#it’s the most effective way of being like. oh absolutely not. I’m NOT buying into your bullshittery

[rainia]

real talk though the best way to deal with mean/manipulative people is to counter with being aggressively kind. To not rise up to the bait, and to be appear obliviously nice and kind. For example, I had an ex-coworker who loved drama and being mean to people behind their backs. And the response that was most infuriating to her was to be like “oh so-and-so? Yes they’re soooo lovely! I just adore working with them 🥰” And it would stop her in her tracks, but more importantly, she couldn’t pass on gossip about me. What could she say, “btw Rainia is always saying nice things 😒.” A losing battle. You’d be surprised how many times this is effective in shutting down bullshit.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Too Far.

Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.

A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.

-

He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?

He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.

He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.

-

He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.

“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.

“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”

“What? That’s not-“

“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”

Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.

“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“

“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”

He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.

“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.

When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.

The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.

“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.

“What did I do?”

“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”

“I’m sorry”

That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.

He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.

“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”

“I’m so-“

“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”

She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.

“Okay”

He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.

“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”

“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.

“Tell me about th’ vacation”

“I don’t-“

“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”

He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.

“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“

“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”

“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”

“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.

“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”

He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.

“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”

He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.

“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”

“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.

“In every life…If you’d find me”

“I’d find ya”

-

He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.

He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”

Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.

He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.

“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.

She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.

“Everything”

[rxzennia]

hibernation/ brumation

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 winter dormancy.

in his five years of being your boss, aventurine hasn’t ever seen you send in a request for leave. but here he is, staring at your application for a month-long vacation.

a month? isn’t that a little too long?

you didn’t even stick a little comment about where you’re going or what’s happening, dammit! he wants to know so bad, but he feels like he’ll either overstep his boundaries or come off as clingy if he asks.

he’ll approve it, of course!

he wants you to not hate your job, and part of being a good boss is letting his subordinates take the leaves they’re entitled to

and you deserve a nice, long break, anyway

but the curiosity is killing him inside. what will you be doing? will you still hang around the IPC?

he really, really wants to barge into your office and wrench an explanation out of you

and also, how dare you try to take leave right into the holidays! rude

he wanted to take you out to dinner! to fancy places! he was prepared to have a schedule full of you!

totally not dates or his attempts to spoil you

he totally isn’t thinking of doing it so that you’ll spoil him in return

he’s found out that you respond to him if he rants at you

and that you get very soft and careful with him if he presses the right buttons

he digs that so much it’s unreal

there’s something about having you, of all people, treat him tenderly

perhaps because he’s seen firsthand what kind of monster hides in your scarf

or… what kind of monster hides beneath your silent, icy exterior

it just hits different when someone like you treat him so gently

and he knows for a fact that you’ll never abuse that power you have

he absolutely loves that. 100%.

“guess who’s here!” aventurine announces as he enters your office without so much as a knock, “hard at work, my favorite secretary?”

“out, please.” you hiss, sparing him barely a glance from your computer, “i’m concentrating.”

since when did your complaints stop him

he saunters over and sits himself on your armrest anyway

your scarf lift him up and set him down on the couch opposite to you

he finds his way back to your chair

you put him on the couch again

he comes back to your armrest

is he a cat obsessed with a particular box (namely, your chair) or something

you give up

“what is it?” you relent, scooting over so he can fit onto your seat, too, albeit barely

this man does not hesitate to invade your personal space

“where are you going for a month, hmm?” he asks with a playful smile, “can’t even tell me?”

oh, so that’s what this is about

but why is he resting his face in his hand and looking at you like he’s trying to flirt?

“hibernation.” you keep typing without giving aventurine much of a reaction, “not exactly, but close. brumation.”

wait. wait, what?

it doesn’t take a genius to know that aventurine is currently flabbergasted. “you… hibernate? like sleep hibernate?” 

“no, i hibernate awake.” you mumble sarcastically, but he catches it even if your words are muffled

“c’mon, i’m just checking!” he throws his hands in the air as if protesting your attitude

“yes, i sleep, for the most part.” you scoot over a little more and lift him up, setting him down in your lap. “but i’ll be awake here and there.”

you rest your head on top of his and continues to work, effectively caging him in

he realizes you’re much more like a snake than he thought

not in an alarming way

you’re coiling around him, but, like, in a friendly danger noodle way

“will you?” he chuckles; maybe his plans aren’t entirely foiled, after all, “for how long?”

you look at him. “a few minutes up to an hour?” 

you’re only getting up for water and/or changing sleeping positions

never mind, his plans to try to spoil you is, in fact, foiled

he pouts. he had the entire thing planned out already! all five days that you’ll be off!

he looks like a kid who’s about to buy the last donut but you beat him to it and buy the donut right in front of his eyes.

“you can visit.” you say, and you see him light up almost immediately. 

though, you don't think there’s much worth visiting, but whatever makes him happy

when aventurine visits you during your well-deserved vacation, he’s pleasantly surprised. you’re sleeping so peacefully, despite the fact that you usually rarely sleep at all.

you’re curled up into half a ball under your blankets and your scarf

and letting out little snores

is this what you look like when you’re asleep? 

so adorable. if only you’d let him see it often…

but he doesn’t know the frequency of your brumation period

as far as he knows, it’s once in five years, but he has no idea if it’s more than five years

you’re not covering your face, either

aeons, he loves seeing your unobscured face

you’re so beautiful under your scarf

especially the patches of scales along your neck, they glitter in white gold under the light

he wishes you wouldn't try to cover them up

during your entire month, he’s going to be in your room whenever he’s free

he will totally try to sleep next to you at night

what? it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed before!

it’s just that you’ve never been asleep by each other's side!

you will cuddle into him if he tries to hold you

and you will get fussy if he tries to get out of the hug

if only you were as honest when you’re awake

aventurine has been trying to catch you in your small conscious windows, but he’s having not much luck with that. though, this isn’t exactly a gamble, so “luck” might not be the right word here.

he’s so busy; he’s drowning in work 

your temporary replacement isn’t very good at their job

or maybe he’s just used to the way you do things and now everything feels wrong

he wants you back already 

because nowadays he barely has an hour to spend with you apart from bedtime

he hates it

what do you mean by he can’t sit next to your sleeping form while he signs papers?

horrible, very horrible

but eventually he does catch you when you’re awake

you’re drowsy and you’re dragging your blankets and your scarf with you around your room

the cutest thing he’s ever seen in a long while

he watches as you clumsily pour yourself some water, spilling some on the table because you can’t line up the jug and the glass properly

and he watches as you sluggishly flop onto your couch after you’ve downed the water

“had enough of the bed?” he asks, sitting down next to you and brushing a few strands of hair away from your face

“hnnnnnngh,” you grumble and turn to face away from him, you just want to go back to sleep

then you remember this is your boss’s voice

and you reluctantly mumble, “it’s too warm…”

do you even know what you’re saying? you’re melting his heart

“oh, that so? it’s too hot over there?” aventurine snickers softly, his hand caressing your face, the cool fabric of his glove making you sigh in delight. “you’re so lovely.”

he recognizes the amount of trust you have in him to let him visit you when you’re sleeping, and it’s doing things to his stomach. you’re so lazy, so barely aware of your surroundings, but you trust him to be around you while you are in this state.

there is an urge, and he acts on it. he nuzzles against your cheek, rubbing your noses together and planting a small kiss on your forehead. he’s been dreaming of holding you like you’re his greatest treasure, but he’s never mustered up the courage to do it. 

maybe someday he will tell you, and then he’ll be allowed to adore you openly the way he’s always wanted to.

“my favorite snake,” he whispers to himself, feeling a shudder of affection throughout his bones, “sleep well. i’ll look forward to taking you out when you rise.”

[ajortga]

cute and absolute

pairing: jenna ortega x actress!fem reader

word count: 1.8k+

summary: it doesn't go unnoticed that you are one of the only people that jenna lets her walls down with.

based off request!

-

Where Jenna only accepts r's touch ??? Tyy

-🥝

-

Jenna is squirming in the car, screaming at her friend to drive faster so she can eat. 

“I’ve been on set since 6 fucking AM! It’s been 10 hours and I’m hungry! I skipped breakfast for this damn shit! What the hell do you mean you can’t get a burrito right now? All I want is a damn burrito and you’re telling me that we have to pick up Y/N, our friend, and first buy the book you wanted because it’s closer? CLOSER?” She screams, gripping her knuckles that were already white enough.

Jacob, one of Jenna’s friends laughs hard, a little threatened but not enough to be stopped. “It’ll only take 15 minutes at most! It’s more convenient, the bookstore is along the way and closer to our location, then we can just buy any burrito you want aft-” 

“CLOSER? YOU KNOW WHAT’S CLOSER?” Jenna throws her arms up in dramatic effect, huffing, “Me going insane! My sanity is at 10% right now, and if I don’t get my burrito this instant, I’m going to crash this car and fucking run to the nearest place that has a burrito. DON’T touch me!” She yells, smacking her friend's arm away because she cannot think properly at this moment.

“I’m STARVING, and I’m a woman who needs food to survive in this film ECONOMY! Can’t you drive any faster?-"

Jenna suddenly hears your voice outside from the slightly opened car window. She peeks her eyes out, her hands holding the glass. She suddenly sees you, looking sweet, happy, and perfectly sane as you come out of your driveway. “Hi, Jenna!” You exclaim, completely unaware that she was just ballistic for a burrito 5 seconds ago.

Her frustrated demeanor melts off suddenly, a goofy grin on her face as she sees just how happy you are. She brings her hand up, waving. “Hi!”

She just forgot how hungry she was and the person she just was less than a minute ago. Why was she so upset that she had to wait longer so Jacob could pick you up? She stopped feeling the need to bang her head on the nearest wall. 

“Jacob was telling me that you had a long time on set, something about how I had to save him because you were going crazy, so I got you some snacks.” You pull out a bag filled with goodies from your pantry.

The man that was driving stuttered as Jenna slowly turned to him, “I did not say it like that.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing your phone and swiping and squinting. “It says here, “Please save me from this woman, she’s acting like a toddler that just shit her pants. SOS, crying crying emoji..” Um, oh and here. “This girl is so dramatic, complaining about not getting her burrito, she's wailing in the back seat. Please save her.” Don’t lie to me.” You state with a grin as Jenna munches on chips.

He rolls his eyes, grumbling. 

Jenna interrupts, “Okay, Jacob, you traitor.”

“You cannot be talking, slapping my arm away when I try to calm you down but Y/N being some sort of angel and making you all cuddly.”

The fuming brunette slowly turns back to normal as you slither your arm around hers, laying your head on her shoulder. “Glad to know you love me. How was filming without me?”

Jenna sniffs, letting you ruffle her hair, “One of the directors was trying to show us how the scene should play out, the popcorn in the microwave caught on fire.”

You nod, awkwardly as you look around. “Was it your popcorn?” You guess.

She huffs and sinks into you, “Yes, and now I'm starving."

-

Aliyah is losing her mind. First, her father was fixing the doorbell, and now it seems to be ringing on its own. Now, her older sister won’t cooperate as she tries to steady Jenna’s legs that are in the air. The brunette shrieks, causing Aliyah to pull away and make her tumble.

Aliyah groans, “This is the thirteenth time already! Let me make this clear, you asked me to help you do this random one handed handstand, but you won’t let me even touch you so I can get you into the right pose? You’re so weird.” 

Jenna shrugs, her head on the floor as she hangs upside down from the couch. “I am letting you touch me!”

“No you aren’t! You start shrieking and then falling face flat when I do! How the hell are we going to make this work if you won’t cooperate?”

The two siblings hear some shuffling as you crawl through the dog door, fitting yourself in. They blink, staring at you as you wiggle yourself through and throw a hand in the air, showing that you brought food. “Burritos!”

“Y/N! What are you doing? Go through the back door you doofus! You could’ve just knocked!”

You finally manage to squirm your way in as you stand up, brushing some leaves off of you and throwing them into the trash. You flip your hair, crawling through doggy doors were one of your talents. You signal her Jenna to hear you out as you put up a finger, “First of all, I was ringing the doorbell like, five thousand times, then I knocked, and no one was answering! I’m not letting the food get cold.” You pause, looking at Jenna who is currently staring at you upside down and hanging from the couch. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Trying to do a one handed handstand.” 

“Oh, wait. Oh! I know how to do that!” Happily, you hand her sister the bag with burritos and tacos, before collapsing to the floor.

There was awkward silence as Jenna and Aliyah stared at each other, “Um..”

Jenna always knew you as the silly girl across the block. Even after 5 years of friendship, she thinks you’ve just gotten sillier.

“That wasn’t it, I haven’t done it in a year. Hold on.” You position yourself, slowly doing a handstand. Jenna can see your shirt slowly rising up and showing your stomach as you keep yourself steady. You lift an arm off and hang it up. “Did I do it?”

Jenna giggles and flops down the couch. “Yeah. I think so.” She crawls behind you and picks up your body that was upside down.

“Hey!”

-

“Okay, slow and steady..” You say softly, squinting and holding Jenna’s legs, making sure she was in the right position. “Aliyah, try steadying her while she puts one arm up.”

“No way, nope.” She argues, eating her taco, “She literally kept shrieking when I tried to and starting kicking and squirming.”

“She’s not shrieking right now?”

“Well you’re just different I guess, you’re her best friend, so..”

You raise your eyebrows, a smile tugging on your lips as you tickle Jenna and make her fall on you. “You just love me, don’t you!?” You giggle, hugging her as she squeals and nuzzles against you.

-

It was late in the evening as you got changed into pajamas and flopped onto your bed. Nights like this always felt better, where you would switch on a show, read a book, or call friends. You decide to check some emails, looking over some asking for you to star in movies, replying to companies that want you as their ambassador, you click out of the tab. 

A small ding sounds on your phone as you see that Emma had texted you. 

meh meh myers: LMAO look at this article i found about u and jenna: https://hypotheticalsofcelebrities

y/n: okay my own researcher and detective, or should i say pippa fitz amobi? u get me?

y/n: lemme go check it out

meh meh myers: yus ily

y/n: ur the pip to my ravi 🥺

meh meh myers: corny

You laugh at yourself as you open the link, the article named ‘Escalating Relationships, Cute or Absolute?’

You roll your eyes and scroll down.

