#and proceeded to. give. their talk. on the paper???? wtf???

[queenlua]

i’m sort of convinced that the absolutely best essayists produce new work only erratically.  it is very hard to do all the work of observing/engaging with stuff, then Thinking Real Hard, and then writing some actually-worth-reading piece, on anything like a weekly schedule.  sometimes a person spends years of their life thinking about something and only writes one thing about it.  but it doesn’t matter because that one thing was worth it, exactly what needed to be said

however, alas, the demands of (legacy) publishing and (newer) algorithms disproportionately favor Dudes Who Can Churn Shit Out On Schedule

which is why the most Aggressively Mid Writer of the 00′s Game Writing Scene, Ian Bogost, is writing for the fucking Atlantic nowadays, whereas all the actually interesting, provocative, strange, and generally-worth-reading writers from that era are like. their stuff’s languishing on some mothballed archive on their personal site.  or on a defunct blog.  someplace where people slowly forget about it even though their stuff was always way more daring and novel and just plain interesting than the polished bullshit that builds a career

grumble grumble

[constellationofaries]

Hey kiddo!

If you wanna do some stuff story wise again, we always have our boys waiting for us up in the skies, those who hide a fair way underground in their labs, perhaps even the ones with their illegal dealings?

The story never stops. It's just that sometimes the ink runs out, or we need new paper. It's okay to take a break from things and step away to better yourself. Don't feel as if a story is wasted because of one chapter! <- I'm not just talking about DSMP here ;)

Love you, kiddo. If you ever need anything, my door is unlocked, there's food on the table, and my arms are ready to hold you forever. Healing is a process, but you don't have to go alone.

🩵

hey dad wtf i'm gonna start upgly crying at you. thaynky oyu

i genuinely hope you don't mind but i need to air this out in some form or i might not be able to sleep tonight i think

Okay well. Uh. I'm pretty weirded out with the knowledge that buffoon:

a) placed HIS mental bullshit on me as if my sole purpose in life was to give him attention and 100 reblogs on a 5 minute sketch when i deadass got 2 jobs & ( at the time had a scanlator to commit translations to & ) 3 dogs & MYSELF to take care of & OTHER friends who are not him (ie. you, Raven, Seto, Vulture, Ru, Connor, etc),

b) got prissy that I have friends who give enough of a shit about me to get his ass away from me for my own health despite my reluctance to fully cut communication in every way possible,

c) proceeded to block me on here for a few days and vague about me on his main as if he was the victim,

d) unblocked me to try to send me a message that goes roughly "hey you don't need to reply it's fine if you block me, but i want closure" as if he was the one that was having abandonment issues triggered from almost being forced repeatedly into survival mode to try to keep up when there were clear signs I have severe chronic fatigue and exhaustion,

and e) got prissy and started stalking me on some other account i haven't blocked him on yet and is vagueing me on his main in some extremely gaslighty ass ways ("that's crazy" "you're crazy" "i know i'm not a bad person you're just crazy" <- HELLO?? TEXTBOOK GASLIGHTING)

i know fully well his ass is gonna read this anyway but i frankly have Ceased Caring About This to a degree and will give it no further attention online once I post this.

Moving on about Vincent!

I've (THANK GOD) got my creative groove back by simply doing what the fuck I wanted to do to begin with: OCs and DND! Featuring Ru!!! And Merihem and Práxi!!! And Raven and Atthanli and-

Apparently impromptu campaigns with little to no planning is one hell of a fun way to DM when you've got an attention span about the size of a speck of sand. We accidentally hyperfocused for 3 hours in one session alone. Thank christ for the solo player's toolboxes even though I genuinely want to die sometimes trying to find what I need

My note taking with paper is efficient enough I could genuinely treat them as an outline to a story! So... mayhaps? Who knows! Either way, serotonin is slowly rising again and certainly in far healthier manners now that I'm in better hands (and in a better state of mind all in all)!

I could even pick up my stimboard blog and gifmaking blog back up if I don't have too much on my plate with my campaign with Ru I think!! It's on the back burner for sure though, I miss gif hunting and gif making and editing gifs :(

honestly - i will heal from this and i will move on from it as you've seen me do time and time again. you know it is damn hard to keep me down!

[tellywoodtrash]

channa mereya 31.10.22 lb

ginni came home and showed gulaabo ji the jala hua diary

gulaabo ji ecstatic

idk why tho

kuch bhi toh nahi rha diary ka, covers ke alaaava

gulaabo ji finally noticing ki hein why this fuckin burnt to a crisp

telling where you find this did you tell adi call him and tell him

ginni told truth

ginni shows pic of daarji and her dad

gulaabo dimpy shampy shock mein

lol the acting of the dimpy shampy kids tho

bless their hearts

udhar adi reading legal papers ke daarji has decided to give 50% of all assets to gulaabo ji and fam

ambar simmering in BG

taayiji like OMFG what we gonna do hum kangaal ho jayenge

dairy toh maine aise hi……

bwahahahaha

ambar is fuckin livid when he realises

oh god they're teaming up now

adi leaving with papers

ambar takes it from them and phaad diya

ambar doing bechara acting and said I'm stopping you from making a mistake

taayiji saying ginni and fam will just interpret this as you trying to put a monetary value and purchase their sammaan

blah blah they keep at it to brainwash stupid adi

and he's like yeah we should do what's right for ginni

lmaoooooooooo he's like ok so imma just take the lawyer to ginni's and let her decide how she wants compensation

ambar and taayiji like asjkdksdjksjdksjk 50% jaane ko tha ab poora ka poora chala jayga haath se

hahahahahahahahahaha

ginni lamenting ke she went to that fam unhe apna maanke

but daarji and ambar always knew whose daughter she was

and just kept cheating her

poora ka poora Singh parivaar fraud hai

gulaabo ji is in alag lvl of rage

ek toh business kharaab kiya

upar se ladki ki life bhi

she's about to burn this shit down

daaaaayum idk who's writing this show but the female characters are chefs kiss 🤌🏽🤌🏽🤌🏽

I was scared gulaabo ji would be back on her shaadi vyaah bs telling ginni to forgive it's ok it's sasuraal

but clearly ginni gets her rage from her mom lol

gulaabo ji chaaku leke nikli threatening to murder them all

ginni like wtf stop

gulaabo like tu sasural ki ho gyi hai kya fckin decide whose side you're on

ginni finally gets knife away and says i wanna punish them too but not like this

we got till the diary, now we have to tell the truth to world

ki what these ppl did to us

we will do it together as a fam

we will get justice for papaji

police case court case jo chaahe karenge

and we willlllllll fuck them up

adi here with lawyer

lmao if looks could kill

adi would be a pile of ash on the floor like that dhaaba was 2 weeks ago

adi like i've brought him so you can do all the proceedings

gulaabo ji like we don't want a hissa of your paapi business

kyun karoon main deal with the murderers of my husband

i gave you such a precious thing of mine, my daughter

and you proved me wrong

ok but why everyone yelling at HIM

for what his dad and grandad did

woh toh bechaara iss mulk mein bhi nahi tha

usko dhakke maar ke nikaala tha uske baap ne

anyway poor lil baby adi *pats his head*

lots of khari khoti being sunaofied to him

ginni like pls leave

adi saying pls i really didn't know

since i found out i've been dying in guilt pls i really love you

ginni like if you love me then why didn't you tell me the truth

coz you were scared. not of losing me. but that your family ka truth will be exposed.

btw she's not yelling haan

bohut rage hai but she's talking calmly

ginni says if you really wanna give me something, give me justice

tell the world what your family did to mine

i don't want you to throw money at this

i want healing

kaun sayaana yeh show likh rha hai yaaar 😭😭😭

itna logic saha nahi jaa rha

ginni asking bolo de sakte ho this justice

that the world learns ki what caliber ka chef my dad was

adi like i'll do it i promise

thinks about how daarji is sick and fighting for his life and tells ginni not now, let him become ok

ginni says good you care for your fam

so even i will

and you're just using daarji as an excuse to emotionally blackmail

girl pls let's calm down

anyway she's like my family should keep suffering but yours shouldnt face any inconvenience

he's begging pls just give me time

anyway she calls out his stupid fuckin family for driving her dad to madness and asks for accountability from them

he's still promising justice but need some time

she's like ok fine then

only talk to me through lawyers

that's it

he's determined ki i'll do what I said

precap: daarji asking for ginni and adi saying she didn't come back she wants justice

taayiji angry and yelling she just wants badla from us

also there's an angry mob outside their house

and someone threw ink on daarji

[stinkykawas]

devil’s demise.

yandere!bakugo x reader  wattpad link : x archiveofourown link : x this book will contain lots of gory themes and  uncomfortable topics. if you are easily triggered by death, violence, self-harm, kidnapping, rape, and etc, please do not read. ————————————————————— you were sitting at lunch, enjoying the freshly packed lunch that contained [favorite food], [vegetable/snack], and [drink]. letting the cold air breeze through your white uniform shirt, you sighed and thought about your day. how dare this bastard talk to you again? he said he’d give you time to accept and think over his apology, but did he really mean it? what would he do if you accepted and forgave him? these thoughts clouded your mind, your now spilled drink going unnoticed till a few minutes later.  “shit,” you muttered. “i have to go inside to get a paper towel now.” sighing at your idiotic self, you got up, dusting the dirt from the rooftop off of your [pants/skirt], and headed inside with your lunchbox in hand just incase a thief decided to come along. scanning over the lunchroom, the place was packed with kids. people in large crowds or small ones gathered all around the room, filled with the stench of must, heat, and food. you scowled, your nose flaring up from it. ‘i’ll grab what i need and leave quickly,’ you hoped, not wanting to be in there for long. some of the tables you walked by, immediately gave you an idea of what their purpose was. the football team, basketball team, volleyball team, and soccer team sat on one side of the room at multiple tables all together. friends and other people hanging out at other brown, basic tables, you scanned over all of them until your eyes caught the attention of something. well, someone. bakugo sat at a table, his fake expression of annoyance plastered on his features. sat next to him were some males, and the rest were females who were under his “charming” spell, drooling and fighting with each other over the boy as if it was a war and bakugo was the last meal. his eyes met yours for a split second, causing you to speed up and head to the paper towel dispenser. not looking back, you pretended you didn’t see anything. bakugo’s pov [pronoun] might’ve thought bakugo didn’t see [pronoun], but he did. standing up, he scowled, looking at kirishima and sero. “i’ll be back, don’t follow me idiots. same goes for ya’ll,” he pointed at the girls. they squealed in response, the hearts in their eyes unmistakably visible. he rolled his eyes mentally. ‘basic. all of them.’ catching up to you rather quickly, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “hey, dum- [name],” he called, the change in his tone going from tough to soft rather quickly. [name] sighed, the nervous expression was painted on their face clearly even though [pronoun] tried to hide it. the blond ignored the look, because frankly, he didn’t give a flying fuck. he then proceeded to smirk at you, a smirk you knew all too well. “do you want me to treat you to dinner today? we can go while it’s bright out, but i don’t have to walk you home or anything. i could even-” he was going to propose something else, but you raised your hand. “bakugo, i don’t trust you. we’re like water and fire; opposite sides of one thing. i’ll have to decline,” [name] spoke, [pronoun]’s voice coming out in a whisper. “at least let me eat lunch with you tomorrow.” he begged, his red entrancing orbs traveling to the floor beside him. you sighed, paper towels clenched inside your hands, and a half-irritated look on your face. “fine. once. that’s it. and don’t forget anything, ‘cuz i’m not buying you shit.” you hissed, turning around. while you were walking off in hurried stomps, bakugo had a sinister grin on his face, his red eyes lighting up like a bomb. [pronoun]’ll be mine soon. these are the baby steps- the trial and error period. you’ll need me eventually, and love me. me only; me alone. nobody will treat you like i do. kirishima came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. “c’mon dude, lunch is over.” he said, the blonde boy’s head snapping towards the red-head’s. “eh? yeah. let’s go,” he said, his eyes traveled to sero, who was waving at the both of them to hurry it up. timeskip ; afterschool you walked home, sighing with your bag slung over your shoulder and your phone in your hand. swiping it open after entering the passcode, you went to open discord, seeing notifications and the dms you had gotten from your online friends. you had told them all about bakugo, since the time you were being bullied, you found that people on the internet, or at least some, were kind-hearted and always willing to help. clicking on your main groupchat, you typed in a message. levi saying pp [username] : i’m home bitches catboychrollo : HEYYY xiorra . : hey lol fagmentality : WASSUH [username] : bakugo asked me to lunch, wtf do i do catboychrollo : say yes, and then eat his food xiorra . : say no. fagmentality : say yes and then get the bank and the clout [username] : already said fine EL OH EL!!! :lizarddancing: [username] was removed from the groupchat. closing your phone, you laughed and rolled your eyes. ‘they’ll add me back later,’ you thought, pushing forward to get to your house. it wasn’t rich, but wasn’t poor either. a small 2 story house sat on the empty streets, cars passing by occasionally as you shuffled and pulled out your keys from your jacket pocket. but little did you know, someone was watching you. but who else could that be than the bakugo katsuki? trailing behind you from the bushes, he masked his presence and made little to no noise unless a car drove by. his eyes followed you intensively, as he wanted to make sure you got home safely. scratch that, you needed to get home safely. you needed him to watch over you for these types of things, so you wouldn’t get kidnapped or get hurt. his love couldn’t get hurt. he wouldn’t allow it. plus, his day was already shit. it was fine of him to do this for his own comfort, right? right? he had to go home to see the agonizing faces of his parents. going there was like stepping into an ice chamber; cold, painful, the air tense. he hated it. he hated them. they could never comfort him like you do. which is why he took comfort in you. you’d be the one to help him, for sure. and it all started with lunch tomorrow.

