#i hate @s being forced into discord can you PLEASE leave me alone with my silly id no. that ive grown attached to

[gemharvest]

Finding out websites/ apps I actively use are doing shitass updates that ruin the experience either aesthetically or (in the objectively worse case) with functionality.

[aureiki]

This is a continuation of my last post regarding the cast's backstories! Before I do anything, big shoutout to the discord for helping me out a lil on some of these.

While I was discussing backstories w some friends, they brought up a theory that since the themes are guilt/shame or whatever similar, the cast had probably done something awful. Such as yk, murder and the sorts. I'll most likely talk about these themes below! A prior warning for it.

I'll hopefully make this a little more longer, so without further ado-

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Rose Lacroix

"In the end, the only thing I can do is watch my wretched life go on."

It's basic knowledge in the community that Rose has INCREDIBLE photographic memory, and that she'll remember, well literally anything. As helpful as it was in the first case, and her actual ultimate, it's also definitely a huge inconvenience to her normal life.

She can remember ANYTHING, Rose has obviously seen some pretty... nasty things she'd like to forget, but can't. The way she calls her life wretched does show that she's- unhappy? Annoyed with her life? Well, nobody can really blame her.

If Rose did end up killing a person, and if not that, put them in an awful state with her own hands. It'd make sense yk? It'll obviously be a memory she'd rather forget but cant. And thus the HQ, in the end, all she can do is watch. Death is a scary thing after all. (Coughs coughs feed into my theory she will commit s word in the future coughs)

J Moreno

"Please don’t call me your daughter ever again."

Luckily for me, a lot of her backstory was revealed in the newest FTE video! It was theorized for a while, and I'm not shocked to find out it's actually canon! (/pos)

Her mother dressed her up all girly and stuff, made her do things that 'girls should always do.' Telling J that 'swearing isn't lady-like!' Wear makeup everyday! Don't cut your hair too short, no one will marry you if you look like a guy!'

Something I can (unfortunately) relate to, in fact a lot of girls do. J also reveals that her brother never had to go through that stuff, and was left to do whatever he wanted, much to J's jealousy.

When a parent drills the mindset that girls should ALWAYS be girly, and boys should ALWAYS be rough and rowdy, it'll really change how their kids see things. Thus, J was just lead to believe that all girly girls are lame and annoying (because well, her mother forced her to be one) while boys are cool and whatever (her brother didn't get annoyed by their mother, and J was just likely sick of being feminine.)

Personally I don't feel like getting into gender talk regarding J, I'm not cis of course but I'd rather leave it as it is, headcanons and all ^^

J does also reveal she really hates her mom, calling her annoying and stuff. For the fact that her mom forced her to be girly. I'm not saying that's a bad reason to dislike someone, personally I have a little dislike for my own parents for those same reasons. But I'm wondering just how bad did it get for J to act and behave that way.

The whole guilt and shame thing? With this alone, I'm not quite sure.. If her mother is important, then maybe J feels guilt for pushing her mother (or even, her whole family) out of her life? Or if I go to the more extreme route, J did/said something bad to her mom in a fit of rage, and caused her mom's own death.

Eden Tobisa

"You can’t go back, no matter how hard you try."

What I like about Eden's HQ is that it's sort of a play on her talent. (Go back/Turn back time) Unlike a good majority of the cast, Eden isn't an asshole, so it's a lot more unbelievable that she did something bad.. to me atleast.

Fits the guilt and shame theme, Eden desperately wants to go back, perhaps to a time when things were simple, or reverse an accident she caused. Eden is quite the foil of Teruko, being so willing to trust her in the trial despite being the most obvious suspect for Xander's death. And she was the (assumed) most upset over Teruko leaving, and Teruko's sudden outburst in the trial.

With that being said, I don't think the HQ refers to Eden's own actions *specifically*, not fully atleast. It could be an accident someone else caused, and Eden wants to go back to a time where it never happened. There's also the fact she's pretty awful at time management (ironic, she's a clockmaker)

Tuning out everything else while you work is normal, I do that. But for her to work on machinery for *14 hours without a single break*? It's very likely a joke, with the way she says it so casually but I dunno.. Maybe she wishes to be ignorant, like Rose, she wants to forget what happened and what she's done.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

That's all for today! Again, I'll do the rest when I have time! You're free to discuss more and add anything if u wish! ( ๑>ᴗ<๑ )

[between-two-fandoms]

Who We Used To Be (Ray/Rose/Trevor)

As told by myself and @thesevenumbrellas tag teaming the whump in the 18+ JatP discord. Sev I swear we operate on the same braincell levels, we do be clowning. @bobbywilsonsupremacy  let us know what you think of this! I know you and I both hardcore ship Raybse.

Cover was created by @thesevenumbrellas​. Please don’t steal it.

This post got long so fair warning.

We wrote this in a discord server over the time span of hours so there’s some mistakes but i’m too lazy to go back and fix it all. Basically we tag teamed on a Raybse Trevor Wilson-centric whump story and can destroy a fandom with a single touch.

You’ll understand once you click the cut.

Don’t Steal Our Writing (but please reblog this to spread it around).

Trauma Time.

major whump warning

(Ren) Okay so if we're gonna be starting at 90's ot3 my children ray/bobby/Rose know that Ray is a panic bi and loves both of these humans very much with his whole ass heart.

(Ren) He takes pictures of his girlfriend and boyfriend while they’re on dates because he wants to capture the moments he was happy the most. Bobby always shed away from the camera burying his face in Rose's shoulder or leaning in for a kiss. Anyways as time goes by Ray notices Bobby's change in behavior. From being his go-happy-trauma boyf to being caught up in the music scene, often out at all hours to parties and label meetings only to come to to sleep on the couch, not even sharing the bed like he used to. It reminds Ray of the time when Bobby was grieving his boys. Ray hates it, but he loves bobby so he pushes his feelings aside to try and arrange more dates for the three of them to go on together.

(Sev) Ray waking up to only Rose in the bed and not Bobby, and it feels too cold in bed without him. So he'll try to call him, because it's 3am and he's supposed to be home and he's not. And Ray remembers what happened to Bobby's bandmates, and he can't admit it out loud but he's worried. Because what if that happens to Bobby? He knows it was a freak accident! What are the odds of it happening again?? But he can't shake that feeling when Bobby doesn't come home at night and Ray stays up all night worrying. Anyway he tries to call Bobby and Bobby doesn't answer. He'll leave loads of voicemails, trying not to be pushy because he knows Bobby doesn't respond well to that. But he's worried. He'll say "hey please call me when you get this." and then ten minutes later try again "hey just text me that you're safe okay?" He can't sleep because Bobby still isn't home. It's 5am. He has to go to work in two hours. Rose keeps telling him to go to bed but he can't.[2:58 PM]Bobby finally texts back. "I'm okay! Was playing with some friends, the gig went over time and then we went to  party." Ray wants to be angry because seriously? No phone calls because he was at a party? But he knows that'll just push Bobby away more!

(Ren) And so Ray has all of these festering emotions that boil down to worry and concern at the core but he's just so scared hes losing Bobby cause he never really had his own family to begin with and then one day when Ray comes home early from a photoshoot he can hear Bobby and Rose fighting over Bobby signing the contract that says he wrote Luke's songs but Ray just hears yelling before he even opens the door with his name thrown into the mix and then he gets even more scared because what if he loses Rose and Bobby? if he lost both of them he'd be destroyed. So he doesnt knock. He doesnt go home. Instead he walks around the city until he was supposed to go home originally and he opens the door and there's a sort of eerie silence in the air.

(Sev) Trevor’s unable to shake the feeling that something terrible will happen to Rose and Ray because he's with them. His entire family were killed in 1 night because he wasn't there with them. So at first he's clingy as fuck to Rose and Ray because what if something bad happens when he's not there? What if what if what if... But as time goes on the thinking flips. Maybe it's the music industry that's the problem. It's these weird connections in his head of if he's too successful, bad things might happen. But he can't quit music like that, he can't give up on Luke's dream. He owes his boys to become successful. So instead he distances himself from Rose and Ray. That way they won't be caught up in whatever bad thing is going to happen to him. He distances himself and he waits for it all to drop. He waits for the universe to punish him again.

(Ren) And the universe punishes Bobby when the tension between him and Rose tightens so much he knows there's no going back from it but he's not admitting to stealing the songs because he didn't. He helped Luke write all of the songs more than Alex and Reggie ever did, staying up late with Luke after fights with his mom and Bobby didn’t want Luke to be alone so yeah, he wrote the songs. Maybe not as much as he claimed but he sure as hell made sure his brother wasn’t alone so that counted for something right? And it did. Until Rose kicks him out of bed because she's pissed he'd even consider stealing music and he cant tell Ray because of the NDA the label got him to sign at a party when he was drunk and the only reason Rose knows about it is because she was there when he signed the damn thing and so Bobby pulls away from Ray because isnt it going to be easier in the long run? If he doesn’t attach himself to Ray who'll just get angry at him like Rose did?

(Sev) It's the guilt that grows inside of him every passing day. They're my songs too he tells himself over and over again. But during the dark nights, three glasses of whisky in when the world is getting hazy... even he can't believe the lies he tells himself. He fucked up Sunset Curve. He fucked up his friends' memories. And now he fucked up the only good thing he'd ever had. Ray texts him nonstop. He doesn't understand why Rose kicked Bobby out and he doesn't understand why Bobby listened. Bobby can't take Ray away from Rose. He's fucked up and a terrible person, but even he can't do that. He doesn't give Ray his new address. He refuses to meet up even for Ray to give him his stuff back. All Bobby can do is hold onto Ray's sweatshirt he stole away and a bottle of perfume the same brand Rose always wears. He cradles these things in his arms and cries.

(Ren) And that's the last he sees of Ray for all of 5 years, 20yr old puppy-dog eyed loving precious ray who Bobby would run to the second Rose says its okay. But rose never does. And then Bobby meets a cute blonde and six months later the barista shows up on his doorstep shoving Carrie into his arms calling her a bastard child. Carrie is not a bastard child Carrie is his and he loves her the second he sets eyes on her and so Bobby turns into Trevor when the new year rolls around and he starts his own album. It doesn’t do as well as Luke's his first album did but it was his. And then one day Trevor signs Carrie up for dance because Trisha from first grade made fun of her for not being able to do the splits and on the way out of the dance studio Trevor bumps into Ray, a terrified looking girl clutched to his leg. Carrie doesn't miss a beat. "Hi! I'm Carrie let's be friends!" and Carrie drags Ray's daughter off and Trevor shifts awkwardly and is suddenly 17 again but Ray's eyes still twinkle like the did when they were kids and he's still wearing eyeliner so Trevor almost missed it when a flicker of recognition crosses Ray’s face and a smile quirks at the corners of his lips and he says, "hi im Ray, thats my daughter Julie. Wanna go out for a drink?" With that same mischievous glint in his eye that made Bobby fall in love with him in the first place.

(Sev) Trevor almost stops breathing. He should say no. He knows he should say no. He's an awful person. He doesn't deserve someone like Ray. He never deserved either of them. He knows that. But can't force himself to say no. Maybe it's the twinkle in Ray's eyes. Maybe it's the soul crushing loneliness he's felt ever since he left them. Or maybe it's the way Carrie and Julie are giggling in the corner like they've known each other all their lives. He says yes. The drink ends up at a family friendly restaurant with both the girls in tow.

(Ren) Rose shows up because Ray the asshole apparently texted her while he was in the car saying he met one of Julie's friend's parents and wanted to go out on a date (keeping things pg ofc) aklsdf. And when Rose does show up Trevor sees how... sick she looks. How much paler she looked than she did all those years ago how - he still knew he loved her even if she still decided she hated him.

(Sev) The mood drops quickly. Trevor wants to ask about Rose, but not in front of the kids. Ray wants to ask about their past, but not in front of the kids. Rose... Rose who holds all the answers... doesn't know where to start first. She had never regretted not telling Ray the truth. She never wanted to change Ray's perception of Bobby like that. Ray who looked at their boyfriend as if he'd hung the moon. Ray who stayed up worrying all night until Bobby came home. Ray who held Bobby through countless nightmares... But that makes the truth staring them in the face so much harder. Because she never gave Ray the choice. She realized that a few years too late after she catches Ray staring at old pictures of Bobby in their photo albums. She'd made the choice for him. And then there's Trevor... still beautiful, staring at her with so much concern her heart breaks all over again.

