#This did NUMBERS on Twitter so you whores better not disappoint

[nugatorysheep]

Heartbreak as a young lad. He looks pretty normal for a future dictator and genocidal maniac lmao

[tsukiihime]

Heartbreak (Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader)

Hey everyone! This is my first BNHA piece, something I wrote when I was bored and thought what the hey, I’ll post it! Feedback is appreciated!

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairings: Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cyberbulling, swearing, breakup, angst, just kind of a sad piece overall?

Next Chapter

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you started dating the Explosion Hero Dynamight, you knew that you were throwing yourself to the wolves. The media is cruel and the fans even crueller - if they deem you unworthy for their Hero then you’re in for a hell of a time - and not in a good way. But you loved Bakugo - you’ve loved him more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and for two years of your life you’ve been by his side as he  climbs through the Hero charts. 

But recently, the media has been sniffing a little too close to home. Someone has tipped the tabloids off to your existence and ravenous fans have been finding your social media day after day. Your selfies on Instagram are being bombarded with hateful comments on everything ranging from your weight to your skin color to your fashion sense, while your Twitter messages are flooded with paragraph after paragraph full of venom and vitriol. You can no longer take the headlines, the hate, the disgust being dished out at you day and day out. You beg your boyfriend to do something, anything to make the media leave you alone. Which brings you to tonight - in a heated argument with the Hero Dynamight.

“All I’m saying is that if you address the media, if you tell them that I’m your girlfriend, they might back off. I can’t do this anymore Katsuki, I can’t keep waking up and seeing this shit on my feed!” You’re so angry you’re shaking, and it’s pissing you off even more that Bakugo stares at you, unblinking and unfazed, arms crossed in indifference.

“You know I can’t do that. I do that, and my ratings plunge.” Your eyes widen in disbelief as soon as those words leave his mouth, you can’t believe he even said that. 

“Are you serious Katsuki? Is beating Deku and becoming the number one hero really worth more to you than us? Than me?” Tears threatened to spill over at any moment, your fists clenching until your nails left tiny red crescents in your skin. You stared at vermilion eyes refusing to back down, waiting with trembling lips for his answer.

“You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me. I don’t know why you need so much fuckin’ reassurance that you’re different from all those other damn extras.” That sentence sends you from angry to fuckin’ pissed in less than a second. 

You jab at his chest, practically screaming: “Excuse me? When we started dating, I was promised that you’d protect me from everything, including the media. Do you see the shit they say about me Katsuki? What they say about my body, my family, my upbringing? How they call me a slut and a whore because my Instagram has ‘Toshi on it and now I’ve been spotted with you? I can’t even visit my parents because I’m afraid they’ll follow me. I can’t go and see “Toshi because they’ll shit talk me even more! And you sit there and do nothing. Say nothing. All I want is for you to tell them the truth, that we are dating and that we are a couple.” 

Now, it’s Bakugo’s turn to bite back. “And I’m sayin’ my hands are tied. They know I’m with someone, and I lose  fans. Which means, I ain’t gonna beat that damn Deku at the rankings next month.”

“Fuck the rankings Bakugo! Can you get your head out of your ass for a second?! How in the world,” you turn to go to grab your phone, pulling up the latest headline about you on the tabloid’s website, “can you let them say this about me? Don’t you at least care that I’m being attacked on the daily?” Tears fall freely from your eyes now, and Bakugo flinches for a second, but only a second. You laugh in anger, turning away from him. “I already know the answer, Katsuki. You care more about the rankings than me. I’m in the way of your dream if you say I’m with you, so let me remove myself from the equation.” You grab a jacket, an umbrella and your phone, and put on your shoes. “It’s over Katsuki. I’m done. If you won’t say that we’re together, then we shouldn’t be together.” 

You turn to leave, and a part of you hopes that he’ll follow - that he’ll grab you and hold you tight and tell you that he loves you, loves you more than the stupid rankings and that he’ll stand by you no matter what the media says.

But he doesn’t. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk a couple of blocks to another apartment building, ring the doorbell and wait for the response to come from the other side. A deep voice responds, belonging to someone who had obviously been sleeping. “Who the hell is it?”

“‘Toshi, it’s me.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? It’s raining idiot, get in here.” The doors unlock and you make your way inside. You know this building like the back of your hand, it’s the home of your best friend and your second home. You make your way to his apartment and he’s waiting for you in the hallway - purple hair tousled and messy, body heavy with sleep and dark undereye circles accentuating violet eyes as he scratches the back of his neck. It’s a tic of his, one you know well - he’s nervous.

“A fight huh?” 

“Worse. I broke it off.” Shinsou immediately tenses at the mention of this, and if you weren’t so pissed and hurt by Bakugo you would’ve laughed. 

