to do so, I really recommend getting items to make your time in bed more comfortable. Extra pillows, or even a reading pillow can be helpful. Lap desks or bed tables can give you space to color or set up play scenes with small toys.

🌟 You can also decorate the area around your bed to make it more child like! Fairy lights, glow in the dark stars, bed canopies, posters, and the like.

🪑 I have a floor chair I use for times I am playing outside of my bed. Being close to the floor helps me feel small, but not having back support hurts after a short while. I have an adjustable one that I can lay flat on the floor as a sleeping mat. Very helpful for the times when I need a quick nap after playtime.

🎨 Check the seasonal and kids sections at dollar stores and Five Below. I usually find fun craft kits that can keep me occupied for a bit for really cheap.

🧶 Do your own crafts! I like the knit and crochet. Some people can do them in bed, but I find it difficult to find a comfortable way to do that. However making friendship bracelets in bed works out pretty well. They make great gifts, even for non little friends. Or you could make matching ones for you and your CG or favorite plushie!

🪀 Make your own sensory bin! You can find tons of tutorials and ideas online. Bonus is you can get most of the items you would use at the dollar store. There are tons of other DIY sensory toys you can make as well if you look around. Glitter/shaker bottles are pretty popular too.

🐇 Cuddle with your stuffed animals. Tell them stories. Play pretend. Read to them. They will appreciate all of it.

🎮 If you have an old 3DS stuffed away in a drawer somewhere, pull it back out. 3DS are fairly easy to install homebrew and there are toooons of kiddo friendly games you could get (check 3ds.hacks.guide for this, do not follow tutorials on YouTube or random websites as they very well could be outdated)

💊 Decorate your medicine organizers with stickers. If you use mobility aids you can decorate them as well! Fake flowers are great for decorating mobility aids and there are tons of ideas you can find online.

🍼 I have stomach problems that makes it hard for me to eat enough. I often drink Ensure to make sure I am getting enough calories/nutrients. I get the strawberry flavor and sometimes put it in my sippy cup and pretend it is strawberry milk 😋

😴 If you need rest, rest! You deserve to get as much sleep as your body needs. Babies and toddlers take naps all the time! Trying to just exist with chronic health issues is difficult enough. You don't need to push yourself.

[parkersgnome]

⭐️Mima Rants⭐️

I remember coming across slideshow on tik tok this about a year ago, and even *I* (as someone who used to be grossed out by proshipping) thought was ridiculous…

This is the title of the slideshow.

Just a heads up guys, just like our favorite ships, None of these stories are real.

And if they were based on actual events, wouldn’t it make more sense to make a video about that instead of making up shit that never happened?

But, Let’s go through each of these as if they were real stories, shall we?

First one

“Caleb uses the internet to deal with his trauma”, Alright, I’m gonna stop you right there.

Isn’t “Staying off the internet is beneficial for your mental health” something we learned in, idk, fucking grade school? Cyber safety PSAs in middle school? Something that dozens of people have screeched from the top of their lungs since social media was invented?

Who the heck told him that being on the internet was going to help with his trauma and improve his mental health???

His feelings are valid, I get that. He has every right to be disturbed by Sage’s writings and fantasies. However, it seems that Sage isn't encouraging these actions in real life and keeps them strictly within fiction. As long as it’s in text or art, Sage has every right to express his fantasies.

Anyways, Caleb should seek a better therapist who can teach him better coping mechanisms like going out for walks, yoga, baking, or some other fourth thing instead of browsing social media where there’s a good chance he can run into something that makes him uncomfortable.

Next one…

“Jackie is 10-”

Yeah no no no no no no.. no… NO.

10-years-old. That’s, like, what? 4th grade? Shouldn’t Jackie be watching cartoons, playing with toys, or better yet, playing outside? Why did her parents give her internet access? Why aren’t they monitoring what their elementary schooled daughter is watching online?

If Charlie was going out of her way to promote this to minors then I would say she’s in the wrong, but this story never implies whether her content was specifically targeted to and/or letting minors come on to her account.

I've never seen proshippers create accounts specifically targeting children. If Charlie makes it clear her content isn't for kids, then it's not her fault if some random little girl she doesn’t know ends up consuming it.

If Jackie started to think this was normal, then it is her parent’s fault for neglecting her online safety and allowing her to access adult-targeted content at an age when media literacy is at an all time low.

The last one

“dEGenErates LiKE hiM 🤓” 💀💀

Once again, unless you can present to me a REAL LIFE incest/pedophilia case where proshipping was involved, this is not a valid argument that fiction affects reality.

Alas, we're treating these stories as if they were real. If Trey feels compelled to SA his sister after seeing writings or drawings of problematic ships, this suggests he’s likely an untreated mentally ill individual, especially since he can't differentiate fiction from reality.

What? If Trey played GTA V and started shooting and robbing a bank because he wanted to be like Trevor Phillips, should we consider banning violent video games?

As proshippers, we do not endorse real-life criminals and genuinely terrible people. The essence of proshipping is that all negative or degenerate actions should be confined to fiction. Understand?

End of discussion.

Anyway, as ridiculous as that slideshow was, please refrain from harassing or bothering the artist who made it. They have the same freedom of speech we do, and stooping to harassment and bullying wouldn't make us any better than antis who promote such behavior.