Fans say that they’ve picked up on the actress’s behavior, scooting away from castmates who’ve gotten too close during interviews and only staying close to one or two close ones. Not that she’s uncomfortable, taken from the way she seems unfazed most times. But, it is noticed that she seems like a bundle of happiness with individuals. A clip right here shows her with a fellow castmate, Y/N L/N, both starred in the famous series, Wednesday. It is caught on how Ortega was silently making sure that her friend was okay during an interview that had turned a little more uncomfortable for the other girl, squeezing her hand and clinging onto her. It seemed to have worked, for how the girl began to relax. What a friendship they have!

The tiny moments of comfort and physical touch occur in other interviews too, as well as cute Instagram comments on each other's posts that come off as playful flirting. Some comments are pasted here.

Jenna Ortega commenting on Y/N’s post of a photoshoot press for Wednesday last year in September:

jennaortega: That’s my girl

Another one on a post of the girl just doing an Instagram photo dump this year in March:

jennaortega: if you squint closely you can see me doing the dishes for my wife in the third photo

jennaortega: i will take your last name if i have to

jennaortega: my woman, i love you

Y/N L/N commenting on a post for Jenna’s Adidas campaign last year in November:

y/n_l/n: i will be the only one applauding the longest for u

y/n_l/n: tis is why i got adidas merch

Fast forward to Christmas with a dump of Jenna’s favorite people (Y/N included) in December last year: 

y/n_l/n: I love you this is why I wanted to bake the turkey

y/n_l/n: merry christmas to my favorite person

Another one to a selfie of Jenna posted this year in April:

y/n_l/n: oh i’m interested, what’s your number?

y/n_l/n: sign my contract to be with me forever? comes with a long time of house wife chores!

-

What do you think? Are they just really good friends with the cutest flirting? Or secretly dating? Answer us down in our poll, cute, or absolute?

Final vote with 20K votes

Cute: 24%

Absolute: 76%

—

carrots4life: but like, their relationship is both cute and absolute! why aint that a option?

mangofrosties: they are def dating istg i’ve never seen them both this happy unless they are together

-

You smile, looking away from your laptop as you kick your feet. You do feel like Jenna had a soft spot for you, she always hugged you first, tried picking you up, falling asleep with each other on set. But she was just your best friend, you would all say to interviewers.

The door slightly creaks as you turn, smiling. “Hey baby, I think you should see this.”

Jenna flops on the bed with you, letting you cuddle her as she kisses you and reads your screen, a goofy grin on her face.

“I guess they caught on that we might be more than friends. I mean, it's not a lie that we are best friends, girlfriends is just a small little detail."

“Cute and absolute.”

[angelsknifeprty]

streamer!ellie hcs ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n: this is more focused on ellie and less on ellie x reader but i am for sure gonna follow this up with something else more focused on the both of you >:3

warnings | mentions of weed, the smallest hint towards struggling with eating if you squint

word count: 698

do not buy tlou | ways to help palestine | operation olive branch | keep eyes on sudan | haiti’s history | learn about congo

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ started off posting unlisted videos of her playing games with the stupidest, shittiest editing ever for you and her friends to watch and later decided to give streaming a try

‎ ‧₊˚౨ৎ starts off her twitch channel as a faceless streamer but does a face reveal when she hits a big milestone

‧₊˚౨ৎ has the creeper mini fridge for sure!!

‧₊˚౨ৎ has a ginger cat named garfield that she exclusively calls garfunkel on stream because her viewers made fun of her for garfield being too unoriginal

“guys, what do you mean it’s unoriginal, look at him. that’s literally garfield, the real deal. you’re all haters.”

‧₊˚౨ৎ plays a bunch of different games: minecraft obviously, fortnite, roblox (and argues with kids on there, you can’t tell me any different). also loves fnaf, elder scrolls and resident evil

‧₊˚౨ৎ more on her liking resident evil, i think she’s not super wimpy when it comes to games like that but she HATES the regenerators from the re4 remake (i’m totally not projecting…)

“i am NOT a wimp, but look at their freaky fucking arms!! and they have gross little butts too, that was not a necessary choice for the character design.”

‧₊˚౨ৎ she does find it funny when she kills them and they jiggle as they fall on the ground though

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ i’m throwing it in here that she smokes weed because i simply cannot help myself teehee :P

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she does more chill streams of her eating n stuff as a way of comforting her viewers so they can eat along with her )):

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ and in turn chat always spams her with comments to drink water because that girl survives purely on energy drinks to combat her sleepy girl syndrome

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ abuses the soundboard so heavily, loves using a sound effect of an audience clapping and cheering when she tells the most painfully unfunny joke

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she is ABSOLUTELY a jerma985 fan

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ loves putting her fans on blast and reacting to edits of her on stream and finds it so funny (especially the ones that have the reverb fart noise just randomly slapped in there, she thinks it’s peak humour)

“you guys think i don’t see this stuff? i have eyes everywhere. y’know what though, you guys are actually really talented.”

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ wears stupid t-shirts that say stuff like “i paused my game to be here” (omg i just found one that says “gamers make better lovers, they know all the right buttons” she would absolutely wear that)

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she wears her silly t-shirts with pride and has the audacity to ask chat to rate how hard her fit goes

therealher0brine: BOOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅 0/10

elliebellie69: i beg that you don’t leave the house in that /lh  (╥﹏╥)

gnarpgnarp500: never beating the loser lesbian allegations i fear…

“guys you’re just not seeing the vision, sorry that you’re not this cool.”

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ oh my gosh she is OBSESSED with the little ikea alien, she has multiple of them in her room. she keeps one on her desk and when she sometimes doesn’t know what to say she’ll just hold it up super close to the camera and make incoherent high pitched babbling sounds

smelliams420: omg cancelled you can’t say that dude…

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ gets her viewers to send in clips and she’ll do high try not to laugh streams and fails miserably because she has the dumbest sense of humour ever. she’ll blame it entirely on the herb though as if her reaction wouldn’t be near enough the same when she’s sober

‧₊˚౨ৎ will occasionally play guitar on stream and she’ll sing too if you catch her in the right mood. she’s a bit awkward about it so it doesn’t happen often cuz she hates messing up and always makes a way bigger deal about it than necessary

“fuck- no wait, i was just messing with you. that fuck up was on purpose, shut up,” and her cheeks are flushed bright red as she tries to brush it off and compose herself before trying again

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ loves to get sidetracked and info dumps about stuff she is far too knowledgeable on

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ in conclusion, loser ellie supremacy

a/n: raghhh i love streamer els with my whole heart !!! i’m gonna eat her (˶˃⤙˂˶) anyways i hope you enjoyed, k bye mwah! >3< ♡

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Could you do a yandere Idia, Malleus, and Floyd with a darling who acts like Jane Doe from ride the cyclone? (If you can’t do this I understand!)

I liked the play

and I love her ballad

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jane Doe Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

(Y/n) (L/n) is known best for your stiff motions and disconcerting observations. Usually met with fear, impervious to insults you don’t understand, and often forgetting your name you certainly become a person of interest to many. And the many that get to know you realize you’re not nearly as frightening as they perceived nor do you mean to be creepy just confused. Unfortunately for them the more people who begin to realize this about you tend to get closer to you. Not on their watch:

Idia Shroud

“You know what I think is scary? That a bear who happened upon some cocaine started eating and became addicted. What stopped the bear was not his desire to use the energy he got from this new prey but because he died. It disturbs me how far addiction can disguise the hand of death.”

“If this is some round-about way to tell me to stop gaming then I don’t buy it.”

He’s not as off-put when he realizes you don’t fit into that ‘normie’ category

Nor do you fit in his slot as an ultimate gamer

Well he can fix that really fast

It starts with putting a controller in your hand

And he slowly finds he doesn’t get nervous around you…for awhile

He still finds his hair alighting in pink flames when your cheeks touch as he governs you over your shoulder

Or how he overheats at your willingness to follow his menial acts for your friendship affection

“Y-yeah n-normal friends sit very close no matter the setting!”

“Like this?”

“Y-yeah!”

“And I should wrap my arms around your waist like this?”

“Y-yup!”

And you are none the wiser when you’re practicing all his lessons with others that he’s watching with absolute rage

So like the game master, he is he keeps his eyes on the field having cameras anywhere and everywhere watching your every awkward movement

Fanboying when he gets the perfect angle of you curiously tilting your head

And for the trash NPCs that bother you him+ he’s using his technical prowess to put them six feet under

“Ha, stupid NPC they really thought I’d let that slide?! Fat chance.”

Malleus Draconia

“Would you like to brush my doll’s hair?”

“I would like to but it seems her head is missing.”

“Hmmm, that reminds me of something.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I’m sure I can–” 

*Detaches head from body Frankenstein style*

“Oh yes I still can.”

“Oh my–”

Not only do you have no fear of him but you are the most interesting character he has the pleasure of meeting

You're so unorthodox he’s never bored

Not that he ever would be

He truly falls when your blunt affection for him as friend lover+ stirs something deeper in him

He can’t begin to imagine life without you being beside

Him learning from him and freely sharing your observations

And despite many others cringing at your creepy statements

He delights in them

“It truly is horrific how easily guinea pigs decide to cannibalize their young.”

“Haha! Yes, that is true. If you were in their place would you do the same? I ask because I can relate to the jealousy of the male. I would rather keep you to myself for all eternity.”

He doesn’t hide his affections and immediately dives into courting you 

And you don’t have the knowledge to turn him away though

But should any unfortunate interloper put it lightly on your radar that you don’t have to accept

He’s smiting them then and there

“See. (Y/n)? He says such negative things and the lightning struck him immediately after. It is only the balance of cause and effect.”

Floyd Leech

“(Y/nnnn)!”

“....”

“(YYYYY/nnnnn)!”

“....”

“(YYYYY/NNNN)!!!!

“Ah, that is what I’m called…right?”

“Hmmmm nope, your name is Shrimpy!”

He’s had the most fun with you in a long time

Anything with you around is fun

Whether its because everyone’s reactions are fun when you talk 

Or how you make people run perfect for an ambush

To say he gets angry at your occupied attention is an understatement

It's more than joy 

its you 

your his, his territory, his name-forgetting shrimpy that belongs to him

“Your eyes are nice.”

“Ahah that’s cute Shrimpy! I share them with Jade!” 

“They’re wild…like that of a carnivorous predator. The kind that gut their prey while still alive.”

“Awww Shrimpy! Marry me.”

If it isn’t a given that he squeezes anyone who diverts your attention

But he can’t help but decide you don’t need to move at all from his reach

[gardenschedule]

Perceptions of Paul as calculating & John's paranoia

“McCartney’s mistake, which he now admits, was to seem invulnerable. […] And yet, he says, the contrast between himself and Lennon, so assiduously cultivated by journalists, was a fabrication. “I wasn’t brilliant at school. I was trouble, just like John. I got caned practically every day, and the only exam I ever passed was Spanish. John and I weren’t black and white, although people took John, for all his aggression, to be the good guy, because he showed his warts. I’ve only just realized, after all this time, that people like to see warts. It makes them sympathetic. I’d always though that, in order to be liked, you had to be unwarty.””

Living with The Beatles’ legacy, the smears that Lennon left behind… and the battle to win my babies back, The Times Newspaper, Monday January 4, 1982.

Paul was the easiest to talk to. He had such energy and such keenness and, unlike John, enjoyed being liked, at least most of the time. I don't see this as a criticism; John himself could be very cruel about Paul's puppy dog eagerness to please. The irony was, and still is, that John's awfulness to people, his rudeness and cruelty, made people like him more, whereas Paul's genuine niceness made many people suspicious, accusing him of being calculating. Paul does look ahead, seeing what might happen, working out the effect of certain actions, but he often ends up tying himself in knots, not necessarily getting what he thought he wanted. I think there is some insecurity in Paul's nature, which makes him try so hard, work so hard. It also means he can be easily hurt by criticism, which was something that just washed over John.

Hunter Davies, Western Mail: The Beatles. (April 9th, 2004)

Even Paul’s immaculate manners could not thaw her. ‘Oh, yes, he was well-mannered–too well-mannered. He was what we call in Liverpool “talking posh” and I thought he was taking the mickey out of me. I thought “He’s a snake-charmer all right,” John’s little friend, Mr Charming. I wasn’t falling for it. After he’d gone, I said to John, “What are you doing with him? He’s younger than you… and he’s from Speke!”’ After that, when Paul appeared, she would always tell John sarcastically that his ‘little friend’ was here. ‘I used to tease John by saying “chalk and cheese”, meaning how different they were,’ she remembered, ‘and John would start hurling himself around the room like a wild dervish shouting “Chalkandcheese! Chalkandcheese!” with this stupid grin on his face.’

Philip Norman, Paul McCartney: The Life. (2016)

“He always suspected me. He accused me of scheming to buy over Northern Songs without telling him. I was thinking of something to invest in, and Peter Brown said what about Northern Songs, invest in yourself, so I bought a few shares, about 1,000 I think. John went mad, suspecting some plot. Then he bought some himself. He was always thinking I was cunning and devious. That’s my reputation, someone who’s charming, but a clever lad. “It happened the other day at Ringo’s wedding. I was saying to Cilia [Black] that I liked Bobby [her husband]. That’s all I said. Bobby’s a nice bloke. Ah, but what do you REALLY think Paul? You don’t mean that, do you, you’re getting at something? I was being absolutely straight. But she couldn’t believe it. No one ever does. They think I’m calculating all the time.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

In the wake of his death you didn’t tour for most of the ‘80s. People suggested that you were scared to go on the road. Was that true? No. People speculate about anything. They always credit me with motives I haven’t even dreamed of. It’s interesting, the way they sort of perceive my life and analyse it for me. In that case, I never thought about touring much. People used to say, “Oh, it’s 10 years since you’ve toured.” I’d go, “Is it? Y’know, I’m not counting.” That’s all that was, really. I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t fancy it.

The Q Interview, 2007

Astrid in Germany was always a bit suspicious of Paul at first, though his relationship with Stu was also bound up in this. 'It used to frighten me that someone could be so nice all the time. Which is silly. It's ridiculous to feel at home with nasty people, just because you feel that at least you know where you are with them. It's silly to be wary of nice people.'

