t-hollands-bitch

[t-hollands-bitch]

People have it worse than me. Here I am

Just found out I can't take the bar exam until fall 2021.

I fucking hate this.

I know there is so much more going on. What a privileged thing to whine about.

People have it worse than me.

I am drowning in my depression and the only thing I had was the security of this fucking bar exam. Now I have to wait for another year and a couple of months.

I can't learn at home. All those amazing studyblr accounts on here can do this shit but I fucking can't. The uni library was my save haven.

It's been 4 months.

People have it so much worse and here I am complaining.

Posts with 10.000 reblogs and thousands of followers and I can't even get myself to post. I am failing you. I am failing at life.

People have it worse than me.

I am trying so hard and I just can't do it. This was my dream and here I sit. It's 2 am. I am slightly drunk on a Wednesday night. Sitting out on my street because I don't want to go home.

People have it worse than me.

I have so many people who love me. Who support me. I still feel like shit. Sadness turns into emptiness and yeah I get it now, I too miss the comfort of being sad.

People have it worse than me.

Still here I am complaining while people are out there dying because of their skin color. I didn't even post about it on this blog. Got a platform and I don't even use it. Pathetic.

People have it worse than me.

I don't even wanna die. I just want to be happy again. How pathetic. Can't even do depression right. I am a disappointment to everyone. The girl with the high IQ. The girl who graduated with honors at 17. High hopes for the future.

People have it worse than me.

Why is this sadness aesthetic when you're 17 but once you're 23 you're a failure? Why did everyone move on? Why do I still dream about my youth while I'm still young? How come everyone has figured their life out and I'm still sitting here?

Shut the fuck up.

People have it worse than you.

Why do I feel so empty? Why can't I get out of bed in the morning? I did everything that people told me would apparently make me happy again. I went to therapy for years. I tried. Why do I still feel this way. Why am I so scared of dying when I can't even live.

People have it worse than me.

I will wake up again tomorrow. I should feel lucky to have all those opportunities. I am so grateful for everything. I should be. I better be. I will try again. But I know I will sit here again. This feeling won't go away. Maybe I will finally get a call back and can get help again. Maybe I will feel better tomorrow. The same thing I tell myself every night.

People have it worse than me.

I will try again tomorrow .

[t-hollands-bitch]

SHUT THR FUCK UPPPPPPPSPSKSLSDLDODMFMFLDDLWL

[t-hollands-bitch]

Ot4 today: I love you ❤️

Zayn:

[t-hollands-bitch]

For all My starker shippers, this AU is soooo good!!!! Read!!!!

Starker au >> My Best Friends Dad Pt.1 

(Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4)

—–

Peter is home for the summer, back from his first year away at college. He loves his school, but he’d missed his own room and his small hometown, missed his aunt, and especially his best friend, Harley.

Friends since they met in high school, they parted ways when Peter moved for college and Harley stayed to become an apprentice mechanic for his dad. They’d been inseparable before and he’s glad to find little has changed.

With the summer ahead of them, Peter finds himself spending more and more time at Harley’s place, fixing up old cars, using the space of the big house and bigger yard to host get togethers with their old friends, playing ball or video games and gorging themselves on the perpetually full pantry in the Stark household.

Reuniting with his best friend also meant with Harleys’ dad, who Peter may or may not have had a small crush on since they met. After not seeing him for almost a year Peter would have thought his schoolboy crush had dwindled, but if anything else the passage of time and the maturity he’s gained has only made it worse.

Way worse.

It’s not Peters fault that he’s a helpless bisexual and that Mr. Stark - call me Tony - is a hot, single, forty-something with strong hands and a smile to die for. He’s only human, he can’t be blamed for finding a built older man, usually covered in grease and sweat with low hanging jeans attractive.

Keep reading

[t-hollands-bitch]

So fucking good! Babe I need a follow up to this one 🥵🥵🥵

WHAT IF Tony accidentally sends a nude to Peter with a reeeeally dirty text to go along with it…

Tony: Hey baby, wanna spread your legs wide apart and tie them to the bed so you’re all open and waiting for me, then I’m gonna pound you so hard you’ll forget your own name 😏

He meant to send it to Pepper but he’s been drinking and their names look so alike and they’re right next to each other on his contact list…

aaaand Peter goes right ahead and sends one back with an equally dirty text to go with it

Peter: Mm yes daddy, please fill me up with your massive cock and make me scream 😉

Tony’s like “oh shit” because some part of him knows it’s wrong - he’s in a relationship, he’s 30 years older than Peter and Peter’s only a teenager…

But he cant stop staring at the picture Peter sent and he can’t stop re-reading the text. He knows there’s no way he can’t reply and he also knows he’s going to hell.