[smutsonian]

i hope you feel better soon ❤️❤️ what about a huge fight between you and ransom??

drabble about ransom being a pusi

ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: angst, lack of communication, drama bullshitery, me no likey proof reading

word count: around 1k

an: thank you @hnryycvll !! I feel much better now! Thanks for sending a request 💖✨ also hello wtf is wrong with me making long drabbles and calling them drabbles skkskska also! im tagging #30DaysOfChris2020 on this for @jtargaryen18 is dis allowed?

masterlist

You knew something was wrong when you walked into the house you shared with Ransom. The usually bright and cheerful aura that the house usually had was replaced with something that’s dark and gloomy. You thought that nobody was home because there was no Ransom greeting you like he usually would, may it be a kiss, a hug, or a full-on course meal. It doesn’t sound like him but that’s because he’s a totally different man when it comes to closed doors. Yeah, he’s not the type of person to talk about feelings or all that cheesy shit but he makes up for it with his actions.

After taking your coat and shoes off, you proceeded to walk towards the kitchen to get a glass of water after placing your purse on the counter. A few shuffling sounds from the living room caught your attention. You thought the house was empty but apparently not as Ransom was seating on one of the sofas, eyes skimming over a piece of paper with a frown.

You leaned on the doorway to watch him as you finished the glass of water. “Everything okay?” You give him a small smile as he looked at you, the hard look on his eyes disappearing a minuscule. “Yeah… Just a little family problem.” He lets out a sigh before gripping the paper and throwing it on the glass table in front of him.

“You wanna talk about it?” You knew he’s not one to talk but he seemed so bothered by whatever family problem it is. And frankly, you couldn’t bear to see him this way. “It’s a family problem, Y/N.” His harsh voice broke the silence and you had to ignore the pang you felt from his words. You weren’t married or anything but you were close to his parents, at least. Well, obviously he’s in a bad mood so you wouldn’t hold it against him. “Just… Leave me alone to think.” He grumbles under his breath before taking the paper and rereading it over and over as if the words would change if he would just read it for an nth time again. A loud sigh comes from him and you could see angry tears falling down his eyes only to be wiped harshly with the sleeves of his sweater.

You let out a sigh before walking cautiously towards him. “Y/N, please don’t. Leave me alone. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” He holds a hand up towards you, preventing you from going nearer the sofa he’s on. You stopped in your tracks before watching his face, searching for any signs that he’s actually fine but there was none. “Ransom…” You took a slow step closer. “You don’t look fine. You know you can talk to me, right? I’m here for whatever it is you’re going through. Your problem is my problem too.” You gave him a smile that was hopefully supportive. All you really wanted to do was make him feel that he’s not alone and that he shouldn’t have to battle his every problem alone. You wanted to calm him down and prevent an angry Ransom.

You failed.

He crumpled the paper in his hands as he sharply turned his head towards you before glaring. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you fucking understand?” He raised his voice and you held a hand up in surrender before shaking your head. “I was just trying to help—” Your quiet voice was cut off by another round of screams from him. “What the hell can you do about my problem? Harlan fucking died and turns out, he fucking removed me from his will.”

Your eyes widened from his words. “Harlan died?” You met the man once or twice but knowing that he died reminded you how life really works. “Oh god. Ransom, I’m so sorry to hear that—” Yet again, your rambling got cut off by your angry boyfriend. “Don’t act like you care, okay?” He rolled his eyes at you before glaring back at the paper in his hands. “I do care, Ransom!” You said, silently pleading for him to believe you.

He scoffs before tossing you the crumpled paper, hitting your face, and falling towards your hands. “He didn’t leave anything for me. I get nothing and I’ll be too fucking poor to afford you.” You see his eyes flutter before turning to glare at the glass table. You looked at the paper before looking back at him with confusion. “Afford me? What are you talking about?” You asked, hoping to every god out there that he didn’t mean what you think he means. “It means that you’ll leave me once I no longer have the money to keep you.” He looks at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You blinked at him before shaking your head. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that because I know you’re upset. Ransom, losing someone is hard to believe. Let alone accept but you’ve got me. You’ve got your parents—” You were starting to think that it was cut Y/N off day. “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Y/N. Don’t get my hopes up, alright? I know when the moment things start to get rough because I can’t buy—” It was your turn to cut him off.

“Is that what you think of me? You think I’m with you for your money?” You did your best to sound unbothered but the crack in your voice was pretty evident. He turned to look at you with softer eyes before it went back to that glare. “Oh, there’s no way you’re going to make this about you.” He scoffs and made a move to stand up but stopped when you started raising your voice at him.

“This has always been about you, Ransom. Everything I do, I do for you! I bought this house for us so your family won’t be able to say something about you being an adult trust fund baby because I know how that makes you feel even if you won’t talk about it. Even if you won’t talk about anything. I work because I want to save up for our future.” Ransom’s eyes widened at the last sentence before you started mumbling. “Sue me for wanting to be there for you.” You looked at him with desperate eyes as you walked closed to grab his big hands gently. “Why can’t you just accept the help I’m offering you? Why can’t you just let me in?” You pulled his hands towards your lips before pressing a soft kiss on it.

He sighs heavily before shaking his head and lowering his head. “Just leave me alone, Y/N. I need space.” He tries to pull his hands away but your grip was tight. You watched as teardrops started falling down his eyelashes and staining his sweatpants. You groaned before lifting his chin up and caressing his face. “I can’t just stand here and do nothing when you’re clearly not fine, Ransom. Please don’t push me away.” You leaned down to kiss him but he turned his face to the side, making your hands fall from his face. “Just leave me alone, please.” He pleads before turning his attention towards you when you didn’t move. “I said leave me the fuck alone!” He screams in your face, making you flinch in the slightest.

You stepped back before pressing your lips together into a tight line. “Fine.” You started walking towards the kitchen to get your purse before walking towards the front door. You took your coat and started putting it on when Ransom appeared in front of you. “Pl—” He tried to say something but you beat him to it. “Just to make things clear… This is not me leaving you.” You walk towards him before poking a finger towards his chest. “This is you pushing me away.”

Ransom watched as you walked out the door but why did it feel like it wasn’t the only thing you were walking out on?

[im-bipolar-but-thats-okay]

Love, Pt 3.

Like a bad DBZ episode it has taken us awhile to get to the end of my love life. So grab your boo or your favorite Pokemon stuffed animal and snuggle up for my great finale.

The One I Can’t Let Go Why can’t I let go? Well because on paper he is perfect. He is devilishly handsome, actually used to model. He is funny and goofy. He likes all the same stuff I do, Pokemon and Star Wars. He is intelligent and always keeps a good conversation. His smile makes me smile and his laugh makes me laugh. He has a good career and is even going to school. He is my perfect sexual match. PERFECT. He makes me feel taken care of and like I don’t need to worry about anything because he is going to make sure it is okay. He is a good father to his Pitbull, and she is just as adorable as he is. But the demon hurt him. I hurt him. And things were never the same. I don’t fully blame myself. He has a lot of issues, too. When he is upset, he pushes me away. I cannot tell you how many times he has broken up with me. When he is mad, he is cold. He went as far as to call my knuckle tattoos trashy. Asshole, those are one of my favorite tattoos. I could easily fill a notebook with the ways he has hurt me, like the time he abandoned me in New York City. I could easily fill a notebook with the ways I hurt him, like the time I destroyed his apartment. And I could easily fill a notebook about the things I love about him, like the way he always wants to sit next to me at a restaurant and not across from me. Or the way he says my name in Spanish. Or the way he winks at me and it always makes me blush. I even love the story of how we met. Probably should have started there but here we go. I was drunk off my ass, hanging out with a girlfriend in downtown Denton. We had leftovers from our dinner, but we were too lazy to walk back to the car. As we were approaching the venue for a show my friend of a friend’s band was going to play at, I raised the box above my head and said, “Does anyone want this food?” A husky man replied, “Is it poisoned?” The husky man was his friend. There were three of them. They were there to see their friend’s band play. We talked a little but then my girlfriend and I went inside. I was dancing and having fun when they found us. My girlfriend was trying to flirt with him, and I was in my own little world. I had no idea he was looking at me the whole night. Eventually, he bought me a shot and I proceeded to make out with him. He asked for my number and I said no. Instead, I added him on Facebook. For some reason, drunk me thought it was safer to add him than to give him my number. My girlfriend and I disappeared into the night to another bar. He messaged me that he had to leave but wanted to see me before he left. I gave him the wrong bar name, not on purpose. I was really fucked up. But he eventually found me. I was flirting with another guy at a table. He walked right up to me and gave me the most passionate kiss. The other guy stormed off. To be honest, I did not think much of the One I Can't Let Go at first. I really saw him as just another guy who wanted to fuck me. Conceited, I know. The first time we actually hung out, and I was sober, I fell in love almost instantly. He was so much deeper than I had thought. Fast-forward to three years later, so much pain and so much happiness. Most of my family and friends don't like him. Most of his family and friends don't like me. But I don’t care. I still love him. As I type through my tears, I know his darkness is not enough for me to let him go.

The Speed Bump Last but not least. Actually, yeah. He is the least. Fuck him. He dumped me because of my depression/bipolar and my alcohol problems. The last time I broke up with the One I Can’t Let Go it was because we seem to want different things for our future. I actually don’t think he knows what he wants for his future. Anyways, I went on a hunt for someone basically just like him on several dating apps. I even tried Chispa. (Chispa is a dating app for Latinos. Chispa means spark in Spanish.) I met the Speed bump on Bumble. At first, I felt medium about him. His pictures were okay. They showed a goofy side but no clear pics of his face. What really got me was his bio. It seemed like he was actually looking for a real relationship and not just a hook up. We talked a bit but things kind of slowed down. I was connecting more with another guy. When my uncle died from Covid, I was silent on all my apps for a day or two while I cried and took depression naps. Then I started talking to Speed bump again. I needed to not feel alone. The second time around we really hit it off. We started hanging out almost every day. He even took me on a trip to Austin for my birthday. I was slowly falling in love even though we had only dated for 3 months. It wasn’t anything like the One I Can’t Let Go. It was calmer, tame. But for a while it was really nice. I started to daydream about a future with a husband and Spanish-speaking babies again. But things turned dark one night. I got too drunk, big surprise. I made a mistake or, rather, several. He didn’t talk to me for 2 days. When he finally did, I thought we came out stronger than ever. But I guess I didn’t change fast enough for him. Then I started my blog and I think that scared him away too. He dumped me and it was bad. We were at a restaurant! We spent the whole day together. I actually thought we were having a good day, but I guess he was just trying to hold it in, and he couldn’t anymore. I’m still pretty bitter about the whole situation. A part of me feels betrayed and I feel like he was blaming me for a lot of his own issues. I was really hurt by it, but not hurt enough to put a hex on him. Now, I’m going to use this opportunity to be petty and talk shit. First, he had really bad teeth. I actually almost didn’t go out on a second date with him because his teeth were so bad. It really bothered me in the beginning and I wish I would’ve listened to my shallow end that time. I mean, I am horrible at brushing my teeth, but, daaaaaamn, they were bad. Sometimes he pooped without flushing. I witnessed this twice. Like WTF. You are way too old to not be flushing the toilet. His car was really shitty. He had just bought a house, so I guess he didn’t have a lot of money for a new car, but he also had two roommates who paid rent. I just feel like at 30 years old, we should not be worrying if your car is going to start or not. The sex was blah. It was good, but it was very vanilla. And one of the biggest things I struggled with was that his stepped and brother were racist. They dropped the N-word a lot and with the "-er" at the end. He was just okay with it? I don’t fully understand how you can just be okay with it. The first time I heard his brother say that, I was mortified. I was so upset I ran to his room and started crying. I had to call my really good friend who is black but also basically my little brother. He calmed me down and told me to get out of there. The Speed bump told me he wanted his brother to be “comfortable” in his own home, which I guess means you get free rein to be a racist. I don’t know, man. It made it really hard to be around his family though and made me question him. You know what? It was short-lived, but it wasn’t too bad. I think it brought my attention towards my struggle with alcohol, so I guess that’s a good thing. Now that I look back, I'm kind of glad it is over and didn't last long. That is why he is called the Speed bump.

So that’s it! All the guys I have ever dated. The ones I loved and the one I didn’t. Fifteen years of dating and I have made many mistakes. I’ve lived many lives and I definitely have plenty of stories to tell. What is next? I don’t know. We will see. Maybe in a couple of months I will make a new post about the next guy who broke my heart. 

[ncitytexts]

Flutter.

SUMMARY: you never knew the reason why your heart always fluttered with the boy you had grown up with all your life.

PAIRING: jeno x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff! neighbor!jeno & bestfriend!jeno; friends to lovers au

WORDS: 2.3k.. like exactly 2.3k

WARNINGS: like. a speck of angst in the middle.

A/N: it kinda follows the american school system bc that’s the ... only school system i know LOL but alSO i usually write only soft hours aaaa but lets start off with my first fic with the one n only ... lee jeno hehe

Ever since you moved into your new neighborhood, only one person pops into your mind: Lee Jeno.

He was there when you first moved in, offering you a cookie his mom baked as you timidly clung on to your dad’s leg.

“Go on, sweetie. He’s going to be your future neighbor!”

Slowly approaching the long-limbed, yet small boy, he quickly took your hand in his and started to shake it. “Hello! My name’s Jeno. What’s your name?”

Little did you know that your encounter with Jeno would turn out to be the first of many, many other ones.

You had just turned six years old, and you were going to start your first day of first grade soon. Your mom insisted that you take the bus, calling it a way to  “make new friends”, but being the introvert that you were, it was your worst nightmare. Lightly tugging at your backpack, your mom said, “Come on, sweetheart, you’ll be okay!” You held back tears, and pecked your mom on the cheek before stepping on the bus.

The bus driver gave you a kind smile, but that did nothing to ease your nervousness. You walked down the cramped aisle filled with legs that stuck out and glittery backpacks and looked for lone seats; instead, you spot your neighbor, Jeno. At the same time, he spots you too, and gives you one of his iconic crescent eye smiles. 

“Come sit here, Y/N! We can be seat buddies for school!”

“O-o-okay!”

That was the first time Lee Jeno made your heart flutter.