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul is the easiest to get to know for an outsider, but in the end he is the hardest to get to know. There is a feeling that he is holding things back, that he is one jump ahead, aware of the impression he is giving. He is self-conscious, which the others are not. John doesn't care, either way, what people think. Ringo is too adult to think about such things, and George in many ways isn't conscious. He is above it all.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul today is still the public Beatle, giving interviews at fairly regular intervals, being open and honest about himself and his past, his worries and his pleasures. Naturally, as ever, there are people who suspect his motives, putting him down for being too charming. Paul may be a bit of an actor, acting the part of Paul McCartney, the charming superstar, still loved by every mum, which can make him sound rather prissy at times, but I believe he does tell the truth about himself.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

“My problem is to me, I come over as this very together guy, always got his finger on top of everything: the man with no problems. School – a doddle, got all the exams. This is the sort of image of me. Actually, I had murder getting through exams, like I was saying about being on tour during my GCEs. I was like the kid who was getting the cane. Just like John was, but he [Phillip Norman] makes me the very shrewd, always-going-to-succeed guy, and John is the kind of cute, working-class hero. In actual fact though, John was just as shrewd and ambitious as I was. What does me in is he adds to this image I’ve got; I resent that, because I know I’m not that, and I know I’ve never been that.

Paul McCartney’s thoughts from 1983 on Phillip Norman’s ‘Shout!’

The funny thing is, when Apple [started], everything was laid out on the table, it’s like a Monopoly game. We saw who had what. I suddenly had more Northern Song shares than anybody, and it was like, oops, sorry. John was like, “You bastard, you’ve been buying behind my back.” John saw everything like a Harold Robbins movie, you know, which it was. He’s not incorrect. I couldn’t get over the fact that we were really involved in all this. I think to this day, he’ll not understand. I don’t think he would accept right now, my naïveté in it. I think he still suspects me of trying to take over Apple. He still suspects that when I offered the Eastmans as [managers] instead of Allen Klein, he naturally assumed that I would be taken care of better than the others, and that the Eastmans could never be moral enough to be equal in their judgment and do the Beatles’ thing rather than Paul’s thing. I think they still suspect to this day.

The point I was trying to illustrate is that it wasn’t so much John being a bastard as it was his being suspicious towards me, always being suspicious towards me. There was Northern Song shares. And I swear on any holy book you want, I know he won’t believe it, but I know for sure that I didn’t buy them with the view to— If I was really trying to do it, I could have bought an awful lot more. So it does hurt a little bit that there’s someone who still thinks, like, I’m out to get them, or that I always was. That’s one of the nice things about it— It’s a pity [I never said to John, “Fuck off, I’m not trying to do it”—and never was]. But he knows I was kind of— We were behind the scenes, and we did a few little [things] that we had to do, and our ambitions, and it was never a kind of terrifying skeletons in the closet. It was always just normal—but, uh, they …

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

SG: Were the other Beatles anti-Linda? PMcC: Uh, yeah. I should think so. Like we were anti-Yoko. But you know John and Yoko, you can see it now, the way to get their friendship is to do everything the way they require it. To do anything else is how to not get their friendship. This is still how it is with John and Yoko. I know that if I absolutely lie down on the ground and just do everything like they say and laugh at all their jokes and don’t expect my jokes to ever get laughed at, and don’t expect any of my opinions ever to carry any weight whatsoever, if I’m willing to do all that, then we can be friends. But if I have an opinion that differs from theirs, then I’m a sort of an enemy. And naturally, paint myself a villain with a big mustache on, because to the ends of the earth, that’s how they both see me. They’re very suspicious people [John and Yoko], and one of the things that hurt me out of the whole affair, was that we’d come all that way together, and out of either a fault in my character, or out of lack of understanding in their character, I’d still never managed to impress upon them that I wasn’t trying to screw them. I don’t think that I have to this day.

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

I was never out to screw him, never. He could be a maneuvering swine, which no one ever realized. Now since the death he’s became Martin Luther Lennon. But that really wasn’t him either. He wasn’t some sort of holy saint. He was still really a debunker. “For ten years together he took my songs apart. He was paranoiac about my songs. We have great screaming sessions about them.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

SALEWICZ: Oh, he was presumably very paranoid. PAUL: I think so. I mean, he warned me off Yoko once. You know, “Look, this is my chick!” ’Cause he knew my reputation. I mean, we knew each other rather well. And um, I felt… I just said, “Yeah, no problem.” But I did sort of feel he ought to have known I wouldn’t, but. You know, he was going through “I’m just a jealous guy”. He was a paranoid guy. And he was into drugs. Heavy.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London)

Miles says, “I think Jane was always a bit irritated by John. Because he was so acerbic and difficult to get on with. And paranoid. He didn’t make life easy. I suppose it’s a sort of rapier wit, but it was usually just plain ordinary rudeness. There was nothing special about it.”

Paul McCartney profile for FAME Magazine (March 1990)

“They [Lennon & McCartney] saw each other again in 1977. The Lennons and McCartneys ate dinner together at Le Cirque, Paul’s favourite French restaurant in New York. John regretted going; it was a loathsome night. Paul and Linda blathered on and on about how perfect their lives were, how they had everything they’d ever wanted, and how they were as happy as they’d ever been. Something very paranoid suddenly occurred to John. Maybe Lorraine Boyle was spying on him for the McCartneys! He woke up the next morning still feeling disturbed; he consulted the Oracle. Swan assured him that Paul and Linda were frustrated and unsatisfied. Their marriage was in trouble, he said, predicting it would break up within the year. Lately Swan’s visions had been astonishingly accurate. Relieved, John began composing a song—a little ditty, really, that would never be released—in praise of the Oracle’s powers. But he still couldn’t understand why Paul and Linda had been together for as long as they had. There appeared to be a psychic connection between John and Paul. Every time McCartney was in town, John would hear Paul’s music in his head.”

Robert Rosen, Nowhere Man: The Final Days of John Lennon, (2000)

JOHN: […..] And he’s (Jagger) goin’ on about “he never calls. Do you think he ever calls? He never calls me. And he keeps changing his phone number all the time… And he’s hiding behind the kid.” I was hurt by it! You know… The fact that… A, I never call anybody. It’s not pride, it’s just that I never, ever have. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: I never call the other Beatles, I never call anybody. They always call me. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: Cos I’m self-involved! I’m paranoid, too. I don’t like phones… There’s nobody on this earth ever got a call from me that isn’t related, probably. Or a very old friend…

Sept 1980 – John

“Yoko was an extremist and was even more intense than John taking any idea or comment of his to the limit. If, for example, he complained about any of his fellow Beatles she would hint that that Beatle had always been an enemy implying that John should never deal with that person again. Her extreme positions fascinated John and help him take his mind off himself but when she became self-involved and paranoid herself -her paranoia usually dealt with her career, her fame and the fact that even though she had always been famous everyone conspired to keep her from getting even more famous- he had no place to turn. His insecurity about his solo career, his childhood, his relationships with the other Beatles, the way the public perceived Yoko overwhelmed him and he became more and more involved with drugs.”

May Pang, Loving John (1984)

John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.

Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)

Some three year later, during the making of Abbey Road, Lennon installed a twin bed in the studio so that Yoko, recuperating from a car crash, could survey proceedings and pass comment though a mike he had suspended over her. The other Beatles positioned themselves around the room as best they could. Yoko would later tell Paul that if, for any reason, he’d seemed to be standing too close to her, all hell would break loose when John got her home. Lennon, she said, was ‘very paranoid’ like that.

McCartney by Chris Sandford

But we were actually quite supportive. Not supportive enough, you know; it would have been nice to have been really supportive because then we could look back and say, “Weren’t we really terrific?” But looking back on it, I think we were okay. We were never really that mean to them. But I think a lot of the time John suspected meanness where it wasn’t really there.

Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chris Salewicz for Musician: Tug of war – Paul McCartney wants to lay his demons to rest. (October, 1986)

I just read about this thing that’s going on sale at Sotheby’s – this Apple booklet with John’s comments in the margins in his own handwriting. It is so bitter. Like, there’s a picture of Paul and Linda’s wedding – and John’s crossed out “wedding” and written in “funeral.” I think it starts to tell there. Another caption says, “Paul goes to Hollywood” – and then he’s apparently written in the margin, “To cut Yoko and John out of the film.” He often thought that we were tryin’ to cut Yoko out of things, to cut her out of Let It Be. I suppose we were, in some degree; because she wasn’t in the Beatles, and it was a Beatles film, and it wasn’t absolutely necessary to have long footage of her in there. She certainly was in there, but obviously they felt she should be in there a little more. I bent over backward trying to see John’s point of view. I still bend over backward trying to not malign him.”

Paul McCartney, Rolling Stone, September 11th, 1986

[frenchfrywrites]

4/20

MINORS DNI

Warnings: soft dom top amab gn reader, bottom sub trans man Solomon, character is high, drug use, pseudo somno, piss, multiple orgasms, squirting

Terms used for Solomon: chest, cunt, pussy, clit, cock

Solomon has a reputation with food. 

Famously, he is an absolute menace in the kitchen- cooking up the most foul courses you’ve ever had the displeasure of witnessing- and less well-known is his habit of frequently indulging in edibles.

You’re more than lucky that Solomon hasn’t tried to mix these hobbies of his by making his own edibles, and that he instead favors buying them premade. In fact, he’s generally pretty smart and safe about having them: storing them away in his room, making sure that they stay out of the reach of Luke, and inviting you over when he wants to get high.

There are two reasons Solomon likes having you over when he eats edibles, the first being that he more often than not ends up believing that they’re not working and eats too many. The second is that he always gets a bit handsy when he’s high, and loves the sloppy, sleepy makeouts that result from that. 

When you get a flirty text asking you to come to him, you quickly make your way to Purgatory Hall. Upon entering his room, you find him lounging on his bed in his most comfortable clothes, giggling, surrounded by empty wrappers of his favorite edible treats. Your brows furrow with concern.

“Hello darling,” Solomon gives you a flirty little wave when he notices you enter the room, “what are you doing here?” he asks cutely, sitting up and moving his bangs away from his face so he can see you better. You hum, closing the door behind you. 

“You asked me to come over,” you remind him, heading to his bathroom, so you can fill up a glass of water for him. Solomon gasps, still sitting on his bed.

“I can’t believe it,” he’s genuinely awestruck by this information, “Ah, I’m so smart. Thank you for coming over, I could not stop thinking about you,” he sighs happily. 

You let out a small laugh, and hand him the glass of water, “drink this for me?” he obeys easily, taking it from you and gulping it down.

“I didn’t even,” he pauses to slowly wipe the water from his mouth, and then brushes off the edible wrappers from his bed. You’re able to grab one before they all fall, and read that each one had 10mg. Counting carefully, you figure he’s ingested 30mg, which is a relief. With that much THC effecting him, he won’t be panicked or nauseous. You’ve had to care for him through worse.

He giggles, “oh love, I didn’t mean to eat so many. But the first one wasn’t working. I thought, well I ate more than I planned, but it’s okay!” he pauses again, “sorry, I was saying something else before…” he trails off. 

You sit next to him on the bed, patiently waiting for him to finish his sentence. 

“Oh!” he shoves the glass back in your hand, “I wasn't even aware of how thirsty I was, thank you,” he leans in to give you a kiss. He misses your lips and lands the kiss at the corner of your mouth.

You place the cup down on the bedside table as Solomon falls into a fit of giggles. His sounds are soon swallowed up by you placing a proper kiss on his lips. Humming happily, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you in deeper. He licks against your lips sloppily, and when your tongue enters his mouth, you can taste the sugar that’s coating his tongue and teeth from the treats. 

He pulls away suddenly, his lips shining with saliva “wait,” he slurs, looking dazed and confused. After a second he gently pushes you back against some pillows, “I would like you to hold me,” he whines, finally getting around to articulating his thoughts. Smiling, you watch as he clumsily hauls himself onto your lap. You steady him by holding his hips, and Solomon makes himself comfortable, nuzzling his face into your neck.

He starts rambling, every thought entering his head leaving his mouth. He tells you about his day, getting side tracked, then starting over again. Solomon talks until his voice goes hoarse, and finally he slumps against you, exhaustion taking over. 

Part of you hopes that he’ll fall asleep like this, because that’s the best way for him to come down from his high, but if that doesn’t happen, at least you’re here to watch over him.

You hold him quietly until his giggles start again, seemingly prompted by nothing. They escalate quickly, until he’s shaking, snorting, and gasping for air as he laughs. You’d ask Solomon what he thinks is so funny, but you’re not sure if he could answer you. His laugh is so cute that you’re not even bothered that you’re not in on the joke.

Solomon leans back, pulling himself out of your neck and wiping tears away from his cheeks. You can’t help but smile as you look at his overjoyed face. He hiccups, and the sound makes him laugh more. You’re so consumed with watching him, that it takes you a second to notice the wet feeling spreading across your lap. 

Looking down, you find that Solomon’s pissed himself. If he’s realized what’s happened, he doesn’t show it, still giggling to himself. You rub affectionate circles into his hips, moaning softly to yourself as the warm liquid soaks your pants.

It takes him a bit, but he does eventually realize where your attention is directed, and looks down at his lap. “Oops,” he is sent into another episode of giggles at the discovery of his accident. As he laughs, Solomon squirms on top of you, grinding himself against your quickly hardening cock. 

“Ooh fuck,” he gasps once he finally stops laughing, “that felt better than usual,” he tells you, slowly grinding his pussy against you. 

“Yeah?” the two of you have done a bit of watersports in the past, but it’s a fairly new kink that you’re exploring. You may not have prepared for this like you have in the past, with towels and several glasses of water and far more dirty talk before the event, but you won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Yeah. I couldn’t um,” he lets out a breathy moan, “I couldn’t tell you if it’s the weed or-” he whines, “ah, I only know that would like to feel you inside me, please.”

One of your hands move from his hips, to cup him through his piss soaked sweatpants. Solomon lets out a low groan, roughly jerking against you. When he’s like this, he knows exactly what he wants and needs, he chases his pleasure recklessly. He huffs, bringing his hands down from your shoulders, to yank his shirt off. The action causes him to sway, but you’re able to steady him before he falls off your lap.

With his pact-marked covered body exposed, your eyes flick to his pierced nipples. Solomon preens under your attention, arching his chest towards you. “Suck them?” he whines, begging easily. While still groping his pussy over the wet sweatpants, you take one of his nipples into his mouth. 

Solomon lets out a high keen, his hips twitching violently. He’s certainly going to cum more than once before you’re done with him. 

