#someone makes a douche comment on some post that's not even directed at you? block em

[mrv3000]

Building on the lack of algorithm: you curate your own experience.

Follow blogs that post stuff you like. Unfollow if you're no longer interested. Create your own happy bubble on your "Following" tab. I'm following over 300 blogs that give me plenty of stuff to look at all the time, none of which is sorted or filtered or otherwise algorithmed.

For any relocated TikTok users

you can say sex and kill its fine

If you don't have a profile picture people will assume you're a bot

theres barely an algorithm, if you want to see cool shit reblog things instead of just liking them

follower count doesnt matter

tumblr fame gets you one thing and it is Yelled At

no one knows what the fuck the nsfw policy is

block anyone that annoys you even a little bit

And most importantly:

post cringe

[loove-persevering]

I Can’t Take It (JJ x Reader)

Description: hii i love your writing!! could you maybe write for jj x reader where reader has an anxiety attack because of her parents treating her like trash or something? make it extra angsty pls

WARNINGS: ABUSE, SWEARING

 Growing up you were always thankful for the things you had, the advantages you were given, the effort your parents put into making your life as easy as possible. Those things were all appreciated but never asked for, and most importantly never expected. You never thought of yourself as better than anyone because you had money, hell it wasn’t even yours to begin with it was your parents. 

 You were a kook and sometimes you were even ashamed of that word. You grew up in a nice private school that your parents paid a pretty penny for and saw first hand what the effects money did on children when they had easy access to it. People would do drugs, impulsively buy things, spend the money as if it was their own and that was a bad spiral to go down. In all the years you went to school in kook territory you never found a single friend that was genuine, that wasn’t so caught up in the thought of money, drugs, and themselves. 

Then you met Kiara, who then introduced you to Pope, JJ, and John B. The most selfless people you knew, your best friends. The sad things was your parents didn’t know about them, you couldn’t bring them around the house because how they felt toward pogue kids. Especially kids like JJ who had a reputation for being a little reckless, even though you knew his recklessness mostly came from a place of defense. 

Your parents sadly were skeptical of kids that didn’t come from the same type of wealth you did, it scared them. So when you’d head out with your real friends they thought you were somewhere else, you had made up names of people so they would never actually call any real kooks. 

 You were at midsummers tonight with your parents dressed in the most beautiful dress you could think of but you were absolutely miserable. You managed to sneak a glass of champagne off a waiter without him noticing and you practically down the whole thing in one chug. You set the glass down on a table wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, ‘’Not very lady like,’’ You mother says to you forcing a smile. 

You immediately straighten up your hands pulling up the straps of your dress, you don’t need to say anything and you realize your father make his appearance right next to your mother, ‘’Were socialites why aren’t we socializing?’’ He asks through his smile. 

‘‘You’re daughter is being a handful as usual,’‘ Your mother says and you bite your lip trying to hold back your anger. 

‘‘Why don’t you go talk to your friends hunny,’‘ Your dad says gesturing over to Rafe and his friends, ‘‘Rafe’s always been a great kid, why don’t you go talk with him?’‘ Your dad says completely oblivious to the fact Rafe was not only doing hard drugs but a complete psychopath. You sigh making your way over to the group standing far enough away from them to remain off their radar. 

 You saw Pope from a distance helping out his dad and he offers you a kind smile from afar, it was nice to know you had at least one person that wasn’t a total douche around. You aimlessly try to avoid your parents the rest of the night and you eventually find yourself wandering around the halls of the house from the inside of the mansion midsummers was being held at. You were walking around a corner when a certain blonde haired boy runs into you, ‘’JJ,’’ You breath out a sigh of relief, ‘’You immediately embrace him in a hug, the last time you saw him he was in handcuffs but when you went back to the station later his bail had been posted. He doesn’t hug you back he just pulls away turning around panicked as if he was being chased. ‘’You’re face JJ,’’ You say reaching up to caress his cheek. 

He takes his hands gripping the sides of your arms, ‘’I need you to stall,’’ He says breathlessly, ‘’Just stall for me okay?’’ He says pointing at you rushing into the mens bathroom. You turn around completely unaware of who you were suppose to stall that was until Rafe rounds the corner with a bunch of his goons. 