Because holy shit, Tony thinks, I’m attracted to Peter Parker.

[t-hollands-bitch]

The Backstreet Boys performing I Want It That Way together from each of their homes is exactly what I needed today.

[t-hollands-bitch]

Reblog for Good luck🙏🏼

[t-hollands-bitch]

peter: FOUR MONTHS!

tony: what?

peter: THATS HOW LONG YOU STOOD BY AND WATCHED ME WATER A FAKE PLANT

[t-hollands-bitch]

It’s 5:52 am and I can’t stop thinking about Peter taking care of touchstarved!Tony.

Because yes, Tony does leave a lot of parties and meetings and press conferences with a pretty lady (and occasionally a pretty man). But when Peter moves in with him during his training, he realises how little love any of these people had for him. None of those people rub his shoulders like Peter does after a rough training session, careful not to hurt him. None of them hug him goodnight like they won’t be grinning at him 9 hours later, milk on their upper lip and hair tousled. None of them rest their head on his shoulder while watching a sad movie together (Tony swears he didn’t cry during Titanic, but that doesn’t stop Peter from tenderly wiping away the tears. “If you ever tell anyone about this I will—“ “I won’t. Tony, I won’t.”) None of them hold his hand when he has to get stitches because he cracked his head open in a fight again, knowing that even though he’s fought the most scary monsters and serial killers the universe has to offer, he’s still incredibly afraid of needles. None of them gently cradle his cheek with one hand, like he’ll break any second, while the other wipes the blood from his face and lingers a bit too long on his lips. None of them fall asleep with their head in his lap, making it impossible for him to get another drink (or ten for that matter). None of them touch him like Peter does and slowly Tony learns about how physical contact doesn’t have to be sexual, how much warmth and love can be contained in a simple brush of a knuckle against his cheek or fingers being entwined with his.

[t-hollands-bitch]

So we all know that Tom Holland has to wear a thong under the Spiderman suit.

But imagine this

Peter buys himself an Iron Man thong and feels really naughty about it, and he only ever wears it at home. But one day he’s feeling particularly naughty and wears it under his suit. This happens to be the day of the ferry incident. He’s so worked up and emotional and Tony’s mad at him and wants the suit back and Peter literally forgets he’s wearing it. All he hears is “I’m gonna need the suit back” and he’s aware of himself arguing back but he knows Tony’s going to get his way so he just absent-mindedly takes it off there and then.

Tony’s like “you didn’t have to take it off right this second...” and trails off as he notices the Iron Man thong. It takes Peter a moment to realise what Tony’s gawking at and he instantly goes into panick mode.

“IT WAS A GIFT!” he blurts out. “FROM MAY. SHE THINKS I’M STILL YOUR BIGGEST FAN LIKE I WAS WHEN I WAS TEN!”

Tony raises his eyebrow, trying not to laugh even though he’s still mad.

“NOT THAT I’M NOT YOUR FAN, BECAUSE I AM! YOU’RE MY FAVOURITE! SUPERHERO, I MEAN. I’M NOT OBSESSED WITH YOU.”

“Your aunt bought you a thong as a gift?”

“OMG SHE’S CRAZY ISN’T SHE? HAHAHA” *nervous sweating*

“I suppose you have an explanation for the boner too?”

“The cold makes that happen?”

“It’s summer.”

“It’s FREEZING Mr Stark!”

“I see sweat on your forehead”

“That’s tears.”

“On your forehead?”

“Wow then it must be raining or something, CRAZY New York weather!”

.....

...........

Awkward silence continues......

........

Peter regrets all life choices....

.....

............

“Put the suit back on, jeez, we’ll find you something to wear”

“Yes daddy, I mean Sir, I mean... shit.”