(Ren) The tension doesn't fly over Carrie's head like he hoped it would, she talks to Julie about My Little Pony and Pokemon and High School Musical and their mutual hatred for Trisha from school but Carrie's hand never lets go of his and he finally plucks up the courage and stretches his arm out and says "we're vegetarian for the most part, hope that's okay." And a smile quirks at the corner of her lips and she asks "for the most part?" and Trevor nods and Carrie pipes up from her seat saying "daddy hates hot dogs,” in that blatant fact kind of way kids say things without realizing how problematic it could be. It wasn’t her fault though, Trevor has yet to tell her about her uncles, about how he was in a band, about how they were going to be legends.

(Sev) Rose and Ray both freeze at Carrie's voice. He doesn't know if the girls notice, because he's too busy trying to fight back the panic in his throat. It's been a long time since anyone had brought up ... what happened. It's easy to pretend it didn't happen when his name is Trevor and no one knows him. But these two people know him. They know him more than anyone else ever has. Even the boys. The truth hits him hard at that moment. A truth he'd been avoiding for almost two decades. Ray and Rose know him better than even he knew himself. Maybe that was why Rose had been so furious with him, or why Ray continued to chase after him even months after he moved out. Trevor hides the building panic and sudden realization with a smile. "What an I say," he said as causally as he can. "I'm a picky eater." A few hours later they end up back at the Molina's house. Bobby has no idea how it happened. -No, Trevor has no idea how it happened, he scolds himself. He's Trevor. He has to be Trevor. Trevor got him this far, Trevor made the difficult choices. Bobby was the one who got his friends kill and destroyed the best relationship he ever had. Still, it becomes harder and harder to remind himself of that. To stop himself from slipping into the comfortable shoes of Bobby, boyfriend of Ray and Rose as if the past 17 years had never happened. He finds himself on their sofa, a sofa that brings back memories both good and bad... he finds himself in a familiar home, his old studio just a short walk away, his ex's giggling in the kitchen as they make his coffee the way he's always liked it without asking for a reminder.

(Ren) Trevor can remember the day he stopped drinking the coffee Ray made for him, the morning after his first fight with Rose, when he wakes up cold because Rose basically cocooned herself around Ray's body, keeping her back turned to him and as much as he wanted to reach out to Ray, to hug him and comfort him and tell him it was all going to be okay... everything was too stuffy and too tense and deciding he just had to leave because he was going to suffocate otherwise.

(Sev) He should leave, just like last time. What was he even doing here? He should take Carrie and- Then Ray's in front of him, pushing a hot cup into is hands. "The girls are playing upstairs," he says. His voice is so calm, so understanding. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to." Trevor almost laughs. Because that's so like Ray. Almost a decade without answers and he's giving Trevor the option to ignore it all. To pretend like nothing ever happened. But he can't be that selfish again. So he shakes his head. "I'd... like to talk to you... to both of you."

(Ren) And then suddenly rose is eyeing him sus but he's been putting this off for to long and honestly fuck his label because they screwed him over one too many times for him to still even consider their relationship anything other than employee-client1[4:06 PM]and so Trevor takes a sip of Ray's coffee holy shit how did go so long without it?! and he explains it. he explains everything.

(Sev) Ray doesn't speak as Trevor explains. He never interrupts or even look surprised. His face is completely unreadable. He doesn't move until Trevor's done. And then once he is, he only stands up to start pacing the room. Trevor's oddly reminded of Alex as he does so,  and the memory is enough to make him flinch. "This... this is what you two have been hiding from me for so long?" he asked, voice brittle. "This is... this is what cost us... I mean..." But he can't finish. Ray just shakes his head, back to both Rose and Trevor.

(Ren) Suddenly he's seventeen again. Seventeen and a mess in Ray's arms burying his face into the man's chest finally feeling the weight of the world lift off of his shoulders and suddenly Rose is hugging him from behind, her too-skiny bone arms snaking around his chest and hugging him tightly threatening to never let him go saying "amour," and pressing a kiss to the back of his head, "amour we never stopped loving you."

(Sev)It's like no time has passed by the time he's done crying his eyes out. They're all huddled on a sofa that was always too small for three. Trevor's in the middle, clutching at them both as if they're going to disappear on him. Ray sits with his legs underneath them, his arms pulling the both of them into his chest. And then there's Rose, suddenly so much more delicate than Trevor remembers. She sits half on his lap, curled into them, her fingers knotted in his hair. "I can't believe you two kept this from me," Ray whispers. There's no anger. He doesn't think Ray's ever been capable of being angry. "I'm sorry," Trevor whispers, throat raw from tears. Ray answers with a firm kiss to his temple. "We wasted so much time..."

(Ren) Trevor just lays between them in their bed, nothing sexual and nothing tense it’s just them being together and Rose playing with his now-long hair, braiding it right down the middle despite it being too long for others to braid. Her fingers feel nice as they tug at his roots, familiar and a sense of calm washes over him. He lets ray fop on top of him like they used to, burying his head in his chest just listening to his heart beat, his steady constant breathing because Ray used to be afraid one day he'd wake up and Bobby would be dead too. Rose humming lightly, soft lullabies that chased away dark thoughts and Trevor just finds it so comforting, a feeling of home he hasn't had since the day he left and so he wraps his arms around Rose and Ray tight, promising himself he won't screw up his second time around.

(Sev) It's a few hours later when he speaks again. The girls are asleep in Julie's room (delighted at their surprise sleepover.) Ray's almost nodded off, head resting against Trevor's chest. But Rose is wide awake. She's laid out, tangled between them, eyes focused on something far away. He can see it more clearly now. The tremble in her hands, the way she's so still, the circles around her eyes. He takes her hand in his. "What is it?"

(Ren) And Trevor wants it to be a prank, he wants the sinking feeling in his gut twisting around his heart, the same feeling he had the morning of Sunset Curve's Orpheum performance coiling up his spine to go away. He wants everything to be okay, that he told the truth, that he was forgiven, that the universe was finally on his side for once but of course it's not because when has it ever been.  Rose's fingers run lightly over his knuckles and Ray wraps his arm around him from behind, his hands resting against Trevor's chest, something solid for him to focus on and as a tear starts to roll down Rose's cheek he reaches up to brush it away, running his hand through her hair only to pull out a clump as he pulled away but he couldn't run when his instincts to run kick in like they always used to do when situations turned emotional, bury it in his mind and lock up his worries like he always did but this wasn't going to be something he could run from.

(Sev) Life is not the fantasy or a fairy tale. There are no happy endings, only happy moments. He'd like to say they picked up right where they left off, Rose lived until a ripe old age, and they never fought again. But he'd be lying. It was hard to fold their lives back into place again, especially with Carrie and Julie. To just pick up after their seventeen year old selves was an impossible dream. But they could do breakfast. And breakfast became dinner. Dinner became one date which became two which became many. It took trouble and care, but they slotted themselves back into each other's lives again. There were lunch dates, and movie nights. There were late night wine dates and early morning coffee dates. They found their happy moments. A decade of separation had smoothed out the rough edges. If Trevor stormed out after a harsh argument, he'd return the next day with flowers and apologies. If Rose snapped and lost her temper, she'd take herself off for a walk to cool down. If Ray was bothered by something, he'd speak up instead of pushing it all down. They found their happy moments. And when 1 month became 1 year, they celebrated with moving boxes and a new, bigger couch. When 1 year became 2, they celebrated with promise rings and whispers of a better future between light kisses. 3 years became 4, became 5, and so on... They found their happy moments. But life is not a fantasy or a fairy tale. Their story ends in a hospital. Rose dies with both her husbands at her side, with both her daughters and son clutching on her hands. She dies with a smile on her face, knowing she is not leaving them to suffer alone. Ray and Trevor grieve together.

(Ren) And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. They stick to their daughters through the worst of it but they don’t let the girl’s fighting rip into them too. It’s not what Rose would’ve wanted for them, it’s not what she would’ve wanted for Julie or Carrie either.

(Sev) And when Julie plays with her ghost band, it's much earlier that Trevor recognizes who she's playing with.

(Ren) Luke’s mad at first, ofc he is but after everything is explained and out in the open Trevor finds himself at home in a building that never felt like home despite the fact he grew up in it.

[georgescatcafe]

motion sickness — 5

rating: t warning/s: none pairing/s: dreamnotfound genres/tags: friends to lovers, fluff and angst, pining, flirting, friendship, misunderstandings word count: 1010 summary: No. No, no, no, no. George pushes himself away from the desk, rising up out of his chair to go to the other side of his room. No. There’s no way. No way at all.

Except there is. Except he is.

George collapses onto his bed with a groan. He’s in love with Dream.

Great.

+ao3 +masterpost

;;

Waking up to George's apology text is nice, Sapnap thinks as he sends back a short acceptance.

The other's words had definitely hurt, don't get him wrong—no one wants to be yelled at by their friend—but he understands how George could be tired. But Sapnap just wants his friend to be happy, and he knows George telling Dream could result in both of them being happy, so he's pushed the other to confess more than he would if he wasn't sure.

(But George's words still hurt, and Sapnap rubs his chest at the phantom pain they've caused.)

He supposes he doesn't have to make George be the one to confess, though. He pulls up his messages with Dream. "Hey," he types.

What's up

Sapnap takes a breath. George will just thank him later for this.

George wasn't actually feeling sick, he says, but u need to be the one to talk to him

He won't talk to me though

Sapnap sighs. He will, u just need to push more

Dream doesn't reply. Sapnap takes another breath.

Talk to him, don't stop pushing until he tells u. Its for the best I promise

He closes out of Discord and gets up to go get breakfast. All he can do now is hope for the best. (Though he doesn't expect anything less.)

;;

George hears the sound of a Discord notification and groans, rolling over in bed.

;;

Sapnap freezes from where he had been buttering his toast. "Oh fuck," he says aloud to himself. In his determination, he hadn't thought to tell Dream to wait a bit, give George time to come down after their conversation—after their fight. Sapnap lifts his brows before he goes back to spreading butter on his toast. "Oops."

;;

Another notification. And then another. And another.

George wonders if whoever’s so eager to blow up his phone would absolutely lose it if he were to turn the thing off. One more slew of notifications. A hand sneaks out from under the covers to grab the device, glancing at the screen, groaning and locking it once more, before his eyes fly open and he’s turning his phone back on.

What is it

Did I do something wrong

George just be honest with me pls

If I did something wrong just tell me

I know it wont seem sincere but whatever I did

Im sorry

George unlocks his phone, opening up the app to reply. you didnt do anything wrong, he types. i mean it

Then what happened

George is not confessing over text. (Preferably, he doesn’t confess at all, but he’s starting to learn you don’t always get what you want.)

The screen lights up with an incoming call. George answers.

“Please,” Dream’s voice comes through the line immediately, “what happened, just… tell me, George. I want to help you solve the problem, not be a part of it.” When George doesn’t reply, he continues. “If it’s not bad, then why are you… why are we like this? What’s going on?”

“I…,” he can’t find the words, “don’t know if… I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me, George, please,” and the other is begging now, George knows, his voice tired and soft, worn down. All because of George. He hates it. He hates the other like that. Hates that he made him like that.

“Do you—it’s just that—,” it’s three words, three words he can say for a bit, for a gag, for a joke and for fun, but not like this, not with truth dripping from every letter, not with his career, with his heart on the line.

“It’s just that…?”

“I can’t,” George says. “I can’t tell you.”

“You said you could,” Dream immediately replies. “You said you could tell me anything. You wouldn’t—you don’t hide stuff from me, George. What could it—why?”

“I’m sorry,” George tries. “I just can’t. Okay? I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

He’s not letting up. George doesn’t think he’s going to. But he’s tight-lipped. He can’t say. He won’t say.