You’re now twelve, but instead of your first day of first grade, it’s your first day of middle school. Jeno not only had found a new group of friends, but also became one of the biggest heartthrobs in the entire school. He had become good looking and was so tall that he towered over you at times. But still, he never forgot to hang out with you. He often came over to your house most nights to play games with you on your older brothers’ game consoles. He always went on ice cream runs with you and your mom, always yelling to his parents that “he’s off to get ice cream with Mrs. Y/L/N again!” Most importantly, he still rode the bus to and from school with you, insisting that he was your “eternal seat buddy”. 

However, when you stepped on the bus this morning, he wasn’t there in your usual seats, so you ending up walking to your locker alone in the morning.

“I ... can’t ... get ... this ... stupid ... combi-”

All of a sudden, another pair of hands land on your lock, and you look up to find the one and only, Lee Jeno.

“I’m sorry that I was gone this morning ... what’s your combination? I’m sure I could open it.” Jeno says, while giving you another one of his genuine smiles.

Smiling at his genuine willingness to help, you say, “Trust me, Jeno. I might have a better chance at going to the office instead. My dad literally scribbled it down this morning and it could be passed off as a kid’s handwriting. Plus, what if you’re late for class?”

Jeno lets out a laugh and says, “Don’t worry about my classes! Can you read out the combination for me then?” 

“I think it should be 29-10-35,” you hesitantly say, looking down at the crumpled piece of paper in your hands, attempting to decipher your dad’s rushed handwriting. Jeno questioningly looks at you and snatches the paper out of your hands to stick it up to the closest window, as if he believed the sunlight would help him read the messy, loopy handwriting better. Suddenly, he lets out a “Ha!” and hands you back the paper. Jeno turns back to the lock on your locker while whispering, “It’s actually 28,” Click. “19,” Click. “36.” Click.

With one swift motion, he was able to get both the lock in his hands and your locker door wide open. You glance at the nearest clock and it reads 7:58 AM, giving you two minutes before class starts.

“See? I told you I would open it on time. Now, hurry up and get your books! I don’t think all the girls in this school would be fond of you if you were to be late to homeroom with me.” Jeno says with a smirk before holding his hand out to you, ready to sprint to class with you hand-in-hand.

That cocky boy, you thought. Grabbing your textbook and slamming your locker shut, you stuck your lock back on and placed your hand on Jeno’s.

The moment Jeno whisked you away to homeroom with your hand in his is the second time he made your heart flutter.

The ripe age of sixteen has arrived, and your friendship with Jeno has altered in ways that you didn’t expect. For one, Jeno got his license earlier than most kids in the junior class as he had an earlier birthday while your birthday was stuck in the summer, so you weren’t able to get it as quickly. So instead of riding the bus every morning with Jeno, he swore that he would take you to school every morning, which of course, was approved by your parents immediately. Two, junior year was taking a toll on the both of you, so your nightly visits through each other’s windows were shortened to once a week. However, today you had promised Jeno that you would meet him at his house for an AP Biology test study session.

You knocked on his door three times, one time with a pause, proceeded by two quick ones. With this knock, Jeno is sure that you’re the one on the other side of the door, and not another girl from school asking for his number.

“Ah! Y/N! Ready to grind on some bio?” 

Looking back up into his eyes, you lose balance, not realizing that you blanked out and didn’t even notice the door opening. You lean forward a little in an attempt to regain your balance, but your knees lock instead. Jeno steadies you by holding onto your waist, and says, “You okay?” You nod almost instantly, cheeks reddening out of embarrassment.

You take off your shoes before entering Jeno’s house and you’re instantly greeted by his mom. “Oh! Y/N! Jeno didn’t tell me you were coming,” she says while wiping off her hands with a towel, “I would’ve made you guys my neighborhood famous cookies!” She winks jokingly and you respond, “Your cookies are just too good, Mrs. Lee. I was all over them when you brought them over last week!” with a smile as Mrs. Lee approaches you for a hug. 

“Hey! Don’t think I’ll let you steal her heart from me!”

Before you can give Mrs. Lee a nice “I’m-glad-to-see-you-again” hug, you turn around to find Jeno leaning against the stairs. Realizing he saw the entire encounter, you smirk at him, saying, “And what if I do? Your mom is just so sweet!” You can hear Mrs. Lee laugh behind you as Jeno walks up to the both of you and says, “You’ll have to steal my heart before you can steal my mom’s!”

When Jeno said that, it was the third time he made your heart flutter.

Jeno then takes your hand and says, “Okay, mom, I’m gonna go study upstairs with Y/N. We have our AP Biology test soon and I don’t think you want us getting two’s. Bye! Love you!” Mrs. Lee responds with a “Mhm.” before Jeno leads you back up to his room, with your hand still in his. 

Once you step foot into his room, a wave of memories hit you. 

“Tsk. Y/N, are you climbing through my window again?”

Midway through his window, you say, “Sorry, I’m home alone again. And I keep hearing weird noises! Jeno, I’m just scared.” Jeno looks up from his school project that’s scattered all over his desk with a glue stick in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. “So, what do you want me to do? Cut them apart with scissors? Snip snip!” 

After you helped Jeno with his Egyptian project for his presentation on Monday, you found the both of you staring at his ceiling, adorned by glow-in-the-dark plastic stars and planets. You began to fall asleep while Jeno was talking, and the last thing you remember is Mrs. Lee whispering to you that “your parents are here to get you”.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Oh my god, she’s a goner.” Jeno says while vigorously trying to snap his fingers in front of your face. You grab his hand and say, “Stop it, you dork, I need more help on cellular respiration. I can’t remember any of the products again.” Jeno makes a sound in agreement and you feel buzzes coming from your phone in your back pocket.

[2:03 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: hey y/n where are you rn?

[2:03 PM] diane💃🏻: yeah where you at bro? let’s go get ice cream!

[2:03 PM] y/n: oh i’m @ jeno’s rn for ap bio. guys i cannot fail

[2:04 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: WHat YOU’RE AT JENOS

[2:04 PM] diane💃🏻: WAIT DO U MEAN T HE LEE JENO

[2:04 PM] diane💃🏻: BRO WTF GET US HIS NUMBER

[2:04 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: ^^^ agreed!!!!!1

[2:05 PM] y/n: guys i can’t just give y’all his number thats just creepy

[2:05 PM] juuuudy🧚🏻‍♀️: bro wtf.... do u like him or smth?

Before you can type out a reply to Judy’s text, Jeno whisks your phone away from your hands. “Hey! Give me my phone back!” you say, trying to get it from his hands, but his height allows him to keep it held high above his head while he attempts to read the texts that you sent. All of a sudden, he stops resisting you and hands your phone back. Confused, you’re prepared to tease him as to why he gave into you, but you’re interrupted by Jeno saying, “Do you like me?”

Shocked and unable to answer, you were only able to spit out an “I don’t know.” You had never felt this nervous before, as you’ve never thought of it that way. But perhaps, you do have feelings for him. Jeno, clearly confused and also unable to answer, simply says with a straight face, “Let’s just get to work on AP Bio. You said you needed help anyways,” before turning back to his desk.

Instead of a fluttering heart, your heart broke into a million pieces.

But what you didn’t know is that he really had just hoped that you said you liked him.

It’s been two years after he asked if you liked him, and it’s never left your mind. Jeno ended up acting like nothing had happened anyways.

Now, both you and Jeno are eighteen. Your graduation is set to happen tomorrow afternoon, and you’re getting a whole wave of nervousness running throughout your body. Trying on dress after dress, Jeno sits in your room clearly bored and swiping mindlessly on his phone. When you finally find a V-neck dress that’s just the right length and adorned with a floral pattern, you step out of your bathroom to show Jeno.

Noticing that his eyes are still glued to his phone, you say, “Jeno? Hello?” He still doesn’t look up, so you decide to spit out nicknames you knew he wouldn’t like. “Jeno-jaem! Loser! Momma’s boy!” is the three nicknames that finally get his attention.

“Dude, you know I hate that nick-”

Jeno’s mouth gapes open as he looks you up and down. You notice his ears getting slightly red when you say, “So? Is this the dress I should wear?” Stuttering, Jeno replies, “U-u-uh, yeah.” You look at him suspiciously and mumble, “Okay, I guess not then.” As you turn back to the bathroom to change, he quickly grabs your hand and says, “What I meant is that you look beautiful in it. Absolutely stunning in it.” 

You can feel yourself blush. His hand is still holding yours, and after a few seconds of silence, you feel yourself suddenly asking the same daring question he asked two years ago.

“Do you like me?”

Expecting a rejection, you let go of his hand and turn back around. However, this time, he pulls your hand back into a tight hug and says, “Maybe I do. And maybe I’ve liked you since the first time I met you.”

It’s finally the day of your graduation, and you’re lucky enough to be sitting next to Jeno. While sitting on white chairs lined up across the stadium’s field, you can feel all eyes on you and Jeno. Ever since last night, Jeno has been close to you, making all the girls around you become filled with instant jealousy and envy.

You look down in your lap and play with your fingers nervously when you hear Jeno say, “Don’t worry about them. I know you think they’re all looking at you, but if it makes you feel better, you’re the only one I’m looking at.” Looking back up into his eyes, you give him the biggest smile accompanied with a blush.

Once the speeches are given and the diplomas are handed out, the principal makes the final, iconic line said at every graduation. Immediately afterwards, the stadium is filled with cheers and yells, as you and Jeno throw your graduation caps up into the air. You both stand up facing each other when he finally makes the bold move to take your face in his hands and connect your plush lips with his.

His simple, yet loving action was the fourth time your heart fluttered for him; except, this time, you know why it was fluttering.

[prorevenge]

Boy meets girl

I often pressed V for information on how she earned income but she would give conflicting answers about grants and scholarships until one day.... About 6 months after our first meeting, she finally tells me and IT. IS. NOT. GOOD. I was interviewing at a professional school when I receive the call, she's in trouble, BIG TROUBLE, and needs my help. She tells me she earns money by doing others' assignments for them. $200 to write a paper and $800 to complete an online class, usually a 100 level introductory course. She describes the method she uses to circumvent the ITs detection of others completing others assignment and how her client wasn't doing his part to copy/paste and submit from his own computer. He is failing the course and blames her. He threatens to turn her in. Her plan is to refund his money and wants me to 'follow him to see if he goes somewhere alone and take his phone' because that has all the evidence of their communications. HOLY SHIT! SHE WANTS ME TO COMMIT STRONG ARMED ROBBERY, a FELONY for her! I'm not going down for this or with her and I know nobody would believe me. ENTER: military experience - if there's no record, it didn't happen. So, I agree to help her, somehow, as soon as I return to town. I go to V's dorm the next night and she shows me EVERYTHING. Her list of clients, their blackboard passwords, how she meets them, how she defends them during honor code violations, etc. So I tell her not to worry, I'll handle everything on the day she refunds his money. Relieved, she goes to bed but before she lays down I ask to use her computer for on assignment and she says "sure do whatever you want". In my state, if you let someone use your electronics, its called "having privilege" and anything you do with their computer which may harm them is legal as if it your own computer. So, I took screenshots of her conversations with her clients, I open google settings and screenshot all the blackboard users and passwords stored on her computer. I go to her messenger and screenshot their conversations. Back home, I compiled our recordings and saved our facebook conversations. A week later, I made up an argument about an upcoming New Years Party and broke up with her. Then sat on the information I had on hand for 2 more weeks thinking about what I should do.

I remembered how she has a history of arrests from high school to freshman year for stealing from outlet malls and selling their loot online. Never formally charged. She, of course, omitted this from her application into professional school. How she admitted "finding a mark" and using them to pass her courses. How she denigrated others who were completing courses through hard work. How she used her position as honor council to get her friends out of trouble while helping to expel others for doing exactly what she was doing. How she cheated on me multiple times, used me, manipulated me, tried to make me commit a felony and ruin my life. SHE HAD TO BE STOPPED.

Knowing she was friends with the faculty on the honor council, they often bought each other gifts, I had to go above their heads. I gave names and descriptions of the events to my program director. He then goes to the honor council, anyway. I was called into the honor council's head office of "Corrupt Administrator" CA. CA tells me I should delete the information I have because it could become a civil matter and I should consider my "self preservation." She schedules another meeting with me a week later. I return and she asks if I want to make a statement about V. Guess what I said, I tell her "no, I deleted everything and I don't remember" because I was in the military and I know how to 'play ball' when superiors tell you to shut your mouth. But the most important reason I decided to not file against V directly was due to the fact I was applying for a military scholarship to pay for professional school. Since I did not follow through, the program director filed an honor code violation complaint against V on a date [suggested by CA]. A month later they tell me their investigation was inconclusive and they will close the case due to the director waiting 1 day too long to file according to the school's academic policy. CA set us up! However, since the director used my name as a source, they must notify V because students have rights to know their accusers. FUCK.MY.LIFE. CA fucked me and ruined any chance for a case against V based on a technicality. Now I fear for my safety because V tried to get me to strong arm rob someone now I just implicated a dozen cheaters who have as much as her to lose. CA schedules a meeting with V and tell her about an ongoing investigation and tells her she will be kept up-to-date. I know the investigation is over and now they are just doing formalities. V requests the information of the investigation and they promise to email it to her. V calls me for support even though we aren't together. She is crying and talking about killing herself. She tells me her dad had been paying for her college this whole time and starts coming clean with other lies. I feel bad and almost regret everything. Maybe she is not a sociopath, maybe she is really sorry. She stays at my house the next few days, I'm watching her trying to keep it together. THEN HER FUCKING CLIENTS START COMING TO MY HOUSE. She is still doing their assignments! She NEVER LEARNS!

Finally she gets the investigation info and there's my name. She calls me 130 times in 3 days, sends her friends to my classes to tell me to come to her house, finally I do. But I don't go into her room because she will trap me. She takes my phone so I can't record. She tries to get me to sign a paper saying I fabricated everything and its all false. I tell V, "They already closed the investigation, you wont get in any trouble why should I implicate myself and get in trouble? It wont solve anything!" And she pleads, "Do you still love me?" I shake my head and walk out. Two days later, police are waiting at my house to serve a 72 hour emergency protective order (EPO) commanding me to stay away from V. I know what she is up to. She is trying to get me to violate the protective order, discredit me, and send me to jail. Its very easy to lie to create one and lie to say it was violated.