[t-hollands-bitch]

I loved this😭🥰

“never gonna hold the hand of another guy

too young for him they told her

waitin’ for the love of a travelin’ soldier

our love will never end

waitin’ for the soldier to come back again

never more to be alone when the letter said,

a soldier’s coming home”

——————

My Dearest Peter,

It’s hell out here. It fucking sucks, and I hate it, but I don’t think I could bear trying to tell you what’s going on. I miss you so so so much. Everyday I have to wake up without you in my arms, in a hole in the ground. I miss you. Have I said that already? I swear there’s a piece of my heart missing where you should be. When I get home, you want to go to that bar near 23rd? I miss my dancing partner. I love you, darlin, and I pray that I’ll be able to see you again.

Yours,

Bucky

[t-hollands-bitch]

So so so good😍😍

Peter is the owner of a lovely little Coffee Shop and famous billionaire/ironman tony stark is his regular costumer.

Oooh man I went lowkey wild with this one I love coffeeshop AUs. Hope you enjoy c:

——————————————————————————————

The very first time he comes in everybody recognizes him immediately. It’s busy with people coming and going trying to get their caffeine fix before work, and although most of the people’s eyes are on their phones, he doesn’t go unnoticed, and whispers start up before he can even make it to the counter.

Peter is helping out front to get through the initial morning rush hour, working the till with a beaming smile, but because he’s busy punching in orders he doesn’t see him until he’s right in front of him.

Their eyes meet, and it’s as if the both of them are taken aback for a second, before Peter can flash him a warm smile and asks him what he can do for him.

He doesn’t stick around for very long, and Peter figures he’s in a hurry to get out, even if it’s possible he didn’t necessarily have anywhere to be. Peter wouldn’t want to stay in a crowded coffee shop where everyone is staring at you and whispering behind their hands and probably taking sneaky pictures over their toffee nut lattes.

The morning staff doesn’t stop talking about it until they leave their aprons in the backroom for the afternoon workers. And even then the gossip passes on to those starting their shift late.

And, in all honesty, Peter feels a little proud.

He knows that it’s probably a coincidence that the Tony Stark came into his shop, and he’s aware that it doesn’t say anything about his management or his products or the atmosphere in his shop until someone actually starts to come back regularly, but still. It’s like he’s been visited personally. By a celebrity!

Peter hopes that he’ll find his way back to his café some time, but he also feels like the chances of that are pretty slim. About as slim as the chance was that Tony Stark would one day walk into his shop and order one of his coffees from a blend he’d so carefully selected and perfected and maybe even think, by the time he takes his last sip; ‘huh, that was pretty good coffee’.

  When Mr. Stark shows up again a few days later, Peter starts to think that maybe the odds were in his favor after all, and the chances of all of that weren’t as slim as he thought.

MJ is at the till and Peter is in the back when Tony gives his order, and since it’s past the morning rush and it’s now a lot quieter, MJ is also the one to make him his coffee.

Peter has just loaded up a tray with freshly baked triple chocolate chip cookies and steps out into the shop behind the counter, setting the tray down to slide it into the glass display case. When he looks up and notices the familiar man on the other side of the counter waiting for his order, he smiles at him.

“Good morning Mr. Stark,” he greets him pleasantly, and the man looks up as if shaken from his thoughts, and one corner of his mouth ticks up when he sees Peter.

“Hi. Morning. Are those made in house?” He points at the tray of cookies with the pair of sunglasses in his hand that probably cost more than Peter’s rent.

“Sure are. Just in the back.”

Peter likes it that way. They bake whatever they can in the shop so that it always smells like something fresh. They started doing that just with the cookies, but the more customers came up to the staff complimenting them on the smell, the more they strived to put out homemade products. Now, depending on the time of day you come in, you’re met with new scents every time. In the morning it’s usually the pastries and cookies, the latter of which need to be refilled when the morning rush has gone. Then in the afternoon, the pies are prepared to be baked at night, and Peter will usually throw a tray of brownies in the oven, and cakes depending on how many slices have been sold. Then toward closing time Peter finishes up with the pies, and prepares several batches of cookie dough.

It’s a lot of work throughout the day, and they’re constantly busy, but it’s rewarding when someone specifically asks for Peter, and compliments him on his products.

Thankfully he has great staff that help him day in and day out, so he’s never left to do the work alone. Without them by his side Peter probably would never have been able to fulfill his dream.

Tony’s coffee is done, and he puts his sunglasses on before he picks up the cup.

“Smells great,” he says, and Peter has to fan himself with his oven mitt when the other man is safely out of the door and down the street.

“Smells great,” he mimics to MJ, who just fondly rolls her eyes at him.