‘‘Going somewhere?’‘ You say laughing, ‘‘Actually Rafe I’ve been looking for you,’‘ You say resting your arm against his bicep. ‘’You’re a hard guy to track down,’’ You say laughing lightly, he tries to move around you but you step in front of him blocking his way around. 

 ‘’Move,’’ He says to you pushing you out of his way and you fall slightly your heels not helping your balance at all. The rest of the guys rush past you and you sigh taking off your heels wanting nothing more than the aching pain in your feet to subside. You were just about to enter the mens restroom seeing why JJ was running when you hear your dads voice. 

‘‘Y/N!’‘ He voice seems to echo down the hallways. ‘’What the hell are you doing?’’ You hear him ask glancing from you to the mens restroom. ‘’Come on,’’ He says grabbing your arm pulling you back to the direction of the party. 

‘‘Can you just wait a minute-’‘ You protest but he only jerks you harder. 

‘‘They’re letting anybody into this party,’‘ He says rolling his eyes finally loosening his grip on your arm straightening his tie. ‘‘Why are you’re shoes off?’‘ He asks looking at you as if you were stupid. 

‘‘I just- my feet they were hurting and-’‘ You stutter trying to explain to him. 

‘‘Just put them back on,’‘ He says his face scrunched up in disgust his hand on the doorknob, he gives you a glare before stepping back out to the party. You sigh sitting down on a bench inside that was until you heard the once again another familiar voice echoing down the hallway. 

‘‘Look man I can walk myself out,’‘ You hear JJ tell the man in the suit. 

‘‘JJ?’‘ You call out, he glances up catching your gaze, ‘‘He’s my guest!’‘ You tell the man but he still aggressively pushes him out the door. You stand up from the bench following them out, ‘‘He’s my guest!’‘ You yell again now gaining the attention of the other midsummer guest. 

‘‘I got lets. Can you see that Brother?’‘ JJ asks gesturing to his feet but you still followed in pursuit. The man just keeps pushing him through the crowd JJ making snarky comments in hope to mostly likely gain some sympathy so he wasn’t being so man handled. You run behind him still trying to get the mans attention away from JJ. 

 JJ takes a swig of a drink still being pushed out the door, ‘’He’s my guest! I invited him!’’ You yell following from behind. 

‘‘Y/N!’‘ You hear your moms voice call out from behind you. Your father surely not far behind. You ignore her call and keep moving forward only a few feet from JJ. 

‘‘Let go of him! You can’t just boot him I invited him here.’‘ Kie yells out gaining the attention of those around her as well her parents protesting from behind her. ‘‘I’m a member of this club.’‘ She says. 

JJ pushes the man who had been escorting him away pointing up to Kie, ‘’Hey mandatory power hour at Rixon’s Kie, Y/N?’’ He says looking back at you gesturing out of the party. You glance back noticing your fathers tall demeanor making it’s way through the crowd no doubt pissed to catch you caught up in it all. You glance back to him for a moment then back to JJ, he holds out his hand winking at you and you couldn’t help but smile knowing the only way this night was going to end up somewhat decent was if you took his hand. 

 You reach out grabbing his hand and he smiles pulling you into his side for a hug, he spins you around and while doing so you catch a glimpse of your fathers face, utterly pissed was a good way to describe it. You took a big gulp slowly moving on past JJ wanting to put as much distance from you and your father as you possibly could. Kie followed in pursuit of JJ and so did Pope you all practically ran off Kook territory away from your parents, away from the guards, away from any responsibility you had to upkeep at the party. 

______________

When you arrived home later that night you had noticed all the lights off, John B was in the van JJ in the passenger seat. ‘’Good luck,’’ JJ says raising his hand giving you a salute. You smile trying to play it off but you knew all hell was about to break loose as soon as you enter your house. You walk up the back steps carefully your heels in your hand, the entrance to the kitchen was open thankfully and you slowly open the door trying to not make any sound. You make it inside successfully with out any loud sounds that could possibly wake your parents up, you let out a sigh of relief as you lock the door laying your heels next to the door carefully. 

