#chat it's 1:30 am

[neverpollo]

Theory: Monty's birthday is October 31

Source: look at that man and tell me he's not a Scorpio. Also something something devil spawn evil day idk

[fridayyy-13th]

i swear sometimes i think people forget that Jon's s1 skeptic act was just that—an act. it was an act!!! he believes the statements!! he's believed them since episode one! do we so soon forget that he denied the statements were real because he knew the Eye something wanted him to be scared, and he knew that was bad, so he decided to act like the statements just didn't scare him? remember, he was working with extremely limited information ("when i record the tape statements, i feel watched, like something knows i'm afraid, and i don't want it to know that"), and came up with a genuinely solid solution with what he had! not his fault that the thing watching him was a literal unknowable eldritch entity that feeds on fear, and he was just some underqualified archivist.

[florinoir]

i hate this game.

[soft-butch-cassidy]

slumped in a dark, dank corner of a labyrinthine dungeon, barely breathing, slowly bleeding out around the sword lodged in my abdomen: adventurer... come closer... i've not much time left... i must impart unto thee my most precious secret, which surely will be of utmost use if thou art to survive in this wretched world... when thou makest a cream-based sauce, add a bit of nutmeg to it... nary more than a pinch, unless thou art a most daring sort... no matter if it is a cream sauce of citrus or of spice, perchance stir nutmeg into it, and thou wilt understand... ah... now that my wisdom has been passed on, so shall i... goodbye adventurer...

[soggy-fishsticks]

ive been having heart palpitations for hours and now I feel a very slight chest pain am I going to die

[bikananjarrus]

yeah today's productivity is shot

[penitenteyeball]

Dum de dum dum

Gonna add max tags and max characters to each cause who cares

[todayisafridaynight]

psst for my stream regulars

How does the idea of me starting streams at like 1:30PM (EST) sound. i’ll still plan to run them to like 5:00PM (EST) but now its more definite it’ll actually end then opposed to accidentally going on until like. 7:30PM (EST)

Also im on mobile so i cant make a poll so you gotta let me know through like a comment or somethin ok ty

[ouraniaslyre]

about to really test that 24-hour play time. cove holden ur deja vu WILL be increasing in the next week

[cinnabeat]

incredibly unrelated but i kind of want to replay outer wilds...which is a wild if achievable thing to say when ive been meaning to finish melody of memory

[cursingtoji]

TAME IMPALA IS IN THE BARBIE SOUNDTRACK ????

[duvetchico]

25 clips that had us looking like :0

summary it's jimin’s birthday, and what better way to celebrate than by dragging out every single suspiciously couple-coded thing she’s ever done with y/n?

genre crack / fluff overload / lowkey romantic documentary / "they're dating but we’re all playing dumb" energy / yu jimin turns 25

pairing yu jimin x added!member reader

masterlist.

channel: user-duvetchico

[INTRO — 0:00] hey what’s up it’s me again back with another delulu edit that may or may not be grounded in actual real evidence. today we’re counting down 25 moments between our mother jimin and the added member of aespa, y/n, who are just besties except they act like they’re already married. anyways. it’s jimin’s bday so we’re being sickeningly sentimental.

[clip 1 – 0:13] from aespa’s behind-the-scenes vlog at music bank jimin’s sitting on the floor, back against the wall, in full stage makeup but with a sleepy dazed look. y/n walks by and throws her a juice box. ���what’s this?” “your personality, because u get grumpy when ur dehydrated.” jimin smiles without looking at her, pokes the straw in, and sips. “love u.”

-

[clip 3 – 0:28] aespa's live chat: “what are you two doing later?” jimin: “cuddling.” y/n, not missing a beat: “duh.” dead silence and then y/n bursts out laughing while jimin just sips her drink and smirks like she got away with murder.

-

[clip 2: 0:44] staff "karina, your mic—" jimin, already walking off “hold on i have to fix y/n’s hair first.” camera pans to her literally babying y/n, fixing her bangs and whispering "there. pretty."

-

[clip 3: 0:56]

aespa's live

comment: “who’s your favorite member in aespa?”

jimin: “obviously the one i sleep next to.”

camera cuts to y/n throwing a pillow at her while everyone else screams.

-

[clip 4 – 1:10] backstage fancam y/n’s adjusting jimin’s in-ears. jimin closes her eyes. y/n says something too quiet to hear, but jimin smiles so wide she almost forgets to go onstage.

-

[clip 5: 1:26]

concert footage during the ending ment, jimin lowkey leans over and whispers something to y/n. y/n nods. jimin kisses her on the cheek. yeah. fans SCREAMED.

-

[clip 6: 1:39] camera catches jimin tracing little hearts on y/n’s arm while she’s talking to staff. y/n doesn’t even flinch. like this is NORMAL.