“George,” Dream says, “why not?”

“I…,” he won’t say.

“Just… tell me.”

A flash of something, burning, itching, searing, under his skin. George tries to swallow it down as Dream grows only more insistent. But he just… he can’t say it. His tongue is a paperweight, his confession the paper. He won’t let it out. He refuses to let it out.

A sigh. Fabric rustling—Dream shifting in his seat. “Would it be easier to type it?” George frowns. “Send me a text with whatever it is you need to say.”

“I don’t need to say anything,” George snaps. “And no. It’s not something I can text.”

“Then what is it?” George leans away from his phone, heart pounding at Dream’s shout. He’s mad. He’s actually mad.

Well. George can be mad too.

“It’s nothing!” George insists. “You don’t need to worry about it!”

“Clearly I do!” A rough sound comes through the receiver. A fucking growl? Dream is more than mad. He’s pissed. “You won’t fucking talk to me, George! That’s concerning!”

“I’d get over it eventually!” George cries. “I just needed more time! I need more time, Dream! Just leave it, okay?”

“Leave what, George?” Dream’s breathing is audible through the phone. “Get over what?”

“My fucking feelings for you!” It comes out unbidden, and George can’t stop it. He’s not even given the chance to stop it. He’s already got all his wood, the cloth. Might as well build his coffin and get in. “I’m in fucking love with you, dumbass.” He lets the lid fall closed over him. He hangs up.

;;

“What?” Clay asks, but there’s no one left to hear. George has hung up, left him alone with that admission. That confession.

George is in love with him. George is in love. With him.

Okay.

Actually. That’s—he’s—a laugh bubbles up from his chest, forcing its way past his lips—that’s not okay at all. George confessed then hung up on him. (What the fuck?) George confessed. And then hung up on him!

Clay tries calling him back.

No one picks up.

;;

next

[cinnaminsvga]

💋 | tlhc!yoongi

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ tlhc!yoongi ft. jungkook | 3.5K words → a/n: this was written after an anon sent me a REALLY angsty idea for tlhc and i haven’t stopped thinking about it since. also, this takes place after namjin’s wedding but before yoongi and y/n get together (in this drabble, they’re “dating” but i say that loosely because... well. they’re fucking yoongi and y/n so OFC they’re stupidly, emotionally constipated). anyway... here’s This!! rip!!

Yoongi knows he’s being childish when he leaves your shared apartment with a large pout on his face. He knows that if he just tried a little harder, he could’ve convinced you to let him stay at home instead of going to some godforsaken bachelor party. He hasn’t been to a party involving body shots and strippers since he graduated from university, and he isn’t exactly keen on returning to that particular scene either. He has always been a more wine and dine type of guy, and everyone is aware of this.

It’s a well-known fact amongst his circle of friends that Min Yoongi isn’t keen on attending most types of social gatherings. Birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, casual get-togethers… It didn’t matter what the occasion is because Yoongi is certainly going to hate every second of it. It didn’t even matter if the party was being hosted by a long-time friend; after all, sitting in a room filled with half-strangers and estranged friends isn’t exactly what Yoongi would consider a “fun time.”

It doesn’t stop people from inviting him out of courtesy, though.

Most of the time, Yoongi is able to grit through the pain of human interaction as long as you tagged along with him. You’re kind of like Yoongi’s walking meat shield when it comes to parties, though you aren’t exactly fond of his analogy when he had explained himself to you. Nevertheless, you always did understand him better than anyone else, always being his savior from awkward small talk by redirecting the conversation away from him. Or, you would quietly tug him outside to the backyard so that the two of you could pet the party owner’s dog or something.

Truly, what would he have done without you?

“I still don’t understand why you expect me to go to this party alone. You’re practically feeding me to the sharks,” Yoongi whines, not at all immaturely. He can hear your exasperated sigh through his phone speakers, though he imagines that you hadn’t been aiming to conceal your ire in the first place.

“Yoonie, it’s Jungkook’s bachelor party. You heard what that dweeb said: ‘No girls allowed’ or some shit. Like some sort of toddler. I’m surprised he even asked you to attend.”

“Are you implying that I should be barred entry because of my feminine hips?” Yoongi asks, hopeful. “Cause honestly, I was only kinda offended when Jungkook said I had twink-sized proportions, so I mean…”

You scoff, though Yoongi can imagine you shaking your head with tired fondness. AKA, your default mood towards him on most days. Yoongi doubts that fondness is going to help him convince you to let him get the fuck out of this party, though. “Save it. You’re going to that party or else.”

Yoongi sniffs, offended. “Honestly, you should be the one going instead of me. I’m not as close to that pussyboi as you are.”

“Hey, only I’m allowed to call him that,” you chide. “Besides, you already left the house. I don’t understand why you’re calling me in the first place. It’s almost 8PM and you should be at the restaurant by now.”

It’s true. Yoongi is literally already in front of the restaurant where they all agreed to meet before heading out to the “main event,” or whatever the hell that means. It could only end badly; after all, Park Jimin had been the one to organize this shitshow of a bachelor party. Things will not go in Yoongi’s favor tonight if Jimin can help it.

“I’m only here because you threatened to disfigure Kobe Bryant-sunbaenim! That bobblehead is limited edition!” Yoongi has the strongest urge to stomp his feet, though he restrains himself only so that the hostess by the entrance of the restaurant won’t call the manager on him (again.) He is nearing his 30’s for fuck’s sake! Then again, Seokjin is a year older than him and if Yoongi’s future is anything like his, he shudders to think what might become of him.

“Yoonie,” you say, voice steely and quiet. Uh oh. You’re getting genuinely angry by now, and Yoongi knows he’s pushing your buttons to their limits. However, he wouldn’t be doing it otherwise if he really didn’t want to go to this party. He hates disappointing you, but nothing on this planet could ever make him want to go through those mahogany doors and face that bucktoothed loser with stars in his googly eyes.

Yoongi sighs, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. “I know, I know. I’m being childish. It’s just a party and I should just endure it. Although, I’m not promising that I’ll even try to pretend that I’m enjoying it. That’s beyond my paygrade, I’m afraid,” Yoongi says, picking his hangnails as he gazes at the entrance of the restaurant. The hostess’ left eyebrow twitches slightly, a forced customer service smile on her lips. Yoongi feels a sudden sense of strong camaraderie with this stranger.

“I was just gonna say that if you really can’t stand the party, then I’m allowing you an out. If you can stay there for at least two hours, then you can leave once you’ve––“

You hardly get to finish your sentence when Yoongi cuts you off, a strangled sob of relief escaping his throat. “Oh, thank you, my goddess! You are truly the apple of my eye; I shalt never speak ill of you no longer! You are heaven incarnate, my fair and beautiful mistress, the sun who has chased away the darkness––“

“Shut the fuck up, court jester,” you say, endearment dripping like honey off of your words. But Yoongi is already smiling ear to ear, hopelessly warm for some reason. If Hoseok had been around, he would have gagged at the sight of the two of you.

We’re so whipped, Yoongi thinks idly to himself.

“Now go say hello to Jungkook for me, will you? And please, if either he or Jimin do anything stupid or illegal, try to hold them back a little, okay?”

“Nope, I don’t think so,” Yoongi says, before promptly hanging up. Before he pockets his phone, he texts a short “ily” just in case he actually might have pissed you off. Either way, that will be a problem for future Yoongi to figure out.

Just as he ended the calls, a muffled crash and what sounds like a hyena being forced down a trash compactor from inside the restaurant echoes ominously through the open streets. Yoongi and the hostess hardly flinch at the cacophany, both of them staring glassily at the smoggy South Korean sky with quiet acquiescence.

“Fuck me,” Yoongi says. “Fuck me, indeed.”

*.*.*.*.*

The party is as terrible as Yoongi had imagined. Scratch that––Yoongi doesn’t think his imagination is capable of conjuring such a nightmarish scene. He’s pretty sure at least 99% of the inhabitants of this strip club were doing something slightly to moderately illegal. Case in point:

“Jeon Jungkook, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Yoongi yells over the discordant noise that the DJ is trying to pass off as “music.” Jungkook pauses in his ministrations to turn to face Yoongi, which is a feat in itself, as it appears that Jungkook’s eyes were facing opposite directions. Yoongi chooses to maintain eye contact with his left one.

“Whaaa? Why not, coconut?” Jungkook giggles at his little rhyme at the end, but his laughter sounds garbled, probably hindered by the amount of saliva pooling inside his mouth.

Yoongi points at his hands. “Jungkook. I’m pretty sure that is not salt that you are pouring over your fries.”

It takes a few moments for Jungkook to register anything that Yoongi had said. In fact, Yoongi doesn’t think he registers them at all; Yoongi has to forcefully take away the soiled plate of “mystery powder fries” away from him before Jungkook even realizes anything is going on.

“Heeeey, getchur own food, boomer!” Jungkook whines, making grabby hands at the plate before flopping pathetically onto Yoongi’s lap. Yoongi, ever the gentleman, pushes the younger off until he tumbles off the side of the booth and into a mysterious puddle spilled by one of the scantily clad “mechanics.” Jungkook, to his credit, gets up back onto his seat with some semblance of grace (which is to say, he managed to get his ass onto the couch without any additional injury.)

“I can’t believe I’m literally at a glorified children’s party. And I thought babysitting Namjoon’s little demon was bad enough,” Yoongi groans, grimacing in disgust at the mystery liquid from the floor oozes gently down the side of Jungkook’s face. “Dude. Wipe your fucking face.”

Jungkook, known laundry-fanatic and clean freak extraordinaire, promptly takes off his pristine white shirt and uses it to dab his face away. After which, he throws it somewhere behind him, right into a circle of twinks who proceed to fight over who gets to keep it. “Better,” he mutters, same dopey smile on his face.

“Just 1 hour, 18 minutes and 34 seconds left, Yoongi… I can do this,” Yoongi says through clenched teeth. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten, tries to remember what his therapist told him to do when he’s slowly losing his grip on reality. Then, Jungkook throws up all over his new leather shoes.

“Hyung,” Jungkook mutters sleepily, head lolling like he’s about to drop dead in a second. He grins dopily at Yoongi, a string of saliva dripping down the side of his cheek. “I think I’m sick.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” And so, like the kind person that he is, he drags Jungkook by the armpits, dodging sweaty strippers and drunken guests alike as he tows the younger to the nearby restroom. Yoongi contemplates bringing Jungkook to Jimin to take care of him instead, but that idea is completely dashed the moment he sees the latter drinking shots as if it were water. The risk of having two people vomit on his shoes in one night would have been extremely high, and Yoongi isn’t an idiot. So he takes the idiot draped across his back to the toilet himself.

The restroom is empty when they arrive. When Yoongi slams the door shut, it becomes shockingly quiet as the noise from outside gets dulled to a soft throb. Yoongi immediately dumps Jungkook against one of the chipped porcelain sinks, grimacing slightly when the younger causes the sink to groan precariously from his weight.

“Hyungie,” Jungkook warbles. The sweat on his brow has made his bangs stick to his forehead in strange patterns, and Yoongi imagines he could rearrange his hair to spell out “SHITHEAD” if he so desired.

“What.” Yoongi grabs a handful of paper towels and proceeds to try (and fail) to clean the carnage on his shoes. Meanwhile, Jungkook just stands there quietly, spit long since dried on his face, adding to the sheen already there. The quietness of the restroom is both jarring and awkward compared to the insanity just behind the door, and Yoongi finds himself preferring to look at his black-turned-brown shoes instead of the boy standing just to his right.

“I think I overdid it,” Jungkook admits after a while. Yoongi chances a glance upwards before looking back down at the floor, uncomfortable when he sees the surprisingly sober face of a man who had just finished drinking ten tequila shots. 

“You think?” Yoongi snorts, rolling his eyes. He inches forward towards the sink, gently nudging Jungkook out of the way to wash his hands. Jungkook has still yet made a move towards the faucet himself, but Yoongi isn’t about to offer to clean him up either. He’s already a Samaritan for bringing him to the restroom; he’s used up all his empathy points for today.