[chailovesu]

Random things u can add to your script if you are manifesting being famous

i think ima separate this into careers

model:

being on the cover of magazines

always knowing when a camera is on you + never have awkward pictures get popular

being considered one of the best new gen models and one of the best of all time

being signed to desired company

being the muse of a very famous designer

very photogenic/videogenic

have an iconic walk that everyone loves

you could be wearing something absolutely hideous but make it look good

singer/rapper:

every single song u make blows up on every platform

kind of rapper/singer that once u feature on a song its ur song now

if u cover a song the cover gets more famous bc it sounds better

popular dance trend being made to your songs

immunity to getting sued for copying a song

perfect stage presence

be able to dance and sing/rap at the same time

constantly be nominated for awards and win

any song u make constantly goes platinum and charts for months

having a song featured in a popular tv show/movie

be good at taking selcas and they always go viral on pinterest

easily hit high notes

unreleased music never gets leaked

being talented on a beyonce level

be invited to perform at places like the superbowl and coachella

be able to write ur own songs with unique lyrics

game streamer:

clips of u playing always go viral

have a connection with your subscribers + be everyones comfort streamer but not in a forced way

be really good at the games u play effortlessly and look good while playing

having merch that always get sold out

being seen as the main streamer for desired games

be entertaining to watch + funny things always happen on stream

subscribers always donate alot of money and give you gifts

collab with other famous streamers + everyone enjoys playing with you

have access to unreleased games early

have partnerships with really big brands

be gifted free games often by companies for promotions

people know u by face AND voice

if u wanna be a faceless streamer at first your face reveal blows up (in a good way not the dream way) and ur subscribers double bc of it

actor/actress:

being fancasted for your favorite cartoon character so much that u act in the live action version of it

always get paid a lot for your roles

have chemistry with your co-workers

be good at all type of acting (voice acting too)

easily attract roles

never get hate for the roles u act

always get awards for your acting

easily be able to do things like cry on command + be able to make your audience feel the emotion through the screen

be a very versatile actor like your range is crazy

applies to all:

seeing edits of yourself by talented editors often

pristine reputation + never being canceled

being that one celebrity that everyone defends like their life depends on it

Immunity to weird ppl finding out abt u

being likable in general any hate you receive just feels so forced

being alot of celebrities ideal type

being everyones celebrity crush

never having your xxxx exposed (or revise never taking any)

eye contact with u makes interviewers nervous like that one jhene aiko clip

people from your past only have good things to say + other celebrities love meeting you and only have good impressions of you

this one applies to acting and singing and modeling but being a highly sought-after person in that field

a fortnite skin? or being featured in your favorite game

still being safe going in public alone + fans respect your privacy

and if ur manifesting being a nepo baby

everyone supports you

in your childhood u were featured in alot of movies/shows (or just in the spotlight often) so people feel like they watched you grow up and adore u

being more famous than your parents + people feel like even if ur parents weren't famous u still would've gotten famous

having famous childhood friends

if i think of more ideas or careers ill make a pt2 but thats probably unlikely idk yet

[enwoso]

grumpy universe where alessia gets sick and the girls step in to babysit and get her better

I’M OKAY — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

it was tough being ill while having a child as long go the days where you could lie in bed all day with a bottle of ice cold water at your side as you slept the day away.

as instead alessia had not only herself to nurse back to full health but also had to still be a mother. almost like a superhero, be two things at once.

alessia had been feeling awful the past few days days,

she's gotten ill. her throat has never felt rougher and her head felt as though she was bashing it against a wall and her nose was blocked to the point she was having a hard time breathing through it.

and while she wished she could tucked up in bed. she couldn't.

not when she had a four year old running with buckets of energy all day which was definitely not helping alessia's pounding headache she’s had the past couple of days.

but alessia couldn't in no way fault you, your bundle of energy was actually slightly helping put a smile on the blondes face even though she felt rubbish.

"you ready lovie" alessia smiled as the two of you walked towards the training ground. your mummy trying to sound as enthusiastic as she could trying her best to put her illness to the back of her mind.

"yes! katie said she would play my game with me" you giggled as you kept ahold of your mummy's hand, you were talking about a children's card game which luca had gotten you and while the team was finishing up lunch you had spent the time explaining the game to katie who sounded genuinely very intrigued at the game you'd explained.

"oh that sound fun! don't let her beat you" your mummy grinned as your eyebrows furrowed as you firmly shook your head.

"never, nobody beat me at it" you stated proudly, as alessia hummed opening the door for you to walk in first. and to be fair to you, when you'd played the game with your uncles and your mummy you hadn't lost, but maybe that was because they didn't want to see your crushed little face if you lost.

walking into the canteen where most girls were having breakfast, you made a beeline straight for katie who was sat down with caitlin, teyah and beth. "katie, i got my game!" you called out.

alessia just let you make your run towards katie as truthfully she didn't have the energy in her to call you back over even though it was barely past nine am.

alessia slotted herself down on the next closest table, not looking who was there instead just sitting down. emily, lotte and leah who were sat at the table all looked at each other with a knowing look.

alessia was sat with her head in her hands, the bright lights were making her head pound even more and her throat felt as dry as a desert.

"less are you okay?" lotte asked with a wince, the three girls could clearly see something was up.

"yep!" alessia mumbled popping out the p as she sniffled, before a series of coughs came from the blonde. the sound of alessia's voice and the coughs coming from her totally contradicting what she'd just said.

"you sound sick?" emily said trying the more direct way as her eyebrows raised, worried for her fellow teammate but also her close friend.

"i'll be fine, y/n is my main focus" alessia grumbled as the blondes head turned to your direction seeing you smiling and playing your game with katie contently, teyah and beth even having a turn.

"less- i know tiny is important but you need to make sure your looking after your own health" leah told the blonde as alessia just waved her off another sniffle coming as she had a sip of water.

"no alessia im being serious, your a mess. i think you need to go home and spend the day in bed otherwise your not gonna be able to play properly" leah spoke in her serious tone which told alessia that leah was most definitely being serious.

alessia glanced over to lotte and emily who both had the same telling look while a sympathetic smile that told the blonde exactly what she needed to do and that was take leah's advice.