NOW ITS NOT JUST REVENGE TIME, ITS WAR

Here's the plot twist: I never really deleted the files as I told CA. TYVM, Google drive.

After the 72 hours EPO expired, another EPO arrives which lasts two years but requires a court appearance. This is a huge problem because I am in the US Army reserves and it requires the handling of firearms which is illegal under an EPO. Her lawyer calls me and threatens me not to "participate in anymore investigations against her" and sends a paper tiger. I get a lawyer, lets name him "Folds like a lawn chair". He tells me "who will they believe: a pretty girl or you?" I fire him. Get a better lawyer, a trial lawyer, called "Miss Badass Esq." and prepare for war. Miss Badass requests a copy of V's EPO from the court. It essentially says I was blackmailing her, threatening to beat her up, and I broke into her room to steal incriminating information against her. All lies. I provide my lawyer the entire history of our relationship: 600 pages of facebook and text messages showing she is the aggressor, the abuser, in the relationship, phone call history, all the recordings and screenshots of her cheating ring. I make a poster sized chart of her room and the events that transpire there the day in question when she tried to trap me into signing a statement taking responsibility for her actions.

Courtdate: We made V and her lawyer look REALLY stupid. They were going with the 'pretty girl' strategy. But the dorm gave us records showing she was signing me in and out of her room, so it discredits the need to break in. The call logs: 130 times in 3 days and aggressive texts showed she wasn't actually afraid of me adn it was her, not me, being aggressive. And when he asked what I had to use to blackmail her, her lawyer said "just some tutoring papers" for which the judge said, "that doesn't sound like anything wrong. What power did that give him over you?" They had no response. My turn to speak, I explain how she tried to get me to rob a guy, how she wanted me to write a letter to take the blame, how she used her position as honor council chair to break state law and violate academic policy. And summarized we were only there because she wanted revenge on me. I watched V and her lawyer stutter and squirm uncomfortably under the judges questioning, case dismissed.

All that information I gathered to defend myself was not going to go to waste. I took it to a newly hired honor council investigator called "Meg" who had no affiliation with V. I told her what CA had done to defend V. A week later, I was told the by Meg there had been a meeting with the school police, the provost, their legal team, then the provost himself decided filed a complaint against V. I had to meet with the police to file a statement about V trying to recruit me to rob someone but other than that I was out of the loop. I later learned the results: V lost her her slot at that school's professional program, her program director yelled at her at the top of his lungs, "YOU WILL NEVER GO TO ********* SCHOOL, I KNOW ADMISSIONS AND I WILL SEE TO IT", she got expelled, her TWO degrees (biomedical engineering and biology with a minor in chemistry) were withheld for 6 years and her transcripts would carry a permanent mention of an honor code violation, her clients who graduated had their degrees retracted with similar mentions on their transcripts, and current clients were also expelled. The school changed its policy on reporting date requirements to like 60 or 90 days. Me? I am in professional school. V had her chance to get away with all of this until she tried to get revenge on me. I reduced this super villain from owning a fleet of beta male minions, being the most connected person in the university, and having a lucrative future in ripping people off in the medical industry to the last time I saw her: riding a fucking scooter.

(source) story by (/u/Apophis1942)

[cryoculus]

Can I have an au where kuroo and the reader have a one night stand. But then turns out he is her child's teacher.

» Word Count: 1,562 words

akjsksjadksjdk idk i thought this was better if it’s in kuroo’s perspective. I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you enjoy! P.S blockquotes are so ugly on tumblr mobile I Cringed.

“I’ll be keeping an eye out for him, Oikawa,” Kuroo chuckles, patting his old friend on the shoulder while handing him his child, Hayato’s report card. The former setter huffs at the contact, slinging a protective arm over his shoulder. 

“Don’t talk to me or my son ever again,” he hisses, while his student berates his father. (“Dad, you’re embarrassing me.”)

As the peculiar duo exits the classroom, Kuroo can see Iwaizumi waiting by the door. Hayato engulfs his other father in an embrace, telling Iwaizumi something out of his earshot. Kuroo smiles to himself before standing up to call out the next parent he has to talk to. 

He scans his class list for whoever’s next after Iwaizumi Hayato, and calls out:

“Izumi-san?” He pops his head in the hallway with a hand on the doorframe. His eyes dart around a bit, segregating through familiar faces of parents he’s shared some words with before. Izumi Chiharu is quite a bright student, never really getting into any form of trouble. For a sixth grader, she’s quite keen with her surroundings, and performs really well in school. He’s heard that she’s going to be enrolled in Shiratorizawa for junior high, even. 

Eventually, Kuroo spots Chiharu, who catches his eye, gesturing that her mother is in the restroom. He nods before going back inside the classroom, shutting the door behind him. 

Kuroo treads back to the seat behind his desk, rolls his neck around until he hears a satisfying crack! His eyes settle in the classroom in front of him. Come to think of it, he wouldn’t envision himself as a grade school teacher when he was in his third year of high school, much more a homeroom teacher. Though some may have pointed out that he guided his teammates well back then, handling a class of twelve year-olds is completely different story. Yet here he is, lounging inside an empty classroom, handing out his students’ report cards to their parents.

His musing is interrupted by the sound of a soft knock on the door. When it slides, Chiharu peeks from the opening before coming inside and settling in her given seat in class. Kuroo gives her a lopsided grin, to which she reacts by looking outside the window instead. She may be a reliable student, but she sure is an introvert. She kind of reminds him of Kenma sometimes.

“Ah, Kuroo-san, sorry,” comes the voice of Chiharu’s mother, presumably. Kuroo doesn’t look at her right away, but when he does, his eyes become as wide as a doe’s caught in headlights. 

Thick tufts of hair gliding between his fingers, before roughly pulling on them. Skin as smooth as silk as he left love bites in his wake. Eyes so deep, he swears he can get lost in them. The intoxicating scent that invaded his nostrils, making him yearn for more –

“Kuroo-san?” He flinches at your voice, shaking his head out of the hazy memory. When he takes a good look at you, you’re wearing dark-washed jeans and a white blouse. Your face is devoid of heavy makeup, having only settled for light lipstick and a dash of color to your cheeks. Is this woman in front of him the person from last week? She can’t be.

“Kuroo-san,” you repeat, more firm this time. You don’t seem to be baffled with his presence in front of you. Do you not recognize him?

“A-Ah, good morning, Izumi-san. Please take a seat.” He forcefully evens out his tone because he ate up enough time gawking at you. 

You nod with a wary look in your eyes, eyebrow quirked in wonder as you sit down directly in front of him. Kuroo fumbles with the report cards on his table, and he curses himself for not organizing the pile alphabetically. When he manages to find Chiharu’s, he hands them to you. 

“Chiharu’s a good kid. She doesn’t really get called out like some of her classmates are, and she even does an exemplary performance in her academics.” He clears his throat, avoiding your eyes as much as he can. “There’s not much to discuss, since her grades are of high caliber as well. Probably just take her out for lunch or reward her for good measure.”

Your eyes scan the paper in front of you, smiling when you see the fruit of your daughter’s hard work. You carefully place the report card inside your bag, standing up to bow at him. 

“My daughter’s in good hands I see,” you grin, and…fuck. It is you. The curve of your lips, the mischievous glint in your eye – you’re Salacious Serena. 

Kuroo swallows thickly, gaze alternating between you and Chiharu. He wonders if she knows that her mother works in a high-end brothel in the city’s red light district. She probably does. Twelve is a good age to tell your kid that you’re one of Tokyo’s most popular courtesans. 

Admittedly, Kuroo isn’t a fan of having one night stands. He thinks it’s pathetic, laying with someone you barely know. But when Bokuto just happened to drag him all the way to the most vile part of town for the owl’s birthday, he finds himself unable to tear his eyes off the stripper that gave him a lap dance out of Bokuto’s request. 

When you were done with him, there was a tent in his trousers, and his mouth was agape. Before you left their booth, though, you slipped a piece of paper in the pocket of his shirt.

“You’re pretty cute. You deserve my number,” you smirked, patting his cheek before exiting with an enticing sway to your scantily clad hips. 

Bokuto whistled. “Salacious Serena has it bad for you, bro!”

“What?” he asked his best friend, who proceeded to explain that every stripper in this joint went by an alias, and that you happened to be the most highly paid prostitute in town. He didn’t like the way Bokuto worded it out, but he suppose that’s the most straightforward way to describe it. 

Then a little later that week, he called you, you went over to his place, and everything hitched off pretty well from there. He insisted that he paid you for coming on such late notice, but you made him keep his money, and said that it was on you. 

“Say, where do you work again, Tetsu?” You asked him, tracing vague shapes on his bare chest.

“I work at that elementary school uptown. I’m a teacher,” he replied with nonchalance. 

Your ears perked up at that. “Oh? Do you happen to teach Class 6-A?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Spot on. How’d you know?”

You giggled, pecking his lips as you got up to get dressed. “I’m a good guesser.”

That answer hardly satisfied him, but he left it at that. Even if it wasn’t paid, he still treated it as a business transaction. He needn’t ask questions that weren’t relevant to the ordeal.

As you opened the door to his bedroom, you looked back at him with a simper. “This won’t be the last you’ll see of me, Tetsu.” 

But before he could ask what you meant by that, you already shut the door behind you. Today, he finally found out what you were talking about that night.

“Kuroo-san, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The smile that plays on your lips borders on taunting, but he can’t exactly lose his cool with Chiharu in the room. 

“U-Uh, no, not at all,” he stammers, beads of sweat beginning to trickle down the side of his face. “I just think the next parent’s waiting outside.”

You nod in understanding before turning to your daughter. “Haru-chan, let’s go. There’s a game that you wanted to buy at the toy store, right? Let’s go grab some lunch, too.” 

Immediately, Chiharu is by your side, holding your hand with an excited glint in her eyes. Huh. So she’s into video games.

“Thank you very much, Kuroo-san.” You bow before leaving the classroom with your daughter in tow. This time, you don’t spare him any of your suggestive looks, your attention solely on Chiharu, who’s telling you all about the game she wanted. 

When he’s left once more in the solitude of the classroom, he receives a text from…Kenma?

Kuro, you teach at Tokyo Elementary, right?

He furrows his eyebrows. 

yea, y? whereve u been i havent seen u in ages

Work. I have a daughter, if you want to know. Is the card distribution done?

wtf ?????????!!!!!!

Yes. I’m sorry I only told you now. I’m not with her mom, but I still support them however I can.

kenma what the fuck how old is the kid

She’s in sixth grade now, so…twelve, maybe. 

Something akin to dread materializes in the pit of his stomach, as Chiharu’s face pops in his head – introverted, calculative, into video games…

……….is her last name izumi or somethin

Yes. Do you know her? I’m in the city, and I’m going to have lunch with her and her mother.

Kuroo stuffs his phone back in the pocket of his pants, not wanting to lengthen the first conversation he’s had with Kenma in years. 

“Kendo-san?” he calls out the next parent in line, forcing whatever thoughts he had of you, Kenma, and Chiharu in the recesses of his mind. It could wait. Hopefully. 

[northofsomewhererp]

Your Name, Age (17+), & Timezone: mars, 22, cst ? i think?

Roy Rahim turned 33 years old on October 7th. He’s a police detective in Greensville. His face claim is Riz Ahmed.

Admin note: *SQUEALS*

Bio: 

It was hard for people to find words to describe Roy Rahim. He was a criminologist turned police detective who kept his life, for the most part, private. He had a few close friends he trusted and sisters he talked to every day, but even they didn’t know what he was up to most of the time. They knew he was immersed in his work, locked in his apartment with a few beers and some take out, and that was it; that was as much as he let them know. He kept his job and personal life as separate as they could be, and his meticulous personality made sure they stayed that way. He’d made that mistake once before, with Isolde, and he vowed to never do it again. 

Their marriage ended abruptly. He should’ve seen it coming - they weren’t happy anymore - but the months prior had been pretty good. He thought they were fixing up their marriage, working through their issues. He’d been more supportive of his wife, and they’d been going to couples therapy, which was all he’d ever wanted. Roy, always obsessed with the mind and how it worked, was completely baffled by the way his wife’s did; she’d go from warm and affectionate to cold and emotionless in less than 3 seconds. Isolde had convinced Roy to give them a second chance after he slid the divorce papers across the table during their 3 year anniversary dinner. A heartless move, but the only way she would listen. Eyes wide, she cried that it wasn’t fair - she thought their marriage was going great, and if it wasn’t, that she was willing to change. 2 months later, Roy got home to find divorce papers stuck to the fridge with a souvenir magnet from their honeymoon in Hawaii. It dawned on him later that Isolde didn’t want to fix their marriage, she just wanted to have the last word. 

Around the time his divorce finalized, Roy’s grandfather, Apa, fell sick. He decided to take some time off work to return home to Windsor, Ontario to take care of him and spend time with the rest of his family - his grandmother, Ama, and his two sisters, Seline and Zara. He hadn’t seen them in a while because Isolde always conveniently fell sick when they were supposed to travel to Windsor - she said it was probably because she didn’t feel very comfortable around them (– and funnily enough, neither did they), and the nerves made her sick.

Roy’s parents died in an accident when he was 6 years old. They were headed back from the airport after celebrating their 8 year wedding anniversary when a drunk driver crashed into them. Roy and his sisters were waiting for them eagerly at their grandparents house, but they never arrived. The police showed up at their door with the news, and everything that came after - them going to the police station, Roy’s grandparents identifying the bodies, the funeral - was completely blank for Roy. Before he knew it, he was living with his sisters at his grandparent’s house and his parents were gone.

This loss was very hard on them while growing up, a little harder on Roy because he, in his grandfather’s words, was the man of the house now. He had to be tough and suck it up because men didn’t cry. Although he had always been very sensitive, he believed that for the longest time, and shoving those feelings down for so long made him cold. He shed all of that - those ideologies, those thoughts - when he moved out to go to college in Boston. It was challenging everything he knew about the world and about himself, but he was different now. He could be vulnerable when he wanted to, he showed affection and love and kindness. Working at the police force was like moving back a hundred years, but then he found that his empathy, his sensitivity, his passion was what made him good at his job.