You suck and lick at his nipple, tugging gently at the piercing there. Solomon’s hands hold onto your head, his grip weak, but steady. 

“Feel’s s’good,” he whispers, largely to himself you think. Before you move to give the other side attention, you duck your head down and lick at the jagged scars that are long healed. Solomon babbles something incomprehensible to you- perhaps in entirely different language- at the action.

When you move to the other side, he slurs out your name, and nearly falls off your lap again. You steady him by placing your hand on his back and keeping him in place. 

“Oh-” he jerks his hips erratically into your hand, “darling, love, I’m- mhmm- gonna cum,” you spare a glance upwards to see how gone he is already. His dilated eyes are glazed over, and his puffy, pink lips are parted as he gasps for breath. 

You move your hand so your thumb is pressed directly against his clit, and Solomon lets out a gurgled moan as he cums. 

His orgasms are always longer when he’s high, so it takes him a while to ride it out. You diligently suck on his chest until he pulls your head away from his body. 

Solomon slumps against you, and again you wonder if he’s going to fall asleep. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind if you used him to get off- in fact he’s made it explicitly clear that’s something he’d take great pleasure in.

“I’m awake,” he mumbles, as if reading your mind. He sways off your lap and onto the bed, looking up at you sleepily as he lays on his back. You follow him, settling between his soaked, spread legs. 

“Was gonna fuck you either way,” you tell him honestly. Solomon moans, reaching out and tugging at your shirt, indicating he wants it off. You fulfill his request, puling the article of clothing off. 

“Ahh, I was ready to be done, but when you said that, my love,” he sighs happily, “I need more. Tell me more,” he begs, “I want that, I want you to- to fuck me when I’m sleeping. I’ve told you that, right?” he rambles, trying to catch up with his train of thought. You nod,

“Oh yes, you’ve told me at length about how you wanna wake up filled with my cum,” you remind him, tugging at his wet sweats. You peel them off, revealing his drenched panties. His cock is already hard again, creating a small tent in the front.

“I would have laid you down just like this,” you tell him, “and maybe I wouldn’t even take off your panties, just move them to the side and use your hole to get off.” Solomon gasps your name, a wicked smile growing across his face.

“Let’s pretend!” he giggles. You smile at his enthusiasm, but you’re a bit lost. Solomon must gather that you’re confused, so he shuts his eyes, “do what you would have done, if I had fallen asleep. I’ll act like I’m sleeping,” he explains. 

It’s your turn to laugh, at how absurd the idea is. As you look down at him though, it’s easy to imagine he’s asleep. You shrug, because you have a terrible weak spot when it comes to this old man.

If he were asleep, you’d undress yourself first, so you do that, taking off your own soaked clothes and tossing them elsewhere. Your dick is hard and, upon giving it a good stroke, you find that it’s sticky from Solomon’s piss. You moan at your realization. 

Returning your attention to Solomon, you touch his thighs gently. Solomon snickers, taking you out of the scene.

“Babe,” you tease. He laughs, waving his hand to show that he wants you to continue.

“Sorry, sorry, that tickled, you know,” he explains. You pinch the meat of his thigh, 

“If you were asleep you wouldn’t be giggling so much,” you remind him.

“But I’m high,” he opens his eyes, pouting, “I can’t control it.” You give him a look, and he smirks, “okay, okay. I’m asleep,” he closes his eyes again. You roll your eyes, and continue when he really looks like he’s asleep.

Doing what you’d fantasized, you peel his panties to the side, revealing his piss and cum slicked pussy. You can’t help but moan at the sight of him. His cock is erect and twitches under your gaze. You peel his lips apart to get a good look at his hole, and your feel yourself throb. He’s slicked with cum and piss, making him look downright delicious. You can’t wait to be inside of him.

You rub your dick against him, frotting yourself against his sticky cunt. “Fuck, Solomon,” you whisper, looking up to see that he’s still “asleep.” 

Remembering that he’ll need a bit of prep before you can fuck him, you pull your hips back and spit on his hole. Solomon jerks, and his breath hitches, but he otherwise stays in character. 

You press in two fingers, finding him pliant and open under your fingers. Solomon lets out a quiet moan, and flutters around the intrusion. Part of you is aching and desperate to get off, but part of you wants to see him cum one more time before you fuck him. So, you take it slow, curling your fingers, stretching them, pulling them out and playing with his clit, in turn dragging the sweetest, softest sounds from him. 

“More,”’ he begs quietly, his hand flex within the sheets, and you know he’s close. You double down on your efforts, finger fucking him harder and faster, until he’s arching his back and trying to silence his sounds. 

Solomon gushes around you when he cums, fluttering around you as he coats your hand in his fluids. You moan to yourself as you watch him cum for the second time tonight, imagining what he’ll feel like when he cums around your cock.

After some time, Solomon finally slumps back down on the bed and you remove your fingers. They’ve pruned due to how long you’d had your fingers within him, but you pay it no mind as you shuffle around to find the lube. 

Quickly, and quietly, you lather your dick with proper lube, then once again press yourself against Solomon’s cunt. To steady yourself above him, you place your hands on either side of his head, gripping the pillow tightly like how you wish you could grip his hips (but if he really were asleep you think you might be too scared to touch him, worried any touch may be the one to bring him out of his slumber). 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself as your tip catches against his hole. You push your hips forward, and he lets out a whine. You pause, anticipation rising at the prospect of waking him. It’s agony waiting, but eventually Solomon’s breathing evens out, and that’s your cue to continue. These same series of events occurs once or twice more before your hips press flush against his. 

Solomon lets out a shaky curse, his eyes scrunch shut, and he shudders, cumming for the third time tonight. You feel him pulse and squeeze on your dick, and it takes everything in you not to pound him into the bed. 

As soon as he’s done, he goes boneless, breathing heavily as he catches his breath. Now he really looks like he’s sleeping. You know he’s beyond exhausted, so you give him a moment, trying to make sure he doesn’t get overstimulated.

It’s agony to wait, with a shuddering breath, you begin to slowly fuck him.

He lets out a muffled whine, so you take it gentle and easy with him. While you get him used to taking your length you busy yourself with fantasy. Looking down at him you imagine you woke up from him wetting the bed, that he slept through the event, and was blissfully unaware of how hard you got from his pee soaking your pajamas. A shiver goes down your spine at the image you’ve cooked up for yourself, and you let out a low, deep moan. 

Solomon puts on a good show, looking sweet, innocent, and entirely unconscious under you. Your hands flex each time his pussy clenches around you. He feels so hot and wet inside, tight as all hell, even though you spent so long working him open. 

You want to make him wetter, want to fill his cunt with your cum, and the revelation makes your hips jerk erratically. Solomon gasps, and your breath hitches. You stop, feeling like every hair on your body is standing on edge. He hums peacefully after a moment, relaxing further into the bed. 

After a moment, you want to make sure he’s really back “asleep,” you resume fucking him, picking up the pace. 

You’re not going to last too much longer, too worked up by the excitement of the scene before you, and the feeling of him around you.

Finally, you bring a hand down to rub his clit, and Solomon squeals your name. His eyes pop open for a millisecond, and then he’s trying his hardest to act like he’s sleeping again. You’re so preoccupied with getting yourself, and him, to cum that you hardly notice. 

“Solomon,” you whine, chasing after your orgasm, picking up the pace and shakily rubbing at his clit. He clenches like a vice around you, and then a familiar wetness jets from his cunt. “Fuck,” you groan, unable to stop the way that you lose control and pound him into the mattress at the realization that he’s pissing on you once again. 

His stream is far more short-lived this time, but you’re still effected by it all the same. With a long drawn out groan you finish inside him, clumsily and erratically fucking him through your orgasm. 

With you rubbing at his clit, Solomon gets off as soon as you come down from your high. You jerk him off and let him squeeze around your overstimulated cock until he lets out a whimper of pain. 

After you pull out, you spend a second watching your cum drip from his messy cunt, and let out a satisfied sigh. Exhaustion hits next, and you flop down beside him.

“Wuh-what happened?” Solomon asks, turning to you and rubbing at his eyes as if he’d just woken up. His delighted smile gives him away. 

“You’re so cute,” you tell him, covering his face with kisses. 

He giggles, and lays back against the pillow. You watch as his lashes flutter shut, and his laughter ceases. It dawns on you as you watch him, that he’s really falling asleep right now; meaning you’ll have to manage his dead weight as you go about cleaning up.

Despite this, you love him too much to wake him.

[creppersfunpalooza]

wouldn’t it be so silly if my ocs had tumblr

(0 notes)

🎀 metallia’s-banned-account Follow

there’s this one girl i absolutely fucking hate but i need to know what brand of hair dye she uses oh my god. completely unrelated note does anyone know the most effective way of prying open a window without causing permanent damage or any noise? thank you, luv lia 💜

🔁 bunnicula Follow

I’m reporting you.

(25 notes)

🪽 reaperofcupid Follow

HELLO TUMBLR!💞 Have any unresolved love conflicts? A crush you just can’t get out of your head? stop by for a free love potion! i’ll also grant additional wishes that are within my range of capabilities. tips optional (in the form of life force and/or magic <3). you’ll find me if and when you need me!~ xoxoxo

(205 notes)

🧿 priest-of-pawns Follow

going out on the TOWN!! turns out being in the church has some perks lol. we’re volunteering to oversee a few services. excited af. maybe i’ll even get to read some new people.

🔁 priest-of-rooks Follow

FUCK YEAH WE’RE GOING OUTSIDE 💯💯💯 NEW FRIENDS FRESH MEAT

🔁 priest-of-pawns Follow

let’s try to keep the body count low this time okay???

🔁 priest-of-rooks Follow

I’ll try!

🔁 the-church-of-ocellus Follow

aw, you two deserve to live a little. go wild! -celly 👁️

(6,368 notes)

⌛️ allthateverwas Follow

hAhA wAtch thIs gUyS

🔁 thetalesofarabbit’s-banned-account Follow

HELP. GET ME OUT OF HERE. PLEASE.

(1 note)

🌿 fairest-of-folk Follow

@reaperofcupid is a SCAMMER. do NOT buy from him!!!!! i want a REFUND!!!!!!

🔁 reaperofcupid Follow

bitch it’s free. i hope you know how stupid you look right now. now how about you explain your issue like a rational client?

🔁 fairest-of-folk Follow

oh nvm it’s working now :3!! i think!!

🔁 reaperofcupid Follow

lovely. now fuck off.

(15 notes)

🍬 mai-kandi Follow

shoutout to my girlfriend :D!!!!! who may or may not be an FBI agent!!!!!!!!! 💖💖💖 babe you can tell me if you are!!!!!!!

🔁 bunnicula Follow

Uhm. Not exactly. Love you too though! 🖤

(52 notes)

🔷 da-official Follow

Productivity is up 6%! Keep up the good work! New approved hypotheses and studies being released to the public soon!

🔁 the-black-rabbit’s-banned-account Follow

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU????? WHO’S RUNNING THIS FUCKING ACCOUNT??? THAT’S NOT ME. THAT’S NOT ME. IM TRAPPED ON SOME STRANGE PLANE OF EXISTENCE. WHO’S PRETENDING TO BE ME???

🔁 tbr-official Follow

If anyone is aware of who was behind the impersonator account, please stop by my office to report them to me. Thank you, TBR.

(341 notes)

💉 dr-venstal Follow

Looking for volunteer drug testers! Your help contributes to a better future! You’ll get a free lollipop if you participate! <3

🔁 metallia’s-banned-account Follow

nerd.

🔁 dr-venstal Follow

Well, that’s a bit mean.

🔁 metallia’s-banned-account Follow

do i look like i care. go cry in the bathrooms or whatever you gay people do idc.

🔁 dr-venstal Follow

bisexual.

🔁 metallia’s-banned-account Follow

sorry do you want me to cry with you or something? yeah i’m bisexual so what?? do you think calling me that hurts? i was kidding about the gay thing. i also like girls. wow surprise. i kiss women. i am married to a woman.

🔁 dr-venstal Follow

I’m bisexual, Ophelia.

(532 notes)

🎸 yourfavoritebloodycunt Follow

new phone new account. apparently people thought i was a werewolf for a while lmao.

🔁 just-hollywood Follow

YOOUR USEENMAE IS RVRITUAH

🔁 yourfavoritebloodycunt Follow

HUH????!!!?!??

🔁 just-hollywood Follow

YOUT USERNAME

🔁 yourfavoritebloodycunt Follow

WHAT’S WRONG WITH MY USERNAME???

🔁 just-hollywood Follow

IT’SfyfucjUGNY BRITISH.

🔁 yourfavoritebloodycunt Follow

i’m deleting my account. kms. goodbye internet.

(13 notes)

💎 eshimaislegallyblonde Follow

Hellooo! Does anyone have room for a new flat mate?? I do have a certain price range, but I’m working on getting a better job at the moment <3. I love true crime podcasts, coffee shops, sweets, the color pink, and horror movies. I’m fine with all different kinds of music and I’m always open to new things! I’m looking for someone with similar interests, so that way we can develop a closer friendship!

🔁 o0spooky_lover0o Follow

YOU’RE MOVING OUT???????? :{

🔁 eshimaislegallyblonde Follow

oh god oh fuck callum you weren’t supposed to find this. look you’re really sweet but the weird screams coming from your room are starting to freak me out at night.

🔁 o0spooky_lover0o Follow

Oh. okay yeah that’s fair!!!! good luck!!!!!!!!! :3

(3 notes)

[stabbyfoxandrew]

It's all good! I never expected to get a quick answer, as I sent so many questions and kind of knew you'd probably have to think about some of them. I was going to comment directly on the post, but character limit caught me, ugh.

I don't know why but I can imagine most angels kind of being a bit bitchy, so I totally understand Neil! I'd probably do the same lol I hope Andrew at some point just starts buying clothes for Neil, like Andrew one day just shows up with one bag in hand and just gives it to him, no justification whatsoever. But… if it's the clothes Neil died in, do they have blood? Or did they get magically cleaned? How physical is he when he's walking around invisible? Does he have to constantly dodge people when walking around? (That sounds so fucking annoying, I constantly have to do that myself) If somebody spilled sauce in whatever place he's supposed to be currently occupying, would he end up full of sauce? Do his clothes ever get dirty? I'm just envisioning him walking to a laundromat to put them to wash, and just hanging out invisible and shirtless while he's waiting for it to be done.