“Shit...I’m sorry. Come in, tell me all about it.” He steps aside and lets you into his apartment, closing the door as he prepares himself to listen to you complain until the sun rises. He agrees to help you get your things when you’re ready to return, and says you can crash at his place until you find somewhere else to stay.

You return two days later, punching in the code to the apartment you and Bakugo share - well, you supposed shared was the better word. It felt so foreign, being here after everything. Memories of the last two years flooded into your mind - lazy days where you spent all day with Katsuki on the couch doing nothing but watching horrible horror flicks and laughing the night away, those early mornings that had you waking up at five o’clock in the morning to cook pancakes while the sleepy blonde wraps his arms around your waist while teasing your culinary skills. Even the late nights when schoolwork kept you awake well into the twilight hours and your exhausted body dragged itself to the bed you and he shared, breathing in the caramel scent of the man you loved as your head hits the plush pillows and you drift off to sleep. But now, all of those memories have disappeared into the wind, replaced with the fight you and Bakugo had before you had stormed out of the house that night. He’s been texting you like mad, calling you like there is no tomorrow, but you ignore his calls. He never leaves a voicemail, so you don’t know what’s on his mind.  

As the beige door swung open, you breathed a sigh of relief that Katsuki wasn’t home. You had neither the heart nor the energy to see him after all that had happened and instead resolved yourself to get all of your things before his shift ended at his agency. You spent the next hour rounding up everything you owned - books, pictures, everything that you had room to take and that you knew you wouldn’t miss if you left it behind. When you had a breather you sent a quick text to Shinsou to let him know you were almost ready to go - and took a deep breath as you entered your bedroom. No, your former bedroom now. “That’s all it is now.” you remind yourself.

You start dumping all your clothes into trash bags and gather up pictures and toiletries that belong to you as you clean up the bedroom from one end to the other. As you grab a pile and place it on the bed, an article of clothing falls that you don’t recognize. You bend over and pick it up to inspect it closer. 

You know your clothes, all of them. But this lacy lingerie set that is discarded on the floor isn’t yours, hell, it isn’t even your size. Your throat feels like sandpaper and your nose crinkles as you drop the clothes as if burned by a flame. You can’t help but stare at it as a million things run through your mind at once: whose is it? How long has it been here? Was this before or after you and Katsuki broke up? Did he already move on? The last thought is something you know you shouldn’t dwell on, it isn’t your business what he does after you’re the one that ended the relationship. You know this and yet the tears come anyways, endless and stinging without end. Your legs give out and you fall to your knees clutching your heart as sobs fall from your lips, as your emotions bounce all over the place. The molten hot anger you felt at first is now transforming into deep sadness, all the bittersweet memories racing through your mind now replaced by images of Katsuki holding another woman, another lover just like he held you. You can’t stop as your brain formulates these what if situations - what if he was waiting for you to end it so he could be with her? You start to imagine him kissing another with the same passion he held for you. You see another in your place, eating the food that he insists on making to spoil you after a long night of homework, running their fingers through his hair as he falls asleep on their lap, and seeing another wrapped in his arms as they fall asleep together under the moonlit sky.

“I can’t stay here” you whisper to yourself, desperate to stop the tears that won’t end - desperate to feel anything but this pit of agony. You’ll take numbness over this endless heartbreak, this disappointment, this feeling of self-deprecation that tells you over and over that you weren’t good enough. “I-”

The door opens and you hear Shinsou’s voice behind you, calling your name and making his way through the hallway at the front of the apartment. “You didn’t answer my texts so I came up to check on you and-” The purple haired man freezes when he sees you, sitting on the floor with your head in your hands, sobbing uncontrollably as a waterfall of tears spill from your eyes dripping onto your fingers. You can no longer hold back your sobs as everything comes to a head - your insecurities, the hateful comments left on your social media, Katsuki’s own dismissal of your feelings as you two fought that night two days ago. Shinsou immediately drops to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your frame and holding you close. “It’s okay...let it out.” You peer up at him from tear filled eyes, lunging at him to wrap your arms around his neck as you bury your face in his chest. 

“Hitoshi…” is all you’re able to say before another sob wracks your body, tears staining your cheeks and dampening Shinsou’s hoodie. You try desperately to explain why you’re crying, and why you’re so upset but you can’t find the words as your tongue feels heavy like a bunch of bricks. Indigo eyes drift to the underwear discarded behind you, anger seething in his veins as he puts two and two together. 