Three weeks into taking care of his grandfather, when Roy was starting to think maybe he would stay a little longer, maybe take a break from work, got a call that they needed a detective to investigate a few murders happening in a town in North Carolina. They were stumped and needed fresh, new eyes for the case, and they thought he was perfect for the job. He debated rejecting the opportunity and staying for a month or two, but his Ama and Apa told him to go, that they would be fine. He said goodbye, packed his bags, and left. Unable to find any housing in this other town, Roy rented an apartment in Greensville which was close enough. It was supposed to be temporary - he was supposed to return to Boston when he was done - but he decided to stay and work there instead. He’d made a few friends already, and it wasn’t half bad. 

Activity (1-10): 6? More or less?

Have you read the rules?: removed

In the event that you leave, can we keep your biography for future use? I’m going to say no, sorry love u.

Any comments/questions?:  I’m really eager to play Roy, but you can 100% hold this application until I’m back because ya girl is about to request a teensy hiatus. I just wanted to send it in because I just finished his bio and I’m excited about him. (and I hope you are too. I love him)

Sample (2+ paragraphs):

Roy’s apartment building held meetings on the first Tuesday of every month to discuss different, very important building matters; whether they would use blue or green tiles for the pool (they picked blue), whether they’d put a fountain in the back garden (which was voted no by Norma Jane Grace-Barnard because she was afraid her son, the 20 year old Harvard student, could fall in and drown), and the latest was whether they would fix the elevator because it had broken down 3 times in the past month, and Roy had been in it two of those three times. It was this incident that made him reluctantly agree to go to the meeting.

“You’re a victim, Roy,” Norma said with her funny little Southern accent as she felt up his bicep. “You’re a victim of the building administrators disregard for our safety.” 

He agreed. Not with the victim part, but about the building administrators tendency to ignore real problems and instead focus on stupid non-issues like whether the lobby should be painted pearl or cotton. (“What the fuck’s even the difference between those two?” he’d asked his friend Carter as he tossed a stress ball in the air. “Pearl and cotton - they’re both fucking shades of white.”)

The meetings were held at the conference room next to the gym - a place Roy had no idea existed until he read the notice in the elevator. 

“ALL MEETINGS HELD IN THE CONFERENCE ROOM. BRING FOOD TO SHARE.”

He arrived early with a box of donuts he’d stolen from the station (box he promised he’d replace the very next day), and he dropped it off at the refreshments table. Norma Jane Grace-Barnard was the first one to greet him. “Hiiii!” she’d waved from her seat. “Saved ya a seat, hun bun,” she said, patting the spot next to hers. Roy had been the subject of today’s unofficial pre-meeting: Roy Rahim, the attractive, mysterious police detective would possibly be attending the meeting. Would they in trouble? Would he arrest them? Cuff them? Norma Jane was excited and she wanted to go first, a fact she’d told Roy and then giggled about. Roy just chuckled and shook his head. “I might have to, Norma” and he winked before pulling out his phone and texting a simple “WTF” to his sisters. “Strangerville @ meeting.”

The meeting wasn’t so much a chat about the building and more of a mixer for the single tenants. Roy and the six other people who’d gotten stuck in the elevator talked about their experience and then the meeting was adjourned. Final verdict: they would be fixing the elevators. After that, it was like a new season of the bachelorette; wine was being served, spilled, and he was pretty sure at least 2 people interrupted his conversations with an “excuse me, can I steal you for a sec?”

Roy didn’t know anyone at the apartment building, but he’d investigated most of them on his first week living there. “I have to know who I’m living with,” he’d said to himself to justify the snooping. He’d found a lot of very interesting things about the tenants, like the fact that the girl from 302 had been arrested for stealing other people’s dogs 5 times already and that the guy from 506 had a restraining order put against him by his college professor. The one person he knew was the 23 year old who lived upstairs, Max, but only because he’d had to arrest him twice for getting in bar fights or shoplifting. Max Lawrence, who was walking into the conference room with a black eye, a beer, and an unbuttoned flannel shirt. 

“Yo, Rahim,” he said, throwing his limp arms around Roy. “The elevators working yet?” He reeked of beer. Roy chuckled and shook his head. “Dude, you smell so good.”

He was the perfect excuse to leave. He raised his hand up at Norma and her friends (Amy, Stacey and Natalie? Or was it Anna, Casey and Natasha? Either way, he had to take this drunk idiot back upstairs.) “Sorry, gotta take care of this now, ladies. It was nice talking to you,” he said as he put an arm around Max, who winked at the ladies and then proceeded to burp in their faces.

“Sorry,” he slurred, tipping his invisible hat. “Ladies.”

They both walked out of the conference room, Max dragging his feet as they walked, winking and doing finger guns at anyone who looked his way. As soon as the door closed behind them, Max stood up straight and pushed Roy off. “You’re welcome, Rahim. You owe me now,” he said as he wiped his hands on his shirt. 

“I owe you? Who bailed you out last week, huh?” he asked, shoving him playfully. “You had me there for a second, Lawrence – I really thought you were drunk.”

“Well, years of practice,” he said, bowing his head. “What do you say? Take out and a beer? My dad’s treat,” he said, already running off toward the elevators. Roy smiled and shook his head. 

“Take out and a beer.“ 

[esthersnippe]

What it is like to be a level 6 security threat at Israel’s Ben Gurion Airport

Ben Gurion has one of the most intense airport securities in the world. 

Forget the American TSA, or Cuba exit check—this is the most insane security checks in the world.

Now, I only found this out after going through it, and googling “What the fuck is up with Ben Gurion Airport’s security?” (I read one or two stories that were milder or on par than mine, and one or two that were much more intense.) 

Turns out that it actually a pretty well-known thing. 

Luckily, just by chance, I arrived at the airport 3 hours before my flight, and thank god— because the majority of that was going to be spent waiting, and being searched, waiting, and being questioned, and waiting to get through to my departure gate. (Plus a touch of feeling humiliated for good measure.) 

I arrived in the Arrivals Hall, and after a topsy-turvy wander about, I found the Departure Hall. 

I printed out my ticket and made my way to the carry-on security check.

There were three lines, I saw the one was moving at a decent pace. So I stood for a good 30 minutes only to get to the front, where the security agent asked me where my sticker was. 

I told her I had no idea what she was talking about. 

She told me I had to go back to the front of the Departures Hall and pass the first stage of security.

A little pissed at the confusing nature of this, I stalked out of the line, and searched for the “First Security Checkpoint”.

Finally, I found it (turns out there was a sign for “Security check for carryon-only passengers” that I had missed.) 

Security check for carryon-only passengers: Round One

There was no one in the line, so I automatically stood at the front of the line

 “Excuse ma’am, that is not the entrance.”

“Sorry?” 

“You have to go back and around to the entrance.” 

“I don’t understand what you are trying to tell me.” 

“You have to pass through that woman first,” 

He said this pointing to a woman 10-12 meters away. 

I rolled my eyes and walked to her. 

She glanced at my passport and ticket and waved me through. 

Security check for carryon-only passengers: Round Two

I went and stood back to where I had been standing a minute ago, and he waved me forward.  Three other people would make the same mistake of just rocking up to the front: he was just as short with all of them sending them to see the other lady first.

He asked me some of the standard fodder airport security questions like “Why are you travelling?” “How long did you stay?” “What do you do for work?” But then some stranger questions were mixed in.

“Do you speak Hebrew?”

“No.”

“None? Not even a few words?”

“No.”

“Not even a bit in school?”

Wtf.

“No.”

“Tell me what you were doing in Lebanon. Where did you go and who did you meet?”

I answered carefully and honestly.

“So, you were Couchsurfing. What were the first and last names of all your hosts?” “Did you meet their families?” “Friends?” “What do they do for work?” “He was in logistics? What kinds of things was he shipping?” “Did you have correspondence with them before you arrived in Beirut? “ “For how many weeks?” “Have you kept in contact with them while you were here?” “When was the last message you sent them?” “What was that message about?”

“Please tell me the first and last names of everyone you stayed with here in Israel.” “How long did you stay with each person?” “Where did they live?” “Did they give you any gifts?” “Are you still talking to them?” “Do you have a copy of the correspondence you had with them?”

He asked me if anyone had given me anything, or if I thought anyone might have put something in my bag, multiple times. I told him he was free to check—and he chuckled and said “That will happen later.” I immediately was filled with contempt for him.

Security check for carryon-only passengers: Round Three

He called his supervisor over, and they chatted for 3-4 minutes. He started to walk toward me, then turned around and walked back to her. Another 2-3 minute chat before he handed her my passport. She was a pleasant young woman who told me to stand in front of her on the other side of the desk. She asked me many of the same questions over again, repeating the question about whether I had been given anything twice.

Finally, she slapped a sticker on my passport. And I was told I could go. I waiting in the security line again for an additional 20 minutes.

Later, I would find out that the sticker was an assessment of my risk factor. 

1 and 2 are reserved for Israeli passport holders, 3 and 4 are seen as a mild risk, 5 is a high risk, and 6 is an extremely high risk.

When internationals fly alone out of Israel, they get a “6” or a “5”. This number is a sticker you get on your passport and bags that helps the Israeli airport security evaluate your level of Zionism. “1” is awesome, “6” is you’re fucked. 1 is reserved for white Jewish Israelis, 2 is for white Jewish non-Israelis and friendly internationals, 3 is a suspicious Israeli or international, 4 is sometimes given to non-white Israelis, 5 is for Arab Israelis or questionable internationals, and 6 is for Palestinians, Muslims, and hostile internationals. Hostile is defined as not Zionist or suspected of questioning Zionism. Anything above a 3 means interrogation. Of course these are my definitions based on the people I’ve talked to who’ve gotten one of the six. I don’t know what the official language they use says. -Lia Tarachansky (read her full article here.) 

Guess who got the sticker with the 6? 

Funny thing is that I didn’t feel hostile towards Israel in the slightest until this episode. 

You wait. And wait. And wait. 

When I finally got to the front of the carry on luggage and metal detector line, the security woman said: “You are in the wrong place. You need to go through the special security.” “What? Are you joking? I have literally been waiting for hour already to get through.” “Yes. Ok. Follow that woman there.” I followed her, and she took me to the packed line of about 40 people. “Are you kidding?” I have already been waiting an hour,” I huffed. But she didn’t reply, merely shooting a glance in my direction.

She led me to another two women, where I waited to have my name written on a clipboard. I asked what was going on, and she told me not to stress out, that someone would come for me soon. No one did. 

Streams of people went passed me in the line, and I had no idea what was going on.

And then you wait some more

“Come on. I have been waiting here for ages, can someone please explain what is going on?,” I complained 

“Yes, there are still 12 people ahead of you, but I will come to get you when it is time. That’s why you are standing here.” 

After a good 20 minutes, she told me to cut the line. The man who I was instructed to stand in front of got pissed, and tried to worm his way ahead of me. “Excuse me, sir. I was told to stand here.” I actually began to start feeling sick.

Finally, I got up to the front. Two security agents glanced at my passport, but no one talked to me. Finally, not seeing another option I just stuck my things into the X-ray scanner. A young security agent came up to me “Who are you with?”  “I don’t understand.” “Which agent are you with?” “What do you mean?” “You have to wait until one of the agents comes for you and your things.” He took my things out of the machine and put them back in front of me.  I stood there for 10 minutes, while people streamed past me.

I actually felt myself start to tremble with rage. This was absolutely ridiculous. I stopped one of the security agents and begged her to just explain to me what was going on. 

She brushed me off and told me I had to wait. 

Another 5 minutes, and 4 other people went ahead of me.

The Bag Check

Finally, a sour young women came up and without a greeting demanded I pack my things and follow her. We walked to another side of the security area. “Sit down over there.” She commanded.

She proceeded to empty every single thing out of my bag.

Every single thing out of my cosmetics bag. Every receipt. Flipped through all the pages of my books. Sent my laptop and iPhone away with another security agent. When she came across a pack of cigarettes, she demanded to know where my lighter was. “Probably in a pocket” I snapped back. 

“I don’t see it.” 

I was enraged, all my personal belonging, clothes, condoms, mascara, panties, books, and papers were spread out in front of her, and as if this wasn’t enough, she was now demanding a lighter. 

“Check my jacket” 

She pulled out all my bank and credit cards from my pockets, headphones, and opened up my lipgloss to check inside. 

Finally, she found it, and without a word, tossed it in the garbage.

Explosives Trace Detection (ETD) tests: Swabbing for drugs or bombs or who the fuck knows.

Then she started swabbing everything. 

Not a customary swipe—no, she swabbed every single piece of clothing, every pocket, every charger, my curling iron, my nightie. Checking each swab on her detector.

It took ages, and I felt a deep hate for her growing watching her finger and handle all my little things. 

“Follow me,” She said, “we need to do a body scan.” 

Another security agent came up, and they talked. 

Finally, she told me to take off my shoes. I guess just having my shoes taken was pretty lucky, in light of what I read online afterwards. 

In addition to being forced to undress for body searches, Arab passengers are often detained in secure rooms in the departure area at Ben Gudrion Airport before their flights and escorted on to planes by security staff in full view of other passengers. They may also have their hand luggage confiscated. -Jonathan Cook, “Israel's strip searches at airports 'illegal', Aljazeera

The body scan and multiple pat downs

 “Sit there and wait” she snapped—I was seriously losing my cool with this horrendous procedure and this woman in particular.

I waited another 10 minutes, barefoot, on the grungy security room floor. Feeling downright disgusted. 

“We need to scan you” she took me to a body scanner, where I was told to stand, “Open your legs wider.” she demanded, and I retorted “What the fuck. They are wider than the footprint-guides already.” I snapped. 

“Fine. Then lift up your arms and don’t put them down until I tell you to.” I stood there like a criminal getting a mug shot.

When I came out she patted down my arms and legs. 

Then we waited. She talked to someone on her radio, then told me I had to remove my necklace. 

I wanted to scream, but with dead eyes stared ahead as I carefully removed it. 

I went back into the machine and they scanned me a second time. 

When I came out, the colleague was back with my shoes, this time, she patted me down, spending extra time under my arms, on my back, and sleeves.