I'm dying to know what Incident you're talking about! I'm like "feeed me moreeee".

Aaahh, was the part "Unless there are any other semi-invisible people in it." in the last wip post a reference to Kevin's guardian angel?? Is it someone we know? Also also, is there somebody extra in the team (since they couldn't recruit Neil)?

I'm glad to help! I'm glad I can contribute a bit to the story, it makes me happy. I definitely get the blurry weeks too, even months tbh. I haven't been much better, but I'm alright. The best I can possibly be atm. Unfortunately I'm not familiar with Webkinz, I didn't play that many games as a child. I had a Nintendo DS, tho. I miss my Super Mario Bros :') Anyway, just try to take one day at a time, you know? <3

Aw. I hate character limits so much. D: Like, come on man. Let me yap! But anywho. I'll be yapping under the cut! :) <3

You’re absolutely right about the other angels. Like, “Uh… this kid looks insane and also he’s talking to his charge? That’s… not allowed. We are not messing with him. No thank you.” 

Also omg that would be really cute. Andrew just throwing a plastic bag in Neil's lap and sitting down beside him. Neil just: What’s this? | Andrew: I'm tired of looking at that hoodie so I got you one that's not ripped all to hell.

Neil’s clothes aren’t bloody, thankfully. (Oh my god. Can you imagine the night Andrew met Neil if he’d been covered with dried blood? That would’ve gone so differently. And badly. :’)) But no. His clothes had been miracled clean. Like, when he ‘woke up’ to the bright light, he was clean.

Neil doesn’t generally get out of the way. If a human walks through him, that’s their business. (They will experience a sudden chill, but Neil doesn’t know that he has that effect. And he doesn’t care. Lol.) 

Ooh. That’s interesting. So let’s see… If, for example, Neil were sitting in the dining hall with Andrew and the monsters— invisibly of course— and someone spilled something on him… I think I’ve gotta say it would just… get all over him.

And Neil would accidentally pop into Andrew-mode because the shock of suddenly being doused with soda or soup or whatever would have him ‘letting go of the button’. Andrew would likely get choked, Neil might have to do this invisible heimlich maneuver… It would be… Not good. Hilarious, but not good. 

So that’s why Neil typically chills on the roof whenever Andrew isn’t Traveling. Less of a chance to majorly fuck up if he’s not around all the humans. :)

Yes, Neil’s clothes sometimes feel dirty to him. He’s since learned to magic them clean. :) A lot of trial and error on his part. Luckily he doesn’t have to strip naked and wash his clothes in the dorm’s laundry room. Lmao. Naked angel vibing in the corner. Gkldjglk 

Ahhh, I can’t tell you yet. TWT I’m sorry…

Also! Not really. Andrew was mainly just being a smart ass! :) He likes to do that. (We do know Kevy's angel.)

As for the team. No. Janie is still there, but otherwise they haven’t got any other new players. See, Kevin had picked out this striker for them to go see. Out in some tiny town in Arizona. But before they could fly out to see him play, his coach called Wymack to say he’d up and transferred suddenly with only a month left before graduation. Didn’t say where he was moving to or why he was leaving. Kevin was devastated that they’d lost this kid because he could tell he had potential. :((

<33333 I hope things get better soon for all of us. Also, Webkinz is a virtual pet game and I love it dearly. :) I have a couple of pets named Andreil and Kandrew on it right now. Haha. 

Thanks for always being so lovely! <333 I love you dude!! <3

[imtotallyokandnormal]

hiii!! I’m not great at making requests, sorry if this is shittily explained

can you do romantic johndoe headcannons with a reader who plays the guitar and is basically the most stereotypical metalhead in any hollywood film?

Ah my first request!! That's a really fun idea, I'll do my best! By the way I switch between he and they pronouns for Doe, but in future requests I may use she as well since they're genderfluid!

Reader: gn reader

Warnings: none!

Image link: hi!

☆John Doe x Metalhead You!☆

- John definitely wouldn't be one to judge music taste, I imagine he likes all kinds of music (they like seeing the effects different kinds of music has on them). So introducing him to your favorite bands would be really exciting for him!

- He would definitely get immersed into the music, rocking back and forth in time with the beat as he listens with the biggest grin on his face. Of course they likely won't be taking their eyes off you the whole time, but you'll be able to tell by the look in his eyes (they look almost like they're...vibrating?) that he really does enjoy it.

- They definitely wouldn't understand a lot about genres of music, so they're likely to get something wrong (a lot of things actually), but he'd love for you to teach him about different kinds of metal and the intricacies of each genre! Honestly you could talk about the lead guitarist in Cannibal Corpse's grandma or something like that and he'd be completely soaking in every word you say like it's gospel.

- If you have piercings/tattoos honestly they'd be a bit worried about you, not that they don't like them, but they worry about you being hurt. He's learned that humans aren't exactly as durable as he is, so he worries about you doing things like that. Still, they'd definitely be fascinated by your body modifications, tracing their fingers over your tattoos with wide studying eyes or just full on staring at a piercing of yours. They like to study it close, the tip of his nose it practically always touching you because he gets THAT up close (they do not know personal space).

- If you have long metalhead hair he LOVES to play with it! He's practically never off of you anyway but to add onto that his hand is almost always in your hair to some capacity. It doesn't matter if your hair is straight, curly, in dreads, whatever, they WILL play with it. And of course they'll giggle and give you praise while doing it.

- If you have a band. Oh my lord if you have a band they are the BIGGEST FAN YOU GUYS HAVE. They always follow you to practice just to watch you, if you made merch he'd use all of his collected (possibly stolen) money to buy it so he can support you. And during gigs if you give him attention amongst the crowd (like giving him a wink) he WILL quite literally melt onto the floor.

- They love seeing you play guitar and he likes to study how your fingers move along the strings. If you play something at home he'd be mesmerized just by how skillfully you play. He'd absolutely love to have you teach him but I'll be totally honest he's not good at it. He will play the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard and excitedly ask you if they did well (and you can't say no because he just looks so hopeful, pupils all wide).

-Concerts...if you guys went on a concert date he gets fairly protective. He's not always protective, but in places that have big crowds or anywhere unfamiliar to you in The Uncanny Valley he absolutely does. Their usual clinginess is accompanied by them squeezing your arm or hand or hugging you a bit tighter than usual. Honestly they might not be entirely focused on enjoying the night unless you snap them out of it because in their mind anything could happen at any moment. The noise and closeness of everyone in the crowd doesn't exactly calm him either.

- If you do snap him out of it and reassure him things will be fine, then he'll loosen up a bit. He just gets worried about you, about how easily you could slip away from him. But they don't want to stop you from enjoying yourself, so they'd try to focus on the fun parts (while still keeping an eye out for anyone that might try to hurt you).

- You just might need to give him lots of cuddles at home afterwards.

[thenugking]

more Zephyr - sorry, this idea is FASCINATING to me, but - 3, 7, 11, 26, 27?

3. What would their character quest be titled? Why?

Oh man I fucking hate thinking up titles ahgghjkl. Something with Pirate (their job) or Ranger (their class) in it maybe.

7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one?

I don’t think Zephyr has a path where they become More Evil, I think their bad ending is just that they don’t change at all. They continue to not really trust people, to lash out whenever there’s a problem, to look out for themself above all others. They dump a player they’re romancing because hey, this was fun, but it’s time to move on now. They might not even turn up to the reunion, and just send an impersonal letter saying it was nice working with you.

To get their good ending, I think you have to challenge them to do better, to look out for people, to let people look out for them. Most importantly, you have to show them love and support and maybe even forgiveness when that’s pretty difficult to do. Early game Zephyr is abrasive, being suspicious of other companions for keeping secrets while being unwilling to share much about their own life. 

I don’t think it comes out until Act 3, when you meet Gortash at his coronation, that the two of them are siblings, that he tadpoled Zephyr a week or so before the others and sent them off with the Emperor (appearing to them in the form of their Dream Visitor) to retrieve the astral prism. So you discover Zephyr knew all along that Gortash was involved, that the tadpoles weren’t transforming people but instead forcing them to hear and obey the Absolute, and that the cult wanted the astral prism. And I mean, this isn’t as bad as some of the other things your companions are keeping from you, but Zephyr lets it continue for way too long, refuses to apologise, and starts attacking you for blaming them for their family’s bullshit. And if you try to show sympathy, doubles down harder to try to push you away. To pull them onto a lighter path, you have to… not be okay with them doing this, and probably point out that they’re being cruel right now, but that you understand why, and you’re willing to put this behind you if they’ll try better in future. They’d shrug you off at the time, but during the next long rest, pull you into a cutscene to apologise, thank you for sticking by them and admit that they’re not good at dealing with kindness, and promise to try better in future.

…I don’t know how the Gortash plot resolves with Zephyr there (I’m still not sure how it does in their own game yet). Maybe you get an extra option to spare Gortash, but where that goes, I’m really not sure. I don’t think killing or allying with him effects Zephyr’s personality/arc a great deal, but they’re going to be Uneasy and somewhat guilty if you ally with him. I think if you kill him while on their good arc, they lash out before apologising and telling you they don’t blame you and stumbling through a request for emotional support. On the bad arc, they're more likely to just withdraw.

11. What is your Tav’s go-to comfort food?

Zephyr’s been scavenging a whole lot more food than I usually do--I enjoy buying my party little treats, but Zephyr thinks it’s a waste of money to get anything from a trader when there’s so many barrels of potatoes we could be looting. Until one of the traders had salmon pie, which they immediately grabbed up. Sooo I think that’s the answer.

26. Give us one of your Tav’s secrets! 

I don’t know if it’s as much a secret as a thing they refuse to acknowledge about themself, but they want to be treated kindly and gently, and not have to be the Tough, Independent One all the time. (They’re totally Better and Happier as the Tough, Independent One than the scared kid trying their best to appease their parents so clearly they don’t need to change that!!)

27. What is the worst thing they’ve ever done/said to someone they love?

As a kid, there was a lot of ratting out their brothers/throwing them under the bus to their parents, culminating in betraying their oldest brother while he was escaping so… maybe that. Though in fairness, they were an abused kid at the time, and they’ve also done plenty of shit to people as an adult who refuses to admit they need to fix themself.

The major shitty thing they’re doing in the game that I’m rotating round in my head is romancing Karlach without telling her hey, the guy who sold you into slavery is my brother. I hope they’ll feel guilty enough to tell her before they actually have sex, but it’s not impossible we’re going to be reaching the coronation before it comes up.

Anyway, Karlach reacts badly to the fact that Zephyr’s been keeping this from her, and Zephyr tells her that, whatever, you’re actually just like him for blaming them for something shitty their family did. So. That was a pretty horrible thing to say.

(And here’s where we get Zephyr’s in-game “being pulled to a lighter arc”. Once she’s processed things a bit, Karlach comes to find them and tell them that, hey, what you said was Deeply Shitty and wasn’t okay but look--I’m dying, and I want to make the most of my time left, I don’t have the time to hold grudges against people I care about, and who I know care about me and aren’t actually like their shitty evil bastard of a brother. I’m willing to forget it if you are. Zephyr… is aware they don’t necessarily deserve forgiveness for all that. But if Karlach still actually wants to be with them… They don’t want to hurt her further by pulling back again, even if they don’t quite know what to do with forgiveness.)

[tourmalineme]

5k Donut Break my Heart

Jiminpark Never felt anything like this! Japan is amazing J Glad to have @joonie by my side <3

1,763 likes • 455 comments

SmileHoya Got @suga and @seokjin78 to come down to the studio ;) i’m the GOD of persuasion ahah

             367 likes • 98 comments

Pop!

The sound echoes through the empty shop, hitting every corner and coming back to Jungkook’s ears like a taunting haunt, a reminder that he’s been chewing on this bubblegum for so long it has become rubbery and tasteless, but he guesses that’s a pretty appropriate way to describe his mood right now.

Time doesn’t seem to go by any faster as he lazily scrolls down his instagram timeline for the bazillionth time this evening, which he would probably be yelled at for doing during the day shift, but since he’s the only one here at this time and the walls don’t talk, Jungkook is off the hook. 

God, I hope the walls don’t talk. He rolls his eyes before putting his phone down and flexing the muscles on his back, stretching out the effects of being in the same position for several hours.

He looks up slightly, cringing at how his reflexion looks on the refrigerator’s door, hair being squished down by the stupid pink cap he has to wear, oily bangs sticking uncomfortably to his forehead. 

He’s about to take the hat off to fix the mess sitting at the top of his head, or what Jungkook would better consider a fucking raccoon, because at this point it smells just as bad as it looks, the hours spent in the kitchen having made the fried donut oil smell linger between the strands, bothering his sensitive nose and making his late night snack threaten to come back where it came from, when he shrugs and slumps back down on the kitchen wall. 

What’s a little more water thrown into the fact of a man standing in the rain, huh? 

Here, ladies, gentlemen and non-binary folks, is what you call the Third Level of Nightshift Jungkook, The Unbothered Jungkook, three hundred fire trucks could go by and another thousand run him over, at this time of the evening, the boy would not care.

So if he’s still obligated to stay for the rest of his shift and not immediately go home, shower and take this fucking smell off him, it’s safe to say he’ll complain all the way through it.

The moment the bell sound rings through the store, signaling someone’s just opened the front door, Jungkook’s completely enraptured in a twitter thread that describes in detail each cheating Justin Bieber has ever done to Selena Gomez and, oh god, does the boy know he’s reached the Fourth and Final Nightshift Jungkook Level, the guy who once read the entire bee movie script and then recited it, in both trot and shakesperian style, all to not have his grave say 

Jeon Jungkook, 1997 - 2019

Gone too soon, ‘cos he died of boredom.

The thing is: No one comes during the night. He’s had many arguments about this with his manager, fucking Sean, how no one ever comes and the company is wasting money and resources by keeping the shop open at a time where literally no one wants to buy a dumb donut. 

Clubs? Absolutely can be open at the night. Bars? Hell yeah. Pharmacies? Always necessary. Supermakets? Everyone needs a good groceries run at midnight sometimes.

But a donut shop? Not to mention opening only during the day would allow Jungkook to get the good work hours and the decent sleep schedule he’s been dying for. 