-

[clip 7: 1:46]

q&a segment question: “who’s the most clingy?” everyone simultaneously: “jimin.” jimin: “i am NOT—” camera cuts to jimin literally holding y/n’s pinky in hers under the table.

-

[clip 8: 1:58]

cafe vlog jimin feeding y/n cake while saying “say ahhh.” y/n: “you’re so annoying.” jimin: “say that again after i just bought you a $7 slice of cake.”

-

[clip 9: 2:12]

idol room game task: “call the person you love the most” jimin immediately dials y/n. y/n picks up like “why are you calling me we’re literally in the same room.” jimin: “bc i love you. duh.”

-

[clip 10 – 2:30] training room y/n’s struggling with choreo. jimin just sits next to her and holds her hand. “wanna try again?” “not yet.” “ok. i’ll sit here with you.” cue soft music and hearts exploding

-

[clip 11 – 2:48] instagram live fan: “what do you like most about y/n?” jimin, looking up: “her heart.” y/n, offscreen: “and my ass right??” jimin: “....also that.”

-

[clip 12 – 3:00] concert footage during aespa’s ment, jimin’s talking, and y/n walks behind her and lightly tugs at the back of her jacket. jimin pauses, leans back a little like muscle memory, and they just stand there like that for 10 seconds before realizing 10,000 people are staring.

-

[clip 13 - 3:10]

random interview

jimin holding y/n’s hand during an aespa interview. she lowkey rubs circles with her thumb. they ask what jimin does to relax. “i hang out with y/n.” and everyone goes “awww” while y/n blushes hard and tries to disappear into the floor.

-

[clip 14 - 3:33]

award show red carpet

they’re standing side by side, hand on lower back, classic pose. interviewer: “you two are very close—any messages for each other?” jimin looks at y/n and just goes: “thank you for existing.” y/n’s face goes FULL red. “bro. you could’ve just said ‘you look nice’ like a normal person.” jimin: “no fun in that.”

-

[clip 15 - 3:49]

aespa behind ep, japan tour

camera pans to jimin sleeping in the van, head on y/n’s shoulder, mouth slightly open. y/n's literally just scrolling through her phone with one headphone in, unfazed.

staff voice (off-cam): “you could move her head if it's heavy.”

y/n: “nope. it’s fine. she only drooled once.”

-

[clip 16 - 4:01]

instagram live

y/n, half-asleep: “jimin just texted me to eat something. do i look like i wanna chew right now.”

chat: “why does she know you haven’t eaten?”

y/n: “bro she tracks me like a damn fitness app.”

-

[clip 17 - 4:10]

airport candid

jimin places her coat on y/n’s shoulders and walks off like nothing happened. y/n stares at the camera like “y’all saw that right.”

-

[clip 18 - 4:18]

concert moment

they pass the mic to y/n to talk. jimin's behind her mouthing every single word she says.

-

[clip 19 - 4:25]

q&a fan event

fan: “describe each other in one word.”

jimin: “mine.”

crowd: “???!!?!?”

jimin: laughs nervously “LIKE—like she’s my member. i mean. like she belongs to the group. yk?”

-

[clip 20 - 4:37]

fan spotted them at a café together

jimin and y/n laughing so loud jimin actually hits the table. y/n wipes whipped cream off her lip and flicks it at her.

-

[clip 21 - 4:49]

award show ending

jimin offers her hand to y/n to help her off stage. doesn’t let go until they reach the dressing room.

-

[clip 22 5:00]

concert ending

they’re waving goodbye. y/n reaches over and links pinkies with jimin. “did you have fun?” “only because you were there.” “gay.” “you love it.”

-

[clip 23 - 5:13]

jimin's birthday at their concert

jimin’s on stage during a concert, gets handed the mic for her birthday. she turns to y/n in the crowd. “thank you for being my person. even when i’m annoying. and weird. and obsessed with you.” y/n shouts something back. jimin laughs and covers her face. “okay stop i’m gonna cry now.”

-

[clip 24 - 5:20]

last night a phone cam video. the members are singing happy birthday. jimin’s about to blow the candles out when she glances at y/n. “make a wish,” y/n says. jimin: “already got it.” y/n: freakin dies

-

[clip 25 - 5:33]

aespa surprise live for jimin

scene opens with aeri filming the cake. arguing in the background. ningning is yelling something about lighting the candles properly. minjeong is just... eating frosting. and then—

jimin walks in, eyes all sleepy but smiling, and y/n’s already standing behind the couch like she’s been waiting for her or some shit. she immediately pulls jimin into a hug, and you hear aeri screaming in the background like “OH MY GODDDD GUYS GET A ROOM.”

they don’t even flinch. y/n’s arms are wrapped around her waist from behind, chin resting on jimin’s shoulder while jimin just leans back into it like it’s second nature. they're swaying. it’s disgustingly adorable.

then jimin turns her head slightly and says (into the mic she didn’t realize was ON) “i told you i only wanted to spend my birthday with you first...”

y/n literally freezes. everyone heard that. the silence was LOUD. ningning drops a spoon.

jimin realizes. blinks. “WAIT—THE MIC—”

minjeong collapses on the couch laughing. aeri is wheezing. live goes mess. jimin turns bright red and tries to play it off like “hahaha i meant like... metaphorically... like you... the fans... plural...”