I went to grab my shoes, and the sour security agent said “Don’t touch those. Go back and sit down.”

I lost it with her tone, and said “You are acting in a disgusting way. I am just a traveller and don’t deserve to be treated like this.” 

She rolled her eyes at me and repeated that I needed to stay seated.

About 10 minutes later, the man came back with my laptop and mobile phone. They had an extensive conversation and she giggled. Oh. Hell. No. 

I was not going to sit there and watch this bullshit while they just made me wait.  I stood up and with contained rage “That’s enough. Are you done?” 

And she repeated that I was to sit down and wait. 

Losing all hope, I sat back down.

Finally, she said, “You can take your shoes.” 

I snatched them and pulled them on. I don’t even know how long I was sitting there because I didn’t have a mobile.

Finally, she had another quick word on her radio, and started to walk away. 

Over her shoulder, she said “We are done here. You can leave.” As I started to repack my bag, I thought “No we aren’t, you f*** b***.”

I asked to speak to the supervisor, and when she came she asked me specifically why I was upset, and what the security agent had done that was inappropriate. 

I explained about her tone, but more importantly that I felt I was being treated as a criminal which was unfounded and disgusting. 

All I had wanted to do was visit their nice country, and this had been such an awful experience that I wasn’t sure I would ever want to come back. 

She gave me an email address and asked me to share my experience. 

I thanked her, but felt tears burning in the back of my eyes. 

I felt so violated, so disrespected. I had done absolutely nothing wrong, and yet was being treated as if I was one second away from blowing up their whole damn airport. 

I grabbed my bag and left for my gate, promising myself I would never fly through Tel Aviv again.

Even hours after getting off the plane at my next destination, I still felt disgusted. Actually—I still do. It really changed my view of the Israeil state. 

My story here is not unique, many seasoned travellers have had similar accounts. I think it is important to share and read these, so that if you ever go to Israel, you know the risks. Read some of their stories and other articles here: 

What it means to go to Ben Gurion airport with an Arab friend

My Horrific Security Experience at Tel Aviv Ben Gurion Airport (TLV)

Israel's strip searches at airports 'illegal'

Leaving Tel Aviv: My Experience Through Airport Security at Ben Gurion

Airport Security Woes – My Experience Leaving Israel

[intheenditsalwaysme]

TaDa day rant number 2! Yea I know pitiful no one even read the other but hey who cares. This is for my mental health anyway. I seriously think that hardest thing about being a parent is seeing your child hurt and not being able to do anything about it, am I right. Well an equally awful feeling is seeing your parent hurt and not being able to help them either. I know that my dads hurt because he’s not talking, and my dad is a talker. It makes me so mad that people can be such assholes, to someone who has given up so much of their own time and energy to help someone who metaphorically spits in your face. Like who TF do you think you are... what gives you that right or the thought that hey I can just do this because I’m mad and got called out on my bullshit! Negative Nancy/Norman you picked the wrong family to piss off. We maybe quiet, seem calm and collective but let me tell you, once you’ve pissed this tribe off it’s over. You’re done, written off. Being the man he is my dad says just let it be and move on, we’re turning the other cheek... but Me I ain’t about that life. I’ve watched this happen almost my whole life, I’m over turning the other way, and just letting people get away with it. Why shouldn’t they get what they give; and yes karma I know will come around but in the mean time I’ve got somethings to say! And NO ONE knows how it truly is inside the home/family of a pastor... there have been and are countless dinners interrupted, sleepless nights, absurd remarks and comments made. You don’t only take time away from the pastor or preacher himself, but you also take him away from his family. As much as they may try to make up for it or prolong leaving as much as possible, it’s something that can’t be given back. It’s nights when you have major news, or a winning game you want to come home and celebrate but duty calls. An we learn early on that we’re not always able to be the top priority.

We learn to bottle up our emotions, build walls around ourselves so that we are almost untouchable to anyone. Our inner circles are smaller than most because we’ve learned there are very few people who actually care. We learn to smile when we want to cry, how to hold our tongue when we want to scream and fight. We learn to be civil all the while knowing that even though you are smiling and talking to us, that earlier that day or later we will be the topic of your conversations. When In normal lives people are free to say” hey I don’t appreciate you talking shit about me or my family, so I’m cutting you off” where we have to smile and act of nothing is wrong, as if we don’t want to punch you right in the face. Because we respect HIM and what he does. It’s complete BS!!!

Other things you learn when you’re a PK or SO, whatever is said or told about you whether it be to your parent or others. You are at fault even tho you’re completely innocent. I will never forget the first time that I truly understood, they would be believed over me in a heartbeat. HISTORY:! flashback to the early 2000s. Mtspace days, yes MySpace. Remember the infamous virus that once you were hacked. Your post were free game, and yes I’m talking about the infamous penis enlargement pill post! Not only am I like 13/14 at the time and has no idea nor did I care to know about that. But someone thought it was a good idea to called another member and tell them, “oh my goodness, how could she do this, someone should tell him”

Question1: why didn’t you call... #2:why did you feel the need to call someone else to show them and be like “I’m just concerned.” YEAH that’s what you were WRONG you were being a busy bee. So moving along in the story, I’m at home chilling, changing all my MySpace stuff you know top 5 picking the perfect background and song. When in through the door comes my dad, automatically I’m thinking in my head wth is up... he straight up lays into me about how he’s embarrassed, how could I do that. What was I thinking, what does that make him look like all this shit right, and My mom and I are like confused and she’s like what are you talking about, he tells her and I’m like that’s BS I didn’t do that, I don’t even know what that is. Nope doesn’t believe me , I’m lying, they saw it, it’s all over the internet. So I’m like BET I’ll prove that I didn’t do this and we’ll see who’s right or wrong in this situation. BTW my moms pissed, like find that mess and I’m gonna go off and these people make me sick yeah totally my ride or die. Meanwhile my dads still pissed like out in the building can’t look at me, just T Totally disgusted. So I’m on my FBI shit right cause I’m proven a point, then BAM the holy grail. A teacher from my private Christian school makes a PSA that not only was her daughters account hacked by a virus promoting some kind of dick pill but she herself had been hacked as well. I’m like yo mom here it is, she said Print that out right now. So I do she then takes this paper and yells for my dad to come in, then proceeded to put it in his face and say “believe them over your own now!” He takes the paper looks at it and I can see the color from his face drain, then rise back up, he then returns back to his building where he calls said concerned people and let’s them know what’s up, and that he was gonna whoop me and ground me forever over something that I couldn’t control” Did I get an apology from him, no. Did I get an apology from them, no. Did I learn then and there that I would NEVER trust another one of them again YES. That day I built that wall and vowed to never take it down or let anyone in again. To this day, I still see those same people in church, at family functions and church activities... I smile and speak when spoken too but never will i forget that hurt or betrayal.

Do I blame my dad you ask or am I mad that I never received an apology for that, no. Would it have made a difference NO, because if it wasn’t then when I realized where I stood on the totem pole it would’ve been something else another time. But being a parent now if I saw that or was told this information I’d definitely be like WTF, but I also learned for that experience to talk to my child first ask hey what’s up with this, wanna explain... because I want my child to be able and comfortable to talk to me about anything. Let’s talk about this, ask me questions... don’t be ashamed to come to me. I know “you can’t be a friend and a parent” but I don’t believe that’s 100% true. So what I’m saying Is if you have kids, don’t shame them, don’t jump the gun cause someone saw something or heard something they did... talk to your kids people! Learn and know what’s up with there lives.

[sending-the-message]

Never Talk To People While Waiting In Line At Disneyland! by Em_Leonard

Let me first get this out of the way...

I LOVE DISNEYLAND!

I always have. The Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean, Space Mountain. Call me a goofball if you want, I love them all. As long as can remember there was always a certain rush of magical excitement whenever I talked about it. That smell of the train’s axel grease mixed with fresh popcorn as you take first steps down Main Street. Your first glimpse of Sleeping Beauty’s castle sitting bright and vibrant against the Southern California sun. The wonderful dilemma of having to choose between The Matterhorn or Mr. Toads Wild Ride. All of this comes with one caveat, the crowds. But with such great adventures about to happen, who cares? We’re all there for the same reason. Well, maybe not everyone.

These feelings I have towards the ‘Happiest Place on Earth’ were ones I so wanted to share one day with my own kids. And for the most part I have. My son, who’s ten years old, is just now appreciating the “magic”. Admittedly however not as much as I did at his age. But last week I saw his excitement finally spill over as we parked the car and hopped on the tram for our annual summer visit.

In late August the crowds sometimes thin out as school seasons are beginning. This is different for us having home schooled our son since the fourth grade. We have more freedom with our schedules then most and this trip to Disneyland has become our unofficial end to summer and a start to his school year.

We all have our favorite rides. My wife and I, the Haunted Mansion (of course). My son’s favorite, surprisingly, is the Jungle Cruise. Looking back, it was a fitting place to meet them, while waiting in line for a ride with a savage survivalist theme. A boat ride where everything goes wrong and you’re attacked by all sorts of wild animals. Because that’s what they were, wild animals.

They seemed normal enough, a wholesome family of five and friendly as can be. It was the young boy, about the same age as my son that started the conversation. I hadn’t noticed that they were talking, but soon we all became locked in an enthusiastic conversation about our favorite place in the whole world. And they sure knew their stuff. Like what years the rides were built, oral histories about rides long gone. And when I heard the dad, Walter, call his daughter Ariel I knew these people were way hard core Disney folk.

Walter and Belle have been together for over twenty years and with their three kids Ariel, Donald (Don) and Woody make up the most intense Disneylanders one could ever meet.

Everything about them was branded by Disney in some way or another. From the matching mouse ear tee shirts, or the branded lanyards filled with collectable pins right down to Ariel’s pink Minnie mouse sneakers. Even the teenager of the group, Woody, wore his fair share of the Magic Kingdom flair.

And they talked about the place as if was their home, addressing some employees by their first names. Funny thing, the employees certainly didn’t respond as if they knew or even recognized them. It was nothing but confused looks in return. Maybe that should have been the first sign we could have picked up on. Or the fact they were all named after Disney characters. But we didn’t. In fact, after that first ride, we became ‘Disney pals’ so to speak.

We went on a few more rides together and it was nice, especially for my son. Since he home schools, making friends can be challenging and watching him mixing it up with Ariel and Donald was gratifying. Both Walter and Belle were nice too and were filled to the brim with all sorts of Disneyana facts . Woody however was not so friendly. He would stand there quiet and observant. But he was a teenager after all.

After a ride on Peter Pan’s flight we stopped off to get a refreshing cola and have a quick seat to rest. We sat together in the shade as we waited for the kids to finish their drinks. Meanwhile, Walter’s Disneyland stories started to become strange.

“I’m actually a lifetime member of Club 33!” Walter said at one point out of nowhere and with an infectious enthusiasm.

For those unaware, Club 33 is an exclusive, nearly impossible to get into, VIP only private club located in New Orleans Square. It was hard to swallow that he was a lifetime member and my gut instinct called this out as bullshit. But his promise of us having lunch at this exclusive club kept my doubts at bay. Maybe it’s true I thought.

“Let’s do a few more rides then head over”, he said.

I politely tried to steer in the direction of breaking away but he insisted we join them. I could see that look in my wife’s eyes. The one that’s telling me to man up and cut this cord. But hey, Club 33 is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

As we all got up to leave I noticed Walter take my son’s empty soda cup from him. He proceeded to dump the leftovers into the trash can then take the mouse ear lid and straw combo. He handed it over to Belle who placed it in her fanny pack. Walter looked at me and smiled his bright white row of teeth.

“Everything’s a souvenir” he said.

We should of left them right then and there. But we didn’t. Instead the kids began deciding which ride to go on next and being the passivists my wife and I are, we just went along with it.

My son broke out his park map to give it a look. Somewhere in the process he gave himself a nice and deep paper cut across his thumb. I didn’t notice until we were all waiting in line at the Haunted Mansion when I heard Ariel explained to my son that he should suck on the cut to stop the bleeding. I gave him a napkin to use instead. She kept insisting that he suck on the cut. I found her persistence about it unnerving. But later, within the darkness of the “stretchy” elevator, when I saw Ariel with my son’s thumb in her mouth that my unnerving turned into terror.

I was frozen in shock at what I was seeing and so was my son. She was sucking the blood from his cut. My fatherly instinct grabbed his hand and pulled it away from that little shits' mouth. She looked at us both as innocent as a porcelain doll, stoic and calm. I looked around to see if my wife had noticed but Walter was talking her ear off. In fact, everyone’s ears.

“This ride was the last one Mr. Disney worked on himself before he died” he boasted out to the annoyance of everyone in line.

I tried to corral my family so we could ride together but in the nonstop conveyer belt commotion I saw my wife ride away with Belle and I was stuck with Walter. I made sure my son was squeezed in with me. Ariel and Donald rode together. Woody rode alone.

For the duration of my favorite ride Walter proceeded to explain away details from every scene we past through. The hydraulics in the animatronics, the techniques used to create the holograms. I learned more than I needed to or ever wanted, sitting there while he systematically ruined my most favorite and cherished dark ride. But even more disturbing to me was the little blood sucker in the car behind us and my wife sitting next to god knows what to our front. We were trapped. All I wanted to do was get us the hell off this thing and away from them. As the ride finally came to an end the narrator’s warning “Beware of hitch hiking ghosts” suddenly took on a whole new meaning.

I rushed us off and asked the first employee I saw where I could find a first aid station. Who knows what kind of disease these people could be carrying and that girl was sucking on my son's fresh cut. Walter tried to steer us toward Club 33. I took my family’s hands once we were entangled amongst the crowd and changed course to Main Street.

“Keep walking, don’t look back...”

My wife understood what I was doing and went along. We walked briskly, navigating the scores of people for what seemed like forever hoping those weirdos were not behind us. Once we got to Main Street I finally glanced back and saw nothing. We lost them.

I nervously dumped gobs of first aid ointment on my son’s thumb explaining to my wife what I saw.

“You’re not gonna believe what I saw either” she replied, as I wrapped a Disney theme band aid around my son’s greasy thumb. But there was no time to discuss. We needed to make a decision.