"but what about y/n?" alessia quickly got out but leah quickly came up with a solution.

"she can stay at mine" leah shrugged, you had stayed at leah's before so alessia knew she could trust leah but alessia didn't like you staying out especially when it wasn't exactly necessary.

"but-"

"alessia no more buts. you need to go home, make a full recovery, tiny can stay with me for the night if she wants, beth and viv are coming over to mine later anyway so you don't need to worry about her living off chicken nuggets" leah reassured as a deep sigh of defeat came from alessia as she nodded.

"sorted then!"

"lovie" alessia called you over, motioning with her hands as you looked towards katie, teyah and beth giving them strict orders to not touch the game otherwise that would be cheating as you slipped down from the table and made your way towards your mummy with a sweet smile on your face.

"lovie, mummy's going home now. but you gonna stay here with your aunties okay" your mummy told you as you nodded slowly, but you were slightly confused.

"why you going home?" you asked, holding onto the edge of the table as you swung your leg back and forth.

"cause mummy's poorly, and i feel really really sick" alessia pouted as you nodded understandingly as your mummy began to speak again.

"how would you feel staying at auntie lele's house tonight?" mummy asked cautiously, not wanting you to feel as though you had to but by the change in your face and the look of excitement in your smile, alessia had her answer.

"yes! yes! yes!"

"but you have to be on your best behaviour for leah and do as she tells you, just like you do for me okay" your mummy told you as you nodded your head promising your mummy.

"your always on your best behaviour aren't you tiny!" leah ruffled your head as you turned to nod at the blonde who had a big grin on her face.

"right, well mummy loves you and i'll see you tomorrow yeah" your mummy smiled as you hugged her tight before alessia placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as you said goodbye to your mummy.

"less call if you need anything" lotte smiled as alessia nodded, wincing slightly as she stood her headache still not easing. you waving goodbye while blowing kisses as she left the training ground.

"lele can we have chocolate pizza for dinner tonight?" you asked with an innocent smile now that your mum wasn't in the room anymore.

you knowing all to well that your mummy wouldn't ever in a million years let you have that for dinner, so why not try your luck somewhere else and after all at least that would have less room for mistake considering leah wasn't the best in a kitchen setting.

"aye let's not push our luck tiny!" leah laughed before you sighed taking that as a no before remembering about your game with katie.

[wosoamazing]

Nursery & Sickness

Summary: You don't want to go to nursery. You also get sick from Nursery, making your Mum sick too. Based off this request.

Warnings: Sickness (Vomiting)

A/N: I was kind of stumped on what to write so of course I turned it into a sickfic - I hope that is okay. I promise I am trying to write things other than sickfics, some of your requests are definitely helping with that.

You didn't want to go to Nursery, you wanted to go to training as you always did, but you didn't understand why you couldn’t. Once you realised your Mum was leading you in the direction of your nursery you planted your feet firmly on the ground, refusing to walk, she just picked you up, not budging at your actions.

As she placed you down in your room, you started to cry, you didn't want to leave her side. “I’ve got to go to training Bubba, so you’re going to spend the day here, and I’ll be back to pick you up as soon as training is over”

“No, I come training with you”

“But Bubba you can’t, it's better for you to go to Nursery, and you can still come to games, I promise I will be back to pick you up.”

“No go,” you sobbed.

“I have to, what if we read a book together before I go?” You sadly nodded your head and went over to pick a book, while you Mum sat crossed legged on the floor. You chose a book and walked over to her, before walking backwards into her lap and sitting down, she read you the book and you calmed down, enough so that she didn’t feel guilty to leave you. 

_

When she came back to pick you up, you had a huge grin on your face and you were in the middle of a painting activity, you didn't want to leave. So she helped you finish your painting before you both went home, in the car you told her about your amazing day. She was relieved that you had enjoyed, so much so that you asked when you were getting to go back

_____

Leah expected you to be sad and upset the first time she took you to Nursery, but what she didn’t expect was that you would have a new illness every week, the experienced nursery parents told her that this was normal, and would happen for roughly 2 or 3 months than you would just get like the seasonal flu, and if you moved Nurseries it would happen all over again, Leah took a mental note of that and promised herself she would not move you to a different Nursery. Heaps of the more experienced parents told her that this would happen for the first 2 or 3 months than you would be fine, so she just had to get through it.

_____

Today was game day, which you were excited for, it meant you didn’t have to go to Nursery, however you felt funny, your head kind of hurt and your tummy felt icky, but you didn’t tell your Mum, you didn’t want her to make you stay home.

You slept in the car on the way to the game, which wasn’t a rare occurrence, considering it was a late game. When you were offered your snacks to eat before the game started you shook your head, which your Mum found odd as it was an offer you would always jump at. You fell asleep very quickly into the first half and slept the whole way through the game. Only waking up when Katie turned on the TV to see the men play as she waited for Caitlin to finish getting ready. The loud noise of the fans cheering through the TV radiated through your head and you started crying.

“What’s wrong Bubba?” Your Mum asked, snapping her fingers in Katie’s direction, who quickly turned down the volume.

“Icky,” you cried out.

“Oh Bubba, do you feel sick?” she asked as she felt your forehead, which was quite warm. You nodded in reply.

“Okay, well I’ll just get our stuff all packed up and then we can go okay, I love you,” she said, placing a kiss on your forehead. She was walking around the locker room, gathering all your things when the sound of liquid spilling onto the floor echoed around the locker room. She quickly spun around to see you covered in vomit, with a puddle of vomit in front of you. She quickly moved over to you and moved you out of the way of your puddle of vomit, tears started to roll down your cheeks, as she went to look over to Katie to ask something, but Katie had already left the room and there is no one else in the room, they all have already left or the ones that remain are in the showers.