 You walk through the hallway your foot upon the first step when you hear someone cough, you close your eyes knowing what was about to happen. ‘’What the hell was that tonight?’’ You hear your father ask. ‘’Who the hell were those people?’’ 

‘‘They were my friends,’‘ You tell him moving away from the steps so you were standing in front of the entry way of the living room. Your father turns on the lamp next to him and you wince at the sudden brightness. 

‘‘Your friends?’‘ He says letting out a merciful laugh, ‘‘I’ve never seen those people a day in my life, hell two of them were the help.’‘ He says. ‘’Since when do you hang out with those low lives?’’ He asks. 

‘‘Those low lives are the best people I’ve ever met,’‘ You tell him. ‘‘You don’t even know the half of it.’‘ You say rolling your eyes. 

‘‘I don’t know where this spunk of whatever the hell this is came from but it better be gone by the morning,’‘ He taunts, ‘‘Your mom was in distress the entire night, because of you.’‘

‘‘What if it’s not then?’‘ You ask him. ‘‘What if this is how I want to spend my time?’‘ You ask him. 

‘‘We give you everything!’‘ He screams not doubt waking your mom up. ‘‘We give you everything you could ever ask for and you want to run around with the damn help?’‘ He says. 

‘‘They’re my friends!’‘ You yell back finally raising your voice. 

‘‘Y/N?’‘ You hear your mother call out and you glance up noticing her at the top of the stairs in her robe. 

You glance back to your father who had gotten up from the chair making his way over to you only a few feet from you, ‘’You’re ungrateful,’’ He tells you. ‘’You don’t appreciate anything-’’ He begins to say. 

‘‘That’s a lie!’‘ You groan back at him. ‘’You two are so stuck up on this damn high horse you don’t even see that I am around people I like!’’ You tell him. ‘’You think they’re below us because they don’t have enough money?’’ 

‘‘I think they’re trouble, and obviously they’re a bad influence on you. I mean look how you’re acting! And for what?’‘ He says his hand waving around him. ‘‘That kid was getting pushed out that you were so over the moon to follow was in jail this morning, did you know that?’‘ He asks you. 

‘‘I did,’‘ You say simply. ‘’And for a good reason too.’’

‘‘You’re defending criminals now?’‘ He asks. 

‘‘I’m defending my friend,’‘ You tell him staring him straight into the eye, ‘‘My family,’‘ You clarify. 

‘‘Family?’‘ He says letting out a laugh. ‘‘You think those people are your family?’‘ He asks you. 

‘‘They’re more of a family than I’ve had in years.’‘ You spit out. Then all of a sudden it happened your hand instinctively reached up to cup your cheek where your fathers palm had just hit. You felt the tears in your eyes as you held your hand against your face. Your father had never hit you before, ever. You could hear your mother coming down the stairs but by the time she had gotten down you had made your way back down the hall and running out the back door. 

‘‘Y/N!’‘ You heard your mother yell from the door. You kept running, your body was at a high as if you were running on full adrenaline. Your knees felt weak as if they would give out any second but you could only hope they would get you where you wanted to go, the one place you felt like you needed to go. 

_______

Sometime later you arrived at John B’s house, you hadn’t even realized how much time had passed by the time you got there. You walk up to the window knocking on it gently a few times your hands were shaking you weren’t sure from if it was how cold you were or if it had something to do with the slight pressure in your chest. It takes a few knocks before you finally see the light turn on in the bedroom and a few seconds later the blinds fly up exposing JJ his hair a mess and his clothes all messed up from sleeping. 

He was rubbing his eye when he noticed your state, immediately waking him up. He holds up a finger to you and you nod your head watching him walk out the bedroom door, the light on the porch turns on and JJ comes stumbling out over to you. ‘’Hey, hey.’’ He says rushing over to you pulling you into a hug. You didn’t bother hugging him back you just stay still allowing him to embrace you. He pulls away slowly from you his hands gently touching the sides of your arms, ‘’What happened?’’ He asks. 