“Y/N and Tae always say that I have severely low impulse control.”

True to form, Yoongi’s traitorous ears perk up at the mention of your name, and he finally makes full eye contact with Jungkook through the mirror. “It took two people and ten tequila shots to figure it out? Geez. No wonder you almost didn’t graduate kindergarten.”

“Hey, I told you that in confidence,” Jungkook pouts.

“Not my problem,” Yoongi retorts, indifferent. Yoongi stares at him for a moment. “Jesus. You look like a fucking mess. You sure you’re getting married next week?”

“I’m pretty sure, unless Taehyung changes his mind,” Jungkook shrugs. Well, that was certainly not quite the answer Yoongi was expecting. Yoongi must not have been quick enough to hide his surprise because Jungkook laughs coldly, the sound mirthless and paper-thin––not at all like the ridiculously mirthful manchild he’s always known him to be.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?” Yoongi had meant to say it like a joke, but his harsh tone doesn’t escape his own ears. God, he wishes he was better at this, but sue him for lacking practice at consoling other human beings.

Luckily, Jungkook takes it in stride, shrugging his shoulders. “Not really. More like… I’m in disbelief? That he’d actually… after all this time…”

Yoongi doesn’t reply at first. For as long as Yoongi has known him, the elder has never quite connected with Jungkook, for whatever reason. Hearing him speak so candidly about his feelings like this is new territory for Yoongi, and it’s strangely making him nervous. He feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention as he is faced with a side of Jungkook that Yoongi didn’t think he was capable of having. Sure, you’ve told him vaguely about the problems that Jungkook has asked advice about, but never has Yoongi ever thought that he’d be doing the same. The two of them just weren’t… like that.

“I’m sure Taehyung likes––no, loves you. A lot. Anyone with eyes can see that he absolutely adores you,” Yoongi says after a while, coughing awkwardly into his fist. God, he sucks at this. Where are you when he needs you? You always knew what to say in moments like this.

Jungkook laughs again, and it’s just as discordant as the first. He shakes his head, empty smile on his lips. “It’s not that. I don’t doubt him in the slightest. It’s more like… I’m doubting myself.”

Now that catches Yoongi’s attention. Self-doubt, loneliness, fear: if Yoongi had to be an expert on anything, it would be for those three. He… he gets it. “Jungkook, if this is about feeling like you don’t deserve him, then you’re dead wrong. You’re allowed to be loved, Jungkook. Believe me, I know more than anyone what denial feels like. The two of you aren’t going to crash and burn, okay? You’ll be fine.”

Jungkook smiles wryly at that. “Thanks. But it’s not… it’s not that.” Jungkook pauses, and it looks like the words get caught in his throat. He opens his mouth, closes it. Grimaces like he’s swallowed something bitter. He takes a deep breath, looking as uncomfortable as Yoongi feels. “Yoongi-hyung, I have a confession to make.”

Now Yoongi’s confused. “What?”

“I haven’t been… candid. With you. About…” Jungkook takes another shaky breath. “About me and Y/N.”

Yoongi’s blood runs cold. He feels the sweat start to form across his palms, and he clenches them into fists to stop them from shaking. He can almost sense the disaster before it even hits, feels the floor swimming underneath his feet, waiting to devour him whole.

“What?” Yoongi repeats.

“I’ve been thinking about it, recently. It’s been years since I last even remembered it, but then it started plaguing my dreams, and it’s… It’s ruining me. I need––I need to come clean or else I might die with regret,” Jungkook says. Yoongi still doesn’t understand what he means; Jungkook is just saying words without saying anything at all, and it’s making the wait even more terrible.

“Kook, just spit it out already.”

“Hyung, I beg of you. Please don’t think badly of me but…” Jungkook slumps to the floor just then, both the sink and his legs unable to keep him up any longer. Against his will, Yoongi tumbles with him, compelled to follow him down.

“What? What? What?”

“I kissed her,” Jungkook murmurs, voice low. Whispered like a secret. Because it is a secret, even though it isn’t any longer. Not when the words have crawled out his mouth and into Yoongi’s ears, making its way to his brain where it refuses to be understood, to be processed.

“What?” Yoongi can’t seem to remember how to breathe, much less how to speak. He can’t say anything else except, “What?”

“N-not recently. A long time ago,” Jungkook hurries, fear crossing his face when he realizes how he must have sounded. “I would never cheat on––Y/N would never cheat on you––“

His words do nothing to quell the thunderous beating in Yoongi’s chest. He can only stare as the younger jumbles over his words, fat tears starting to dribble out of his eyes like waterfalls. Why is he crying? This is so wrong.

“We––when you broke her heart, all those years ago. Before she ran away to Daegu––“

Yoongi remembers. Of course he does. He doesn’t think he can ever forget.

“––she was so so sad, and it fucking hurt. It hurt seeing her like that, you know? I… I hated you for it. So much, hyung,” Jungkook sobs, hiding behind his hands. He wipes at his face, smearing his sweat, tears, and vomit with shaky movements. “And then she kissed me but it was a mistake because she was heartbroken and she just wanted to feel––to feel something? I don’t know… And then I pushed her away––“

“You pushed her away?” Yoongi interrupts, uncharacteristically calm. He thinks like he should be screaming, maybe. Or feel jealous, even. But then again, this had happened years ago, when you and he hadn’t even been… anything, at the time. Hell, he has no right to be hurt by this. He shouldn’t even be allowed to resent Jungkook for it. Shouldn’t have to feel like he won’t be able to forgive Jungkook. So then why is he..?

Jungkook nods. “I-I did, but that’s not… the whole thing. For a while, I thought that maybe…” He curls into himself, bowing his head in shame. Yoongi doesn’t need to hear the rest to know what he was about to say.

“You used to love her, didn’t you?”  

Jungkook nods again, ashamed. Disgusted with himself. “Pathetic, right?” 

But the thing is, Yoongi already knew this. You’ve told him about Jungkook’s misplaced affections for you; it had happened during a stressful time for the both of you, and you had assured Jungkook that his feelings were just a figment of his imagination. You believed that Jungkook had just been lonely, desperate for someone to cling onto especially after all that drama between Taehyung and Hoseok at the time.

“She kept telling me that I wasn’t in love with her. And for a while, I believed her. But then, when she was about to leave for America, we… we kissed again. Just to… I wanted to make sure,” Jungkook slams his fist onto the dirty restroom floor, clawing at the tiles like an animal in pain. It’s getting harder for Yoongi to understand Jungkook through his sobs, but he is afraid of even moving lest Jungkook stops speaking. It’s like watching a car crash––no matter how much Yoongi is afraid, he can’t look away.

“When we kissed the second time... She laughed. I laughed. ‘No spark,’ was what she said. I agreed because I had no other choice but to,” Jungkook admits. He exhales like his chest has been ripped open, like he’s drowning. Yoongi feels the same way.

“It would be unfair if I said anything. To her, to you, to Taehyung… but most of all, to myself. Because it would never work. It’s not… I’m not...” Jungkook coughs, trailing off. He hacks his lungs out, forehead banging against his knees from the force. He heaves for air once, twice. Then, silence.

“Jungkook?” Yoongi whispers, momentarily stunned. When the younger doesn’t reply, he nudges his shoulder. No movement. Yoongi tilts his head upwards, only to find Jungkook’s eyelids already closed and breathing steadily through his nose. The bastard had finally passed out.

“Jesus,” Yoongi sighs, letting go of the younger and letting him crumple to the floor. Yoongi contemplates passing out as well. “Jesus,” Yoongi repeats.

He sits there in silence for a while, accompanied only by his thoughts and the muffled sounds of the party outside. He doesn’t know how long he sits there for, only thinks to leave the restroom when a young couple (Jungkook’s college friends) burst in while making out, both incognizant of the odd pair slumped on the floor.

Yoongi leaves Jungkook there, but not before sending a short text to Jimin to go check on Jungkook, and sending another one to Taehyung for good measure. Yoongi rushes out of the club without looking back, feeling slightly more empty than he had before the night started.

You don’t comment when Yoongi comes back home earlier than expected. You don’t even scold him for breaking his side in the agreement. Wrapped up in blankets in front of the TV, you wordlessly open up your cocoon to let him slither in beside you, allowing him to wrap his cold feet against your legs. You don’t even complain when he falls asleep without another word, just gently caressing his hair as he descends into fitful dreams. He doesn’t bring up the party the next day, and neither do you.

The following week, the two of you attend Taehyung and Jungkook’s wedding.

[therainroguefanfiction]

⚘ A Sick Ride (Tobio Kageyama)

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff, AU

Word Count: 3,332

Pairing: Reader x Kageyama

World: Haikyuu!!

Prompt(s): A is sick and B takes care of them. / “Checkmate, sweetheart.” / Uber Driver AU

Author’s Note: This was written for the weekly-prompt (08/26/20) over on @hqbookclub​ ‘s discord server – you should check it out if you haven’t ;)

━━━━━━༻⚘༺━━━━━━

Being an uber driver came with its fair share of headaches, but the pros heavily outweighed the cons. You were your own boss, working when you chose to rather than being stuck to a schedule, and if you didn’t want to drive someone because they were being a jerk, you didn’t have to. Most of the time, your clients were kind and respectful, keeping to themselves or making small talk, and the tips were great. Your rating on the app was above average because of this, but not top notch because you weren’t afraid to tell people off when they acted stupid.

Most of your clientele were repeat customers that appreciated your work ethic and professionalism, so they specifically requested you whenever possible. Because of this, you stopped taking new customers so you could focus on your repeat customers. One of the biggest clients that you dealt with was a man named Kageyama Tobio who, despite being fresh out of high school, was on a professional volleyball team representing Japan at the Olympics. He lived in a penthouse in Tokyo and clearly had more money than he knew what to do with, judging by how he tips without even counting the amount of money he offered you. He was a silent customer, preferring to keep to himself and get some rest between his interviews and practice games, which was fine with you.

You pulled up outside the penthouse, pulling out your phone to let him know that you were waiting outside and, like always, he responded with one word. You glanced at the sky, seeing the dark clouds rolling in. It was super humid outside, the summer heat nearly unbearable. The AC in the car wasn’t nearly as cold as usual because of it, but it was better than nothing.

The back door was pulled open, Kageyama practically throwing himself into the backseat. You glanced at him through the rear view mirror and frowned, turning in your seat to get a better look at him. His face was unusually pale, dark bags sitting beneath his bloodshot eyes, and the tip of his nose was bright red. He looked like absolute hell.

“Kageyama -”

“I’m going to be late,” he mumbled under his breath, body slumping down against the seat as he closed his eyes.

Chewing on your lip, you reluctantly started the GPS and pulled away from the curb. The ride was silent, broken only by the sound of the AC working hard to keep the car cool, and you found yourself glancing back at him every few minutes, but he didn’t shift from his position once. When you reached the office building where his next interview would be taking place, you parked the car and glanced back at him.

“We’re here,” you stated, but he didn’t move, making you turn in your seat. “Kageyama?” You reached out to him, feeling heat pouring off of his skin before you even made contact. When your fingers touched his forehead, your eyes widened. ‘He has a serious fever. Shit, what do I do?’ You turned back around, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you looked at the building. ‘He’s certainly not up for an interview…’ After a couple minutes of internally debating with yourself, you put the car in drive and headed back the way you had come.

Thunder began to rumble overhead as you got closer to the penthouse, rattling the windows of the car. Rather than pulling up at the front of the building like you normally would, you pulled into the parking garage where you came to a stop in front of the metal arm. The old man sitting in the booth started toward you, so you rolled the window down with a soft smile. “Good afternoon.”

“Afternoon.” He smiled back, tipping the hat he wore that matched his security uniform. “Are you here to visit someone? I’ll have to call up to them to verify.”

“Ah, no, actually…” You cleared your throat, a bead of nervous sweat rolling down your cheek. “I’m an uber driver that came here to pick up Kageyama-san, but he passed out in the backseat.”