Your Mum takes off your Shirt and Shorts, and uses a wet wipe to wipe your hands and face, before she starts getting you changed into your spare clothes. As she is smoothing down your hair that was messed up by your shirt, you gag, she looks around the room panicked trying to figure out what she can grab, when she sees Katie walk in who quickly chucks her a sick bowl. She places the sick bowl under your chin just in time as you start throwing up again. Caitlin, Steph, Lia and Kim have all now finished their showers and walk into the room, to see the absolute scene in front of them. Your Mum is kneeling beside you rubbing your back as you throw up into the sick bowl she is holding for you, there is a puddle of vomit nearby and a bag with your vomit cover clothes in it, sitting near you, that has yet to be tied up. 

“Do you need any help Leah?” Kim asks.

“No, no it’s all good, you guys just go, have a good night,” Leah responds, they all quickly gather their things and head out, except for one, who is rushing around behind your Mum, gathering all your belongings. She has finished packing all three of your bags and walks over to where the bag with your dirty clothes sits, your Mum jumps slightly not realising there was still someone in the room with her, she looks up to find it is Lia, her heart melting slightly at the kindness of her best friend.

“Lia, you really didn't need to stay behind,” she looks behind her, “Or pack up any of our stuff.”

“Don’t be silly Leah, I’ll just take these things out to the car and then I’ll come back for you and Y/N/N, and before you say you are fine to drive home, we drove here together.” Your Mum’s face cringed, she had totally forgotten that.

When Lia came back in you were sitting in your Mum’s lap, as she held you close, rocking you backwards and forwards.

“Le,” Lia said softly, your Mum looked up, “I’m ready when you are.” Your Mum got up and headed to the car, you threw up a lot more that night. The worst being when you had just gotten home, you were in your Mum’s arms, meaning it was all over you and her.

____

It had been a day since you last threw up, but you still felt icky so you were sleeping in your Mum’s bed, between her and Lia. Lia had insisted she stayed to help look after you.

“Fuck, Lia, can you hand me a sick bowl?” Your Mum asked.

“Yeah, but why, Y/N/N is asleep. Or have your Mum senses started tingling,” Lia joked as she handed the sick bowl to your Mum, who lent her head back against the headboard and closed her eyes, taking some deep breaths, Lia quickly clicked on to what was happening. She carefully and gently picked you up and quickly walked to your room, knowing Leah would be more comfortable if you weren’t there, she placed you on your bed before returning to the room. She climbed into the bed and sat next to your Mum, placing her hand on your Mum’s thigh, gently reassuring her, knowing that your Mum wouldn't want much physical touch currently. They remained like that for a few minutes before your Mum’s upper body jerked forward and she lost the contents of her stomach into the sick bowl, Lia rubbed her back whilst she softly spoke reassuring words to her.

____

You awoke in your bed feeling much better, but you wanted your Mum so you decided to toddle off down the hall and into her room, you saw her with Lia in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet as Lia rubbed her back, you walked into the bathroom.

“Mummy?” You questioned, slightly worried.

“Mummy is sick, I think she got your sick. Are you feeling better?" you nodded your head, "Thats good," Lia said before she moved her free hand to your Mums shoulder and gently squeezed it, your Mum shook her head slightly and Lia murmured a quiet 'okay' before she turned her gaze back to you. "Why don’t you go out to the living room and I’ll join you in a sec,” you nodded and toddled off.

[pouringmyheartoutforpaper]

this is for the girlies (or anyone) that sometimes forget to eat or drink for a while until they feel really sick, and need a personal stevie to force feed them sandwiches.

robin and eds had just left steve’s house, leaving you both there alone. and once you told them goodbye you were hit with a wave of nausea, along with a crippling headache. you staggered into steves kitchen whilst he was cleaning up the board game in the living room and leaned over the sink. trying to breathe deeply in the hopes it would make you feel less like you were going to pass out. steve came in, and was going to pick you up and spin you in his arms when he saw your position.

“baby, whats wrong? you okay? what happened?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

you turn around to answer him, but you don’t feel like you are able to form words. thankfully, steve can tell enough by how pale you look, like all the color has drained from your body.

“jesus christ baby, woah, sit-sit down” he said, picking you up and placing you onto the kitchen island.

your head felt heavier now, and you slumped over onto his shoulder. he attempted to ask you more questions, to which he only received a whimper from you. he needed to get you water but he couldn’t leave you unsupported, so he carried you into the living room and lowered you onto the couch.

“ill be right back, babydoll.” he said, mostly to himself before he performed the quickest water-run known to man. coming back and propping you up slightly and putting the straw you your lips, “drink.”

you did as you were told, and after sucking on the straw and lazily staring at him until the entire glass was empty, you took a deep breath.

“what the hell was that, baby? what happened?” he asked softly.

“i dunno, jus’ don’ feel good” you replied.

“yeah? what have you eaten today?” he asked.

you stared at him as you recalled your day. and slowly he watched your eyes turn from contemplation to guilt.

“baby,” he warned, “what have you eaten today.”

you sunk into the sofa behind you.

“i forgot, stevie.” you frowned at him, and he sighed.

“have you had any water?”

“you just gave me some!”

“i mean before that, doofus.”

you shook your head no, pouting moodily at him and lying back onto the couch. you felt tears well up in your eyes, everything seemed to be much bigger than it was. you were very embarrassed; and in your hungry, dehydrated brain, steve was very disappointed in you, and could not believe his girlfriend was so stupid as to forget to eat or drink. this was obviously very much not the case, and steve did not think that about you. as the flood came, you attempted to hide it, but he tool your hands and began soothing you instantly.