You open your mouth but the words fall short- JJ looks at you and you feel his hand come up wiping away the tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. ‘’I just-’’ You start but can’t finish and you feel your self gasp for air slightly. JJ wraps his arms around you pulling you into his body the warmth felt good on your cold skin. 

‘‘You’re freezing,’‘ He says, ‘‘Come on.’‘ He says guiding you inside. 

‘‘Woah,’‘ John B says coming out of his room noticing you. 

‘‘I got her,’‘ JJ says to him and John B just stares and watches. ‘‘Give me a minute alright?’‘ He says walking you into his room and you take a seat on his bed. He wraps his blanket around you and tells you he will be right back and when he leaves you could hear him and John B outside the door. 

‘‘What happened?’‘ John B asks. 

‘‘I don’t know she just showed up here like that, fuck.’‘ He sighs. 

‘‘Did you uh-’‘ John B pauses, ‘‘Did you see her cheek?’‘ He asks. 

You don’t hear an answer to that, but a few moments later JJ comes barging back in the room which makes you jump a little, ‘’Sorry,’’ He says shutting the door with his foot and making his way over to the bed. ‘’Can you tell me what happened?’’ You close your eyes shut forcefully shaking your head, ‘’Alright, alright.’’ He sighs. 

You let out a shaken breath before you look up at JJ concern was written all over his face, ‘’My dad,’’ You sigh. ‘’He just-’’ You try to explain once again but fall short. 

‘‘Hey you don’t have to talk,’‘ He tells you wrapping his arm around you. ‘‘You don’t have to say anything,’‘ He tells you. ‘‘You’re safe here.’‘ 

‘‘That’s why I came here,’‘ You tell him looking up offering him a small smile. ‘‘Could I borrow some clothes?’‘ You ask him quietly not wanting to bother him more than you already had. 

‘‘Oh yeah,’‘ He says standing up from the bed. He rummages through his drawers and finally hands you a t-shirt of his and some basketball shorts. ‘‘I’ll just step outside-,’‘ He says awkwardly making his way over to the door shutting it. 

After you had finished changing you walk over to the door slowly opening it and JJ turns around his face still laced with panic, he looked relieved when he saw you weren’t still crying. ‘’I’m done- you can come back in now.’’ You let him know. He nods his head opening the door more, you watch as he grabs a pillow of the bed and a blanket, ‘’JJ?’’

‘‘Yeah?’‘ He turns around to face you immediately. 

‘‘Could you stay with me?’‘ You ask him, ‘‘If you don’t want to that’s fine I just-’‘ You begin to say but he cuts you off. 

‘‘Y/N, of course.’‘ He says offering you a small smile. You smile back at him making your way onto his bed and he goes to turn out the light and you feel him slowly crawl into bed next to you. 

‘‘Thank you,’‘ You tell him finally feeling calm enough to talk. ‘‘I was scared you wouldn’t answer,’‘ You let out a small laugh. 

‘‘I’ll always answer for you,’‘ He lets you know. ‘‘Did your dad hit you?’‘ He asks. 

‘‘Yes,’‘ You answer immediately and you hear him take in a deep breath. ‘‘He’s never done it before,’‘ You let him know. ‘‘It was the heat of the moment, I was just pushing him and-’‘ You let him know not really sure as to why you were defending your dad. 

‘‘Nobody should ever hit their kid,’‘ He says simply. ‘‘Especially you.’‘ He says. 

‘‘I don’t know if I can go home, face him again I mean.’‘ You admit to him. ‘‘This feels more like home than any other place,’‘ You tell him. ‘‘You feel like home too,’‘ You tell him. 

‘‘Me?’‘ He asks shifting in the bed on his side so now he was looking at you. He had one hand under the pillow and the other resting on his side. 

‘‘Yeah, you feel like home. You make me feel safe.’‘ You tell him offering him a smile. And although you couldn’t see him fully you could tell he was smiling too. 

_____________

A/N: 

I LOVE ME A SOFT JJ FLUFF EVEN THOUGH THE BEGINNING WAS TENSE 

THANKS FOR SENDING IN THIS REQUEST!