“Bakugo, you fucking tool.” He thinks to himself as he holds you, letting you cry out what you can’t tell him but he knows. He knows you better than anyone, just as you know him better than anyone. He remembers the vibrant little girl he met on the playground all those years ago, who spoke to him without a care even with his “villainous” quirk. He remembers your ecstatic scream as he calls you to let you know that he was able to get into the Hero Course at U.A, and he remembers you celebrating his acceptance at getting into a Hero Agency by getting blackout drunk and waking up with you in snuggled in his arms as you wear his favorite hoodie. He remembers being the one to introduce you to Bakugo at a Hero Ranking after party when you accompanied him as his plus one. He remembers how breathtaking you looked that night - an obsidian dress that hugged your figure closely, long legs accentuated by black stilettos and your plush lips painted in a ruby red hue. He remembers being the man of the hour, the hero Mindjack accompanied by a beauty on his arm, the envy of the venue. He remembers dancing with you, his most beloved childhood friend, his most precious person. He remembers watching you stride to the bar, smiling as you greet the bartender with glee and and he remembers watching you bump into Bakugo as you apologize quickly to the blonde before making your way back to him. He also remembers Bakugo following you to him, prompting him to introduce you to the man who would eventually become your boyfriend.

“If only you hadn’t bumped into him that night”, Shinsou thinks to himself, “Katsuki Bakugo, I’m going to give you a piece of my mind when I see you next.” How helpless he feels watching you cry as your heart shatters into a million pieces, how powerless he feels as he holds you tighter than he’s ever held anyone before. “C’mon, let’s get you home. I’ll take what I can and I’ll get the rest another day.” he smiles as he looks at you, giving you a small grin that he hopes makes you feel a bit better. “Don’t worry, I grabbed your Switch and your laptop, so the lazy girl hours can still happen” you punch him in the shoulder playfully as you wipe tears away on your sleeve, pouting as you roll your eyes at his lazy jokes before he continues, “and I’ll send Bakugo a text on what’s happening. You won’t have to deal with him. I promise.” It doesn’t escape his notice how you tense up when he says Bakugo, but the small smile you give at his joke makes him feel just a bit better. You stand up and press your lips to his forehead, tippy toeing to reach. “Thanks ‘Toshi. I really appreciate it, truly.” 

“Anything for my Animal Crossing buddy.” You cross your arms and give him a questioning look, eliciting a chuckle from the taller male. “I’m jus’ kiddin’. You know I’d do anything for you. And your Switch.” You laugh as you turn to grab your boxes and make your way to the front of the apartment, the lingerie that had shattered your world moments ago momentarily forgotten in the corner of you and Bakugo’s bedroom. “It’s only Bakugo’s now” you remind yourself as you walk out into the living room, “this place belongs to Bakugo only.” You take one last look at your home for the last ten months, and quickly turn on your heels to make your way to the elevator with your entire life packed into a few boxes. A small sense of regret lingers in you, but you quickly shove that aside to stop yourself from crying some more. Shinsou grabs the rest of the boxes left on the table, and places your key to the apartment on the counter next to a picture frame with the glass faced down. He then turns and follows you out the door to his car.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few nights are the hardest - Shinsou’s apartment only has one bedroom, one bathroom and the living room which means you’re on the couch until you find your own place. You’ve known Shinsou since childhood and you wouldn’t mind sharing a bed but you’re so distraught from your discovery in Bakugo’s room that you want to be alone to cry it out if you need to - you already feel like a burden to Shinsou despite his protests against the idea. He’s not home tonight - on patrol around the city as you sit in the living room wrapped in a blanket and wearing his favorite hoodie. You flip through the channels and stumble across the Hero Rankings red carpet. It’s been ages since Hitoshi attended one, becoming more of an “underground hero” and avoiding the spotlight if possible. In fact, the only time he attended one was with you around the time you met Bakugo. You cringe at the thought of him, trying quickly to remove him from your mind. The rational part of your mind wants to change the channel, to watch those documentaries you love so much and wait until Shinsou gets back home but you don’t. Instead, you decide to remain on this channel, watching as heroes come and go on the red carpet with their dates and hear the host gush about each one’s accomplishments. This is torture, you know Bakugo will appear since he’s the number four Hero, you know he’ll be there and yet like a train wreck, you can’t look away. Maybe you’re curious as to what he’s up to, or maybe you want to see if he looks as miserable as you know you do. In any case, you wait with baited breath to see a pair of scarlet eyes and ash blonde hair to satiate your curiosity. A flash of green catches your attention and you see Izuku Midoriya appear on screen in front of you. Deku is the number three Hero and on his arm is his girlfriend Uraraka, another Hero ranked at number seven. You’ve met the both of them at parties you attend with Bakugo - they both received a lot of hate from “fans'' when they announced they were dating, but the love they exuded for each other made the media change their tune really fast. They truly adored one another and didn’t care if their ratings took a dive. You had wished Bakugo would do that for you, but you weren’t a Hero and you didn’t have an impressive quirk, so his agency decided that it would be better for his ratings if he kept you a secret and he agreed. At first, you didn’t mind but the comments on social media and the tabloids made you feel as if he wasn’t yours at all - instead all you felt was that he was ashamed of you. 