The man tilted his body forehead to look into the back of the car, lips tugging downward. “I keep telling that boy he’s going to work himself to death. I saw him this morning and told him he looked sickly but he just waved me off.” He straightened his back with a huff, moving his hand as if he were swiping at an invisible fly. “I’ll let you through. Make sure he gets to his suite safely, you hear? Suite 305 on the eight floor.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” You nodded, turning your attention in front of you as the metal arm slowly started to rise up, allowing you to drive through the opening into the garage. You took the first available space before turning off the engine, dropping your keys into your pocket. As you headed for the opposite side of the car, your eyes scanned the garage, looking for someone that might be able to offer some assistance, but that level was empty. Thunder rumbled again, louder and stronger as the first signs of rain began to tumble from the sky.

You pulled the back door open, gently shaking his shoulder. “Kageyama-san. I know you don’t feel good but please wake up.”

A barely audible whine passed his lips, but he didn’t wake from his slumber, making you hang your head. You couldn’t just leave him in the car, he needed to get into bed so he could recover, but you were worried about your ability to carry him. Now, you had been on the wrestling team back in high school, so you were naturally stronger than the average person, but that was nearly three years ago and you certainly hadn’t kept up with your training in that time. Bringing your hand to your chin, your eyes scanned his body. Despite the slightly baggy clothes he wore, you knew that the volleyball player was mostly muscle and you imagined he probably weighed around a hundred and sixty pounds or so.

‘I can totally do this.’ With a nod, you carefully unbuckled his seat belt, having to hold him up so his body wouldn’t slump farther into the car. “I’m just putting this out there, if you want to wake up just long enough to help me out here, that’s be great.” But still, he did not stir. “Okay, fine. Be that way.”

With a huff, you brought his body closer to the edge of the seat, sliding your arms beneath his body. You originally wanted to carry him on your back, but getting him there seemed much more dangerous than you originally thought. ‘Guess he’s gonna be a princess today. Remember to lift with your legs,’ you grunted at his weight, but it was doable. Your arms would hate you later for it, but you felt confident that they could handle it long enough to get him upstairs.

Once he was out of the car, you kicked the door shut and headed for the elevator, having to bend your body so you could tap the button with your knuckle. It seemed to descend at the pace of a slug that had eaten its fill of your grandma’s plant, but it finally arrived with a ding, the doors sliding open. As you stepped inside, Kageyama shifted closer to you, his face falling against your neck as his long gingers clutched at your shirt, soft mumbles passing his lips. Heat rushed to your face, but you convinced yourself that it was just because of his flushed skin pressed against your own and not because you were currently carrying a very attractive celebrity athlete.

It was a struggle to press the eighth floor because it was higher than where your hands currently sat, but with some mild determination and a threat to ‘smash the button so many times it will forget its purpose’, you finally managed it, releasing a sigh as you leaned back against the wall. ‘What has my life become?’ You wondered, your eyes trained on the red digits above the door, slowly climbing toward the number eight. ‘He is my best customer, after all. I think his tips alone have earned a little special treatment. Besides, I’m just going to drop him off and then leave, he’ll never even know.’

The elevator lurched to a stop, dinging loudly as the doors slowly slid open and you stepped out, scanning the long hallway. ‘Let’s see, that one says 310 – 315.’ Your eyes shifted to the left. ‘And that one says 300 – 309.’ You started down the left side of the hallway, having to stop so you could readjust the man in your arms, which were quickly going numb.

At the realization, you walked a bit faster, eyes scanning the golden engraved plates by each door until you found the one you were looking for, but there was a problem. ‘How in the nine hells am I supposed to get inside?’ You glanced at the man, feeling your face grow hot again at the mere thought of rifling through his pockets, but… what choice did you have?

The door down the hall creaked open and then closed a moment later, a woman in her early sixties stepping out into the hall pushing a cleaning cart. She paused when she saw you, suspicious because she knew every single person that lived or worked on the first ten floors and she had never once seen you before.

You cleared your throat, forcing a smile that you hoped didn’t appear guilty. “Hello! My, uhm… friend lives here but he kind of overworked himself and passed out, would it be possible to open the door for me so I can put him to bed?”

For a moment, she just stood there, her narrowed eyes darting between you and the navy haired male, and then without a word, she pulled a set of keys from her pocket, approaching the door. You stepped back to give her room, wishing she would move a little bit faster because you didn’t know how much longer your arms would hold up.

When she finally got the door open, she paused, her narrowed eyes returning to your face. You shifted awkwardly, feeling as if she were looking into your very soul. Finally, her lips parted and she said in a raspy voice, “Take care of that idiotic blueberry.”

You blinked in surprise, watching as she returned to her cart and continued down the hall, knocking on the next door down before entering. ‘What a strange woman.’ You shook your head, stepping into the cool apartment. It was fairly modern, with very little decorations – and the few posters that he did have were all volleyball related. There was a small hallway just inside the door that opened up into a large area, the kitchen on the left with a small island and the living room on the right. The general colors of the place were white and grey, with a couple of other neutral or dark tones splashed in here and there. Beyond the kitchen was a short hallway that held three doors and since the first door was cracked open, you checked that one first.

‘Score!’ You grinned, stepping into the room and using your elbow to flip the switch, bathing the room with a soft yellow glow. Unlike the other room, his bedroom featured dark blues and greys, his sheets the same color as his hair. You gently laid him down, releasing a sigh of relief for your arms, which shook lightly from the horror that they had been subjected to. ‘Now I can leave and get back to work,’ you thought, turning toward the door, but something made you pause and look back at him. His breathing was heavy, mouth parted because he couldn’t get air through his nose. His face was a deep shade of red, a thin sheen of sweat dripping down his skin. You honestly felt bad just leaving him like that. ‘Damn you, Y/N, and your empathy!’

With a groan of frustration, you left the room to search the bathroom for a thermometer, but there was none there. Instead, you grabbed a washcloth from the rack bolted to the wall and headed into the kitchen, running it under cold water before wringing it out. You checked the cabinets and then the drawers, finally finding the thermometer in the junk drawer. You took the cap off, running it under hot water for a moment before drying it with a paper towel and heading back to his bedroom.

First, you folded the towel and set it across his forehead before carefully setting the tip of the thermometer into his mouth, forcing his mouth closed until it started to beep. ‘103° F… damn. I can’t really do anything until he wakes up.’

The phone within his coat pocket started to buzz loudly, making the boy stir in his sleep, a groan leaving his lips. You pulled the phone from his pocket, seeing the name Sawako Akimi flashing across the screen. Your thumb lowered only to lift again as you debated on whether or not to answer the phone, but then it stopped ringing, only for a text message to come through from the same person.

• ‘Where in the world are you, Tobio?’

You frowned at the use of his first name, but you knew it made sense that he would have a girlfriend considering how attractive and successful he is at such a young age. Before you could reply to the message and explain the situation, she continued.

• ‘You’re missing your interview! Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to secure this for you?’

• ‘I can’t believe you’ve done this to me. The looks these people are giving me!’

• ‘If you’re playing volleyball at the Y again, I swear, Tobio!’

Taking a breath, you started to type out a message before she could send another. ‘Hello there, my name is Y/N and I apologize for messaging you like this but I thought you should know that Kageyama-san is currently sleeping. I’m his uber driver and he passed out in the backseat of my car, he’s got the flue, I think. I brought him back to his room and I’m going to leave now, but I thought you should know :)’

She responded instantly.

• ‘Who the hell are you? Is this a joke?’

• ‘Who do you think you are using his phone?’

• ‘Don’t you dare move, I’ve called the cops! You’re going to be arrested for breaking and entering, stalking, plus assault! Checkmate, sweetheart. You fans are so disgusting, honestly.’

Your heart started to race within your chest at the words and you quickly tapped the power button to turn off the screen, setting it onto the bedside table. ‘Shit, what am I supposed to do? I should leave, but… won’t that make me look guilty? There’s no way to prove my story, though…’

Kageyama shifted, his eyes fluttering open. His body felt sore and heavy, as if he had been hit by a truck and he could’t recall where he last was. He could feel his sweaty body beneath his clothing, feel the burn in his nose when he tried to breathe through his nostrils. As he forced himself into a sitting position, his stomach churned and he slapped his hand over his mouth, bolting from the bed to rush to the bathroom where he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

You frowned as you came up behind him, softly rubbing his back to try and soothe him as he dry heaved. Though the thought of being arrested for trying to help worried you, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him alone when he was feeling so ill. ‘I am so going to regret this. What if I get fired? Shit.’

Kageyama pushed himself up until his back hit the side of the tub, rubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were half-lidded as they stared at you, clouded with misery. “Why…” his voice was hoarse and raw as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “Why are you here?”

“You passed out in my car,” you explained with a frown. “What were you thinking, trying to go to an interview when you’re sick? I know I have no right to lecture you, but that was really stupid.”

His eyes widened at the mention of the interview and he groaned, letting his head fall backward. “Shit… the interview…”

“Yeah, about that -”

A loud banging echoed throughout the suite, followed by a loud male voice. “Police! Open up!”

You gave him a sheepish smile before standing up and heading to the door, pulling it open. Two officers stood on the other side of the door, looking at you suspiciously. “Hello, please come in.”

“We’re looking for Kageyama Tobio, the owner of this suite.” The first officer, Karaki, didn’t spare you a glance as he looked around the suite, looking for anything out of place.

“He’s in the bathroom -”

“And who are you?” The second office, Akimaru, eyed you suspiciously, his hand on his belt.

“My name is L/N F/N and I -”

“Did you get them, officers?!” A woman came rushing through the door, breathing heavily. Her eyes landed on you and she scowled angrily. “What are you waiting for? Arrest them! They entered this apartment illegally!”

“Calm down, ma’am,” Akimaru commented, holding his hands up when she tried to get closer to you. “We have to assess the situation.”

“Assess the – are you stupid? They are clearly a fan trying to take advantage of Tobio! I demand you arrest them!”

“Umm, I was just trying to help,” you sweatdropped, holding up your hands in surrender.

“That’s what they all say!” She scowled, putting her hand on her hip. “Fans always believe they are helping, but they are only helping themselves!”

You scowled, starting to feel annoyed by this screeching woman. “I am not his fan, I don’t even follow volleyball!”

“Yeah, right!”

“Will you stop screaming,” Kageyama slowly shuffled into the room, arm across his stomach. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“Tobio!” She rushed past the cops, pulling the taller male into a hug that he clearly didn’t want, his nose scrunching up. “Don’t worry, this psycho will be arrested for what they’ve done to you.”

He rolled his eyes, pushing her back with more effort than usual because of his weakened state. “Y/N isn’t going anywhere.” His eyes turned to the cops. “My name is Kageyama Tobio and I asked them over to take care of me while I’m sick.”

“Why are you lying for them?” The woman huffed. “I have the messages for pro -”

“Please go away, Sawako-san. I’m not in the mood for your theatrics. I’m going back to bed.” His dark eyes met yours and he reached out to you, waving his hand. You took the hint, following him back into the bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I’m sorry about all this…”

Kageyama fell onto the bed with a groan, his half-lidded eyes landing on you. “S’fine. Thank you… for helping me.”

You smiled softly, picking up the damp rag that had fallen to the end of the bed when he sat up, gently placing it on the back of his neck which elicited a soft sigh from his lips. “You’re welcome, Kageyama-san.”

His eyes slid closed as sleep started to tug at his consciousness. His words were soft, barely audible, and you had to take a minute to process them because of that. When they finally registered, though, you couldn’t help the smile that came to your lips.

“Call me… Tobio…”

You gently brushed the hair away from his eyes. “Rest well… Tobio.”

━━━━━━༻⚘༺━━━━━━

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[therubyjailcell]

Strong - [Spiderverse Roman centric & Prinxiety angst]

Okay, so, old fic again, written in the TS Spiderverse server back in January (12th I think), and then modified and edited afterwards. I then proceeded to forget where I had put the fic. I’m organised, I swear. Anyway. Based of a prompt by @not-cam-pad, as most of my Spiderverse fic, and as always, written for @sugarglider9603 and @ask-spiderverse-virgil‘s AU. Angst with a happy ending for Sugar.