[OUTRO – 6:00]

anyway. if they’re not dating, then i’m dating them. happy birthday to jimin, aespa’s leader, and certified simp. if they’re not really dating, then i’m deleting this video. but like… i’m not deleting shit. and for y/n.... go give your gf forehead kisses rn or i’ll do it first.

[redflagshipwriter]

Chef Beef 2/2

Part 1

Thursday

11:30 AM.

Only a few more days left of this experiment. Jason wasn’t sure if he was dreading the end or looking forward to it. Streaming twice a day was kind of a lot, but it was also invigorating.

Jason heaved a sigh at his screen, mostly joking in his exasperation. His viewers were little shits. “I already pounded it.” He held up the tenderized steak. “I pounded it within an inch of its life– in bed, against the wall, on the floor–” Jason cut himself off from reading the comments incredulously. “In the kitchen!” He scowled at his fans. “I am not pounding meat anywhere but in a clean kitchen.” He shook his head and scoffed. “I will tenderize one more steak, if you really need to see it. Pay enough attention this time to notice the sterile environment.”

Raven sighed deeply. “I will explode the head of the next puerile loser to comment,” she threatened. She snapped her fingers at the viewers, nails setting off sparks and smoke. “Do not make me read those words.”

Jason gave a theatrical shudder.

She squinted at the comment section. “Are you Nightwing?” she asked him wryly. He was probably the only person who could tell that she was laughing her ass off internally. “They can’t think of another reason for us to know each other.”

Jason jumped so hard he nearly hit his finger with the mallet. “No! Christ.” He shook his head. “We look nothing alike.”

The chat exploded with commentary. He ignored it with a laugh and went back to work. Dick must be giggling his ass off.

A few minutes later, he was explaining the miso-yuzu topping for his steak when he noticed a familiar name dropping another sticker. 

Hey, wait. He frowned. “HawaiiHunk2?” He read incredulously. “You the same motherfucker that got blocked yesterday? You are thirsty, buddy.” 

Raven put down her spoon and leaned over to see the screen. “Ew,” she said, screwing her whole face up.

“Miso hungry for you 🥺🥺🥺🥺,” HawaiiHunk2 had said. Definitely the same fucker. 

“I’ve got it.” GOATman typed up rapidly. 

Jason waited a moment for the notification that the guy was blocked to appear. Nothing. But HawaiiHunk2 never sent another message. Huh. Maybe he’d missed it somehow? “Thanks, GOATman,” he said. He stopped stirring his mix and set the bowl aside. “Imma see you again for dinner, right?”

GOATman sent a yes and a flood of emojis.

“Someone has a comparison, look at this.” Raven gave up any pretense of helping and leaned both elbows on his counter. He made an aggrieved noise. “They’ve got screenshots of us standing next to each other and…” she frowned. “Where did you get this image?” she said, sounding dangerous. 

Jason looked over. “...Nerd,” he said. Someone had found a high quality shot of Raven and Nightwing and used her as a scale to do math about how big both men were. “You’re doing math? Embarrassing.”

“This image proves that you are taller than Nightwing,” said Kissy6000, a certified freak. “If her stated height is accurate, you are 5 inches taller than Nightwing, and your thighs are an additional 4 inches in circumference compared to his.”

“And much more swole,” added BicepMan. “Nightwing wishes he was built like that.”

He choked on a laugh, because that was kind of mean to his manager. “Back to twice baked potatoes,” Jason said pointedly. “We are almost done.”

He took the first bite on camera, as he always did. “Yupp,” he pronounced, “this is delicious.” 

“I agree.” Raven licked her spoon. “I will probably never cook again, but I may manifest on your welcome mat and beg.”

“That’s more polite than my brothers,” he told her, and then turned his attention to his viewers. “Tell me if you make it– hell yeah, I will repost your picture,” Jason promised. “Mm, do I– I don’t see any relevance, BicepMan,” Jason scoffed. “Do I like redheads? Off topic. Blocked and deleted,” he joked. Then he held up his hands in a stop gesture. “Not for real, GOATman.”

That was an asinine inquiry. He shook his head with a laugh. 