Then you see him. You grip the remote so hard it almost hurts, but you keep on looking anyway. There stands the number four Hero Katsuki Bakugo, wearing a red and black suit and looking as he always does - confident to the point of arrogance, a grumpy face that makes him unapproachable, arms crossed in annoyance. The cameras go off flash after flash, and the announcer goes over his stats - how many people he’s saved, his amount of solved cases, so on and so forth. You smile at his ranking, he’s gone from eleven to four in such a short amount of time, and you know he has his determination to thank for that. He works hard, that you can’t deny. 

Then you see her. You recognize her, from the tabloids and the makeup commercials. The Illusion Hero, Maboromicamie. She’s tall, beautiful, and has a gorgeous figure as well as a comfy place ranked as the number ten Hero. Her arm is linked with Bakugo’s, and he has an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close for the photoshoot. The announcer raises their voice in excitement, as a headline appears on your TV: “Dynamight and Maboromicamie an item? Seen together getting close at the awards ceremony!”

You shut off the TV and close your eyes. What were you expecting? Why did you do that? You can’t help the tears that escape, but they do. There you sit, alone in the apartment with the image of those two stuck in your head, burned into your memory. When Shinsou gets home, he says nothing and you’re grateful for it - you know he’s seen the ceremony and he knows you well enough to know that you’ve seen it too. Instead, he showers, lays down next to you, and holds you close as you cry quietly into his arms.

[mgkconfessions]

are you ok?? you've been MIA for so long which is unusual and you usually say if you're going offline. I hope everything is ok on your end we are waiting for you to come on <3

I owe all of you a big apology for leaving without saying anything! I always hate it when others do this and now I did it as well. So my biggest apology for that! I usually announce when I won't be online but this time I didn't do it because it wasn't planned. It just happened.

It isn't like I don't care anymore about the boys but I also haven't been following any of the guys or Ashleigh on Instagram and Twitter for a while now. I still follow some fan/confession pages and sometimes posts about Kells show up on my explore page or someone tells me something new about them, but for the most part, I don't feel like spending that much time on them anymore. I mean why should I? Kells has never cared less about his fans and only brings them up when he wants his number one spot on the charts, wants to sell his merch or needs someone to stroke his fragile ego to falsely confirm to him that yes, he's doing everything right and doesn't have to regret anything, nothing was ever his fault! :) When actually he got himself into what I believe to be a very big mess that is probably a lot worse than what we imagine it to be like and he doesn't even know how to get out of anymore. It makes me sad to see someone with so much potential and who has a very sympathetic, sweet, humble and funny side to him throw it all away because running from everything and having an attitude of "I don't give a fuck, I'm a rock star. Rules don't apply to me" seem to be the better options. But they aren't. They're just the easy way out. And they aren't even that. They're just a safe way to more issues, bigger problems and more regrets in the future to work through with a therapist. Although he has the financial resources and many people who love and would support him, instead of improving his life, he's only making it worse by closing himself off from any emotions and thoughts that would probably force him to stop living in an illusion but confront him with the ugly truth what his life has become. I pitty him in that aspect that he can't even look at himself in the mirror and like the person looking back at him. I know he talks a lot about being a screw up and not perfect but that isn't taking accountability for his actions. Reflecting on why he does what he does and is the way he is and then trying and finding ways to make it better next time would be. But he isn't doing that. At the VMA's he just confirmed paying for therapy but never going. So he protects himself from all the painful memories and realizations about himself, likely to be able to even continue with his life and not to suffocate under his mountain of disappointment about himself, regrets and guilt by allowing his ego to take over. But it turned him into the most unlikeable, constantly lying, inauthentic sell out Hollywood Whore that he has ever been and made him lose so many fans that followed him for years and gave him a career even back then when the mainstream music world didn't give a fuck about him. His ego and pursuing superficial and materialistic goals in the false hope of those achievements making him happy and feel loved and validated, seem to be the main things keeping him alive these days. If I could give him any tip it would be to look more inside than outside.

I have no idea how he's still going through with all of this because I'm already so tired of this fake show and anyone and everything that came with it. I really wish him the best and that he will be able to truly work on himself and actually get better and repair what has fallen apart during this time and not just for a fake image that he can sell for publicity, but most things he does these days just turn me off. And because of all that I don't know what to do and in which direction I would like to go with this blog anymore. I'm already quite busy with my own life most times, I don't feel like writing about his attention seeking and toxic relationship anymore, because it's the exact same thing over and over again and I would like to give them the least amount of attention which is what they deserve and I'm not that invested in him anymore that I want to take much time out of my day to talk about him either. I still enjoy the occasional exchange with others but right now I don't see myself being as active on this blog anymore as I was before. I'm not sure yet what I will do. I have a couple of ideas but the only thing that I'm sure about is that I won't be as regularly active anymore.

Again my apologies for disappearing without a word! That wasn't planned at all and thanks for anyone who still reached out to me. I'm doing fine and if I'm offline, I'm just living and enjoying my own life :).