We ultimately decided that instead of leaving the park all together, to head over to the sister property California Adventure. We did pay for a park hopper pass and those damn things aren’t cheap. Why let some freaks ruin our last day of summer? Fuck them. Plus, we were super hungry.

Once at California Adventure, we sat in the corner of the most out of the way eatery we could find and started to relax as our food digested. I told my wife about the paper cut sucking incident and she told me what she had seen. It was just as disturbing.

While on the Haunted Mansion she got a glimpse inside Belle’s fanny pack where she saw a clear plastic bag with “stuff” in it.

“What kind of stuff?” I asked.

Used tissues, gobs of matted hair as if pulled from a hairbrush, flattened out Disney soda cups, remnants of someone’s leftover fast food from the park, what looked like (to my wife) a used dry and blood crusted tampon, and to top this all off, our son’s mouse ear soda lid/straw combo that Walter had taken earlier.

We sat there stunned, almost paralyzed to even move. The only thought that came to mind was, WTF...

“Look! There’s Woody!”

My son stood up pointing at him. I turned to see his tall and hunched over lanky figure pass by in the crowd. He was alone. I quietly sat my son down and tried to make like a hole in the wall. My wife and I locked eyes again. We knew it was time to go home. But when we got up, they came into the eatery out of nowhere.

“Where’d you guys go!” Walter belted out with a giant smile full of teeth.

They took their seats blocking us in. I glanced over at Woody, sitting a few tables down all by himself and grinning like a madman. He was following us.

“What should we ride next, friends?”

There was a slight change in Walter’s voice as he spoke. Like he knew we were on to them.

“I think we’re heading home...”,

He wasn’t buying my wife’s lie.

“Home? It’s barely two!”.

We sat there, trapped again. Then an idea hit me.

I mustered up my best polite person persona and suggested another ride, Mickey’s Fun Wheel. Their kids lit up with excitement. My wife looked at me like I had five eyeballs. I just played along and tried to act just as excited.

“We can get a car all to ourselves and ride together!”, Walter was overcome with joy.

While waiting in line my wife was squeezing my hand so hard I thought she was going to break it. But I had a plan and it was nearing deployment, especially as we inched closer to the loading platform. The most important thing was to keep this family of freaks in front of us. Every time my son mingled too close to the front I’d pull him back as inconspicuous as possible keeping us together. And it was working, except for Woody, who kept lingering behind us.

There was only three groups ahead of us and my heart was lodged into my throat. If this plan didn’t work I’m not sure what we could do next. I had to execute this perfectly. The big gamble was how many riders per car, which was eight, perfect!

It was our turn next to board and I had managed to get us in the perfect position. They were to our front and therefore would board first, even that creep Woody. When the wheel turned and our gondola was ready I casually took my family’s hands. Game time.

Once the freak show boarded I pulled my wife and son off to the side and squeezed us back through the line. We quickly made our way past puzzled faced until we reached the nearest place to exit. I looked back to the magnificent wheel now starting to turn, where I saw those creepers crammed into their gondola, trapped. My plan had worked! I met Walters eyes one last time before they disappeared higher into the sky. They were pure darkness.

We spent no time getting out of there, not even waiting for the tram and high tailing back to the parking structure. Once we got into our car I let out a huge sigh of relief.

“What are you doing?! Start the damn car!”

My wife was not so relieved.

And she wouldn’t be until we were completely out of there. I started the car and backed out looking first to my son in the backseat. A feeling of anger came over me. What a shitty day for him. I noticed his band aid was gone.

“It fell off somewhere” he said.

Fitting, I thought. We drove home in silence.

It’s been almost exactly one week since our doomed trip to the ‘Happiest Place on Earth’. We’ve had a few family talks about not letting things get in the way of our fun time, no matter where we are. We should not let that bizarre experience get in the way of future visits. I mean, shit happens right?

I was feeling real optimistic about everything, until I went to collect the mail yesterday. There was a plain, unmarked envelope mixed within the week’s mail. I opened it and inside was my son’s band aid along with a note written on “It’s a Small World” stationary.

It read:

“Everything's a souvenir - your friend, Walt”

[actual-corpse]

Causing trouble and pushing the envelope is like, my whole deal... I'm a piece of shit who loves to get in people's ear and be in control... To give you an exact degree of my ways I'll share a quote, "If I can be the guy just behind the guy in charge, that suits me just fine." -Porter Gage.. and this has literally been my business model until shit went south near the end of the 2019 Fall Semester... Before Corona ruined everything for everyone and actually helped me deliver a hard blow to the assholes who did me wrong (more on this later). I’m also incredibly petty and I tend to hold grudges.

Fun story for better context:

I like accolades. I like shiny medals and rewards... And I like recognition, but I don't like being the main man in charge. Another wonderful Porter Gage quote, "Sure as hell ain't gonna be me; leading outright ain't my style, and there's already some blamin' me for supporting Colter all this time (more on the Colter bit later)." And "My talents are best put to use helping a new Overboss get all this shit under control. You get me?"... 

So, I spent the 2019 Spring semester (2nd semester of freshman year) and the 2019 Fall semester (1st semester of Sophomore year) as a member of some type of student government... The university I go to doesn’t have ‘dorms’ it has “Residential Colleges” and in the Res Colleges there’s a government called the RCC and I spent those 2 semesters as Vice President... Well, I was getting my bearings and learning the ropes in spring but when Fall rolled around, I was ready to rock. See, every member of the RCC I was a part of left, except me and this other girl. The other girl was a complete pushover, so I mostly got what I wanted and I was actually the guy in charge.. I even tossed the whole RCC Constitution and rewrote it to suit my needs... Only to have it used as toilet paper (more on this later).

That didn’t last too long as I was on the campaign to finding a new President, hell, I wanted to run... But I was met with the first of many strange obstacles... This mysterious “they” that thought it would be best if I didn’t run because of some wild BS that made absolutely no sense, and I quote, “They don’t think it’d look good on us if you ran for president since you didn’t run last semester.” Wtf? Well, I didn’t run and instead, some new transfer girl came in as president... And I got my first taste of being the Porter...

People would listen to her, and she would listen to me... They didn’t want me in charge, but I still was... And I’m sure they didn’t like it, but fuck ‘em...

Well, everything went tits up for the assholes in Housing (the mysterious ‘They’ has a name and I know ‘They’ are from Housing because they thwart me at every turn) and especially for the College Head when the president resigned... She bit off more than she could chew and just couldn’t handle the stress so she moved back home to up north land... Now was my time for a hostile takeover!!! Remember when I said I rewrote the constitution to suit my needs? Well, every other RCC constitution had a clause where the VP would take over for the President until a new one was elected... Except, it didn’t happen... No, this mysterious “They” told the President to “appoint” someone... This, boiled my blood... Especially since they NEVER once told me why they were doing me dirty... Well, jokes on those assholes, I raised a fuss over this and it led them to vote... Too my my fucking older brother DIED that weekend so I obviously couldn’t show up to defend myself or get any reasoning as to WHY they were doing what they were.

Well, while I was out for the week, things went in my favor... Hilariously and very ironically, they voted that the girl appointed as Interim President should NOT be interim and that it should just instead, follow the Constitution... (It’s ironic because this girl had a chronic issue of projecting where she would discredit ANYONE looking for a higher position by saying, “It’s a very stressful job. Idk if they can handle it... Etc.” she couldn’t handle her own fucking job as RA, that’s why she quit after one semester)... ANYWAY

Well, time rolls on and I’m grooming someone for the position of president... Someone I thought I could trust... A very close friend who I thought I could “guide” from the sidelines... Well, just like Gage and Conner, shit went south and I just happen to die in the crossfire... You see, I helped this friend. I talked him up, I helped him campaign (not literally... I just helped him get his ideas off the ground like, I was behind him)... And I was ready to crown my scapegoat... Except, things didn’t go as I had planned...

No, when the next semester rolls around, I’m all geared up to lead the charge into a new presidency, I’m also spearheading a few other projects (more on this later) and so, I’m ready to be the Porter again.... Except, I’m not... See, the meeting after we vote for the new president, the college head says we need a new Secretary (the RA who quit was the previous secretary) and we needed a new VP... Except, I was the VP! No, instead this dick flop goes around the room and asks the Web Chair if she wants to keep her position (She says no and so Dick Flop hands it off to the first bitch who raises her hand) And then Dick Flop asks the Media Chair if she wants to keep her position (She says yes) and then he proceeds to act as tho I’m not even there and asks for nominations for secretary and VP!

 The first RCA (Residential College Association) meeting of the new semester that we go to, the guy I made president, completely ignores the fact that at the RCA meetings, our Res College, is a team, who works together to vote on things... He acts completely alone... He ignores me, and I get pissed off... Well, come his first RCC meeting where he’s president, he completely undermines my title and job (I had been demoted and he was walking all over everybody...and I became RCA rep... I was supposed to relay the information we got at the RCA meetings to the RCC... The Dickhead president does this instead... In fact, he did everyone’s jobs) This was not okay. I tried to let him know that this was not okay and since he ignored me, I kinda threw my phone down on the table in front of him (I had to sign a sign-in sheet), picked it back up and stormed out.

Well, I wasn’t the only one who hated this guy... It seems that everyone was angry over something... See, there was another RCA rep... She didn’t get to do her job, so she got mad. The RAs and RD had a weekly meeting after RCC and since President Dick liked to suck himself and the College Head off, the RCC meetings lasted an hour. I don’t know how many people knew I was backing President Dick, but I’m sure those that did know, were a little miffed at me for backing him... My mistake... Hilariously enough, I had planned yet another hostile takeover... Covid just kind of, got in my way and forced me to change direction... Oops.

About that second project... I was in charge of a few different things... I was kind of important, for without me, the group was lacking specific information and various other things... Well, the more important project was All Campus Sing (and here I just gave away what University I go to because as far as I know, only one Uni does ACS)... Well, I was our ACS rep and I was trying to get a team together... Just, nobody was cooperating with me and so it was hard to get the word out... Well, shortly after I was abruptly kicked from my VP position, I was also kicked from my ACS rep position (However, those fucking idiots neglected to come to me and ask if there was anything they need to know... They thought that all they had to do was say they were interested and they could show up... However, they just invoked the wrath of the ONLY person that had any know-how of what they were supposed to do... So whenever I got an ACS email... I deleted it... They never got signed up... There was an actual process to getting entered into the competition... And they knew nothing about it... They didn’t even know what they were doing) If it wasn’t Covid who ruined their ACS, then it would’ve been me [thanks Covid...] In fact, because there WAS no ACS this year, they just re-streamed last year’s ACS instead... The one where I was on the winning Res College team.

Another thing I was in charge of was getting together an Academic Team.. We kind of had one, I was just the one who let people know when and where the matches where... And I was also trying to get a team together for the tournament... Except, everyone was too flaky and wouldn’t give me a straight answer... So, there was no team.... And so, on the eve of the Tournament, the College Head kept bothering me asking if I had a team and all that jive... Well, at that moment, I was sitting in a Logan’s in Paducah, KY after visiting a sex shop with some friends and my good buddy Matthew told me to just block the College Head... So I did, I blocked his number... And on the next day, Tournament Day, I slept... Then I went and hung out with some friends, one of which was showing me photos on Instagram where they had the Tournament... And every Res College was there... Except ours... And we laughed and I’m sure the College Head was mad... But I wouldn’t know, I blocked him and proceeded to avoid him like the plague... Old bastard...

To end this wild tale of heartbreak and deceit, I’d like to say this; I’m moving into a different Res College and I’m still debating on whether or not I want to take control there... I need to find a way to get back at the assholes in my old RC (Res College)... Like, most of the RAs were mean and smarted off to residents and were very disrespectful, and also the RCC that somehow became an exclusive club of ass-kissers and know-it-alls... I mean, yeah, I had my run of the place, but I can get that anywhere... It’s just my deal....

I also bend the ears of many people... In fact, I managed to pursuade a couple of my friends to move RCs with me (I only chose the one I did because I was chasing dick [shame on me I know...]... But I was gonna move regardless)... I am The Mastermind and I intend to have my run of the place in the new building.

This post was supposed to be about how I’m covertly coming out to my mom by pushing the envelope and asking her if I could get top surgery (on the basis of just not having to deal with breasts) or if I could have a Hysto (because periods amirite?) and also just how I have the awful habit of persuading people, mostly through some kind of manipulation, to do what I want....

It’s all about the Charisma, and my Charisma stat is maxed out...

Call me all the bad names you want to... Just know that I typically treat people right until they turn on me or hurt me in some way... Or, I mess with people in a harmless way and usually try to push for an outcome that helps everyone... Not just me... I use these tools for good! Not evil... Usually.... If there’s something I can gain from it, I’ll fight for it... Again, call me dirty names... I’m tired of being the nice guy doormat... This world’s made me into a selfish asshole and I’m no longer sorry...

[thedragonsteaparty]

Hey! It’s me! I’m back! I haven’t posted for a long time now. Basically, my phone broke (I dropped a jar of mustard on it, RIP my poor phone) and I did not realise just how much I manage my blog through the WordPress app. That and stuff has just all been a bit hectic lately!

So anyway what have I been up to? Well, work asked me to attend a conference in London on the 30th and, oh no, Comic Con was on that weekend too, what a shame. I decided to go by myself, it was too short notice to cosplay, I could have worn my previous Link outfit but I didn’t fancy dragging a sword and shield along to the conference the next day.

I did only go for the Sunday as, being by myself, I didn’t think that it would be worth it for the whole weekend or with priority entry. When I’ve been before, in cosplay, I always had a feeling that being dressed up made being there for the whole event more worth it. I was right really, it was a bit weird not being in cosplay for once and I actually felt more awkward talking to people about their costumes in my normal clothes than I did while in cosplay myself even though I know that, as a cosplayer, you want people to take your picture, that’s a big part of it. I missed being able to talk to my friends about what I saw as well. On the other hand I got around really quickly and didn’t have to stand there looking at stuff I didn’t care about if I didn’t want to so that was nice.

While we’re on the subject of cosplay here’s a little sideshow of some cool ones I saw (plus some extra cool bits).