Word Count: 1792

TW: angst, self loathing, anger, description of injuries, description of a panic attack, probably swearing (I can’t talk without swearing)

On January 12th 2019, Cam said in the Discord “Roman? Everyone thinks he’s afraid of failure. Maybe he’s afraid of succeeding. Maybe he’s afraid that one day he’ll go too far Because he’s always been reckless But maybe one day He’ll just do one thing worse. And break the one rule he can never break Roman’s always been known for pushing the limits physically He always goes a little too hard fighting the bad guys Because they’re bad, right? And He’s Good But the look Thomas gives him They way Patton edges around him after a hard fight Makes him wonder if maybe he’s going too hard And it just Hits him somewhere So he starts trying to hold back, pull his punches But then one of them gets too close to getting Virgil, or one of the others And he snaps And by the time they get him off the man He has to go to the hospital Over ten broken bones Concussion He’s nearly dead.”

To what I answered… A small fic. Angst, as usual.

–

Everyone looked at him after The Incident. They all stayed away, kept their distance. Virgil had been in danger, the villain had grabbed him and was going to hurt him, and Roman had just snapped. Roman could feel how they looked at him, how Patton flinched slightly whenever he moved too fast, how protective Logan was of Patton and Virgil, how he stared and studied each and every of Roman’s move, how Thomas looked at him with worry and sadness. And Virgil. Virgil was silent.

Roman didn’t see it, but Virgil tried talking to him, except Logan wouldn’t let him be alone with Roman. Roman didn’t see it, but Virgil didn’t talk to anybody else either. Roman didn’t hear it, but Virgil cried silently at night every night, in the kitchen, because he wasn’t allowed to sleep near Roman, and he couldn’t sleep without him. Virgil didn’t know what to do. And Roman stayed alone, went to train on his own, punching walls in to be destroyed buildings and places where nobody could see him.

Roman was angry, and it showed. Roman was angry, and his eyes were always furious, it was like he barely paid attention to anyone anymore. Roman was angry, and he didn’t notice Patton’s worried glances directed at him (not the others), nor Logan grabbing Virgil’s arms to prevent him from going to his boyfriend. And when the next enemy appeared, Roman took all his anger out on him, and none of the others dared to try and stop him. None except Virgil. He stepped in. He walked up to Roman and forced him to let go. Only then did the Spidergang push Roman away from the bad guy. Thomas and Logan lectured him afterwards, once they got home. Patton stayed silent. Virgil wanted to disappear. Roman left without listening to any of them. He was angry, Thomas and Logan were too, and nobody noticed Virgil walking out of the room in silence.

Roman didn’t came back. He was gone, Virgil didn’t talk, and Patton felt like everything was broken. Thomas and Logan were angry, but Thomas felt guilty, while Logan kept saying “it’s better this way, at least we’re safe.” Patton noticed Virgil leaving the house every so often, without warning anyone. Nobody but him noticed how little the young man slept anymore. Virgil searched the town, everywhere, to find Roman. When he did find him, he didn’t try to talk to him, didn’t say he was there. He watched Roman being angry, he watched him train on his own, he watched him destroy things. Virgil didn’t know what to do, he felt like he had lost Roman, and he felt guilty, so guilty, because he hadn’t managed to help him before, and didn’t deserve to talk to Roman anymore. And Roman was angry at the world, but mostly at himself, and he destroyed things and stayed on his own. Virgil was barely with the others anymore at this point. He knew it wasn’t good, that they were worried, but he watched Roman, because that was all he could do by then. He watched, and nobody asked where he went all the time, because that’s what they were now, a broken family.

Roman turned rogue. He felt like it didn’t matter anyway, and nobody was there to stop him. He turned bad, as in destruction bad. He didn’t attack people directly, but he attacked buildings, and if there were people in it, well, they should’ve gotten out before. Soon, the Spidergang had to fight him. And Patton saw Virgil’s world break when he learned the news of the imminent fight, but the young man didn’t look shocked. Virgil saw Roman breaking and he didn’t do anything, and he felt like he deserved his world breaking. Nobody else noticed.  Thomas and Logan would fight, they were ready. Because they could see Roman as an enemy now, after all he had done. Of course, they were sad, they didn’t like it, but he was dangerous. Patton wasn’t sure. He was scared. Virgil didn’t look like he cared.

Before they knew it, there was already so much damage done. Patton made sure all civilians were safe, he couldn’t bring himself to fight Roman. Logan and Thomas weren’t in the best of shape, Roman was stronger. Virgil had dodged. He had stayed apart, and nobody had noticed. He had watched the destruction of the buildings around the fight, made sure nobody would get hurt by the things falling. But then, with Thomas and Logan hurt and Patton unable to fight Roman, he had to come in. Virgil walked up to Roman and fell on his knees. He wouldn’t fight him. Not Roman. He couldn’t fight him. So he took a deep breath. And he spoke. Because that was all he could do, because he would not hurt Roman. Not again.

“It’s my fault. I give up. You win. I won’t fight back, just get your victory.”

Roman froze. He hadn’t planned this. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to react. Logan and Thomas got up and were about to run to him, but Patton prevented them from doing so. “Virgil is a big boy, and if he doesn’t want to hurt Roman, then we won’t hurt Roman. We’re family.”

Virgil looked at Roman, and he shook his head. “I won’t fight back, I promise.”

And because Roman still didn’t move, Virgil kept speaking. He was crying, and you could hear it in his voice. “I need to pay for what I’ve done, I know I do, I won’t fight back.”

Roman could very well picture Virgil’s face behind the mask. He knew what Virgil looked like when he was crying, when his voice sounded like that. And Virgil was speaking again, to him, for the first time in forever. And Virgil was there, and Virgil was crying. And for the first time in months, Roman wasn’t angry anymore. He was sad, and desperate, and lost, and confused, and terrified, and he had done so many awful things, and Virgil was crying.

Virgil sobbed. Once. Twice. Roman fell on his knees. Virgil was slouching, on his knees, begging Roman to end this and make him pay for everything, because it was his fault (at least that’s what he said). He was shaking, violently. Roman wanted to reach out. He wanted to protect Virgil from the world, but Virgil didn’t need that, Virgil needed protection from Roman himself (at least that’s what he thought).

Thomas stayed silent, on the side. He could feel it, in his heart, that it was Roman, their Roman, not the ball of anger and hate they were previously fighting. Logan stopped trying to get to Virgil, because he could see Roman gave up. Patton cried, because he could see his friends hurting, so bad.

Virgil sobbed, and gasped for air, and cried, and he looked to Roman and saw him on his knees, shaking and crying too. And Roman’s hand, halfway through reaching to him but not quite there, as he stopped in the middle of reaching to Virgil. And Roman. Roman looking at Virgil through his tears, and unable to speak, or to move now, frozen, terrified.

“Roman…?”

Virgil’s voice was broken, and small, so small. It was the voice he had when he was having a panic attack. It was the voice he had when he was asking if the world hated him. All he said was Roman’s name, and yet it sounded like he was asking if the world hated him. The question was clear, it was “Please don’t hate me”, it was “Please don’t break me”,  it was Virgil’s guilt, and terror, and Roman broke a little more, over and over. He would never forget that sound, the way Virgil said his name. Roman simply nodded, the smallest nod in the world, and he wasn’t sure if Virgil saw it, but he couldn’t do more than that. Virgil saw it. He took Roman’s hand, slowly. And Roman held it with both of his immediately, slouching over, shaking, crying, sobbing, mumbling apologies and begging for help and forgiveness.

Logan, Patton and Thomas slowly made their way toward Virgil and Roman. They were slow, didn’t want to startle any of them, but the two others were just shaking, and crying, and holding onto each other, and never letting go. Patton was the one who hugs them first, followed by Thomas, and finally Logan joined. Thomas helped them get up, Roman holding onto Virgil, and they looked like they would never let go of each other, ever. They didn’t want to let go. Ever.

When they got home, Roman sat on the couch, his head in his hands, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Virgil sat right next to him. Everyone was silent. Roman whispered a broken apology. Nobody spoke again for a while. Thomas decided they all needed to eat and rest, that they needed to talk but it could wait, because it had been hard for everyone. Patton threw Logan a warning look, but Logan didn’t even try to ask if Virgil and Roman were going to stay together. Obviously they would.

And there, laying together, next to each other, holding onto each other and tight, Roman apologised again. He couldn’t not apologies. He felt awful. Virgil stared at him and asked what for. Roman started listing, with how violent he got, how he left, how he hurt everyone. Virgil simply caressed his cheek softly and whispered he never felt safer than in his arms, and wasn’t ever afraid of him. Roman cried a little, and Virgil told him they’d get through this together.

After that, they talked. Together, then with the others. Roman wasn’t allowed on missions for a while, he didn’t care. He took care of them when they came back. He took care of Virgil, always. And when they went on a mission one day, and Thomas looked at Roman and smiled slightly, “Come on, get ready, we had some ass to kick”, Roman felt like they gave him the world. He thanked Virgil and Patton, because he knew they were the ones who convinced Thomas and Logan to let him come back.

And when Virgil told him he was watching him, all this time, when he was training, then Roman felt a little better. Because he wasn’t all alone. And when Virgil asked him to help him train, Roman agreed right away. And soon, Roman was helping everyone train. And that was how he took out his anger. By helping the others.

It wasn’t perfect, obviously. Sometimes Roman got angry. But Virgil could always reach out to him. And he always got better. They were all together in this.

~~

Gen Taglist:

@sweetsweetemo @emologan @croftered-with-jam

[faewihngs]

      hiya, my name is fae. i’ve been really looking to do some 1x1 rp’s for a while now ( mostly on discord cause it’s easier for me ). i really want some f/f and m/f, but i only have one muse ( kind of? she’s half developed ). so i figured i’d share some plots that i’d love to do. feel free to message me or like this if you’re interested ( and please be 18+ )

      i am absolutely up for smut, though it isn’t needed.

P L O T S

( cr. ) can someone pls give me a thing w/ a VERY innocent girl that wears a lot of pastel pink and lace who hasn’t done anything bad w / anyone but HAS kissed one person which was her boyfriend, who her parents arranged her to be with. she never felt   RIGHT   when she was with him, but she hated to be alone so she stayed with him,  then all of a sudden she meets a   GIRL   at a party, covered with tattoos   &   maybe a couple piercings,  who takes an immediate interest in her  &  wants her story.  they talk all night about everything, not wanting to leave each other.  then,  the innocent girl admits that she has been curious about experimenting with girls, but she never tried it for being too scared.  (    maybe they kiss or even more,  its a personal choice.    )  ANYWAY next day comes around and there’s a family get together at her boyfriends house, and the innocent girl walks in and   BAM   who does she see   ??   the girl from the night before dressed up with no piercings in  &  a long sleeve shirt covering her tattoos,   and surprise surprise  ??   she’s her boyfriends sister who is visiting from across the country.

( cr. | i’d love this as f/f or m/f )  he’s the resident bad boy she’s the innocent little flower they fall in love they date he breaks her heart for whatever reason she cries THEY TOLD ME NOT TO TRUST YOU they break up he pretends not to care some asshole hits on her he beats the living crap out of said asshole whilst screaming DON’T YOU EVER GO NEAR HER AGAIN I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU SHE’S THE BEST FUCKING THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO ME GODDAMMIT

( cr. | absolutely love this as f/f ) i want to have a plot where ballerina/bad boy and she has very strict parents and they force to dedicate her life to dancing which she agrees to until she meets a boy who smokes a lot, gets into a lot of fights, and always has a cocky smile on his face. but she doesn’t mind because he makes her feel like she isn’t someone’s doll anymore, like a normal person. 