[bts-jimin16]

BTS Reaction to their S/O getting hate for dating them

Namjoon

He was disappointed in his fans for bashing his girlfriend over the internet or calling her disgusting names as she walked the streets, but he couldn’t say he didn’t see this coming. Namjoon being the protective type of boyfriend would have ask the company and his manager if they could send out a message either on twitter or the fancafe declaring that him and you are dating and any form of hate towards their relationship or to you directly will not be tolerated and those harassing her either online or in person will be charged. He would constantly tell you not to focus too much on it even though it was getting pretty intense and to just focus on your relationship. Whenever you were depressed after seeing the nasty comments people would post online, Namjoon would always do little cute things to make you feel better like taking you out on cute ice cream dates or relaxing walks in the park at night. All these little things he did for you made you feel loved and it always took your mind away from the negativity. You loved how sweet he was and you appreciated him so much for always giving you encouraging words to console whenever you were down and this made you realise that you didn’t need to focus on his so called ‘fans’ that didn’t like or support their relationship because you know Namjoon and you did and that was all that mattered.

“We won’t let them spilt us apart”

Seokjin

Seokjin He could immediately tell something was off when you weren’t overjoyed at the fact that he had prepared all of your favourite dishes. He’d hesitantly question why you were in such a bad mood, but you would just shake him off, giving the classic excuse; your workmates were extremely hard to deal with so you were emotionally drained. He accepted it and you both would settle down at the dinner table to eat in a tense atmosphere. This would become a sort of routine for a couple of days; you coming home in a bad mood, dismissing it with the same excuse and Seokjin, not wanting to fight, would leave it at that, until everything unravelled. You just happened to leave your phone, unlocked with twitter opened, when you left to use the bathroom (continued) Normally Seokjin respected your privacy to the point of him refusing to be in the same room when you took a call, however your attitude the past few days was worrying to say the least. He grabbed your phone, and what he saw your direct messages opened. His eyes widened in shock, hundreds of hate messages were flooding her inbox. Scrolling through the seemingly never ending messages, he grew angrier and angrier. ‘Why didn’t she say anything’ he questioned, he immediately confronted you when you exited the bathroom. Your cheeks lit up from embarrassment, before confessing that you were worried he’d do something rash that would cause him to lose fans. He just took you in his arms, sighing gently.

“ Anyone who hurts you can’t love me.”

Yoongi

Yoongi would always wonder what made you so depressed these past few days and why whenever he asked you what was wrong why you would always reply with short answers saying it’s nothing or that you were fine. It bothered him to know that you were feeling somewhat depressed and down and you wouldn’t open up to him but he thought giving you the space you needed would make you eventually tell him what was going on so he backed off with all his question ling and waited. A couple days had pass and you weren’t any better, maybe a little worse and he couldn’t bare to see you beat yourself up like this over something he was completely oblivious about.  He regretted never finding out what was wrong and trying to help you when he came over to yours after practice and heard faint sobs coming from your room, without any hesitation he rushed to your room, his heart breaking seeing you curled up on your bed with tear stained cheeks trying to calm your sniffling. He took slow cautious steps towards you laying figure, his heart breaking a little more every time he heard a sob leave your lips. He sat next to you and reached out to remove your hair from covering your slightly swollen face as a result from your crying. Seeing you like this inflicted something in him whether it was concern or anger. He asked you what was wrong leaning down so he laid with you in his arms trying not to upset you any further. You sighed and relaxed into his chest trying your best to swallow down the unshed tears fighting to escape as you built up the courage to tell him what caused you to be in this state. As soon as you were finished what ever anger he had in him was full out rage now. He couldn’t stand the people that claimed to be his fans treating his girlfriend like this, calling her a slut, a whore and even a gold digger that was only with him for his money but he completely lost it when you told him that they threatened to do anything in their power to break them up. You tired to calm him saying it wasn’t that big of a deal but even though he only calmed a little bit he was still worried.

“Don’t worry y/n, I’ll deal with it”

Hoseok

Hoseok had noticed it for a while now. You’ve been so distant lately, withdrawing from showing affection in public, which would have been normal had it been a few months ago when the world knew you as his sister’s best friend rather than his girlfriend. You had spent two and a half years of your time together keeping your relationship a secret. Hoseok couldn’t bear the thought of your relationship being kept a secret from the rest of the world, so a few months ago, he had BigHit release a statement, announcing your relationship. From then, he had hoped it would have been smooth sailing, but it seems to have the opposite effect on your relationship. You sat in front of Hoseok, your eyes refusing to even graze his anxious frame, both of you sat at your dinner table, eating a lunch you prepared. The sound of silverware clinking on  plates was all that could be heard, while Hoseok repeatedly glances up at you. The sound of a text coming through to your phone alerts the both of you. He watches you as you swiftly grab your phone, unlock it and scan the contents of the text. With each word your mind registered, your face fell, tears quickly gathering in the corners of your eyes. Hoseok took note of this and quickly grabbed the phone from your hands, his eyes scanning the text. 