“hey, hey, look, its okay. you’re okay. shh.” he brushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “need you to lie down while I get you somethin’ to eat, okay? youre probably tired too, honey.”

you nodded tearily, and let him lie you back down. he went into the kitchen and made you a nice toasted sandwich just the way you like it, with a glass of water and a coke. he came back and sat next to you, giving you the food and setting the drinks onto the coffee table. you ate quickly, and were more than halfway through your sandwich when you looked up at him and realized how much better you felt. he raised his eyebrows at you, and you giggled.

“you feel better?” he asked. which only reduced you into a fit of more giggles. he shook his head and pulled you into his lap, whispering into your ear, “you drive me crazy, lady.” he laughed. “your hangry-ness needs to be psychologically evaluated.”

you stuck your tongue out at him and finished your meal before turning back around to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your noses together.

“i’m sorry, thank you stevie.” you said, and kissed him softly.

“it’s okay lovey,” he took your hand into his, “no big deal, just gotta remember to eat, goofball.” he replied.

“why’d i do that when i have a perfectly good personal chef and doctor here?” you said, receiving an eye roll.

“alright sleeping beauty, lets get you a nap. and then all your needs will be full.” he said, taking your hand and guiding you into hie bedroom.

“well… not all of them.”

you received yet another eye roll, but this time it was accompanied by a deep scarlet blush.

[sincere1ystar]

Love’s Last Breath

finnick odair x fem! reader

When an illness comes to threaten the bond you have with Finnick, he proves that he’ll still love you in sickness and in health.

Even though Finnick seemed composed to others, he had a certain type of anger to him. It was the type of anger that ran through his blood and made a home in the vessel that keeps him alive. It’s always felt like a fire to him, not the kind that keeps you warm but the kind that will burn you into ashes. He outlived most of his peers for what? To get to this point? After all he’s went through during the games and being a victor, he can’t help but let it all engulf him.

If he only had one word to describe your presence he would pick ethereal. It fit you perfectly as you brought him peace that he’s never felt before. And once he felt it once he couldn’t fathom going without it? How could he? You blew out his inner fire within him and took care of all his burns. His insides were no longer filled with anguish as your love made a home in the place where it once resided.

So when you caught some mysterious illness, he goes straight back into that state of terror he was constantly in before she met you. Having ill health had nothing to do with man, it was all nature. He couldn’t make it go away in the usual ways he did and that terrified him. Even after building a strong persona for himself by being a victor, Finnick was just a man. And a man against nature has no chance, a message drilled into his head after seeing it in the games. Surviving during the games was his one chance that nature gave him. If he knew what the future would hold he would have held onto that chance and save it for later.

When Finnick opens the door to your hospital room your head is pounding and your whole body feels clammy and damp. You curse yourself for taking it for granted for when you didn’t have dozens of tubes in your arms as you watch the fan on the ceiling spin, it’s the only thing you can do with your lack of energy.

If you were able to you would have teased Finnick when he barges in with a worried expression on his face, but alas you were too weak to do anything but greet him with a small smile.

He greets you with a kiss on your forehead, to which you immediately retreated and tried to back away.

“What’re you doing? Are you crazy?! Don’t do that you’ll get sick”, you say worriedly.

“I was just checkin’ your temperature”, Finnick murmurs into your hairline before he gives you another kiss on your forehead. He can’t help but chuckle at you worrying over his wellbeing as if he was the sick one.

“Well next time use a thermometer”, you mutter playfully in response.

“Nah I don’t think I will”, he whispers to soothe your pounding head , “Think I like this way more… it’s more effective”.

You laugh weakly at his response. Your eyes can barely stay open, but you try your best for his sake. “He certainly didn’t come all this way to watch you rest”, you note to yourself.

But of course he notices the way your eyes seem to be weighing down. He notices the way you have trouble carrying yourself, even though you’re sitting up against a hospital bed. And of course he notices that your glow is gone, snatched away from you despite how hard your grip on it was.

“Rest now”, he murmurs softly, “I’m right here”. He holds his hand in yours to reassure you he isn’t leaving your side.

You’re about to protest when he climbs into the hospital bed with you. The bed was small to begin with so he must be cramped, but still he doesn’t complain as he wraps his arms around you. “Is that better now?”

You nod as you slowly start to fall asleep too weak to do anything else. Finnick doesn’t sleep much, his mind too worried to shut off for the night. He spends most of the night stroking your hair softly and whispering to you whenever you stirred. “Shhh rest honey rest.. I’m right here”, he coos softly everytime.

That’s when you realized that love wasn’t the way Finnick loved you when you were all dressed up and confident in your beauty. Love was when he still cared for you even when you felt like the worst version of yourself. Love was when he still found you gorgeous even though you felt physically rotten.

The phrase ‘love is the best medicine’, was a common saying back home. Finnick’s love brought you more comfort than medicine ever did. Pills filled with empty promises to take away the ache from your bones couldn’t compare to the man who could easily take away the ache in your heart.

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER FOUR

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @rosemariiaa @patscorner @makethemhoesmad @wbbgetsmewetter @authentic-girl03 @ohbueckers

kalena speakss 🪽! i had no clue what to write for this chapter but i scrapped something together and here it is! pls know this was supposed to be out like two hours ago but most of it got deleted and i had to rewrite it, so ignore any typos for the moment, ill fix em eventually 😭

May 2025 — Los Angeles, California

My leg bounces anxiously in the passenger seat of Julian’s car. The vehicle is silent, oddly enough, a complete 180 turn from the atmosphere of the last few days.

Things were really good. Julian and I were getting along better than ever, date nights and sleepovers. Up until we were arguing again. About schedules, staying out late, and of course the biggest disagreement in our relationship; the public.

We stayed up through all the hours of the night last night yelling at each other because I didn’t post about our date on my story; which I thought was childish but Julian evidently thought it was very serious.