Obviously he liked redheads. No one could have survived extended contact with Dick’s goddamn menagerie of redheaded hottie hangalongs as a teenager without forming a preference. But it was inoculating. The average redhead on the street could not shake him anymore. He had managed to stay cool under the pressure of extended conversation with redheads hotter than these civilians could have ever dreamed of. Fuck. 

BicepMan sent crying emojis. Jason waved it off with a hand and tried very hard to forget his teenage fixations. “Whatever. You can live, but you now owe me a picture– no, a picture of food. If it looks shit, I am going to make fun of it on my next stream, so you had better put your whole ass into it.” He tried his potatoes. “Mm, very good.” He showed a forkful to the camera. “Cheers. Fuck off now.” He cut the feed and then tore through his meal. 

He had a simple meal for his evening stream. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but this was really growing on him. Maybe Jason was one of the lonely losers who would benefit from eating meals with someone. He considered this as he chatted back and forth with GOATman. “This is nice,” he said out loud. “Maybe I should go eat with my family more.” 

GOATman sent him 100 dollars. 

“Jesus,” Jason said, startled. “I don’t need your money. But thanks. You think it’s a good idea?” He wondered, cutting a slice of his tart. 

“I think your family would love to have you over.”

The sincerity nearly made his skin crawl. Jason fidgeted. “I don’t know, my dad and I have a troubled relationship.” He sighed and put down his fork to rub at his face. “We’re both stubborn.”

“You can resolve it.” 

“You are so positive, GOATman.” Jason huffed a laugh. “Maybe. I’ll see my Dad later, maybe I’ll see if he wants me over.” 

Later that night on patrol, Jason made a point of swinging to the north end of his patrol radius. He tended to overlap with Bruce’s route there.

As expected, bat ears pricked up in the distance. Jason tried not to fidget as he waited. “Red Hood,” Batman said, landing down. “Everything alright?” 

Jason nodded. “It’s good,” he said, feeling very stupid. How was he going to walk the conversation around to maybe coming over for dinner? “I-”

Red Robin cut into the comm line. “Batman, do we have any indication that Luthor is up to something unusual?”

Batman went tense. “Why?”

“A localized EMP went off and ruined Superboy’s phone, laptop, and his family smartfridge today at 12:16 this afternoon,” Red Robin reported, sounding awfully serious for such a stupid topic. Jason stifled a snicker in his glove. “I noticed because he usually sends me thirsty- he sends a lot of reports on his days, normally.” He overcorrected himself, flustered.

Batman hummed. Jason shook his head and got out his grapple, grateful for the exit from this conversation. “Perhaps he was misusing his devices,” Batman said. “The fridge is an unfortunate casualty.”

Jason turned the channel off before he had to hear any more about Superboy’s technological woes.

Friday

“Dear Jason!”

He sat up with a start, not ten minutes after he had gone to bed. Dick was grinning at him like a ghoul, holding out his phone in the darkness of his bedroom. He was still in his Nightwing costume. His gloves were off, so Jason could see that he had a fresh manicure for the first time in a while.

‘I need bug spray or some shit.’

“...Kory,” Jason said groggily. “Good morning.” He laid back down with a groan.

“Good morning!” she chirped. “I am looking forward to our video collaboration today! What should I wear for this occasion?”

Oh, fuck. He stared at his ceiling, struck immobile by horror. He was going to be trapped in his kitchen for more than an hour with one of the most attractive people on earth. Why was this happening to him?

He turned a thoroughly wounded expression on Dick. Dick shrugged. “Wardrobe?” He prompted. 

…He did not want to pick out clothes for Kory. That was… no, that was dangerous territory.

Why was she asking him? Was this a normal thing for a celebrity to care about?

Jason ran a hand through his hair and cursed his life. “I don’t care,” he said. “A ballgown. A swimsuit. Old sweats. You literally always look good.” A bit too much sincerity crept into his voice at the end. 

Dick flinched.

“You as well!” She sang out. “Let us make a bargain! We will wear the shortest of shorts, and shirts that show our arms! The viewers will find it extremely invigorating.” He just knew she was flexing on the other end of the line.

Jason thought over that for a moment. “I don’t think I own Daisy Dukes.”

Dick tossed the phone onto his bed and started shuffling through Jason’s dresser. He retrieved a pair of jeans and then walked off with them into another room. 

It took a moment for the pin to drop. He sat up. “Dick!”

A rip cut through the air as Dick converted his jeans into shorts.

Jason laid back down mournfully. “I have short shorts,” he reported to Kory. “Okay. Wanna coordinate a color or anything?”

She cheerfully demurred. Jason ended the call and then hauled his sore body out to glare at his shitty older brother. “Don’t you have any pride? You know damn well that putting Kory on my livestream is gonna be really weird.”