( cr. | i’d love to play muse a, and this could be f/f or m/f ) so Muse A is a broke ass college student who is struggling to even eat each day and is working two jobs while still in school. Muse B is a CEO of a large corporation and a multi-millionaire. One night Muse A was scrolling through the internet and finds a website that sets you up with potential sugar daddies and Muse B sends Muse A a message right away and basically says if you come live with me for the summer and pretend to be in a relationship with me and ocassionally give me head or something like that, I’ll fucking take care of you 

( cr. | i’d love this as f/f or m/f ) i know lots of people get all hot and heavy for the ‘rebel/bad influence who goes after the goody goody/nerd to corrupt them’ but what about the reverse? what if the rebel was the one minding their own business when the goody goody suddenly started approaching them, asking them out, trying to get to know them. constant pestering and cute little quips that leave the rebel flustered (and a little flattered but don’t tell the goody goody shhh).just picture it. initially people think the rebel is the one giving the goody goody a hard time but instead the rebel’s trying to avoid getting seen with the other a lot bc no you’re too pure and sweet you’re gonna ruin my punk rock image sTOP. but the goody goody just doesn’t care about image or labels they just know that they want the rebel and dammit they’re gonna get the rebel.

( cr. |  i’d love this as f/f or m/f, and to be muse b ) MUSE A AND MUSE B ARE FRIENDS AND THEY’RE ROUGHHOUSING/PLAY-FIGHTING BUT MUSE A TUGS MUSE B’S HAIR AND MUSE B ACCIDENTALLY MOANS HAHA COOL 

THIS.

honestly, feel free to throw ideas at me.

my current muse is Marinette Hallows, who has Danielle Rose Russell as a fc. but i’m absolutely open to making a new muse, though i really only play girls.

[paranoidsbible]

Ending Hate & Bullying

Ending Hate & Bullying Non-profit and free for redistribution Written on November 08th | 2014 Published on November 08th | 2015 For entertainment and research purposes only

================================================= DISCLAIMER The Paranoid's Bible and its writers hold no responsibility for the acts of others. The Paranoid’s Bible is for research and entertainment purposes only. Please visit our blog for more PDFs and information: http://www.paranoidsbible.tumblr.com/ ================================================= Contents DISCLAIMER    2 Preface    4 What is Bullying?    5 Freedom of Speech and Bullying    6 Trolling Isn’t Bullying    7 Cyber-Stalking Is Not Real    8 You’re Not Your Sexuality    9 Don’t Be a Bully    10 AFTERWORD    11 ================================================= Preface The who: People that have decided to combine their resources to create a repository of information. The what: A guide to helping people deal with hate and bullying online. The where: The internet: An abused form of communication, education and betterment of mankind. The why: To give people the tools needed to survive. ================================================= What is Bullying? According to Wikipedia, Bullying is described as thus: “Bullying is the use of force, threat, or coercion to abuse, intimidate, or aggressively dominate others. The behavior is often repeated and habitual. One essential prerequisite is the perception, by the bully or by others, of an imbalance of social or physical power, which distinguishes bullying from conflict.” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bullying) It seems pretty straight-forward, especially with the types of behavior they describe as bullying, which include things like coercion, threats, physical assault, or even verbal harassment. Wikipedia even goes on to claim that supposed rationalizations by the "Bully" include things like, social class, race, religion, gender, sexual orientation, appearance, behavior, body language, personality, reputation, lineage, strength, size or ability. The page from Wikipedia also explains that bullying by a group is called mobbing and that the U.K. has no official definition for it, whereas some states within the U.S. not only do have an active definition, but also laws against it. The issue with Wikipedia’s description, and the overall belief of bullying, is that “digital harassment” / “cyber bullying” somehow warrants the same actions and laws as the bullying that takes place in the physical realm of the offline world. The problem with “cyber bullying” itself is that, unlike bullying in the offline world, you can remove yourself from it. Cyber bullying is also undefined and is usually used as a blanketed term to cover something that upsets or offends people.  The cyber bullying many people discuss, especially the mainstream media, is one that amounts to coordinated harassment in the form of unwarranted comments, private messages, e-mails and overall childish and immature antics like for example: A constant, steady stream of spam that is usually filled with racial and/or sexual expletives. Another issue is that with current trends, people have taken to calling anything and everything they feel offends them or a perceived minority as cyber bullying. This is mostly seen, though, on social media and networks like Facebook, Twitter, Deviantart and Tumblr. By labeling anything and everything as trolling, cyber bullying or overall harassment… we end up with a diluted sense of what is or isn’t actual harassment and bullying. This causes the most minor and/or accidental forms of aggression to be seen as an act of all out war against someone. To cut the fear mongering created by the government and various charities that make money off the “bullying scare,” we’d simply like to state this: You can prevent a lot of so-called cyber bullying. ================================================= Freedom of Speech and Bullying There have been several attempts at removing freedom of speech (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freedom_of_speech) from not only the offline world, but also the digital one. Some people propose the removal of the limited anonymity of the internet to a full-fledged war on privacy itself through permanent IDs and horrendous acts of censorship VIA the removal of one’s internet connection. Many people think a means to end bullying, online or offline, is to stifle and censor people through a bastardization of social justice (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_justice) or through the use of forced “self-policing” created by identity politics (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Identity_politics), but it isn’t—it only serves to stifle and censor any and all who dare question those in charge. Freedom of speech, at least in the U.S., will always be about your right to say and state your opinions and ideas without fear of government retaliation or censorship however you want, wherever you want, within reason. You see, freedom of speech means you can say whatever you want, however you can’t go into a privately owned residence or establishment and start spewing whatever it is you wish. People have their rights to privacy, speech and security just like you, yet that doesn’t mean you’ve the right to invade their area with your speech. This though is easily measured in several easy to remember rules: • Is this a privately owned establishment or residence? • Have they stated or placed a set of rules stating what I can and can’t do? • Is this place for a specific group (members…etc) only? • Have they personally committed an act of aggression against me? • Are they near public property that I or others may use to voice our issues? • Are they a private citizen, a celeb, a business owner, religious person of importance (priest, pope…etc), an activist or a politician? • Have they set aside a “Free speech zone”? • Does my “Freedom of speech” violate other rights? • Have I asked permission to use their property? While many will bring up the harm principle or some other such argument, you should think for yourself and think before you act. Assess the situation, look at what you want to say and/or do, then look for other methods to deliver your message (like a flier or pamphlet), but we digress. Unlike the physical realm of the offline world, people can actively silence (ban) you by removing you and your account from their website(s). Websites and the communities created on them have to follow the laws of the U.S., and other countries’ laws, to an extent. This doesn’t mean they have to respect you or your feelings, though. There are no laws stating you’ve the right to not be offended and because of this you must realize you’re ultimately at fault if you become offended or attacked over something you or some else has said. Remember: You don’t have the right to an account or say on anyone’s websites or their communities or accounts. You must follow their rules, guidelines and TOS—you’ve no rights online, no matter what you think. If you dislike this, then you can make your own website, forum, chat or whatever you wish. Trolling Isn’t Bullying Trolling is described as, “someone purposely being chaotic and sowing discord amongst a community or individual profile.” This is supposedly done to either bait a person into doing something idiotic or to take away from a topic being discussed. Others also will describe trolling as similar to performance art where only the most subtle and intelligent can successfully pull off an attempt, whereas even more will claim it is a sub-culture based around a meme or some silly image of a stylized smiling face. Regardless of what you think, trolling isn’t truly bullying and never will be due to the simple fact you can not only ignore, but also block so-called trolls. Many people will proclaim that someone typing mean things and sending it to another user is bullying, yet as the old internet adage goes “Don’t feed the trolls!” -- This adage is something all should take to heart, as simply ignoring someone and the things they say can defuse a situation on the internet quite quickly. Bullying isn’t textual, nor is it someone spamming you with racial epithets. You can ignore those things quite easily with no real physical or mental abuse ever being possible. Growing your figurative “thicker skin” will help you out a lot in the end when it comes to the internet. You must realize, though, that the internet is like the Wild West and once you start participating instead of lurking, you open yourself up to the criticism and opinions of others. No matter how much this upsets or offends you, the more you push to silence or ban others, the more people will push back at you. Take breaks often and learn compartmentalization. The less people know about you, the less they can harass you for something offline. And please, learn, the internet is akin to shoveling manure. The more of your manure (opinions) that you fling around, the more others will fling back twice as hard. ================================================= Cyber-Stalking Is Not Real Before you discontinuing reading and disregard this entire PDF, let me explain – Cyber-stalking (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyberstalking) is stalking. There are no differences between the two once it delves into the offline realm; however cyber-stalking still doesn’t exist. Someone following your digital footprint from one account to the next and connecting the dots by cross-referencing the information, that you provided on those accounts, is nothing more than simple deduction. A lot of so called cyber-stalking (sending harassing e-mails or IMs, etc) can be likened to that of trolling. If you ignore the person and not feed them any attention, they usually give up and leave you alone. However, if you’ve a multitude of accounts across the internet, and you’ve shared a lot of information, then it won’t be as easy to simply ignore the person. Again, we’ll state that simple OPSEC (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operations_security) and compartmentalization (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compartmentalization_(information_security)) goes quite far in small doses. There are a few, very simple steps that you can take to ensure your safety when creating an account online. Now, of course, you can head over to our blog and click on our library link for PDFs on a plethora of topics that range from anti-doxing to OPSec or even things like cosplay safety, but we digress. If you simply want the Reader’s Digest version of the safety tips, then continue reading! Tips for creating a secure account: • Always use a strong password created by using special characters, upper and lower case letters, and numbers (Example: *_9233(DAv234)-) • Always ensure the password for each account is different and is at least 8 to 10 characters long • Always use a new e-mail address for each account, never using the same one for an account • Always use a different username for each account that’s in no way connected to your name or nicknames • Never post your real world information online (name, age, address, city, state, time zone, school name…etc) • Never cross-link accounts on other accounts (as in don’t tell people about your other accounts) You also want to try and lessen your already existing digital footprint by checking out our PDF called the “Paranoid’s Bible” at our library link on our blog. This will provide you with much more information that you can use to further lessen your footprint and ensure you have a safe and enjoyable internet stay. Other than the above, we can’t provide much on actual stalking as once you believe someone from the internet is stalking you offline (as in physically, not just dox) then you need to tell an adult, if you’re not one, and contact the police as quickly as possible. We also have a home safety and security PDF in our library that can help you secure your home and lessen intrusions. ================================================= You’re Not Your Sexuality Many people online love to treat every little thing about themselves like an attribute or a part of a description of some character or another. This, however, is quite dangerous as this provides other individuals with cannon fodder to be used against you. It may seem like someone oppressing you or trying to stifle your freedom of expression, yet it isn’t anything like that. On the internet, people love to generate drama from nothing for the simple mission of creating the illusion that there exist some great inequalities still happening in today’s day and age. While there are some hiccups, in today’s society, we’re still one of the more equal and diverse to ever exist. The issue is that the safer we become, and the number of inequalities becomes less, people will look to provoke an issue in order to use it for their own personal or political gain. This isn’t to say people out there pick on others because of who or what they are, but that people look to groom other individual, especially underage people, by manufacturing hate and inequality. This pseudo-hate is done those who think that if their group is seen to be as equal as the majority, then they lose their minority status that they treasure due to the attention it heaps upon them. Some minority groups try to fight this fake hate and rabble rousing, however within minority groups like the LGBT+ it becomes harder and harder as people pollute it with variants of already existing sexualities in order to take hold some of that attention. This is usually seen as teenage girls claim to be bi-sexual, yet only ever having feelings for their male counterparts. Because of this happening for so long, many bi-sexuals are attacked and mistreated by those within the LGBT+ due to the assumption that the majority of bi-sexuals are fake or somehow lesser than homosexuals. You’ll also see this happen with asexual and lesbians, yet this doesn’t mean it’s always gay men who commit these acts. Depending on the minority group, some people who’re legitimate will seek out young individuals to attack and shock in order to “rescue” and ultimately groom into following their preferred path of activism and political belief. It’s a sad state of affairs, but even those who’re most like you can abuse you for their own profit and/or goals. So, in order to prevent this, learn to distance your online self from your offline self. No one needs to know your sexuality, preferences or any other information about yourself. You’re not a character from an RPG; no one needs a back story or list of attributes. This isn’t to say you shouldn’t have pride in yourself, but only that the internet and its denizens will twist and turn everything about you and what you say into a perverted shadow of itself to use and abuse. It’s better to be some random anonymous individual online than a 15 year old, African-American, bi-sexual female who suffers from allergies. If people knew that you’re such a thing, then they already can work out how to prey upon you and get under your skin. Compartmentalize, don’t let people know too much about you. They can egg you into saying or doing something that you’ll ultimately regret. ================================================= Don’t Be a Bully Everyone has a right to freedom of speech and creativity, which means, as we said earlier: You don’t have the right to not be offended. This means, if someone says and does something you don’t like, ignore it. Don’t attack them. Don’t exploit their past or something they said. Don’t drive them to suicide—don’t be a bully. People don’t realize that they, themselves, might just be the bully. Attacking and censoring someone just because they did something they don’t like or approve of, which is quite ironic as most people nowadays hide behind the anti-hate and anti-bully ideologies while being some of the worst bullies themselves. You need to learn to accept the fact that not everyone is going to fall in line and sync up to your beliefs and ideals. No one will fully cooperate with you 100%, and that everyone has the right to draw, say or act as they want. You, though, don’t have the right to attack others or bully them into marching to your drumbeat of life. They’ve a right to march to their own tune and express themselves in their own way. We know this will upset many and provoke some undue hate, but that’s ultimately why a guide like this one is needed—people need to accept the fact that political and religious beliefs will be as varied and as diverse as the people who hold them. Learn to ignore and grow thicker skin. This is a part of growing up and being an adult, forgiving and forgetting the little things that upset you or make you mad. And, truthfully, people need to realize a life isn’t worth a fandom or a head canon. Move on with your life and shrug off the miniscule idiocies of the internet. ================================================= AFTERWORD In the end, it’s all down to you and how you act online. If you say or do the wrong thing, it can end your life and possibility to be hired. Leak too much information, and people can dox you and harass you offline. It all comes down to you and what you say and do—use common sense, think before you say or do anything online.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Roleplay Redux [09.25.18]