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe it was a big deal. Even when I thought about it from his perspective, I would probably be upset too. But the issue was we’ve talked about this before, countless times.

I sat looking out the window, an air-pod in my right ear that softly played music to keep my head clear. Briefly interrupted by my text tone going off.

Marayeeeee

Paige. Obviously. She’s been the most consistent number in my phone since the dinner party a while back.

don’t ask me for more banana pudding please

You trippin 😭😭

Wanted to see if you were busy, I miss you

“Who’s that?” Julian asks me.

“Just Paige.” I responded, my eyes only briefly looking up from my phone to look at him. It didn’t take a genius to notice how his demeanor changed. The slight roll of his eyes, and the shift in his seat.

“You guys have been talking a lot lately, no?”

He would be right. Aside from the texting throughout all hours of the day, we’ve gone out for lunch a few times over the last couple weeks. She was good company, and very easy to get comfortable around.

“Yeah, something like that.”

i’m actually heading to the airport rn…

Oh

Where to?

dallas! i have a few shows in texas and atl

but i’ll be back next weekend since you miss me so bad ;)

She doesn’t respond right away and I take that as the opportunity to shut my phone off and stick it into my pocket.

Julian lets out a long sigh as his hand runs over his face. “You know we still have to talk about last night, right?”

“What is there to talk about if we’re just gonna keep disagreeing?” I ask softly, trying to avoid raising my voice and starting yet another argument.

“You want me to stop bringing it up? Fine. But don’t get mad when I don’t put up with it anymore.”

The LAX drop off comes into my view and I turn my head to avoid looking at him once more. I don’t miss the lump that sits in my throat, or the tears that sting my eyes. I’ve never considered myself emotional, normally just keeping how I felt to myself or writing it in music, but that one stung.

“Okay Ju.” I shake my head, unbuckling my seatbelt when the car comes to a stop. “That’s fine.” I comment before stepping out of the car. Even after all that, he still hops out to help me get my bags, and I know he’s upset with me and I’m just as upset with him but the way he hugs me and kisses my forehead nearly makes me forget about it.

Nearly.

Because even then, I’m thinking about how his arms don’t feel like they used to. And after a few seconds the kiss that is lingering on my forehead just feels like slobber that I can’t wait to wipe off.

—

May 2025 — Las Vegas, Nevada

I sit comfortably on my hotel bed, a game playing as background noise in front of me and film on my iPad. We play the Aces tomorrow on prime time television and though I should probably be getting some rest, there���s only one person that could possibly be keeping me up at midnight before game day.

Maraye. Obviously.

I can see every bit of her from the phone screen. She’s laying on her bed quite literally giving me a show of her entire upper body. She has on a gray tank top, and I have to remind myself to look up at her face rather than the way her tits sit in that top.

“Paige?”

“Yeah, sorry. What did you say?”

“I said shouldn’t you be watching film instead of me?” She joked. I turned my head before she could get a look of the flush of my face.

“Yes, actually, but you wanted to talk about um, what’s his name again?”

“Julian?”

“Yeah him, and I’m trying to be a good friend.” I shrugged. “What was the issue again?”

Maraye sulks on the other line, shaking her head before speaking. “It’s like we always argue about the same shit. I don’t have the energy to put up with it anymore.”

I’m probably the world’s biggest asshole for giving her relationship advice while wanting her in my bed right now, but oddly enough there isn’t a bone in my body that cares.

“Don’t y’think you should tell him that? That it’s tiring or something?” I suggest. My head leans to the side to get a better look at her and it’s so hard to stay focused on the topic at hand when she’s looking the way she does right now.

Maraye’s skin is glass. I swear if I were to look hard enough I would see my reflection in it. There’s a few freckles that sit on her skin that I can’t just barely see in the light. She has on her reading glasses, wide round frames that complement her brown skin and brown eyes beautifully.

“I tried! But then it makes me look like the bad guy, and I don’t wanna seem like an asshole.”

“How would you be the bad guy for saying how you feel? It’s not that hard, I mean you’re doing it with me right now.”

She laughs at this. “That’s not the same.”

“Yeah? How?”

There’s a silence on the other end, and I notice the way she breaks eye contact with me. Her head turning away from the phone screen and instead looking up somewhere else in the room.

She’s right, it’s not the same. I’m not the one she goes home too, or will introduce to her family, no matter how often I daydream that I am. Nevertheless, still I convince myself that it is.

“We’ve been friends as long as you guys been together, and you can tell me everything, right? Why not him?” I ask. My eyes trail away from the phone screen and over to my iPad to make the silence a bit more comfortable.

“You’re just easier to talk to, Paige. I don’t know.” Her voice trails off at the end of her sentence. “I’m just being dramatic, it’s fine.”

Now in the last two-ish weeks that I’ve been blessed with the pleasure to call Maraye my friend, I’ve picked up on quite a few habits of hers. One of which, being her ability to toss her feelings to the side as if they don’t matter. There’s probably nothing I hate more than that.

“No you’re not.” I sigh, looking back at her. “I’m sorry, but if he’s gonna be mad about how you react to how he’s made you feel instead of fixing it, then he ain’t the one for you, angel. You should find someone who is.”

—

June 2025 — Atlanta, Georgia

Paige’s words have hung over my head like a cloud over the last week.

I’ve made a great handful of friends since leaving Atlanta for LA, all of which I’d like to think have made huge impacts in my life, but none of which even compare to my friendship with Paige.

She’s amazing. Not a flaw in her Godsend personality. And not just in the building-a-grocery-store-in-her-hometown kinda way, but in literally every way imaginable. I laugh harder around her, she gives me amazing advice, and we just clicked almost instantly. It was so, different?

That’s probably the best word, different.

At first I thought it was admiration. I was a fan of hers and as such I felt a certain way about being friends with her. It felt good.