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I was really impressed and inspired by the Steampunk section, trying to think of something I can do with that for a future cosplay…

A good thing about being alone was that I was ushered to the front of the queue for multi player games quite a bit as most people were queued as a group so I got to try out the Nintendo Switch, I really like it and I want one!!! I played Arms, playing against the guy running the stand, I don’t know if he was just being nice but I kicked his butt all the way back to Nintendo headquarters. Then I played Pokkén Tournament against another lonely Comic Con goer, neither of us had any idea how to play so we were both mashing buttons and oohing at the results, that was fun but as I didn’t know what I was doing I was a bit bemused by it all.

Once I’d exhausted the Nintendo Switch I had a go at some of the smaller games lying around, first of all I tried Cat Quest. This was adorable. I played a cat in a world full of cat puns and I’m not quite sure what was going on but it was lovely. You could cast spells and attack, most of the locations were punny (The Catpitol, for example) and I had some fun playing it, I didn’t really want to leave it. I’ll look out for this!

Look at this, this is adorable

Then I played Yomawari: Midnight Shadows. You know when you play a demo of a game and it gives you literally no context so you don’t know why you’re here, who you are or what you’re doing, detracting from the immersive side somewhat and therefore your enjoyment of the game leaving you with a sense of “WTF was that?”? That was this game (or the demo for it at least). It started me off in a forest where the game was teaching me how to move around and interact with things, I found a cute dog and I was told to throw a ball or something for it, I did and the dog chased it across a bridge, which then collapsed leaving the dog stuck on the other side.

For a while I thought I had to figure out how to get the dog back but no… Then I got to a crate and the game told me to pick up the crate and put it under a tree… Once I did that I watched in horror as my character proceeded to do this:

Wait… What?

Whoa, stop, NO!!!

What the fuck??? What is happening?????? Why is this a thing?!

What the hell?! Why?! After that it cuts to you coming out of your house and meeting your friend, you go and watch fireworks and talk FOREVER, then I’m afraid I got bored and left. I did Google it afterwards to see what it was all about and it sounds OK actually, kind of cute Silent Hill-ish, apparently you get separated from your friend and you have to work your way through town to find your friend and get home, the town has nasty spirits lurking around that can attack you but all you have is a flashlight so you can’t defend yourself. It’s a shame they didn’t have any sort of information at the demo though, even a little piece of paper pinned next to the screen giving you a summary of the game would have been good. When you have so much talking in a demo it’s not great either, I had no idea what was happening, why I’d just hung myself and I didn’t want to be stood there for half an hour reading a conversation between two characters. It’s got good reviews on Steam though and apparently it’s the sequel to a previous game Yomawari: Night Alone so maybe I was just missing that. I didn’t know any of that before I Googled it though.

After having a look at some of the queues after that and grimacing a how long I’d be stood there for I decided to have a look at the rest of the event. I got a picture of C’thullu for our flat, as you do. Look at him though, he’s adorable (sorry about poor pic quality).

This stand was great, they had loads of cute artwork, I do regret not buying more actually. The shop is called Super Cute Awesome Stuff.

Then I won a dress from The Quirky Doll which has super cute fabric all covered in Narwhals, lot’s of bows too!

Finally, I got an addition to my Doctor Who poster. I’m not going to lie I had no idea what his name was before I saw him on the Comic Con website but I got Bernard Cribbins to sign my poster alongside his Doctor Who co-star Catherine Tate, he plays her granddad Alfred in the show. He’s such a sweet character and his last episode (also David Tennant’s last episode) is really sad. Maybe one day I’ll have a big collection of the Doctor’s companions’ and friends’ names on my poster!

Are you attending a similar event soon? Do you usually like to cosplay?

MCM London Comic Con October 2017 (A week late summary) Hey! It's me! I'm back! I haven't posted for a long time now. Basically, my phone broke (I dropped a jar of mustard on it, RIP my poor phone) and I did not realise just how much I manage my blog through the WordPress app.

[jojo-suga]

*SURPRISE* - Jimin scenario

Pairing: Jimin + reader

Genre: fluff/romance

Word count: 1785

SUMMARY: Your relationship with Jimin is new. You’ve been together for almost 2 months and you haven’t spoken yet about how you will spend your monthsary as a couple. He was always busy because of his busy schedule as an Idol and he haven’t talked to you in days. But you were always that girlfriend who is very understanding even before when you’re still suffering for how many months because of him.

________

*Jimin’s POV*

After how many days of preparation along with my busy schedule, finally the long wait is over. Luckily, Bangpdnim gave us 3 days vacation before promotions. Life is great!

~Riiinggggggggg

“Hello Mika… how are you? This is Jimin… Can you do me a favor?” “Yes, chimchim.! I’m okay, what is it?” “Sorry if I’m bothering you, but I really need your help…” “No, It’s Okay…” “I’m actually preparing for a surprise date for Y/N and I’m almost done with it. I need you to invite her and don’t tell her why, just make your own story. Haha. Please? I know it’s hard, but I know you can do it, Mika.” “Wow, is that for real? Omg! That’s so cute, I’m sure Y/N will love it Jiminie… and of course, I’m willing to help. Just tell me the time and place and you’re good to go, boy.” “Wahhh.. Thank you so much, Mika! I’ll just send you the details later. And don’t forget… it’s a secret, Okay?” “Arasseo… Take care! bye!”

*Y/N’s POV*

“Mr. Yoon, here are the permits for the renovation of room 216. I’ve already contacted the contractor and probably they will start tomorrow. Just call me if you still need anything.” “Don’t worry, Y/N… I’m sure everything will be okay. I’ll just call you if anything happens. I’ll go ahead.” “Annyeong! Ahjussi….” Mr. Yoon went ahead and I’m still busy checking out all the tenant’s contract when I heard someone knocked on my office door.

It’s Mika… why? I thought she’s hanging out with his lovey dovey since they’re having a 3-day vacation. Jimin said he’s going to be busy and will visit his family in Busan. I’m quite sad because it’s supposed to be our 2nd month of being together, and it seems that he forget about it already. But it’s alright, I understand his situation, though. He must be having a hard time because of his busy schedule.

“Y/N?”

“Hey! What’s up bitch?” I welcomed her warmly. LMAO “I’m okay, Bitch! Haha.. So, are you busy today?” “Actually… NO. I’m just checking some papers and I’m done with my collection, so yeah! I’m kinda free. WHY?” “Hmmmm… Coz’ I need to go somewhere. My friend invited me to a beach birthday party and I have no one to go to, Suga is busy with his mixtape and he said I can’t go if I don’t have someone to accompany me. Can you go with me, please?” “Why are you even asking? Of course! It’s a party! count me in, Girl!” “Yes! Thank you…. I owe you one!” Mika said excitedly. “Oh wait! I’m gonna call Jimin first…”

~Riiingggggggggg

“Hello baby? Can I go with Mika, today? She’s going to a beach party…” “Beach party? Just be careful, Okay? Text me when you get there… and behave.” “Okay… but I won’t promise…HAHA!” I teased. “What did you say?!” he exclaimed from the other line. “Ouch… I’m just teasing you… of course, I’ll definitely behave. My boyfriend is Park Jimin, so should I ask for more?” “Exactly… Y/N, I’m telling you.” I can’t see if he’s serious or not, but I’m definitely enjoying this. “You’re acting like a baby… duh. I promise, okay.” “Good, stay with Mika.” “Okay, baby… I LOVE YOU. Bye!” I ended the call and realized that Mika is staring at me weirdly.

“That’s so grossssss…” Mika blurred out. “What? Yah! Mikaela… its as if you’re not like this with Yoongi, and I think you two are the worst!” “Yah… we’re not!” “Really? Jimin told me that you two were doing something in his music room and the boys caught you in the act! Haha… now, who’s EWW?” “Excuse me, we’re not doing something bad. Okay?! It’s Hobi’s dirty mind fault…” Mika defended. “Hahah! then why are you blushing?” “Pffft…no I’m not! Yah… are you coming with me or not?” “I’m just teasing you…bish. I’ll go. I’ll just prepare very quick.” “See you later… Y/N!”

After 2 hours, Mika and I went to the train station and I just realized that we’re going to Busan. We took the train and arrived after 3 hours. When we arrived at the venue, I’m totally in love with the place. The resort is indeed beautiful and peaceful.

“Y/N… c'mon. My friend already provided us a room.” We headed to the reception area and claimed our room keys. The room that was provided is an isolated mini beach house which is located almost front of the sea.

It’s curious that the place is very quiet. A type of vacation spot that can give you peace of mind and serenity. This is quite not suitable for parties. Oh well, who am I to complain? I’m just an extra and this is totally great! Hehe. Mika’s friend is probably rich.

As we entered the room, I can’t help but to admire the surroundings. Elegant but simple. Fresh looking designs with an overlooking view of the seas. My type of getaway indeed. Something that I’ve always been dreaming of.

“Omg! I totally forgot to tell you that this is gonna be a white beach party. Did you bring a white dress?” “Yah! You didn’t tell me. I just brought some but it’s all printed.” “Oh wait, I’m just gonna check my bag. Great! Luckily I have prepared two white dresses. Here take this!” Wow. She is indeed prepared, and wow again, the dress is extremely beautiful.

“Are you sure…You’re not going to wear this?” “Yes, I have another one right here. hehe! Geeezz I’m so excited. Hurry up! You could take your shower first and put some make up. Omg! Why am I even? You’re an expert, so you could definitely make yourself pretty without even trying. Haha!”

“Mika? Are you okay? You seemed so giddy. Maybe you should hurry up too!” “Me? oh im so sorry! I’m just excited because this is gonna be my first time to wear a white dress!”

We laughed and I proceeded to enter the bathroom and took a shower.

I’m feeling nervous and I don’t know why. By the time I went out of the bathroom, Mika isn’t around. I wonder where did she go. I wore the dress and put on a light make up, sprayed some Giorgio Armani Sensi perfume. Wore my white gladiator sandals and I’m done, but where the hell is Mika?

I took my phone and texted Mika.

ME: Where are you? MIKA: I’m here at the hotel lobby. If you’re done can you come by here? ME: Okay. Wait for me there.

I left the beach house and made my way to the hotel lobby. When I reach there, Mika isn’t around. This is getting a little bit weird, I prepared too much and here she is playing games. Where the heck is she?

I’ve been standing and walking for a while so I decided to sit down on the elegant couch and waited for Mika a little more. After 30 minutes of waiting, the time is already at 7:10 pm. I’m starting to get scared for myself and for Mika too. Is this some kind of a joke or what? Where is she?

My hands are getting sweaty. I tried to call her but her number is unattended. Wtf? Then my phone beeped…

MIKA: girl I’m so sorry… I went back to our room. Sorrrrryyyyy. I need to get hurry because the party will start at 7:30… Can I get some help? I don’t know how to do my make up. You know I suck at making myself pretty. thank you bestie! ME: You scared me bish… I thought I lost you. Okay… I’ll be there.

When I reached the beach house, I immediately opened the entrance door but the lights are off. Seriously Mika? Pulling pranks?

I was struggling to find the switch when I suddenly felt a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. OMG. It’s the scent that makes me shiver and the voice that can make my heart flutter.

Am I just dreaming? Am I? But its the scent and touch that lingers inside my heart.

“Surprise…” he whispered.

O.o

o.O

O.O

“J-jimin?”

“Happy Monthsary….” Jimin blurted out while hugging me from the back more tightly.

“Is this real? Jiminie?’

"No, it’s a wonderful dream… Do you want to continue?” he kissed my neck lovingly.

“I’m afraid to wake up… if this is just a dream.” I mumbled.

There was a long silence and I heard a muffled cry.

“Are you okay?” I carresed his arms around me.

Silence again… I felt his tears trickled on my shoulder…😢

“Mianhae… Mianhae….” he said in between sobs.

“Hey, why are you like that… C'mon baby tell me. You’re scaring me… are you breaking up with me..?”

“No, its not like that… I just remember the times that I hurt you so much, the pains, the neglect… I’m so sorry for everything, Y/N.” his face is resting on the crook of my neck.

“I know, I have been so hard on you before. I sometimes think that I really don’t deserve you, Y/N…”

“Yah… are you stupid? I shouldn’t have accepted you in the first place!” I playfully hit his arms.

“It’s all the past… I’ve already forgiven you. I still believe that everything happens for a reason. And all that had happened before made us together…”

“Is that for real, baby? Thank you…” He still can’t believe it. Jimin is so cute. Omg!

“I promise. So don’t worry anymore. And where the hell is Mika?!” and i also realized that we were confessing in the dark. Lmao.

“Don’t mind her, she’s on her way to Seoul now… So you’re officialy detained here for two days like a prisoner.” then he covered my eyes with his little hands pushing me somewhere, then I felt the sea breeze on my skin… guess he’s leading me on the porch.

“Yah… Jiminie, you basically kidnapped me. I’m going to sue you and Mika. For real.”

“Oh yeah… I’m scared, baby. And Yoongi hyung will be very mad if you do that.” he chuckled.

He let go of my eyes and I was stunned on the beauty on in front me… So romantic. Just like what I wanted… 😍

Candlelight dinner in front of the sea… With flowers scattered all over the veranda. Should I cry right now? Wtf is this. I’m not prepared. Haha.

And here he comes smiling so sweetly holding a bunch of white combined red roses with dried tears on his face.

“I love you…” he mumbled. My heart… My goodness. I’m not supposed to cry but my tears started to fall.

I swiftly ran to his embrace and cried on his chest. “I love you too… Jimin.” I replied with all honesty.

He hugged me back while crying with me. Omg. And he pulled out something on his pocket and he ask me to turn around. As i did, he placed something on my neck, a necklace.

“This is my heart, Y/N…. It’s all yours. Look, I have mine too…” He chuckled as he wiped the tears on my eyes.

His necklace is indeed paired to mine. Oh god, this is so wonderful. How can I ever hate this person?

“Thank you so much, Jimin…” I smiled at him and wiped the tears in on his chubby cheeks.

This is indeed the most beautiful moment of my life.

______________

A/N: who wants to read the continuation? 😂