Dick shrugged. “This hurts, but my rent is paid up for the rest of the year,” he said philosophically. “I can cry into a pile of paid bills.” He held up a pair of horrifically short cut-off jeans with a self satisfied smirk. “I’m going to get a car. You need to work in a reference to this credit card company by the way, say you use them for shopping for groceries.” He tossed a contract on the bed.

Jason blinked. “…How much money am I making?” He asked, baffled. “I haven’t looked at my accounts.” 

Dick rolled his eyes. “You’re an asshole,” he said fondly, in a truly incredible bit of projection. “Sleep tight!” He slammed the door on his way out. 

Jason laid there for a long and miserable moment, mind ticking unwillingly. He wanted to sleep. He needed to sleep, especially if he was going to deal with how catastrophically hot Kory was. Jason swallowed, hard. He tried not to think about her triceps. In his house. Kory and her hair and her everything, in his home. Holy shit.

He couldn’t sleep. He had to get up and scrub his home from top to bottom. What if Kory pulled the fridge out from the wall and saw the crumbs back there, huh? What if she needed to crawl under his sofa and saw that he had used it to hide an imperfection in the wall molding? 

Once that was done, Jason took his nervous energy to the grocery store and changed his damn mind half a dozen times about what he wanted to make. 

“Don’t be mad,” Dick texted him, an hour before go time.

What did that mean.

Jason called him immediately. Dick rejected the call. He stared at the phone, genuinely fearful. What did that even mean? How could it get worse?

He called again.

Dick’s phone was off.

He dialed up Barbie. “Hey, what is Dick up to?” Jason asked nervously, as soon as the line connected. 

She laughed in his ear and ended the call.

He paced around his kitchen. “That’s cool,” he said. “That’s fine. It probably doesn’t mean anything.” 

He found out what it meant when Kory knocked on his door and breezed in a cloud of perfume to land a kiss on his cheek. “Jason!” She announced, way too loudly. “We are so excited!” Her incredible hair sort of lashed and sparked in the air.

He reeled, a hand to his cheek. “What,” he said, like a dumbass. We? Oh no. It was a plural situation.

Roy Harper came in after her and kicked the door shut, arms… out. And bulging. “Yeah, we brought some stuff,” he said, as if Jason had noticed the goddamn tote bags he was hefting. Jason hadn’t gotten that far.

Jason made a wounded sound. 

‘If Wally West or Barbara Gordon shows up, I’m leaving. This won’t be my apartment anymore. I’m not strong enough for this. Is Dick mad at me?’

“What’s that?” he said weakly, trying to get his hormones under control. Jason held onto the countertop to stay standing. He needed help. He needed one of those LifeAlert devices. Someone should call an ambulance immediately. His heart was going too fast and it hurt.

Roy grinned at him. It was so white and perfect that it hurt his brain a little. He dropped the totes on the counter and then dug out two honeydew melons. “Perfect melons!” he said, holding them up to his chest.

Jason made a sound like a strangled cat.

Kory threw her head back and laughed. “That is too funny, friend Roy,” she said. She floated over and snatched out some grapefruits. “They resemble your large pectorals!”

Roy grinned at her and sort of jiggled the fruit. “Thanks for noticing,” he said, and then he looked back at Jason. “Some of your followers had some rather… scientific curiosity.”

He tried to make a noise. Nothing came out.

“Yes,” Kory said, idly tossing fruit up and down. “You crushed a root vegetable in your hand. It has spurred inquiries such as, “Can a melon be cracked open in the bend of your arm? Will it crack or be crushed, or will it be unaffected?” Her grin turned extremely mischievous. “I thought we should all try it!” She dashed in between the two men and gave a squeeze to each of their arms. “That is why I thought that we should not wear the sleeves today! It will be easier to clean ourselves.”

Dick was a dead man. He could pay his bills in hell.

They started the stream. He introduced his guests. Jason was in such a fugue state that he knew damn well he wouldn’t remember what had happened. He stammered his way through the introduction so severely that Kory patted his back and then cheerfully announced they were going to make fruit juice!

“We will begin with guavas.” Kory pulled them out with a flourish. “Let us crush them with our hands!” She grinned to the camera. 

Jason managed one look at her crushing fruit between her palms and then went back into survival mode. He wanted to lick her hands. He wanted to join a monastery.

“Next, oranges. I wanted to see if we could juice them inside the rind. What do you think?” Roy gave the screen a winsome smile and a piece of fruit a teasing squeeze.

“Oh!” Kory floated upwards in her excitement. “Let us take turns crushing them with our biceps! Everyone, please observe.” 

“This is debatably sanitary,” Roy said, and then effortlessly crushed his orange over the bowl. It flattened and spurted out violently.

Jesus.

Jason watched, transfixed, as juice dripped down his arm. Kory crowed a laugh and then copied him. Jason let himself be bullied into it next. Why not? This might as well be happening to him. 

HawaiiHunk2 returned just long enough to type up an all caps scream. He then disappeared from the list of viewers. 