In reality, my idea couldn’t possibly be more far fetched.

I’ve never once questioned my sexuality. For me, my “normal” has just always been guys. There was never a girl friend of mine that made me feel a certain way, or a girl crush that was anything more than a brief fixation. So believe me when I say that how I feel about Paige— when she texts me, or calls to say she misses me, and especially when she calls me angel— that is far from my normal.

It all happened too fast, too much for me to process. I thought my connection with Julian was quick, I mean after a week I was all about him. But me and Paige? We clicked off of one conversation, maybe even the second she fell into my lap at the game. I have no idea how to feel about that.

So as a result, I haven’t spoken to her since that night in Dallas. It thought it would be simple, since it gave me the opportunity to focus on my shows and my career. Yet, all it has me doing is fucking missing her.

I’m seated on the couch in my dressing room backstage before my show in Atlanta. My thumb is hovering over the girl’s contact. Her contact photo stares back at me dangerously. It’s a photo of the two of us from Cameron’s dinner party, Paige’s nose is scrunched as she throws up a peace sign and I’m showing all 32 while throwing up one of my own.

I’m about to press the contact. I don’t know much but I assume she doesn’t have a game tonight, and all I want before going on stage is to hear her voice as she talks about literally anything.

I don’t care about how wrong it feels to be thinking about her in this way, or the fact that I should probably be on stage in less than 10 minutes. All I’m thinking about is Paige.

So yeah, I’m about to click on the dial button when the janky silver door knob twists open. I catch a peak at some royal blue flowers before all 6 feet and 3 inches of Julian steps through the door. My face doesn’t even try to mask its shock.

He looks handsome in his outfit. He always does. A white shirt with a black zip up hoodie along with jean shorts and a pair of Timbs. He’s gotten a haircut, I can tell from how clean his lineup is. His natural curls are pulled into cornrows down the back of his head.

It’s my first time seeing his face in a few days and in person since our awkward goodbye at LAX last week. Oh yeah, I haven’t spoken to him very much this past week either. Oddly enough, it was easier to do than with Paige.

When he steps closer, Julian hands me the flowers first before sitting next to me on the couch.

“What’re you doin’ here?” I ask incredulously. He pulls me into a hug from where we sit on the couch, cologne travels through the air and up into my nose. Dior Sauvage, I could point it out anywhere.

“I haven’t seen you in a minute.” Julian says. He leans into me and our lips connect softly, much different to the manner we’ve been treating one another with over the last couple weeks. Even then I don’t hesitate when I kiss him back. His lips feel so familiar, and they are because I haven’t felt them in quite some time. “Thought I should surprise you.” He mutters against my lips.

I pull away haphazardly, his eyes stare back into mine. Only this time it’s not as familiar, namely the fact that they aren’t big blue orbs that I swear dilate ever so slightly when they look at mine.

My feet lift me off the couch and over to the vanity. I place the flowers he gave me, roses, on the surface. “Sure did surprise me.” I joke. When I turn back around, with my hands pressed to the vanity chair behind me, Julian is manspreading slightly, the look on his face one that I call suggestive. “I have to be on stage in like… seven minutes.” I announce awkwardly with a glance to the gold watch on my wrist.

“So?”

“So, you have to get outta here and I have to finish up sound stuff.” I explain. My fingers fix the smeared lip gloss on my chin while I look down at him.

Julian stands up and approaches me, it’s times like this where I forget how tall he actually is. And the shoes on his feet give him another inch or two.

“What’s up wit’ you, babe? If you don’t want me here, I can go back to LA.” I don’t like the tone in his voice, mainly because it’s pointed as if he wants to say something to me but knows that it would upset me.

“What? No, I literally have to be on stage. You know how Kaylee gets.” I tell him. My hand reaches up for his tanned cheek and he doesn’t fight me off. I hear my phone ring in on the couch, but I can’t take it on stage with me so ignore it. It’s probably Kaylee cursing me out for being late.

Julian presses a kiss to my palm and I internally shudder. “You sure?” Just like that his tone is different. It’s the soft and deeper baritone that made me fall for him in the first place, not the aggressive accusatory voice I’ve become used to.

I nod. My mouth opens up to speak when I’m cut off by multiple bangs on the door before it swings open.

“Julian, I told you to wait until after the show. Raye we gotta go, now!” It’s Kaylee, as it always is. She reaches for my arm, which is bare due to my stylist's decision to fit me in a strapless top for tonight’s show. “You give me gray hairs, I swear.” She mumbles as she pulls me away from Julian.

In my head I’m silently thanking her for what I think was either Julian trying to have sex with me or him trying to start an argument about me not wanting to have sex with him. Either way I’m thankful.

As we leave, I hear my phone ring again from the couch. Julian reaches for it, and just before the door shuts I see him press a button and toss it back onto the couch.

It shouldn’t bother me because I have bigger priorities, namely the crowd of 10,000 people who paid money for this show. But still, it plays in the back of my mind while Kaylee scolds me and my sound manager fits the earpiece to my ear and puts the microphone in my hand.

[blaire-apricity]

Hello hello! The plushie headcanons are sooooo cute. I saw the requests are open and thought I'd drop mine too if that's okay :)

How would the Lads men cheer us/mc up when we're having a bad day? Eg: bad day at work or bad day in general

Bad days

ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘓𝘈𝘋𝘚 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘔𝘊 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺?

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘖𝘖𝘊

─────────────── ˗��ˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ───────────────

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫

Xavier was adept at sensing your emotions, especially when you felt sad. He would approach you slowly, ensuring his presence was comforting rather than overwhelming.

After a brief silence, Xavier would ask in a soft, steady voice, "Would you like to talk about it?"