“You’re such a fucking whore, stay away from Hoseok you bitch” 

Hoseok blinked in shock.  He never once considered that you might have been getting hate. In fact, ARMYs loved you when you were known to the world as his sister’s best friend. That was precisely the reason why he decided to make your relationship public. ‘How did a fan even get your number?!’ he asked himself incredulously. Looking up at you, he saw that the tears had already fell from your eyes. Without a second thought, he rounded the table to latch onto you like a child.

“I’m soo sorry, I didn’t know" 

Jimin

Jimin was always the type of person to know when something was bothering you even if it was something so small and unimportant, he would always know, cause he knows you. So when you started receiving hate from his ‘fans'and it caused you to always be in a down mood he immediately realized your off behavior. He would be cautious about it not trying to pressure you to tell him what was bothering you giving you your space, but that didn’t mean he would leave it as is, he would do small little things to bring your spirits up like cute movie nights, buying your favorite snack or food or just randomly cuddling you until you couldn’t help but smile. You were sitting in the living room of Jimin and the boys dorm mindlessly scrolling through your phone until you came across a post, the type of posts that was the cause your depressed state lately, someone had posted a picture of Jimin and you together, when you both went on a date and had a very long detailed paragraph downgrading you saying you weren’t pretty or skinny enough to be dating him and that he deserved someone better. You couldn’t hold back the tear that rolled down your cheek feeling absolutely horrible about yourself. You couldn’t believe someone could be so cruel. Just as a sob left your mouth Jimin walked into the room clueless about your depressed state, you tried to compose yourself as you quickly wiped your damp cheeks smiling up at your boyfriend as he approached you, but knowing Jimin, he noticed. “What’s wrong, why are you crying” worry laced in his words as he sat next to you and intertwined your hands in your lap. When you told him what caused your tears he immediately felt guilty, for this hate was because of him. Sighing, Jimin would try to be positive, smiling in your direction, that smile that always warmed your heart and tell you to don’t worry about those comments and that they weren’t going to affect your relationship with him, in his eyes it just made him want to be with you more to show his ‘fans’ that you were beautiful in every way in his eyes despite what other see or say.

 “Who cares what others think, you have me and I have you, that’s all that matters”

Taehyung

Both you and Taehyung had been extremely busy with your respective jobs so to say it was hard for you to meet up was putting it very lightly. You both had barely managed to maintain constant good morning texts, throughout this time but you were beginning to miss Taehyung more than you had previously anticipated, especially when you had to deal with a constant stream of death threats and hate messages coming into all of your social media inboxes. Since BigHit confirmed your relationship with Taehyung earlier that year, you have been on the receiving end of thousands of hate messages and it was beginning to get to you. Tae had always been a caring soul, always reminding you to tell him if any fans bothered you or said nasty things but you couldn't bare the thought of piting him against his fans that devoted their time and money into making him the megastar he is today. So in the end, you would just keep it locked up on the inside. You and Taehyung had  finally arranged a date on the very rare day that you both had off. You'd been sweetly enjoying yourselves, entwined hands swinging between the both of you as you walked along the paved trail in the park. Settling down at a picnic table you had told Taehyung you had to use the bathroom and that you'd be back in five minutes. Five minutes came and passed, then ten minutes and then fifteen. Taehyung had began to become anxious, taking off in the direction of the bathrooms. He hand barely just passed the girls bathroom when he hear voices. He pressed his head against the door to listen.

 " How dare you think you have the right to keep Taehyung to yourself"

 A slap echoed in through the vacant bathroom, Taehyung flinching at the sound before pushing the door open. The two girls that had you cornered broke away before cowering into a corner of their own. Taehyung's glare sent them scurrying out of the bathroom. Almost immediately, he ran to your side, holding you up  from sliding down the wall onto the floor. Moisture collected in his eyes as he whispered into your ears,

"I've made you suffer, haven't I?"