[author-mandi-bean]

I took just a smidge more than a week off because my three nephews were visiting, and they are considerably more than a handful. The oldest just turned 9, the middle one is 6, and the youngest is 3. My sister is something of a saint, no? I foolishly thought I’d have time to update during their visit, but I’m happy to report that I was SO wrong and spent every moment I could with my three favorite gentlemen.

I am also super happy to report that The Charlotte Gusay Literary Agency requested a full manuscript. I shared the news on my Facebook page, and someone commented, “No. They sent me the same letter. They want money,” or something to that effect. I did some research and it seems they do ask for $35, which is not something literary agents typically do. However, the latest incident reported was five years ago and $35 seems a small fee if the agency likes my manuscript and wishes to work with me. I wonder how much of the online reporting is reliable, and how much of it is colored by pissed off people who never made it.

No reward without the risk, right? That being said, I sent an email – which I now regret – inquiring about the “fee.” I hope they don’t think I’m a jerk, unprofessional, or unwilling to pursue this offer. I act impulsively most of the time, which has mostly proved problematic and left me with more than a handful regrets. But that’s not an invitation to a pity party; only a smooth segue to this week’s blog post.

Enjoy! Read. Comment. Share.

WEEKLY WRITING PROMPT #4.2017: “He’s attractive, he’s funny, he’s rich. Why am I not interested?”

The leather couch looked fancy as hell. It was made of brown tufted leather, the upholstery buttons had a warm golden finish, and the actual shape of the couch was kind of urban and retro. It did not scream comfort so much as it did elegance, so it was exactly the kind of couch one would picture being in a reputable yet chic therapist’s office. The couch perfectly matched the mahogany desk and bookshelves and everything was just so bourgeois and it made Gemma feel worse.

When she had stretched out along the sofa, the leather groaned and drew more attention to itself than Gemma had wanted. She knew, just knew, that Dr. Hoffmann was appraising her cheap cotton shirts and plain cotton tee-shirt, sizing her up to be something worse than what she was (if that was even possible). Gemma should have dressed for the occasion, but what does one wear to their second therapist appointment? She didn’t know; she didn’t know anything, really. And the only instruction Dr. Hoffmann had given was to talk. But what should she talk about? She had chewed her bottom lip for a minute or two in agonizing silence before Dr. Hoffmann finally offered some direction: “How’s the love life?”

Gemma barked a laugh, a masculine guffaw that she immediately regretted, that embarrassed her. She covered her burning face with her hands and apologized. Gently, Dr. Hoffmann reminded her that she had nothing to apologize for and asked about that interesting, swift response. “It’s been complicated,” Gemma said. She slid her hands down her face, stretching the skin and smearing her makeup. “I had my heart broken or whatever – I mean, I guess it was pretty traumatic – but there’s this new guy now. He’s attractive, he’s funny, he’s rich.” Gemma groaned. “Why am I not interested?”

“Well, I think the answer to that question is fairly obvious, don’t you?”

Gemma bolted upright. It wasn’t Dr. Hoffmann’s voice that had asked the question, but someone else. It was someone she had never ever wanted to see again, and someone she hoped she bumped into randomly every day. It was strong but melodic, unremarkable but wonderful, full of contradictions just like its owner, who had been so beautiful and awful all at once. Slowly, like a B-actress in the climax of a fairly predictable horror movie, she turned her neck to the side and saw him sitting in the chair, looking as handsome and smug as ever. It was the heart breaker himself, Jax.

His real name was Ajax; his terribly pretentious parents had actually named him after a Greek god, and its meaning was “powerful eagle,” or something equally as absurd when not living in Ancient Greece. Maybe it wasn’t Jax’s fault he was a complete and total douche bag but more a fulfillment of destiny. How could a guy be anything but a twat waffle with a name like that? His future of seersucker pants and canvas boat shoes had been inescapable. And Gemma had fallen for it, had fallen for it hard.