Relatable. He was right. For once in his miserable and horny little life, HawaiiHunk2 was right. It was better to run away.

“Next!” Kory brandished two melons. The chat exploded into incoherency. “Let us attempt the honeyed melons! Their rind is very thick.”

Jason looked at the orange juice drying on his arm. 

“Looks sticky,” Roy said casually. Too casually. “Need me to clean that up for you?” He stuck his tongue out ever so slightly.

Jason reflexively made the sign of the cross. 

“We also have watermelons!”

“God help me,” Jason begged. He gripped the counter hard.

“I have heard that it is an internet challenge to crush them in one’s muscular thighs! We, too, shall crush watery melons!”

“Yeah, buddy,” Roy said, extremely unhelpful. “Lucky we are all in such short shorts.” He twined around to show the camera his flank, lifting a leg. His thigh muscles flexed.

Jason didn’t really remember the rest of the stream. He didn’t remember ending it. It was sort of a rush of blood and hormones. He just survived the experience, honestly.

When it was all over, Kory and Roy each kissed a cheek and then bustled out with cheerful efficiency. They said something about going to blow up a warlord. Or something. He didn’t really know English anymore.

“Good luck,” Jason said, dazed. He sat down on his floor. His laptop and phone chimed constantly with notifications. Me too, buddy, he thought. 

His window slid open and Dick crawled in like Sadako. “Yooooo,” the world’s worst sibling crooned. He tumbled into the room with a roll and then landed in a crouch. He giggled to himself, the white light from his phone reflecting on his face. “Oh, hey, did you see Tim’s message? Someone set off another EMP at the Kent farm during your livestream.” He snickered. An app made a ping noise, as a transaction registered. Dick threw his head back and cackled. “I have infinite money now! I don’t care about using paid vs unpaid leave anymore. I am going to get a 401k and health insurance! I am never going to die.” He threw himself back into the sofa and kicked his feet in the air.

Jason looked at his phone, seeking something that would numb the pain of his brother’s happiness. 

His back went rigid.

He opened his messages. He scrolled past the 102 unopened messages from Kon, as was his habit. The top one said, “I am free ton….”

That was unimportant. He had unopened messages from both Kory and Roy.

Roy

You looked hot as hell today. 🔥 u free tonight? 👅 🫦 what else them thighs do?  🍈 

Kory

Jason! 💕 You have the cleanest sofa I have ever seen. ✨ Let us spend some time upon it together and cause it to become filthy and possibly broken! 💋 🍑  💪 

He looked at Dick. He looked back at his phone and the R U up style messages from two of Dick’s exes. He looked again at how heinously happy Dick was. 

“Hey, Dick,” Jason said slowly. He felt a terrible smile creeping across his face. 

He had the power to make all of that go away. 

Dick stopped smiling. He went very still, like a meerkat in the grass. “…What up?” 

“C’mere.”

[fagtainsparklez]

Hey I've been observing from afar through your reaction blogging, I haven't been in mcyt as much since the dsmp ended but I still care about a lot of the people in the mcyt circle and I'm interested in what goes on - care to give a rundown of what happened at this twitch rivals thing everyone keeps talking about? (no pressure only if you want to) Aside from the fact I'm sure it was terribly run like most twitch rival events are, but it sounds like there was more to it than that

okay so. i am going to be missing quite a few details because i missed a day myself + my streamer could not care less, so i heavily encourage others to add on stuff i missed

this was a multi-day competition, running for 5 days with prize rewards from 1k to 100k. it started with i think 150 players, with select numbers of people getting eliminated each round. day 1-2 are fairly normal, at least for twitch rivals. of all the games that got played through the whole event, i'd say like 1 was actually good, and maybe 2 were decent, at best. most are bad, poorly-executed, poorly thought out, or just boring in terms of both player enjoy-ability and content creation.

DAY 3 EDIT:

now, sapnap's been sapnap for this entire event already. obnoxious, a bad sport, but most notably, playing DMCA'd songs. the event ran on proximity chat, so while he was unmuted, everyone around him would also be subject to said songs, which could mute vods at worst and terminate accounts at best. most people are fed up with him at this point. while everyone's trying to come up with solutions for the glitch, sapnap spams the discord with useless shit. couriway calls him out in the discord, calling him annoying and obnoxious, then later calling him a cunt in twitch chat. sapnap uses couriway and feinberg's name in his stream title for clickbait and talks shit about them + their friends (hbg/house builder gang). he also makes some weird comment asking if couri is homophobic because sap was talking about having skeppy's dick in his mouth?? or something?? i'm unsure exactly how day 3's issue of the glitch resolved.