And if someone comes, it’s either a creep, a beggar or someone running from the police that needs a place to hide for a few minutes. Most times, the three figures combine into one and while Jungkook gets the shop’s broom to kick out the creeps and the low-level criminals, no one needs to know he might have let two or three homeless people sleep on the cushions for a couple of hours during the cold nights, especially not Sean and his fucking obsession with company policy or what the fuck ever.

Let’s just say Jungkook doesn’t pay much mind to the ringing bell, still thoroughly entertained by the tweets because, oh my fuck, Justin Bieber is a hoe.

The poor boy isn’t even allowed the simple, most futile and void pleasures of life like gossipping, it seems, because the next second a deep voice resonates from behind Jungkook, in the service area. 

“Hey? Hi? Someone out here? I’d like to order something.”

A beat of silence passes. Jungkook closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, putting his phone down gently next to him.

“Hello?”

Jungkook grunts before rolling himself out of the kitchen, looking down as he makes his way to the cashier. He dumps the bubblegum-turned-probably-plastic unceremoniously in the nearest trash can and sighs deeply as he initiates the compute.

“Goodnight, what can I get you on this dainty day?” He drawls lazily while not even meeting eyes with the person, probably not great customer service but Fourth Level Jungkook absolutely doesn’t give a-

Work policy is a bitch.

He assumes by the voice it’s a guy, which he’ll surely reprimand himself later for, but being politically correct is something for a post-nap and stomach-full Jungkook, right now it could be a merfolk talking to him and he probably wouldn’t notice. 

However, by the sake of getting this whole ordeal done and over quickly so he can back to memorizing each model on Selena Gomez’s hit list, he looks up, accidentally meeting eyes with the stranger.

It is a dude. And he’s staring wide eyed, hard at Jungkook. That startles the boy, considering the redness of the customer’s eyes makes him look dazed and sort of demon-like, in Jungkook’s opinion. 

He’s high but maybe a creep too, huh. Don’t get a lot of that combo in a while. Jungkook scoffs unashamedly, because who has time for shame at three in the morning, and the guy seems to get the hint and takes his eyes elsewhere. 

The man whips his head to the menu flashing above them. “Uh- So yeah, what- what’s good here, man? I really have no preference- I mean, what kind of dickhead has a preference on donuts, you know? They’re just donuts, but I guess the topping really matters if you have allergies or something. Imagine someone would eat and then have allergies, be all bloated and shit- “

“Sir.” Jungkook interrupts his weird monologue. “What can I get you?”

The client looks at him like there’s three of Jungkook standing there in the obnoxiously pink polo shirt this stupid place makes him wear, mouth open and eyebrows furrowed, as if he’s just discovered something.

“You’re cute.” is what comes next.

To be frank, Jungkook’s a bit shocked. “Pardon me?” The guy smiles weirdly, only one side of his mouth curving up as he leans both elbows on the white counter, getting closer to where Jungkook is. “Pardon me?” (Wait who says that?) 

“I said, You’re cute. Oh, do you have trouble listening?” He points to his own ears before loudly speaking. “HELLO. I SAID, LIKE BEFORE I MEAN, THAT I THINK YOU ARE CUTE. CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?”

“I can hear you just fine, sir.” Ever the robotic professional, even at 3 in the morning to a stoned guy, Jungkook feels his will to live start to fade away. “I’d just like to know what you’re going to order.”

The man supports his head on the arms in the counter, looking up at Jungkook with wide eyes and that weird half-smile. “Your pick, cutie. Just get me like five, yeah? Kinda hungry, to be honest.”

Jungkook scoffs, it’s really not the first time to be hit on at work, but maybe it is the first time for the person to do it at this time and be as intoxicated as this. “Alright then,” He types in the order number and the code before confirming the purchase. “It’ll be five chocolate cake donut with rainbow sprinkles coming right up, sir.” He turns back to the customer. “That gives your total of 10 dollars.”

“Woah, hold up. Did you just have that memorized?” He gapes, his head already reaching half his arm.

Jungkook needs to scratch his head and throws his bubblegum out before actually responding. “Yeah, I work here. It’s expected of us.” God, this is giving him a headache. “Would you like to pay up in cash, debit or credit card? We are not accepting checks right now, but sometime next week we maybe-”

“Go out with me.” The client says, having switched to lean on his other arm while Jungkook was speaking.

The robotic cashier persona drops and Jungkook splutters. “Why? Why would I even? I mean, no.” He shakes his head repeatedly, right knee jerking with it.

“Hm. Because you’re cute. And smart. “ He stands upright, surprising Jungkook. “Memorized all the donuts and their prices, that’s some smart shit right there. And because you’re cute.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling a 20 dollar bill out to slip it across the counter, in Jungkook’s direction. “Wait, have I already said that? I can’t remember.”

He’s looking deep into Jungkook’s eyes as the boy reaches for the money. “God, am I really that high I’m just imagining you exist?” As Jungkook’s grabs the money, the man pulls it back, making Jungkook gasp and go forward. “Go out with me.”

Jungkook grabs the money hard and pulls. “No.” He opens up the cash drawer and deposits the money before taking out a 10 dollar bill. “Here you go, sir.”

The man giggles and his smile is boxy and beautiful, pink lips stretched around white teeth. “Sir? You make me feel like I’m 56, cutie.” His eyes go wide. “Which I’m not! Okay? Is this why you refused me? Because I mean..” He scoffs playfully and gestures to his own body. “Who would refuse this, amirite?”

Jungkook cringes before handing him the 10 dollar bill. “Your five chocolate cake donuts with rainbow sprinkles will be right over, sir.” He walks to the freezer where they keep the pre-made dough, grabbing five of them, and puts on his gloves.

“What’s my final answer, then?” Jungkook can tell he moved by where his voice is coming from. If 1 year and 8 months working in this hell hole was useful in anyway, he guesses the client is sitting at one of the counter stools, spinning on it, by the annoying sound it makes because of the loose screw he keeps telling management to fucking fix.

“I believe my mother used to tell me ‘No means no’.” Jungkook puts the dough in the fryer basket, before dipping it into the oil. The stool sound stops.

“Oh my god. I’m not- I mean- I never meant to-“ The man struggles and Jungkook feels an odd urge to laugh about it. “Listen, I’m all about consent, okay? I know no is no, I get when people are uncomfortable. I’m all up for that Me Too thing, you know, I’m on women’s side- erm..not only women I mean, every genders side! Gender side is the side I’m on, I mean I’m a feminist! I promise.” 

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle, feeling the ranting guy’s eyes burn at the back of his shaking shoulders, while he keeps an eye to not get actually burnt on the hot frying oil.

 “I don’t mean to sound like- like a creep or anything, I just think you’re like so so so so so so-“ Jungkook starts giggling, a little laugh slipping out. “Uh, god. I’m embarrassing myself. What are you doing, Taehyung? Pull yourself together, dude. Uh, what was I saying? Oh, yeah. You’re like really cute so I think we should go out because I’m also really cute, so that’s why I’m insisting it. But if you think I’m a creep, just tell me to fuck off and I will, alright?”

Taehyung. It sounds nice, Jungkook thinks, as he gets the fried doughs out of the basket and sets them out to dry.

Taking a deep breath, he speaks. “I’m not gonna tell you to fuck off and I don’t think you’re a creep.” He grabs a knife and slices through each dough. “I’m telling you no, because it’s three am and you’re high as hell.” He plops a big chunk of chocolate filling in each of the doughs, spreading it on top of the part he’s just sliced.

“So?” Taehyung scoffs. “That’s no big deal.”

Jungkook closes both halves of each dough, grabbing the melted chocolate before pouring it all over them. “Maybe.” He grabs the rainbow sprinkles, sprinkling them. “But the big deal is, you’re not gonna remember any of this tomorrow. Not asking me out,” He puts them on a tray, leading them to the freezer. “Certainly not my face.” He turns back to Taehyung.

“I could never forget a face like yours, cutie.” He’s leaning his elbows on the counters again, head supported by both his hands, eyes sparkling. Jungkook cringes. Again. 

“Alright, then.” He searches under the counter for a paper pack for five, finding it on the corner of the shelf before putting it on the counter. He sighs tiredly and begins to set it up.

“So you’ll go on a date with me?” Taehyung perks up.

Jungkook smiles a little after he’s done and walks away to get the donuts from the refrigerator. “That’s not what I said.”

“Then let’s make a deal.” The man has a dead serious face on when Jungkook returns.

It makes him want to laugh again. “A deal, huh?”

“Yeah. If I come here tomorrow, sober, day time, sun’s shining and everything, and I remember you and your face, will you go out with me?” Jungkook puts the donuts in the pack, putting it inside a paper bag.

“Maybe.” Jungkook walks over to the cashier and grabs his receipt.

“Only maybe?” Taehyung follows him as he walks, now, each from opposite sides of the counter and it’s ridiculous if someone was to look from the outside.

He sighs and smiles at the absurdity of it all. Grabbing the paper bag and the receipt, he offers it towards Taehyung. “It’s a Wednesday, I don’t work today’s daytime and tomorrow’s my day off. On Fridays, I work nights again and the restaurant is closed on weekends. I only work day shifts on Mondays and Tuesdays.”

Taehyung does his weird half smile again and gets the paper bag and receipt. “Did you write your number on the receipt, too?”

“No.” Jungkook takes his gloves off. “That would help you remember.” He throws them on the trash and crosses his arms, looking back into those reddened eyes. “That’s not fair, is it?”

“Well, I, for one, think the world’s completely unfair.” Taehyung tries.

“Have a dainty day, sir.” Is all Jungkook replies, before moving back to the kitchen.

“I’ll come back!” Taehyung calls after him.

Jungkook yells “I’m sure you will.”

He hides behind the kitchen’s wall again, more animatedly than the last time he stood there. He hears the front door bell ring and can’t help but smile, grabbing his phone to check the time.

03:59 AM

So, another hour.

Slumping down at the wall again, Jungkook smiles as he thinks. I’ll be fine.

***

His cheeks are cold where they meet the pearly white counter, polished for a whole twenty minutes so Jungkook wouldn’t hear another “This is not Dainty Donut policy, Junglebooks. We need you to be better than this.” from his manager when he was clocking out last wednesday.

Well, I leave one spot on the counter and it’s the end of the world, but he knows my name and yet he still-

Jungkook huffs, borderline whiny. He’s sat at the service area this time, cap discarded somewhere on the counter, phone in hand again, playing one of the many games he’s had to download on his phone simply to not die from boredom in this place.

He doesn’t even know why the shop is open at this time, no one comes to get a donut at three in the morning. It would be so much easier for Jungkook to get all his shifts to be during the day, so he wouldn’t be downing two coffees every morning as if he needs it to breathe.

 No one. Except maybe cute boys high on most likely weed, Jungkook’s brain helpfully supplies.

It’s not that he spent hours wondering whether or not Taehyung would actually be back, the whole thing too amusing to be considered an actual occurrence. He told Hoseok about it in the morning, after he had regained all his brain functions in a 30-minute nap, and they both laughed about it, no big deal.

Still.

Moments like this, where the only thing he can hear is the wind making the glass door flutter and the menu panel lights flicker, gets Jungkook thinking. Who even was that guy? Taehyung. A name and a face that Jungkook fails to easily forget, nagging and even a little taunting to him. They make their way into the front of Jungkook’s brain the moment he doesn’t have anything else to think about, and he finds himself doing nothing to push them away.

That’s the thing, isn’t it? Jungkook’s an easily intrigued person. He’s fascinated with just about anything, from flowers, dance moves, buildings, landscapes, to pink lips, red eyes and a killer smile. He doesn’t just meet, doesn’t just let go, he has to keep thinking about it, every step of their interaction, how Taehyung rambled and mixed up words, how he had trouble keeping his head up, how shameless he was in asking Jungkook out.

There’s no hope, the boy swears to himself, no expectations. It’s just intriguing, a random appearance in his life, an open door, that makes him wonder. Will he see him again? Will they never see each other again? What’s his full name? How old is he?

You’re a creep, Jeon Jungkook.

He isn’t, he’s just curious. Curious and thinking.

He likes to do this, from time to time, appreciate life. He may never see Taehyung again, but they’ll always have interacted, even if they both die tomorrow in a terrible accident; their paths have been crossed and their timelines, tangled. It’s the uncertainty that most people fear and panic over that Jungkook likes, he finds it rather thrilling.

In 50 years, maybe, he’ll have forgotten about all of this. Taehyung, his red eyes, his black hair and slurred speech. He’ll have forgotten about this place, his horrid uniform, about the screech the stool’s loose screws make. Maybe he’ll be dead, who knows. But this will always have happened, he’ll always have worked in Dainty Donuts for almost two years, always have met, flirted, with the stoned costumer who came to get donuts at 2AM and let him choose. If he hadn’t done all of this, maybe his future would have been different.

Or maybe it wouldn’t, he’ll never know.

Jungkook giggles. That’s the fun part.

He’s spiraling, he thinks, having been on your phone for most of the past five hours was bound to cause that effect and at this point, he can barely concentrate in matching the three candies he needs to finish this Candy Crush level. To support his statement, he thinks he just imagines the front door open, bell ringing loudly in the annoying silence, because there is  no way in hell.

The sounds of footsteps and laughter snap him out of it, and the crippling cold feeling of professionalism runs through his veins, making him straighten up and grab the pink cap, hurriedly adjusting it over his head. He stands expectant, back tense and ears alert, just as he was trained to do.

A familiar voice flits through the door and holy fucking hell if it doesn’t at least incite a small surprised smile from Jungkook, who makes sure that’s nowhere to be seen when the voice gets closer and closer.

“And then I said, ‘Well, what more do you expect from me?’ and she-” He wheezes out. “She didn’t reply! Because she’s a plant and plants don’t speak!” Laughter, loud and clear, fills the place, breaking the natural silence. 

It’s him. It’s Taehyung. Laughing.

“I would’ve never pictured you as someone who talks to plants.”

He’s not alone.

The two figures approach the counter, attached by the hip, literally, hands on waists and Jungkook can see it all so clearly. As they get closer, he can see Taehyung and all his strong neck and jaw glory, his eyes are red and unfocused, body lazy and completely dependent on the person next to him to remain standing.

Funnily enough, it’s the man supporting him that looks at Jungkook first, probably ready to order, so the employee is quick to play his part.

“What can I get you on this dainty day?” The man’s eyes are red too, like Taehyung’s, crinkling up as he bursts into laughter.