Whether you would chose to share or simply shook your head, he listened attentively, attuned to both of your words and body language. His blue eyes showed genuine concern and care throughout.

A man of few words, Xavier found solace in actions over words. He would gently enveloped you in a reassuring hug, understanding that sometimes, silence speaks louder than words.

He knows you too well, he'll offer you the solace to rest once you began to relax. Combining two things that Xavier loves—sleeping and being with you—seemed the most natural way to comfort you.

In a cozy, intimate setting, you two would nestle together. His fingers delicately brushed through your hair, soothing you into peaceful sleep. His embrace was firm yet gentle, conveying his unwavering support without suffocation.

"I'm always here for you, today and every day," his voice barely above a whisper, matching the sincerity of the moment.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

Noticing a change in your aura, he first observes you, looking for any signs of distress or fatigue, thinking you might have caught an illness.

Unlike Xavier, Zayne addresses the situation directly with his usual calm and straightforward manner, asking, "What's going on? You seem off today." His tone is matter-of-fact but laced with genuine concern, signaling that he is ready to listen and help.

He attends to your immediate needs first. If you seem stressed, he suggests practical ways to alleviate it. "Let's take a break. Clear your head," he says.

Though stoic, Zayne is not unfeeling. He offers comfort through small but meaningful gestures.

He makes a cup of tea for you, knowing it has some medicinal effects that could help.

"Take your time, I'm here if you need me," he says, giving you the freedom to express your emotions or to have space to collect your thoughts.

Wanting to cheer you up, Zayne reminds you of your capabilities and past successes, like a flower blooming even in the harshest conditions.

“You’ve handled worse,” he says firmly but kindly. “This is just another hurdle, and you’ll get over it, like always.”

"It's just one day out of many. Tomorrow will be better," he says, gently patting your head.

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

Rafayel's initial response to your bad day would likely involve some playful teasing. "Did you trip over your own feet again or something?" he might say with a smirk, trying to provoke a reaction and distract you from your troubles.

At first, he pretends not to care, crossing his arms and looking away. "It’s not like I’m worried or anything. I just need my bodyguard in perfect condition to protect me," he mutters. Despite his words, his presence and engagement show he's paying attention.

Rafayel continues to poke fun at you, but with a softer touch. "You look like a sad puppy. It’s kind of pathetic," he says, though the hint of concern in his eyes betrays his true feelings.

When he notices that the teasing isn't lifting your spirits, he shifts to a more subtle form of comfort.

"Fine, let’s go do something fun. But only because I’m bored," he declares, suggesting an activity he knows you enjoy, like playing a game or watching a movie.

Throughout all of this, he gently rests his head against yours, your shoulders touching, providing silent support.

Despite his bratty demeanor, Rafayel finds small ways to show he cares.

He might casually offer your favorite snack or drink, pretending it's no big deal. "Here, take this. It's been sitting around in my fridge anyway," he says, though in truth, he brought it exclusively for you.

Finally, Rafayel tries to bring things back to normal, signaling that everything will be okay. "Alright, enough moping around. Let’s get back to having some fun," he says, his bratty demeanor back in place, but his actions revealing his genuine care.

·❆　　　❆　❅　　　　•　　　　.　　　　　❆❆• 　·　.　　　❅

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒! 𝐶𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑒𝑧𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠.

𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑛! 𝐼'𝑚 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝐻𝐶/𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒! 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚~

𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦! 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠~!

[winterbuckwild]

@flowercrowngods So sorry...

"Hey Robin, I think we have been missing each other, been a while. Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Hope you are having a great day. Guess ill..er...catch you later."

It had been nearly a year since he'd actually spoken to Robin. She'd gone to college across the country, so excited to finally get away from Hawkins; away from all the drama and trauma and pain, and Steve couldn't fault her for it. She was smart she had a dream and she was following it. And he loved that for her.

The phone calls started at a few times a week. Quick ones because they were both pretty broke, but it quickly became once a week when classes started. Every fortnight during exam season, and then an elaborate game of phone tag for a good three months when his shifts and her classes didn't match up.

Around month 7 he had sort of...given up. It had made him feel like a bit of a stalker in the end, his three phone calls to every one of hers, leaving shorter and shorter messages on her machine. He still wanted to talk to her every day, to tell her about the good things that had started happening to him.

How he'd gone to the library to figure out a sink issue and was too broke for a plumber and found out that he was pretty good with his hands. That he'd enrolled in trade school and was excelling. That he liked someone and he thinks it could be serious.

That the person he liked was a guy and that he was kinda scared and kinda excited and wanted someone to talk to about it. That the guy was Eddie of all people.

He wanted to gush about Eddie the way she used to with Vickie. That his hair was soft and his eyes were soft and his hands when he touched Steve were perfect and kind while his dimpled grin was wicked and promising. That Eddie was brave as fuck making the first move and patient with Steve's minor freak out that he was going through alone.

Eddie had helped him instead.

So it had been three months since Steve had tried calling, and he hadn't had a single message. No calls that he knew about and his machine worked fine. His number hadn't changed. He left the message as closure really, leaving a space in his heart for the friendship that changed him for the better, a friendship that he would always be grateful for. That he would always cherish.

But he couldn't keep waiting around, banging his head against that brick wall. He would always be there if she needed him but, well, she didn't really, did she? Not anymore.

He hung up the phone and grabbed his van keys. He'd traded in the beemer a month ago since he would need the space for tools eventually and it was like shedding that last little part of King Steve. The final nail in that coffin and he felt an odd sense of relief.

He was meeting Eddie before class, they were going to grab some lunch beforehand and then after come back and start packing up the apartment. Steve was moving in with him and he couldn't be more excited about it. He'd told Eddie that and the other man had beamed at him, just as pleased.

He didn't think about not having anyone else to tell.