  After that, Peter is hopeful that he’ll come around again. At some point. There’s no pattern in when he’ll show up, but Peter is almost always there anyway, so when Tony makes another appearance he’s right there once again.

It seems that Mr. Stark is slowly finding out what times are safe for him to drop by, because it’s quieter again, a little later in the afternoon and after the lunch crowd has come and gone. Peter is working the front while newbie Harry is sweeping tables.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Stark,” Peter greets him pleasantly.

“Hi,” Tony takes off his sunglasses and peers at his nameplate, “Peter. I’ll have your finest Americano please. Just a medium.”

“House blend?”

“Yessir.”

Peter picks up a cup and writes the man’s name on it, sneaking in a little heart instead of the O of his name. Can’t hurt, can it? He probably gets those kinds of things all the time.

“So are you the Peter that owns this place or do you just so happen to be a random Peter coincidentally working at Peter…Peco… I’m sorry what’s this place called again?”

“Petercolator,” Peter explains with a grin as he punches in Tony’s order and gives him his total, “It’s from the word percolator, which is an old type of coffeemaker.”

Tony hums thoughtfully as he drops his change into the tip jar.

“Oh—and to answer your question, I suppose I am the Peter from Petercolator, yes. Not just a Random Peter. Although maybe I should look into hiring more Peters. Really make it our trademark.”

“Go for it. Really lean into it.”

Peter slides Tony’s cup of coffee across the counter and chuckles.

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for any applicants called Peter.”

“You do that.“ Tony flashes him an actual, honest-to-god wink, “See you later, Petercolator.”

Peter watches as he leaves. No one is ever going to believe that Tony Stark just said that to him.

  Peter falls ill with a cold and has to stay home for a few days. He doesn’t want to infect anyone else and he definitely doesn’t trust himself around the food when he’s all sniffly and sneezy. He keeps in close contact with MJ, one of the managers who makes sure everything runs smoothly when the owner is away, and gets two texts he’s not sure he believes during the week that he’s at home.

One reads that Tony Stark came by the shop and asked for him, curious if he was in the back, or…? MJ gladly informs Peter that she’s convinced Tony looked disappointed when she told him Peter was sick.

The second one explains how Tony came by another couple of days later, and asked how Peter was doing, if he was feeling better yet.

MJ knows that Peter has had a crush on the man since he was little, and Peter is convinced that she’s just using that knowledge against him now, teasing him when there is nothing he can do about it. She’s just feeding into his obsession. Probably trying to get back at him for all the times he’s put her on the early shift.

  When he gets back he jumps right back into the middle of things. He’s still recovering from his cold and therefore gets tired pretty easily, so he lets his colleagues handle things in the front while he keeps to himself in the back, working through batches of whatever it is they need. He’ll make it a short day, stay as long as he can, and then he’ll go home to rest again. The evening shifts aren’t usually as busy as the morning ones anyway.

He’s just restocked their display with a load of seasonal apple cinnamon muffins, crouched down to be able to reach the lower trays, when a face pops up on the other side of the glass that says; “You’re back.” Peter nearly startles and sends the last muffin tumbling to the ground, but he catches it in time. Unfortunately, he catches it a little too firmly, and his thumb is pressed right through the middle, stuck in the gooey apple filling of the muffin.

He pulls a face but smiles when he straightens up and looks at Tony on the other side of the counter between them, who has the decency to look sheepish a little, at least.

“I’ll pay for that,” he offers, gesturing to the muffin.

“Why?” Peter asks, sounding amused, “Are you going to eat it?”

Tony seems to calculate his next move, before stretching his hand out over the counter, wiggling his fingers at Peter. Peter doesn’t quite believe him, shakes his head just a touch, but when Tony wiggles his fingers more insistently again he can’t do anything but slowly put the muffin down into the other man’s waiting palm, extracting his thumb almost pointedly at the last moment.

Peter’s thumb comes away sticky and covered in cinnamon and the muffin has never looked more unappealing, but Tony Stark sets his cup of coffee down to free up his other hand, and casually peels off the paper muffin cup, calculates his angle for a moment, and then takes a big bite.

Peter watches with something of a muted horror, his jaw slack and mouth open as if he’s halfway to saying something but has changed his mind at the last second.

“Mhm. Not bad,” Tony says when he’s swallowed his bite. There’s crumbs on his lips and Peter wishes he could look away as the man licks them off. “How much do I owe you?”

Peter gives an exasperated chuckle. “It’s on the house, sir.”