memo

Back in what I believe to be July of this year, I was forced to take an unforeseen hiatus. As some of you may know I have been dealing with issues with my health since last year; those same problems have since gotten worse and have made me weary. I apologise to those whom I was formerly speaking with or those who I still owe responses to; it was not my intention to abandon you. To those who are interested in continuing or starting a new with me, you may kindly (please) contact me at your leisure. As for those who are new here, I welcome you. I have an arrangement of choices that I hope someone fancies. I am in the process of trying to come out of the same hiatus I mentioned above. I have returned for the moment searching for anyone who is interested in both chatting and writing together. I have just a small forewarning, while I will do my best to reply swiftly to everything, it might take me some time to comply a proper response. Therefore, I ask that you have patience with me. If you cannot understand this or accept the fact that I cannot respond every single day, please seek partnership elsewhere. Thank you.

what I’m looking for in a partner

Someone willing to take the time to sit down and plan out a story we’ll both enjoy.

Someone who will respect me in the same manner as I will them. It’s a two way street and I’m tired of being disrespected and harassed.

Someone who will take the time to read my rules and regulations. There have been too many instances where I’ve discovered people have either disregarded my rules or simply glossed over them. In exchange if you have any concerns please bring them to me.

Someone who understands that I won’t be able to respond every day. I’ve been dealing with an ongoing health issue since back in June and every month it’s been constant trips to the doctor. It will take me a bit, have patience with me, please. There are some days where I might only be up for talking OOC, then there are others where you might not hear me because I simply don’t feel well.

Someone who doesn’t mind talking outside of roleplay. Another perk of roleplay is finding friends and that’s what I seek. I would like to find someone who I can build a friendship with. We can fangirl over our story and our ships, talk about our day and slowly get to know one another. ❤

types of roleplay

basic: 

Contact me with what fandom(s) you’re interested in, we’ll make a mutual decision on the choice, before exchanging oc information and discussing plots. The format is what we’re all used to: portraying our oc’s, each other’s love interest(s) and side characters.

doubles: 

More or less the same as above, except if there is more than one thing you’d like to do  and are up for doing more than roleplay, than we can. I will probably only accept 2-3 per person, due to time management.

split: 

The format is similar to the basic formula, we both choose one fandom of our respective sides. Then, we exchange oc information, love interests and plots.                      

split 2.5:  

This is similar to the former, but different than the ones before it. Normally, a split roleplay is done where we choose two separate fandoms; but I can make an exception for a basic format if that is what you wish. Now, here is where it’s different after we choose our respective fandoms, along with our oc information we will include a big or small write up of a plot for our character and their love interest(s). Now, I will give my partner full-rein in regards to what kind of plot they want. Want a storyline filled with drama and mayhem? Go for it. Want a reverse harem storyline with four characters vying for your character’s heart? Fine with me. This is your opportunity to play out any kind of headcanons and storylines you wish. I only ask for nothing that violates my rules or limits, otherwise sky’s the limit. I will may accept 2-3 per person. If you need help with a storyline, let me know.

rules and regulations

length:

Normally, I will write one to two paragraphs on both sides. However, that is not my limit for I can write anywhere between one to five paragraphs per sides. Length for a single paragraph can range anywhere between 200-500+ words, whereas each individual side usually equates anywhere from 400-800+ words. I like to consider myself a paragraph|multi-paragraph writer, although I know a lot of people are converting to novella writers, I can accommodate to a novella partner just beware that it will take me longer to reply to you as opposed to someone else. This is due to how much time and effort that goes into novella responses. I am the type of person who likes to take the time to construct a quality response, rather than rush and send someone a response for the sake of replying. Which is why I ask, please give me time to write your response.

 format:

I can write in either first or third person, despite preferring first because I can connect with my character more; I will do whatever my partner feels more comfortable with and if that’s second so be it. Also, don’t forget that roles between the two of us should follow accordingly; I play my OC, your love interest(s) and additional side characters. While you play your OC, my love interest(s) and additional side characters.

 love interests, mary sues, and spotlight:

I’m lenient when it comes to love interests, as I allow more than one suitor for our characters because love triangles make the story more interesting. However, I would ask that if we just so happen to have the same choice(s) for a love interest that we don’t fight about it; instead try to sort things out. I’ve literally had someone threaten me, simply because I liked the same person as them (I’m not kidding). Second, I’m not an extremist when it comes to characters; meaning I won’t knit pick about every little thing. All I ask is no Mary-Sues and no hogging the spotlight; this is a storyline created between the two us. Let’s share it please.

 spelling and grammar:

There are a lot of people who tend to knit pick about this; but rest assured I will not. All I ask is that you have a decent grasp on both spelling and grammar. Do this and we’ll get along fine; this is something that I can and will promise you.

 manners and etiquette:

This should be common knowledge, but all I ask is that during our time writing together that you treat me with respect and courtesy; I will return the gesture as it is only right. I’d like us to get along, I would hate for a disagreement to ensure and there was bad blood between us due to something frivolous.

 patience and commitment:

I am a full-time student, attending college and leave for school early in the morning and return home later in the afternoon; I am usually quite tired when I return home, but I try to reply to my partners as frequent as possible. However there are times, unfortunately when I cannot reply when I’d like due to an abundant amount of assignments, health issues which can lead to me becoming sick or an emergency at home. I try to inform my partners of these occurrences, but if you don’t hear from me in two weeks time don’t be afraid to send me a message and ask me about it. What I won’t accept, is being spammed every five seconds with the same message; again and again because I’m not replying like you’d like me to. I do my best to get to you all, roleplay is supposed to be fun and enjoyable; an escape from reality for both of us. It shouldn’t have to feel like a job. I will do the same for you because I understand everyone here has different lives and schedules to attend to; but please don’t ditch me half-way through the roleplay. If you need to take a break or something; then please tell me. I don’t bite- I’ll understand.

 limits:

Upon sending a request please include your limits; the last thing I wish is to make you uncomfortable. My own limits include but are not limited to the following: male x male,  female x female, incest, paedophilia, and bestiality. This is where my limits stand as of now and may or may not change depending on future roleplays. If you’re unsure about something please don’t hesitate to ask me. In regards to what I will do well I am open to mature themes within my roleplays; actually, I would prefer if my partner was as well. These themes are but not limited to: foul language, violence, blood/gore (but not too heavy, please), smut, sex, alcohol, drugs ( prescription or not), mental illness, psychological themes and more. However, please be advised that I would like to keep everything to a certain level; this means while I do allow cursing, please do not have your character do so every other word. Also, I will not engage in a roleplay that is dedicated solely to sexual activities, alone. I believe that there is more to a storyline than this.

 canon, crossovers and au:

I can do strictly canon roleplays or an alternate universe roleplay. Alternate Universes can range from ‘what if’ situations, different settings and scenarios. If you have an idea let me know, or we can brainstorm ideas together; I also have a list of AU prompts so let me know if you’d like to take a look at it. I am also crossover friendly

 location:

I use mediums such as Skype, Discord and Kik to talk ooc, but tend to roleplay through Google Docs, Email (preferred) or Tumblr.

 ooc chit-chat:

I’d like to chat on the sidelines with my partners, as it allows the two of us to get to know each other; thus making things less awkward for the both of us. Plus, I like to make friends with my partners and would enjoy the extra person to converse with.

roleplay subjects

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1d0mnY-OKlZvMvAeWwLts9yLJXIA3U7GvPt9e9Owpb2s/edit?usp=sharing

The link above will provide my full list of fandoms (cravings included) and original prompts. Please be sure to visit before contacting me.

final checklist

Respect my limits and I’ll respect yours.

This list will be updated when I see fit

If it’s not on my list, don’t ask me about it, no offence but you’re wasting my time and yours.

Please acquaint yourself with my rules before messaging me. Failure to comply with them or in the instance of repeat offences will result in the termination of the roleplay.

Love interests are written in order of preference. If there is only one listed then that’s the only one and I won’t change it.

Listed above are the fandoms I would be interested in writing for, with them are characters who I wished played against my OC. In return, I will play a character opposite your own OC.

Please try to have at least two choices when contacting me. I will be thrilled if you have more than that.

Seriously, don’t contact me if you’re going to ditch. I’m tired of having someone contact me, I get excited and then get dropped. It’s even worse when I write a starter or reply that goes unanswered. If you haven’t heard from me in two to three weeks time send a follow-up message. I cannot stress this enough. Odds are I didn’t receive your message, my own message has gone astray or something simply came up. Either way, I will always get replies out to my partners.

DO. NOT. HARASS. ME. Spamming won’t make me respond faster, threatening to ditch the roleplay because I haven’t responded won’t make me respond faster. This will just turn me off from the whole thing altogether and I WILL end contact one way or another. I don’t mind a light nudge or friendly ask, but anything else won’t be accepted. I’m tired of it.

Be prepared to plot.

Split roleplays are an option

Double roleplays are an option

Plot Candies: Fandoms, Canon, Real world meets the Fandom world(aka: Characters from a fandom transported to the real world or vice versa), Action, Adventure, Superhero fiction, Crime, Fantasy, Supernatural, Urban Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Epic/High Fantasy, Magical Girl, Alternate Universe, Horror, Mystery, Romance, Slice of Life, Thriller, Psychological, Drama, Mythology, Fiction, Tragedy, Time Travel, What-If (prompts),Married-Life, Pregnancy, Family, Crossovers, Reverse Harem

Genres and Themes that are a no-no: Science Fiction, Western, Post-Apocalyptic, Dystopia, Historical, Mecha, Zombies, Canon/Canon

Upon contacting me please make sure to do the following. First, I believe that first impressions matter and therefore would appreciate if you could please introduce yourself to me. I find when people contact me with simply “Want to RP” or “RP?” to be very off-putting and therefore leave me with no desire to return the message. Second, please include the following information: what you’re interested in writing for, any limits that you may or may not have (this one is important because I know everyone is different) and what type of roleplay you’re interested doing. Lastly, it would be nice if you could include any ideas you may have. If you don’t have any that’s okay, if you do don’t be shy to share. Thanks. ❤

contact information

email: x_heavenly.aura_x@yahoo.com

skype: x_keyblade.princess_x

kik: Sailor.Nyx

discord: Stray Cat #6885

tumblr: miss-mischievous-minx.tumblr.com