“‘Dainty day’? Is that what they’ve got you guys saying now?” He laughs and Jungkook clears his throat uncomfortably. Taehyung hasn’t said a word, mind probably too enticed fogged up, unfocused because of all the smoke he’d inhaled. “I’ll have something with caramel in it, yeah? Get me those packs with like six of them.”

Jungkook’s lower back hurts, the side of his head already aching. “Would your friend like anything too, sir?” He looks up, only to meet eyes with a smiling Taehyung.

It’s a mix of a smirk and his typical half-smile, but that’s not what bothers the boy behind the counter, but the glint of recognition that sparkles in his intoxicated eyes does. He frees himself from the other man’s grip, stretching an arm on the counter, in Jungkook’s direction.

“Don’t you remember me, cutie? I sure do remember you. How could I not?” He smiles but can barely hold himself up so reluctantly sits at one of the stools. “I told you I’d be back. Told you so.”

“Is this why you wanted to come here so badly? To flirt with the donut place guy?” The other man also sits down, probably afraid Taehyung will fall if he’s not supported somehow. “How haven’t you mentioned this before?”

Taehyung’s eyes never leave Jungkook, who stands with clasped waiting hands on the top of his belly. “Hm. He doesn’t remember my cutie, which is a pity, really, look how cute he is.”

“He? Who doesn’t remember him?” The man voices every Jungkook’s exact thought bouncing on and off in his brain and he’s glad for it. Taehyung dismisses his questions with a wave of long delicate fingers like it’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

“Him, you know.” He makes a gagging sound. “Sober Taehyung. Ever the bore, isn’t he? I think so.” He rips his gaze from Jungkook to glare at his friend. “By the way, how don’t you get tired of him? You’re truly an angel, Jimin.”

Taehyung’s friend rolls his eyes. “Here you go. You do know ‘Sober’ Taehyung is still you, right?” They have completely forgotten Jungkook is here it seems, whose lower back hurts from his discomfort, his fingers squeezing each other so hard he’s sure they’re white by now. “And I would never get tired of you, dickhead.”

If there’s anything he cannot get over after all this time working in the dessert parlour, it’s being ignored. The invisibility, the submission this job requires him to have is incredibly crushing, the mentality that ‘the costumer is always right’ goes against all his morals, makes his skin itch.

So he speaks up, moodily. “Is there anything you would like to add or can I get you your check?”

Two heads snap in his direction. So they really did forget he was there, Jungkook thinks. He defiantly holds his head up, arms crossed and posture tense, waiting anxiously for something, anything.

“I’ll have whatever you picked for me last time, cutie.” Taehyung calmly speaks, as if he’s soothing an angry animal. “It was a good choice.”

Jungkook huffs and it’s silent now, fingers heavily pressing the keys to log the order in resounding louder than how it is supposed to. His knee jerks anxiously while they wait for the receipt to print, both guys having gotten their heads closer, whispering to each other.

He holds the printed receipt out for Jimin, the closest to him to take, but his eyes meet Taehyung’s. “Your total is 12.95 dollars, would you like to pay up in cash, debit or credit card? We are not accepting checks right now, but sometime next week we maybe be able to do that.” Taehyung’s head cocks, a ghost of a smile plays in his lips.

“Cash.” It’s Jimin, as Jungkook’s learned, who answers.

He pays, too, for both of them and Jungkook wonders if he made the wrong assumption that they are just friends. He takes the money, giving back his change and the receipt. “A pack of caramel glazed donuts, coming right up.”

When he walks away, Jungkook feels out of breath. He starts to make the donuts automatically, hands used to the motions but his ears are alert, straining to hear the conversation between the two men behind him. A couple minutes later, as he pours caramel, he catches something.

“Wait for me outside, ok buddy? I’ll get our food and then we can get going.” It’s Taehyung.

Taehyung’s just asked his friend to leave, to wait outside, so he and Jungkook would be alone. If the worker’s hands shakes and his heart drops to his stomach, well, that’sonly for him to know.

He turns around when the bell rings, setting the tray on the counter and ducking to find a pack, and then, a wave of Déjà vu washes over him. He’s here again, this late at night, packing donuts for Taehyung, who sits in the exact same place as last time.

He stands straight again, but doesn’t dare to look up and meet those sultry eyes, I can’t, not this up close, Jungkook decides. Instead, he focuses on his job, making sure everything is secure and ready to be delivered, when a sudden warm hand suddenly falls over his, fingers delicate and beautiful.

“I told you I’d come back and I did. I suppose you owe me a date now.” Has his voice gotten even deeper? Jungkook can’t tell, can’t breathe, it’s 3 in the morning and he feels absolutely exhilarated.

He takes a deep breath, never looking up. “I told you to come sober, you came high again.” He’s done packing so he just presses his palms in the cold surface and the contrast with the warmth of Taehyung’s hand almost makes him shiver. “I think you promised something about daylight, too.”

“Got some memory in you, huh?” The hand is gone and Jungkook suppresses the urge to show he misses it immediately. “Shame Sober Taehyung doesn’t, he’s a real dumbass.”

Jungkook frowns at the white counter, but the man doesn’t stop talking. “I’m glad he can’t remember you, you’d be disappointed. He doesn’t know how to handle you.” He speaks confidently.

The employee’s eyes snap up to his. “Why do you do that?” He lets out a breath. “Talk about yourself in the third person, like you become someone else when you’re high.”

Taehyung only smiles, lazy and satisfied. “I like to think so.” Then, he repeats. “Go out with me.”

“Why do you feel that way?” Jungkook ignores him. “What makes you different from him?” What do you want to hide when you smoke? He wants to ask.

“You’re curious?” He sits straight, broad shoulders giving him a serious poise. “Go out with me to find out.”

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, he’s getting aggravated. “You sure were chatty the other night, what changed?”

Taehyung sighs. “Listen, I-“

He doesn’t give the customer the chance. “And who would I even go out with? You? Him?” He’s past aggravated now. “Quite frankly, you don’t even know my name. More than that, you don’t know anything about me.” Please want to. The neglected voice in his head says. “So go find another person to toy with at this ungodly time just because you’re bored, please.”

Silence.

I can’t be here. Jungkook makes to leave, maybe he’ll hide in the kitchen again, or wait for the man to leave so he can close the shop.

All his plans are ruined by the warm fingers curling around his arm.

He reluctantly turns back to Taehyung. “I know your name, Jungkook.” His eyes are calm, sincere, less red. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you were toyed with.” He doesn’t let go of his arm, just rests his own elbow on the white surface, the only thing separating them. “I guess I’m not that different from Sober Taehyung after all.”

Jungkook sucks in a harsh breath. He feels like he’s been standing there just breathing for at least half an hour, even if he knows it’s only a couple of minutes. 

“How do you know my name?.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Taehyung’s eyes overflow with something that can only be named as fondness. “It’s on your name tag.”

Stupid, idiot, fool. Jungkook calls himself all those things when he looks down and sees that, yes, he’s wearing a tag with his name on it. Not much left to do, he sighs.

“The deal is the same.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide. “What?”

“The deal.” Jungkook’s eyes are almost shy in looking at the man still holding his arm. “Come here sober, during the day, and I might consider going out with you.”

There’s a determination in the other’s eyes he hasn’t seen before. “I will make sure he remembers you, I’ll set up notes, alarms, reminders, anything. He’s gonna have to come here.”

The hand on his arm trails down, reaching and caressing his hand. “You’re more than something to toy with, Jungkook.” His hand is so warm. Jungkook is feeling a bit dizzy if he’s honest. “Doesn’t matter how, where or when we met, you’re not a toy. And I’m gonna come back for you.”

It feels like a promise, but it shouldn’t. Because they are strangers, two people who should mean nothing to each other, should never even look twice the other’s way and most certainly not promise anything. Because Jungkook’s still wearing that horrid uniform, disgusting khaki pants and he’s sure he looks anything but cute.

Still, he says. “Okay.” Then nods frantically. “I’ll be waiting.”

They exchange one last look and Jungkook pulls back first, carefully. Taehyung eventually hops off the stool, grabs the donut bag and heading out, bell ringing when he opens the glass door. Meanwhile, the employee makes his way into the kitchen, walking backwards quietly, watching the other leave.

Before the door closes, he thinks he hears:

“Hi, buddy. I’m gonna need you to remind me of something tomorrow.”

***

The next time Jungkook has to work, his hands aren’t as carefree to go through every single feature available on his phone in a pitiful attempt to get through his work hours faster. 

Now, sweat drips from his hairline, a drop of sweat falling on his lashes and making him blink repeatedly while trying to make his way out of the kitchen. Unfortunately, Jungkook’s never been a guy to succeed in his tries.

“Watch where you’re going, Junglebooks!” Jungkook bumps into his supervisor 

[hongism]

HI BABY LISTEN. L I S T E N.

I spent the last few days, or week idek, reading mist of Celeste. WHEN I TELL YOU, YELL AT YOU, SCREAM TO YOU, that is one of the best fic ever. You tick all the cases for this one, I’m giggling I’m so fucking into this story you have no idea. Also I’m not just saying fanfic, but fic. I’m including all the books I’ve read and there’s a lot, let me tell you (also if you have any rec I’m all ears, really, if some inspired you for mist of celest specifically even if it’s not the same setting ie space piracy)

ANYWAYS first of all, space pirates. Bam, you have my heart. The world building is perfect, original enough for it to be interesting but not specific enough for it to be confusing (or taking too much time to understand). The characters ? Darling will you marry me ? I absolutely hate when author just fill their casting up with so so much trauma that it doesn’t make sense. You did it beautifully. Each character’s trauma makes sense, the way it evolves, the way it gets intwined with other characters, mixing everything up, it’s fucking alive. As it should be. There is development and adaptation, causes and effects, consequences to actions and thoughts behind every single one of them (even the lack of thoughts is justifiable and coherent). We feel for every one of them, and we also get mad at them sometimes for the way they act or the things they say. Feeling that way for fictional characters is an impressive achievement on the author’s part imo, because you succeeded in making it real enough for them to affect us.

Now the plot. I’m so mad, it’s so good. It’s so well made with the world building ? Like you cannot take this plot and just use it in another AU. It won’t work. That’s something I really like and makes it so much more enjoyable to read, like you’re really in this universe and not another one. In this story. The pacing helps a lot. You did a marvellous job with that one. It’s not too quick and not too slow, the interim chapters are a delight too when you want the extra information. Just like a treat that you can easily skip if you’re too hungry for the meal. The way you give out informations on the characters is… i don’t have any words for that. The foreshadowing is absolutely perfect. At the beginning ? For the siren thing ? I was giggling like mad and gasping when I realised things along the way (and before our lovely mc expressed those herself).

All in all, I��m absolutely in love with this story and also I have to agree with your bio (if you’re number one, I’m number two). But yeah, thanks a lot for the free amazing story, I’ll be keeping an eye out for the updates and pls pls pls pls pls pls if you write a book share the title and all here so I can run to the nearest bookstore and buy it. I love your writing style and what comes out of your imagination.

Alright, good night or good day depending on when you’ll see this <3

oh my GOSHHHH THANK YOU??? wow holy cannoli this made me smile so much my cheeks hurt a bit now ngl thank you 😭 first off for book recs i don't have many but a few of my faves that have really influenced my writing are pretty popular so i'm sure many already know them but ender's game, six of crows, mistborn, shadow and bone, the broken earth series, lovecraft's works, lord of the flies, the iliad and the odyssey!

all your compliments to the aspects of the story that i spent the most time on constructing and fine tuning seriously thank you ;;-; ah it's always always so so nice to hear my hard work paid off especially the aspects of the trauma and dealing with that trauma, that's what makes it so hard to sit down and right bc i have to get in that mindset to handle that so carefully that it's very hard to do sometimes ;-; evoking emotion from readers is always one of my goals with my writing and i love being able to do that!!

i always worry about the plot being predictable or the pacing being either too quick or too slow or just a bore to get through in general, and i love using the interims as a playground to offer info for those who want it, and as im sure is obvious I LOVE FORESHADOWING!!! my favorite reactions are the WAIT HUH WHAT reactions those are such a delight ldkfjaweljwlkef

hehe thank you thank you i have such a love and appreciation for writers especially here on this platform where is can be such thankless work and bee @atzfilm works so hard on their stuff and puts so much time and effort into it its seriously inspiring and amazing and i love getting to be her friend and getting to experience her writing and i love love love seeing her get appreciated for that work too :3 maybe one day i'll write a full on book i can't imagine a world that i'm not doing some sort of writing in so i'm sure that eventually one day it will come to fruition!!!

i hope you have a good night or good day depending on when i'm answering this <3

[infunred]

TEST 4: A DATE WITH MARKIPLI- I MEAN THE AMAZING ONE

It was a perfect day, because of course it was. Casey would have threatened the sky if it meant clearing the clouds. But luckily there was no need. They sit in a local coffee shop, dressed way too nicely for just hanging out. But they got too excited and wanted to impress Max. So much so that they showed up an hour early to make sure everything was perfect. And weirdly enough, most everyone has left except for the workers. Casey now sits, leg bouncing, waiting for Max to arrive.

Max slams open the door, rushing in, the bell ringing loudly above the door and startling Casey. He frantically looks around before spotting Casey and making an effort to slowly walk over like a normal member of society. Keyword: effort. “Hi, i'm so so so sorry i'm late, I was helping out a friend with a favor and I lost track of time and I really didn’t get any sleep last night and-” 

Considering Casey is the only customer currently in the shop, Max does not pull off the cool transition well. He tries to take a deep breath to stop breathing so damn fast. He’s a bit out of shape. “And I’m really sorry I wasted your time like that” Max is really only 20 minutes late, but to him it feels like 2 hours. “How um, how are you?” Although he was late, it didn't bother Casey as much as they thought that it should, and they gave him a wide smile. "No need to apologize!" They (not so subtly) show off the fancy dress they wore for the evening. "It's nice of you to help out a friend, and you weren't too late, I was only just getting bored." 

They responded with a giggle, "I'm great. Especially now that you're here."

Casey is full flung head over heels at the sight of Max.

“Awwww, that’s so sweet of you to say!” Max’s face flushes. “I have to say, you look absolutely magnificent. I especially love the stitching and embroidery at the hem. I’ve never seen you wear a dress like that before but it looks almost like it was made for you.”

The dress was made for them. They had their tailor make something just for today.