“Huh. How generous. Anyway, I just wanted to say I missed you.”

“…You missed me?”

“Yeah, I missed you. You were gone, right? Sick.”

“Oh! Yes, yes I was. For a few days.” Peter is too dumbstruck to be able to really say anything else. MJ had been telling the truth? He almost can’t believe it. Not that she doesn’t always tell the truth but she sure has a way of making things out to be better than they are sometimes. She is just about as good at that as she is at making things out to be far worse than they really are. Or at pretending that everything is fine when everything clearly isn’t. It’s a gift, honestly.

“Right, well. Glad you’re feeling better.” Tony reaches for his coffee again, and lifts the hand with the disastrous-looking muffin as if in greeting, “Thanks for breakfast.” And then he walks out again, leaving Peter with a feeling like something equal parts wonderful and bizarre just happened.

  Occasionally, Tony comes in and sits down. He’s usually busy, Peter assumes, with work and being a billionaire and everything. Peter can’t imagine what that must be like.

But sometimes Tony comes in and sits down, and those are honestly pretty wonderful days. He drinks his coffee from one of the many cute mugs Peter has acquired for the shop, reads the paper, or taps away at his phone. He only sits down when it’s really quiet though.

It makes Peter wonder if sitting down in his shop is the only moment of reprieve he gets in his busy life, or if he has time to find peace elsewhere, too. He kind of hopes so. Peter is heavily biased though.

MJ teases him about it more and more. Ned is in on it as well now, which means he practically never gets a moment of rest, because if MJ isn’t in then Ned usually is. It’s like they plan it that way, to keep Peter perpetually tortured – even though that’s not possible because it’s Liz who makes the schedules.

Unless Liz is in on it…

It’s nice to be able to see Tony sitting down and enjoying his mid-morning coffee, or his afternoon fix, or occasionally his nightly dose just before they close up shop.

Peter also notices a pattern that when he’s baking another tray of brownies, Tony usually sticks his nose into the air while he’s in line, and then decides to have his order in.

He has no idea if it has anything to do with each other, because Tony never actually buys a brownie, but he can’t help but wonder.

Ned and MJ are convinced that whenever Peter’s not looking, Tony is keeping an eye on him. Naturally, Peter doesn’t believe it, although sometimes he’ll think he catches him looking when he peers over his shoulder or peeks through his lashes. It’s silly of course, because someone like Tony would never even notice someone like Peter, and yet it makes Peter feel warm in a way no one has in a very long time.

  It’s about an hour from closing time when Tony has been sitting in his usual spot, nursing his usual coffee, and MJ corners Peter before he can go out and take stock of their inventory for the night.

“You need to go give him a brownie,” MJ says urgently, as if they’re talking about a matter of life and death, not chocolate cake.

“What?” Peter asks confusedly.

“You need to go give him a brownie, on the house, and write your phone number on the napkin.”

Peter shakes his head vehemently when he realizes what MJ is trying to do. “No. Nuh-uh. Not happening.”

“Peter,” MJ groans, “If you don’t do it then I will, but if I bring it he might think it’s my number on there. You have to do it. Now’s the perfect chance. We’re literally empty, you’ve been drooling over him for ages, I’m pretty sure he comes in just to see you…”

Peter shakes his head again.

“Fine, then I’ll do it. I’ll just tell him it’s yours, and that you’re too much of a coward to come onto him even though he’s clearly been coming onto you in his own…peculiar way.” MJ has a look in her eyes that tells Peter she’s dead serious. So now he has two options; he can either do it himself, or MJ can do it for him. Either way, Tony Stark is going to end up with Peter Parker’s phone number alongside a freshly baked brownie, and he might never come visit Petercolator again.

MJ follows him closely as he goes to grab a napkin and reluctantly writes down his cell on one corner, as if she doesn’t trust him to do this himself. Granted, if MJ wasn’t watching him so closely he would probably find a way out of this. Peter scoops up a brownie square from a cooling rack and places it on the napkin next to the phone number, then he deposits both onto a small plate.

His heart beats furiously in his chest as MJ physically pushes him toward the door into the shop. Tony’s still sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of the room the furthest away from the windows, looking intently at his phone.

“What if I accidentally interrupt something important?” Peter whispers.

“He’ll probably think you’re just as important. Now hurry up, I wanna go home.” She hisses back, and gives him another push.