day 4 is also your average experience with your usual range of average to horribly painful games. sapnap continues to be a bitch and not take responsibility for his stans attacking anyone in sight, but what else is new

day 5 is. bad. the game set for deciding the final competitors can be cheesed (if you let someone else do all the work, you can punch them in the last second and steal their win) and eliminates like 20 people at once. on top of that, a glitch happens that leaves the server on standby for at least 30 minutes while admins decide what to do. firebreathman sends a picture of a bare naked ass in the discord. someone else sends a photo of their debit card. streamers entertain themselves in various ways, including growing a cactus (fulham), playing osu (purpled), collecting other people's streams for their overlay (fruitberries), playing slime rancher (badboyhalo), and building real-life furniture (couriway). tubbo (who was already eliminated at this point) starts jumping between streams and asking in chat for the tea. the game is eventually replayed, deciding the final 4 players, but it's just as broken and at that point, no one wants to be there anymore. it's revealed through multiple streamers (purpled, i believe also feinberg) that twitch rivals games are not tested before being ran. the only testing done was a stress test to see if the server could handle all original 150-some players. this explains why the games are so bad and poorly organized (some games take over an hour, others barely 30 minutes).

the final four are sapnap, shadoune, sneegsnag, and i think feinberg. it's the most anticlimatic game of connect 4 you can imagine. sneeg eliminates sapnap, and shadoune eliminates fein. notably, fein's game glitches during a throw, which despite being obviously a glitch, the coordinators brush off as being "part of the game". fein and multiple other streamers spend time analyzing every pov frame by frame and all agree that yeah, that was a glitch. shadoune and sneeg are left for the finals. they come to an agreement that this is stupid and a horrible event. tired of this bullshit, they purposefully stall the games and run a podcast for approximately 2 hours, forcing the coordinators to bend to their commands hunger games-style. essentially since the first glitch of the day people were begging twitch to just split the money, something that wouldn't be easy according to tubbo, because everything is pre-signed and delegated before the event. sneeg and shadoune give no fucks, and force the coordinators to split the money anyway, winning the day through the power of friendship. i cannot stress enough how no one wanted to fucking be there by the end of all this.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you're not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU -- plus!reader)

Note: yeah...

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

This isn’t where you pictured yourself. Even as a cynic, it’s not a job you would aspire too. You’re realistic. Practical. You do what needs to be done. And you suppose, at the end of the day, that’s all this is. Cleaning is rarely enjoyable but it needs to be done. 

You have your kit. The agency gave that to you for a $30 fee. Wonderful, you get to pay for supplies. Business is business. Just another way of the world. The bucket is weighed down by the cleaners, the sponges, clothes, etc. The vacuum is a rental and weighs down your trunk with the broom and mop from your own apartment. You’re not buying a whole new set just for this. They’ll do the job. 

You can settle for that. For what will do. For the bare minimum. Life has been a lot of that. You’re not the only one living that way so why feel sorry for yourself. Get through it, get over it. 

The map on your phone leads you to the address. It’s a big place. One of those high-end townhouses. Not new but renovated. Protected by some city ordinance for ‘historical preservation’. Under that, they sell for nothing less than two million. Yep, you expect that. Logic and practicality are easy bedmates. 

You park and feed the meter. Again, paying to make money. The world runs on money. Put in a little and hope for a few cents to get you by. 

You get out and grab your bucket. You'll come back for the rest when you need them. Zuli, the woman who went over the expectations with you assured you that most clients are away during a service call. They don’t like mingling with the help. If they are around, you likely won’t see them. Or they won’t acknowledge you. 

You can suck up your pride. It’s that city mindset. When you’re on the subway, you keep your head down, you don’t make eye contact. If you hadn’t taken this damned job, you wouldn’t be slogging through New York traffic in the company pinto. A job is a job, money is money, everything is simple if you just parse down your expectations. 

You climb the front steps and as you go to ring the doorbell, a lens built in to protect the overpriced property, the door opens. You retract your hand in surprise. Bad timing? 

The man that greets you is tall and blond. He wears a button up; brown plaid, and khakis. He looks like a cut-out husband from a 1950s advertisement for laundry soap. ‘Give your a fresh scent’ or whatever. 

 Strangely, he also tweaks your memory. Do you know him from somewhere? That’s not possible. You don’t know anyone you’re not forced to know. 

“Mister...” You lift your phone and check the app. “...Rogers.” 

Oh, right. Steve Rogers. You thought it was a coincidence. It can’t be a very uncommon name. You really didn’t anticipate the Captain America opening the door, even in Brooklyn. 

“You must be...” he says your name with a smile. “You can just call me Steve.” 

He holds out his hand. You look at it and stiffly set down the kit. You shake it, out of courtesy. Just your luck. You get one that wants to chat. 

“I’ll give you the tour,” he squeezes your hand firmly before he lets go. “You can get the lay of the land.” 