Jungkook 

Jungkook was beyond clueless about the whole situation about you receiving so much hate for being with him. He was always very busy and hardly had anytime to actually sit and be on his phone or laptop to check what was going on in the fandom. Knowing how he would react you tried your best to keep this hidden from him, you knew he would blame himself saying that it was all his fault for this hate being directed at you. Whenever he was with you, you kept a smile and preppy personality to hide what you were really going through all the while trying to prevent him from going on his phone. He thought your behaviour was a little sceptical but didn’t think too much into it figuring you were just trying to spend time with him. You both were at this little cafe having lunch, you cherished these times you got to spend with him and nothing really got your mood down when all your attention and feelings were directed to your boyfriend, in these rare moments you actually forgot about all the hate and just focused on being with him and what you both had but this feeling was short lived when your phone buzzed signifying you had got a notification. Without thinking you mindlessly unlocked your phone but was greeted with something that instantly turned your mood upside down. The warm and happy feeling you had now turned into a depressed and anxious one. He noticed your change in mood, becoming worried and decided that he would ask what had been bothering you wondering if it had anything to do with him always being busy. Your eyes widened trying to find the right words knowing if you said it was nothing he would definitely know you were lying because you knew he could sense your change in mood. You started stuttering on your words but what caught you off-guard was him suddenly reaching across your shared table and grabbed your phone. You heart beat increased panicking about him finding out about the hate you were getting. His eyes narrowed at the screen frowning as he processed what he was seeing. As you were about to tell him it was nothing to worry about he cut you off. 

“ Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about this, how long was this going on for?, I should if known something like this would of happened when we started dating, I’m sorry y/n it’s all my fault I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

[strangewriterforhire]

Pearls Before Swine

"You fall as your stresses crack you, shattering into component parts. It is not how or why they fell, but how they recombine that determines your place in the unfolding of events. And your worth in deciding how they unfold." 4th Treaty of the Trans Enlightenment, Second Permutation, Fifth Revelation. +++ It had once been a church, he mused quietly from the cool of the cloak's hood. He sat upon an overly comfortable chair laden with cushions fattened with stuffing. So much was its designed comfort that it had reached the point of losing its status as a chair altogether, and becoming more a cloud of foam and feathers. To the man's tastes and peculiarities the chair was too much of one thing, and not enough of another. It was too comfortable, designed to lull a sensuous mind into lax thinking and ill judgement.It was not the chair for a sharp mind. To his right sat the house's proprietor and matriarch. The covering of those cushions and rolling pads matched her loose fitting and embarrassingly sheer clothing perfectly, for that was exactly what they were. She was a being of immense size and girth, her face a round moon like visage lacking only craters of long ago collisions with less sturdier astronomical phenomena. Her balding head shone in the oil lamp haze of the repurposed church's nave, a mix of sweat from the perpetual heat of the world and oil and greases from a body bloated beyond sense. "You...wish to see another?" the woman spoke, her voice arising from between lip that barely moved. Her bleached white skin, stretched taut across her skull, complemented eyes as dark as onyx marbles that examined her guest and, hopefully, most wealthy of patron.After all a visitor from the stars, those long ago realms of vast riches...well all legends had at their heart a kernel of truth. The man next to her, who sought no sensual fulfilment from a house that sold little else, did not speak. He instead rolled a gauntleted hand, a gesture of near universal understanding with the rolling progression of time and events. The woman did not nod or give assent, she merely sighed loudly like dying billows. At that a young malnourished boy clapped once and loudly beside her. Upon the bema the tenth offering of day was removed, guided by careful hands to some off stage place. The auctioned being moved in a drug addled waltz, its base line reality no doubt in improved given what little of the world the man had seen. The next offering was put in her place, and posed by handlers ‘thusly’ so that the houses Madame and wealthy guest might judge worth and ability. On the surface the eleventh offering, as pale skinned and hairless as her 'employer', was as beautiful as current standard permitted. She wore the standard sheer white fabric as the house banner and mark, revealing a supple and pleasurable shape to the perspective eye of the man in the cloak. He did not see her as such, as eyes lighted by clever trickery flickered beneath the hood. They peered into her very being, past her snow white skin to the very heart of the matter. Pulsing viscera, corded muscles, and yellowing bones... And again, disappointment. Tumours grew mercilessly within, some of them brought on by the radiation that fell from the high jet streams of the atmosphere, some of them triggered by the ouroboros effect of inbreeding that such a diminished gene pool prompted. No doubt amongst her kin she was a rare and precious beauty, the one amid many who had apparently been spared the blight of outward disfigurement. She was a wealth of perfection given to the descendants of past sins who called the rock of Purgatory their home. It would explain why she had sold to a whore house. His hand rolled again. "Perhaps...oh noble and honoured guest...I could best serve you an offering that was to your liking...if only I knew your tastes. Your wants, and needs...oh honoured star bon." The woman beside crooned in a voice that rose and fell with her laboured breaths. The head within the hood turned slightly, his chin pointing at her gently as though appraising her. His hand rolled again. "Another!" She gasped, and the little boy beside her clapped his hand again. The handlers in their thick veils and bracelet shrouded wrists came out to guide the unwanted false beauty back from when she came. "And bring us libations! Sweet sweets to view the sweet offerings I bring before our honoured guest." The cloaked figures nose wrinkled at the idea of partaking of the local fares. There was no doubt in his mind that he would survive a passing tryst with a glass of their passable imitation of liquor. What was not in question in his mind, was that he would not be able to live with himself should such a fetid and rancid fluid pass his lips. He was not, after all, without standards. The next offering was the same as all before. All of it hidden beneath sweet pale skin dappled in the colour shifting light that shone through broken and ill repaired glass windows. The saints of those windows, great iconic giants of peace and prosperity that compensated for the little and petty things that prayed to them, were given ringside seats to the depravities of humanity's lower natures. Between the two seats, a silver tray of ancient providence was placed down. Atop it were a number of decanters, carrying liquids of dubious quality to a small jar of grey spheres. He watched as another little boy, one of a collection he assumed, plucked the bottle of rounded solids from the tray and poured a single mercury coloured sphere into his hand. He then lift it between thumb and forefinger over the Madames head, her large open mouth wide revealing a row of flat porcelain teeth. The boy’s hand moved carefully, and grounded the solid between his fingers. It powered easily, raining down into the black void to the eager lappings of a serpentine tongue. A narcotic, how...quaint these hominids are, the cloaked figure thought privately to himself. He focused his attention on the scene as the woman's eyes roll in reaction to the drugs highjacking her neural functions. With a thought he could see into her skull, and watch as the neurons of her grey pudding of a mind fired haphazardly. The resulting aura of blues and ruby reds appeared fleetingly above her head as her energy bleed through the ting sheet of bone.