“Where did you buy i- uhh, I mean… uh… never mind, I’m sure you don’t want to discuss fashion with a guy like me” Max laughs nervously.

"Oh- uhm I bought it at…Claire's?" It was a lie. They got it from their personal tailor. "Thank you so much for the compliments! I know it's a little fancy for a cafe but I wanted to impress you."

Max very well knows that dresses aren’t sold at Claire’s. “Um, Claire’s, huh. Well you’re very lucky… Was it like a promotion or something?”

Casey has no clue what to say as they have little knowledge on what Claire’s actually sells. The safe answer would be ‘Yes, something like that,’ but then again, this is Casey Briar. Completely unpredictable and incredible at embarrassing themself. Hide your washing machines.

“I’ll stop asking about the dress, I'm being kinda weird” Max rubs the back of his neck.

"No! No, you're fine! I honestly like being able to talk to someone about dresses, no one I know really cares about fashion." Casey looks at their hands in their lap.

Max stammers. “I, ha, I mean, I don’t…um” 

"Are you not into fashion?" Casey frowned.

“Ah, um. I mean, “ Max hears a slight ringing in their ear. They should really open up to Casey, they only mean the best. “Yes, I’m into fashion,” he takes a deep breath. The ringing stops. “At least sort of, I mean, I don’t really care about…Well, any of the modern stuff I suppose. it’s all kinda… sweatshop-y? No one does their stitching right and it bothers me because like, I can see it right? Like it’s right in front of my eyeballs. I can see the effects of slave labour and just, it feels like no one ever cares to pay attention to it? I mean, everyone has like 40 print tees with dumb brands on them, and yet if you destroy one of their beloved graphic tees, half the time they wouldn’t even notice? I mean hell, half of it ends up in the landfill anyway. But the worst part is the clothes aren’t even good at being clothes, like. They fall apart in days, and they almost never darn nicely, and just. It sucks.” Max realizes. “Um… I’m rambling aren’t I, I’m sorry. I can shut up, I feel like I haven’t given you a chance to speak at all”

"No, I actually like listening to you. You know a lot." They tucked a stray strand of hair behind their ear. "And with such standards it makes me even more happy you complimented my dress earlier.."

Max smiles, relieved. “Aww, I mean, I feel like it’s the basics of ethical wear, but, sorry I keep putting my foot in my mouth. Yes, I really mean it about the dress, it’s magnificent. What do you think about fashion if I may ask?”

A blush made its way to Casey’s cheeks. "Uhm, I've never made clothes myself and most of mine are made by my tailor, but I really enjoy cute clothes. The ones that show off my waist, and fit well with my jewelry. I sometimes watch my tailor when he sews and I've tried it out once! I pricked my finger and he said I wouldn't be allowed to touch the needles again but it was so fun to see the dresses he made come together." They ended up rambling. "Ah, sorry, now I'm the one talking your ear off."

“Don’t worry about it, I think it’s super cool you hired a tailor. I did the same back when I was learning. It’s pretty easy once you know all the stitches, but you know, that takes a while.” Max relaxes a bit in his chair. “Hey, If ever you want help with an outfit and your tailor’s busy, feel free to give me a shout. I’m a bit of an amateur, but I know enough of the basics I’m sure I could lend a hand!” 

While the two chat, the workers behind the counter whisper among themselves before one finally walks around to the table. He nervously smiles and asks “Would you two like to order anything?”

"Yes please!" Casey started their very long and specific order that they order every time they come to this cafe. The workers already know their order but they still say it out loud every single time to their annoyance, 'just in case' they forget, even though they absolutely could just say 'my usual' and they'd get the same order. "Did you get all that? I can repeat it if needed." The waiter shakes his head and finishes drawing a squid in his notepad, because he knows if he doesn’t ‘write it down’ then Casey will repeat it, but he doesn’t mind. Helps him practice drawing. “Yup! Got it all down. Your usual!”

 Casey looks over. "What would you like, Max?"

“I’m really sorry, I uh, don’t know what the drinks on this menu are… Um, do you guys have frozen drinks? Like a frappe?”

“Well, yes we do, but we don’t call them frappe’s. Well no, we’re not supposed to call them frappe’s. They’re called…” the waiter sighs “Réveil Glacé…”

“Can I have a large er ‘Ruhvale Glass eh’?”

“We don’t have large’s we have Cup, Mug, and Vase. A large is a vase.”The waiter looks more and more miserable as he explains the shop's poor wording.

“A um, a ‘vaws’ of that previous drink then?” Max says, very sure he butchered the pronunciation.

“It’s- it’s just Vase. Like- something you put flowers in. It’s not French.”

“Oh um,” Max blushes. “Right. That then.”

The waiter nods and heads back behind the counter to make the drinks.

Casey tries to contain their laughter, failing, as they try to soothe Max. "It's okay hun, your pronunciation was amazing. I'm so proud of you." Max clearly looks EXHAUSTED from that exchange. 

“Fr- f- French is really hard Casey. It- it’s my worst subject…” He frowns.

"That's okay, it doesn't make you any less amazing." Casey is fluent in French, their mother made them learn it because it was a ‘dignified language’. They’re being kind to Max right now.

“We’ve only been studying it 4 years, it’s no fair they want me to understand whole entire sentences.” It’s completely fair for the school to expect them to understand full sentences, in fact it’s a miracle Max made it to French 4.

Casey almost laughed at that, but they held themself together. "It's okay, do you want me to tutor you? I'm. Pretty decent at French."

Max smiles. “That would be nice. I don’t know if it’s ahead of your learning, but if you can help me with passay ant-earier, I might be able to start on my assignment.”

"... I'm sure I can help you, don't worry." Casey had absolutely no clue what he was attempting to say in French. The narrator doesn’t know either. It also seems Max doesn’t.

The waiter walks back again two drinks in hand. One that looks to be a mountain of treats on top of coffee and the other, a usual frappe. He sets them down and asks “Would you two like anything else?”

"Yes, can we have a few cookies?" Casey asks, clasping their hands together.

“Sure! We have chocolate chip, sugar, raisin, double chocolate, vanilla, macaroons, macadamia nut, almond, and honey crisp.”

"Are you allergic to nuts, Max?"

“Just peanuts, the rest are fine, if you know there is no peanut oil or anything”

"Uh." Casey turns to the waiter, "Can we have all of them except for the ones with peanut oil?"

The waiter nods. “Sounds good! One of each or two?”

"Two, please!"

He smiles and says “coming up!” And quickly heads to the cookie display. The waiter comes back with a large plate of cookies and says “Enjoy!” Before heading back to the counter

“Hey Um. Thanks for all this.” Max fidgets with his hands. “I wouldn’t have ever thought to do something nice like this on my own and it’s really nice to be able to take a break from all the messiness in my life. Well, most of the messiness anyway.” He smiles. “You’re a really good person, Casey. I mean I’m sure you get that all the time but, I still think it needs to be said.” Despite being told that every day, for once it’s obvious that Max truly means it.

"Actually, I don't hear it that much.." Casey’s face goes red. "You're the first to, like, actually say I'm a nice person and not say it just cuz there's something to gain from being friends with me." This time, they looked from their hands and smiled at Max. "Thank you so much. If you ever need a break, you have my number, I'll always make time for you. Even if it's the end of the world."

Max blushes. “That’s really sweet. Though, the end of the world may come sooner than we think. Whole lot of capes these days and their powers can be anything. I heard one guy can freeze everything for half a mile around… All I’m saying is- you mean a lot to me, so take care of yourself, okay?”

The way he talked about capes caused them to pause, not sure how to respond. They just said, "Thank you. You too, Max. You mean a lot to me too."

The sky starts to turn red as the sun goes down. “We will close soon, just so you know.” the waiter calls out.

"Oh! Time flew by, huh? Well, I'm sure you have other things to do so we can call it a day?"

“Oh, yeah! Maybe text me sometime, again and um, I’ll, uh. Um.”

Casey giggles, "I'll text you." Then, they leaned over and pressed a small kiss on Max’s cheek. "See you, Maxie. This was fun!"

The narrator screams. Max is completely speechless.

Casey’s phone rings and after checking it, it appears to be their mother. Their wonderful time just got crushed, their mom was wanting to know where they were and why they weren't home. As they read the texts their face fell, it appeared she had been texting for hours at this point and they hadn't checked. There was no way they were getting off easy when they got home. They whispered under their breath. “Fuck.” The phone falls silent as the call finally stops. Right after it starts to ring again. Casey knows she won’t call a third time.

They quickly rushed out the door, waving goodbye to Max. As the door swings shut, Casey looks back to meet Max’s eye. Their eyes are full of tears, and their face is pale. Then the door shuts and the waiter looks to Max. “Don’t worry about paying, they prepaid and what not. I hope you had a lovely day!” 

Casey takes the call. "Yes, mother?"

“Where are you?” The voice is cold.

"I'm on my way home, I'm sorry, I didn't see the texts until now."

“I don’t want to have to wait for you. Either fly home or tell the driver where you are, we have dinner in 30 minutes and you will not be late. We are having very important guests over.”

"I'm sorry, I'll be home." They kept their voice from breaking mid sentence.

Casey’s mother hangs up, and the driver soon texts “Where may I pick you up?”

Casey sends the address to their driver and waits, their dress was now wet from their tears and it made them even more frustrated. Even though they wanted this date to end well, nothing does for them, they wonder why they got their hopes up from the beginning. The driver soon arrives, and when seeing the sight of Casey as they climb into the car she looks a little sad. She says quietly

 “There are tissues in the door, dear. And….your mother requested you change into the outfit she chose. It should be on the seat next to you.”

"Thank you." They whispered to the driver and wiped the tear stains from their face. They were glad they wore water-proof makeup or else their dress would be even more ruined. The dress their mother chose wasn't ugly, it was a fancy dress that they knew she made to suit her child, but they hated it because it didn't feel like theirs. It made them frustrated. They put it on anyway, knowing that they'd get in trouble if they didn't.

They arrive at the entrance of the Briar residence, Casey’s mother waiting impatiently. “You look lovely, dear.”

END.

[ragequitezekielrants]

Roblox is a fucking cesspool.

Alright, buckle up, folks, because today I’m going after something that’s long overdue for a bitter reckoning: Roblox. Oh, yes. That seemingly innocent, blocky, colorful “game” that’s managed to worm its way into millions of homes and has convinced parents everywhere that it’s just a harmless playground for kids. Well, newsflash: it’s a playground, alright—but more like a lawless, broken-down playground where the rusty equipment is swarming with child predators, scammers, and every form of exploitation you can imagine.

Let’s not beat around the bush here. At this point, Roblox has become notorious for its lack of safety and general incompetence when it comes to protecting its most vulnerable users—children. The whole platform is basically a predator’s dream come true. It’s filled with kids who think they’re just there to play games, make friends, and maybe create something cool, but what they’re really stepping into is a cesspool of shady characters, sketchy interactions, and outright dangerous situations.

You’ve got these creepy adults posing as kids, hanging around in chat rooms, private servers, and who knows where else, trying to manipulate and exploit young players. The amount of stories that have come out about predators luring kids into inappropriate conversations, or worse, is absolutely horrifying—and yet, Roblox seems to barely lift a finger to stop it. They’ll tell you they’re cracking down on inappropriate behavior, that they have moderation systems in place, but let’s be real: those systems are about as effective as a paper umbrella in a hurricane. The truth is, Roblox moderation is a joke, and it’s the kids who end up paying the price.

And don’t even get me started on chat filters. They’re supposed to stop harmful or inappropriate language, right? Well, they’re just as broken as everything else on this platform. Sure, they’ll block some random innocent word or phrase that makes zero sense, but somehow, explicit language and dangerous conversations slip through the cracks constantly. I’ve seen entire servers where the chat devolves into a cesspool of disgusting content, and guess what? Nothing happens. Roblox is either asleep at the wheel, or they just don’t care as long as the cash keeps rolling in.

And speaking of cash, let’s talk about the microtransactions and the insane way this platform preys on kids’ wallets. Roblox is filled to the brim with virtual items, cosmetic nonsense, and “limited-time offers” designed to get kids to spend real money—either their own or, more likely, their parents’ without permission. It’s a glorified scam economy designed to manipulate children into buying “Robux” for overpriced garbage that provides zero real value. I mean, come on, Roblox, your entire economy is basically built on exploiting kids’ impulse control issues. It’s honestly disgusting.

But it gets worse. You’ve got scammers lurking everywhere, creating shady games or offering “free Robux” in exchange for personal information or other tricks. You’d think after all these years of this nonsense happening, Roblox would have implemented better protection for their users. But nah—just let the predators and scammers roam free, right? What’s a few ruined childhoods compared to that sweet, sweet revenue stream?

Oh, and let’s not forget the exploitative developer environment. On the surface, Roblox loves to brag about how it’s a place for kids and teens to learn coding, make games, and express their creativity. That’s a nice story, sure, but the reality is far more sinister. A lot of these young developers are basically being lured into creating content that Roblox profits off of while paying them peanuts in return. The platform takes a huge cut of any revenue earned, leaving these kids with a fraction of what their hard work is actually worth. It’s like digital child labor disguised as “game development opportunities.”

The worst part? The exploitation of these kids doesn’t stop there. When they do manage to make something popular, they’re often thrust into the harsh reality of dealing with toxic communities, knock-off versions of their games, and harassment from other users. All while Roblox just sits back and counts the money, doing little to protect its young creators from the harsh realities of the internet.

And what does Roblox do about all this? Almost nothing. They issue vague statements about improving moderation, adding safety features, and protecting their user base. But guess what? The platform remains an absolute dumpster fire when it comes to protecting kids from predators, scammers, and exploitation. Their priority isn’t safety—it’s profits. They rake in billions while turning a blind eye to the fact that their platform has become a breeding ground for dangerous behavior.

So here’s the bottom line: Roblox might look like a fun, innocent game on the surface, but dig a little deeper, and it’s a digital wasteland full of predators, scammers, and greedy corporate tactics designed to take advantage of kids. It’s not just an unsafe environment; it’s an outright predatory one. If you’re a parent letting your kid run wild on Roblox without supervision, I hate to break it to you, but you’re basically letting them play in a minefield. And Roblox? Well, they’ll just keep cashing in, pretending everything’s fine, while the real dangers go unaddressed.

Until next time, keep your kids away from this nightmare of a platform.

– Ezekiel