Peter nearly stumbles over the threshold. It catches Tony’s attention, and for a moment they just look at each other. Peter flashes a quick smile, which the other man returns.

Shit. Okay. Now or never.

Peter approaches his table and puts down the brownie in front of Tony, who looks up from where his gaze had gone back to the phone for a minute, gaze inquisitive.

“It’s on us. They came out of the oven when you walked in, so they’re still warm. I thought you… Well you seem to always like the smell, so… Um. Enjoy, Mr. Stark.”

Peter hurries back and all but dives into the backroom, eager to be out of Tony’s direct line of sight. He takes a deep breath and gives MJ’s proud smirk an unimpressed look.

“I’m putting you on startup shift for the rest of the week,” he says when his heart has stopped beating like it’s trying to break out of his chest.

“Hey!”

Peter won’t listen to her protests.

  He refuses to come out of the backroom again until Tony is gone, afraid to meet his gaze and recognize that he’s found Peter’s phone number and that he doesn’t know what to do with it or doesn’t want to do anything with it.

They close up shop and Peter clears out Tony’s table, taking his empty cup of coffee and the empty plate, belatedly noting that not only the brownie is gone, but the napkin as well.

He tries not to think about it.

Tony Stark has his phone number but he tries not to even acknowledge that fact.

MJ leaves a little early when all her chores are done, and Peter does his last rounds, turning off the lights and activating the alarm before he steps out onto the street and locks the door behind him. As he turns the key he wonders if he’ll ever see Tony again after this. He wouldn’t be surprised if he never showed his face again.

His phone buzzes, and he tucks his keys away before he reaches for it, wrapping his scarf a little tighter around his neck.

He has a text from an unknown number.

Peter nearly forgets how to breathe for a moment.

I think it’s time I pay you back for all those complimentary snacks. How’s dinner sound? I know just the place.

Signed:

Tony Stark.

[t-hollands-bitch]

Tom Holland with a full beard. That’s it. That’s the post.

Found this on Twitter so credit goes to them.

Tagging a few friends cuz you need to see this:

@glowunderthemoon @worldoftom @angel-spidey @farfromhaz @thinkoutsidethebex @allegra-writes @peeterparkr @heyhihellowhatsup0 @spideyyeet

[t-hollands-bitch]

[t-hollands-bitch]

And the Sunshine Shinin’

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Warnings: stripper!Tony, smut Notes: I used @modest-demon‘s artwork as inspiration for this one. If you want the full effect, take a peak at it here before you read through this :D Summary:

Tony Stark is a notorious stripper going by the name Iron Man. The further he gets into his career, the more behind the scenes he becomes until he’s only working private jobs. Peter Parker hires Iron Man for MJ’s bachelorette party and sexy stripper Tony Stark dances his little heart out. Little does Peter know that Tony Stark is Morgan Barnes-Rogers’s Uncle Tony. Things get interesting when he walks with her into Peter’s kindergarten class the morning after their strip club experience.

You can read it on AO3 here

Keep reading

[t-hollands-bitch]

[t-hollands-bitch]

Yes! Yes! Thank you! I don't write much at all, but I reblog and share content. And I don't want someone to come to my blog (minor or not) and tell me that I shouldn't post bc there are minors here. Sorry but 1)it's up to the minor to actually read the warnings 2)I'm not the parent, the parents should have control on what their kid is consuming online.

Period.

Okay, here’s the other piss, sis. 

If you are a minor, and you ship Starker, or any variation of a Peter ship that gets you into this little corner of the MCU fandom, it is your responsibility to not only make sure people can see that your a minor, but to not interact with the adults of the fandom, or touch their NFF/NSFW content. 

If you are under the age of 18, you are a CHILD. You should stay in a CHILD’S place. Enjoy your own age appropriate content, make your own servers, make your own group chats, and have yourself your own little corner. 

Now, if you are over the age of eighteen, and you are knowingly engaging with a minor in an inappropriate way, then you are adding to the problem. You are the reason we have a bad name. I don’t mean offering advice, playing the sibling role and putting out age-appropriate content… You know what I’m fucking talking about.

Stop that shit. 

And, if you are a minor, please for the love of GOD, block me. Unfollow me. Do not interact with me or my content. I do not ever post content that is for those under 18. I write hardcore, DARK content. That is what I do. So, please, so I don’t lose my mind feeling uncomfortable… Get the fuck off my blog.