The glowing embers of a dying a fire, he thought. He watched as the bottle the drug had come in was put back upon the tray. But not by the boy’s, for it was the hand of the servant who had brought the tray out. The one that he had written off as without exception. It was a hand covered in a shifting web work of tattoos. They ringed around knuckles, and crept up slender fingers like the vines that gripped and strangled mansions of forgetting nobility. The hands base colouring was a deep matt black, as unnatural a pigmentation upon this world as it would have been had the hand been a tentacle or some carapace coated mandible.  The tattoo's, ever shifting and moving as though partially alive, were a glossy black upon this still canvas. The play of stained light upon them made their appearance hallucinatory, as though some of the rosy powder fed to the obese officiator of bondage had been fed to him as well. He turned fully to apprise the owner of arm, his hopes that the arm was a part of a complete set, and not the grafted trophy of some tumour infested local soon answered. He was not disappointed. Whilst she was not dressed to be shown off to the hungry crowds or the wealthy patrons courted for this establishment, she was not without her womanly charm. Her dark black skin was lightly covered in a opaque fabric that probably denoted her status as an undesirable, or unattainable commodity the house did not sell. It was white, the same shade as the ghostly sheer of the Madame's clothing, and jarred painfully with her skin like bitter static. The tattoos rose along her arms, spreading across shoulders and under the cut of the simple shift like dress, the lines and knots of the oily decoration squirming as though in pain from the garments lack of taste. It extended up her neck, flowing along a strong jaw and narrow chin that framed a face fierce in its put upon submissiveness. She, unlike the majority of the pale skins in the room, had hair atop her head and fuzzy narrow eye brows that hid well upon her obsidian brow. She had pulled, or had had pulled her hair back into a simple functional ponytail that was pulled taut against the skin of her forehead. It gave her a look of sleek predatory design, as though at any moment she would move faster than the eye could see. It would explain the heavy chain about her neck, its wrought iron collar speckled with rust that ground against her throat in bloody flecks. A chained animal was chained for a reason, and the seal of her lips might well hide sharp teeth.. The woman beside him squeal a disgusting sound, and he turned and saw that she was looking both at him, and the predatory serving girl. "She sickens me!" the woman growled, rivulets of spit flying from fleshy lips "The taste of bile, rich upon my lips at the mere sight of her dark, sinister form! Good only to serve, to kneel and do the bidding of her betters, or rot in the open pits of sewage and decay!" "Then why keep her?" The man asked, his voice melodic and perfectly intoned, speaking the language of the obese woman as though born to it many decades before where as he was but a new arrival hours ago. "She is a...curiosity. A spoil of a debt repaid by another Star Born. There are many who enjoy curiosity, either by viewing it from afar, or sampling it from a more intimate vantage point," the obese woman purred, sensing advantage like the cold blooded reptile that she was. "Does she speak?" "She speaks a twittering misbegotten tongue to be sure, the devils very words in fact, but she understands the words of her betters. No fear, no worry, she will...understand what you ask of her," she crooned, licking her lips as she tried to study the cloaked figure to understand his wants and needs. "I will take her then," he said, standing slowly as his cloak billowed around him, opening to reveal gleaming metal lining its interior and the darker form of himself within. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a simple pouch of metallic cloth. He opened it and jostled out a few rough pinkish rocks as big as his eye. He weighed them in his hand, and then slipped those into the pocket of his cloak. The bag, still filled with diamonds that had never seen the surface of a world, were placed into the hands of meat trader. "A pleasure doing business with you, oh great Star Born." she said with a smile, her overly fleshed out paw jiggling as the boy beside her clapped again.