Gemma was furious and wanted nothing more than to leap to her feet in a manner that exuded that anger and some confidence and she wanted to be intimidating. But her thighs ripping from the leather and the way the leather groaned whenever she made the slightest movement made the whole thing unimpressive and lame. “You can’t be here. This isn’t possible.”

“And yet here I am,” Jax grinned, showing a quick flash of teeth before he smoothed his countenance into something so forced and serious it was comical. “Now, I’d really like to discuss this lack of interest in a suitable partner.” He wasn’t in his usual attire. He was wearing a tailored three-piece suit and looked every bit the medical professional. He even crossed one leg over the other, mindful of the fabric and of creating any unseemly creases.

“Go to hell,” Gemma said. “That’s none of your business. You need to leave.” She surveyed the room quickly. “How’d you even get in here?”

Jax rolled his eyes and his tone was impatient. “You brought me, obviously.”

Gemma shut her eyes tight and shook her head. This didn’t make sense, couldn’t actually be happening, and she had to come back to reality. “I need to find Dr. Hoffmann.” She opened her eyes and headed towards the door. Gracefully, Jax moved to block her exit.

“Then what? You get someone to come in here and find that I’m gone? Or that Dr. Hoffmann’s been here the whole time? They’ll send you to a psychiatrist and you’ll spend most of your remaining days heavily sedated.” Jax smiled sadly. “Imagine the damper that’ll put on your social life.”

“So what is this? Why are you here?”

“You tell me.”

Gemma gritted her teeth. “Don’t act like you’re a therapist and just tell -”

“No, no, I’m serious,” Jax interrupted. “Believe me; I am not here of my own free will. You brought me here to deal with me.”

“Deal with you? I’m so done with you, Jax,” Gemma growled. She pushed past him and returned to the couch. She also returned to her prostrate position and returned to the idea that if she closed her eyes real tight and then opened them, this would all go away.

“That’s obviously inaccurate. If it were true, you could have talked about me to Dr. Hoffmann no problem, but you tried to gloss it over and now here I am,” Jax said. “And you won’t look at me. And you can’t date anyone else.”

“That’s not true,” Gemma shouted. Her eyes popped open and she turned to look at Jax. “I didn’t avoid discussing you, I just didn’t know what to talk about. And I think it’s perfectly normal for me to not relive every single disappointment with you.”

“I was disappointing?” Jax asked, surprised.

Gemma rolled her eyes and looked at the ceiling. “What would you call it when you think you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone and they just slowly phase you out? You stopped hanging out, you stopped calling and texting; it just ended.”

“You wanted to spend the rest of your life with me?” Jax asked, touched.

Gemma didn’t answer. She continued staring at the ceiling.

“If that’s true, you didn’t fight very hard.”

“Seriously?” Gemma challenged. She sat up. “Danielle always says that if a guy wants to spend time with you, he will.”

“Oh, and Danielle knows me really well, does she? She knows all the intricacies of our relationship?”

Gemma faltered. “No, but -”

“It can’t be all on me all the time, Gemma. Was I an asshole? Absolutely. You knew I was an asshole from the beginning though, to be fair.” Gemma was about to protest but Jax continued. “But you kept me from being an asshole and I helped you be a little bit more of an asshole. That’s why we worked. You made me a more thoughtful man and I helped you be less of a doormat.”

“Why did we stop working?”

Jax looked away and shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s probably a conversation we should have though, isn’t it?”

“Yes, definitely,” Gemma said.

And Jax was gone. She was looking at a terribly confused Dr. Hoffmann. “Excuse me, Gemma? I asked you why you laughed.”

Slowly, Gemma sat up. “What?”

Patiently, Dr. Hoffmann leaned forward and said, “When I asked you about your love life, you laughed. And then I asked you why you laughed, and you told me, ‘Yes, definitely.’ I’m just confused.”

Gemma laughed. “Me too, Doc. Or at least I was.” She looked around the room. “Do you think I could step out a moment? I just need to make a quick phone call.”

Is laughter really the best medicine? How do we self-medicate? Read "On therapy and leather." I took just a smidge more than a week off because my three nephews were visiting, and they are considerably more than a handful.