Another false promise. You should be used to those by now. Those written directions Zuli mentioned are out the window. You get the full curated walk through. 

“Thanks,” you nod and bend your knees. 

He’s quicker than you. Stronger too. Obviously. But the way he easily scoops up the bucket, it’s like he’s picking up no more than a pillow. The act adds to the hint of mortification in prickling behind your ears. Here you are, in sweats and a bandana, in a nice neighbourhood, and now you’re faced with the primped and pristine golden boy. 

He backs up and gestures you inside, the bottle of bleach wiggling in the bucket. You enter and stop on the matter. You slip out of your shoes as he shuts the door. He turns, coming close, close enough that his warm radiates through the back of your hoodie. 

“You can hang up your sweater,” he reaches to tap a peg on the coat rack mounted on the wall. 

“Sure,” you unzip the hoodie and hang it. 

The house is nice. Organized. You wonder why he needs a maid but then again, you suppose even if he can do it himself, he might not want to. Or have the time. How much leisure does he have when he isn’t saving the world. 

It’s a pretty standard layout. You’ve seen homes with a similar floor plan by the fixtures are loose and corroded and the floorboards splintered. Nice places, just aged. Owned by those who can’t afford hired help. 

You notice a few original pieces, restored, but emblazoned with the patent that demarcates them as turn of the twentieth century. Almost as old as the man leading you around. You go through the first floor, the second floor, and come back down. 

“So, I’ll be around here and there. I don’t really have a solid schedule but I’ll try to have you come in around the same time, make it easy on you,” he explains. He has a hand on his hip as he gestures with the other; like he’s ordering around his soldiers, rather, his avengers. 

“Right,” you nod again.  

Taking orders isn’t that hard. They remind you of someone else but they’re not difficult. It’s harder when you don’t know what others want. When disappointing them is easy. 

“Any questions?” He asks. 

“No,” you shake your head. You stand awkwardly, waiting. You clear your throat. “I can take that.” 

You reach for the kit and he flinches as he looks down. He chuckles, “oh, oh yeah. Heavy. Let me know where to put it. I’ll save you the pulled muscle.” 

“Really, I can handle it,” you grab the handle, next to his hand. He resists for a moment then lets you take it. He could keep it from you if he wanted. That thought is something else. This man is powerful in more ways than one. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, and whatever you need, water or whatever, let me know,” he offers as he slides one heel back. “I’m up in my office today so you can do that last.” 

“Makes sense,” you accept and turn away.  

Kitchen first, that’s the most tedious. 

[glowettee]

🕶 she ghosted the groupchat & built an empire

hey lovelies!! ✨

so i've been thinking about this a lot lately... like how we're all constantly connected but somehow feeling more drained than ever?? and it hit me that sometimes the most revolutionary thing you can do is just... disappear for a bit??

i literally had to turn my phone off for three days last month because my creative energy was being sucked dry by all these group chats that were going nowhere. like, bestie, why am i reading 87 messages about someone's ex's cousin's new haircut when i could be building my dream life instead??

so here's my unfiltered thoughts on strategic isolation + how it literally changed everything for me...

✧ protecting your energy isn't selfish, it's essential ✧

let's be honest - we're all just walking energy fields. and every notification, every "hey girl, you free?" text, every random zoom call is either feeding your field or draining it. i started tracking my energy levels in this little pink journal (yes, elle woods style but make it productive) and noticed that certain people and activities were literally vampire-draining me.

some hard truths about protecting your time:

• not everyone deserves access to you

• "sorry, i can't" is a complete sentence

• your dreams require your full attention

• boundaries aren't mean, they're necessary

• your future self will thank you for saying no today

i started implementing what i call "ghost protocols" where i literally just... stop responding for periods of time. not forever! just long enough to recalibrate. it feels uncomfortable at first (i literally had anxiety sweats) but then something magical happens - you remember who you are without all the noise.

✧ digital detox rituals that actually work ✧

okay so everyone talks about digital detoxes but they make it sound so basic like "just turn off your phone lol" which... no. here's what actually works:

1. schedule your disappearance (sounds dramatic but it's just good planning) - i block off "ghost time" in my calendar just like i would a meeting

2. create a hyperfocus sanctuary - mine is this corner of my room with no wifi, just candles, my journal, and a vintage alarm clock. no devices allowed within 10 feet.

3. implement the 5/1/3 rule - for every 5 hours of deep work, allow 1 hour of connection, followed by 3 hours of integration time where you process what you've created

4. batch your responses - i only check messages twice daily now (12pm and 6pm) and i use templates for most replies which sounds cold but actually gives me more energy for meaningful conversations later

5. practice saying "that doesn't work for me" without explaining yourself - hardest thing i've ever done but most rewarding

✧ hyperfocus rituals that built my empire ✧

the truth that nobody tells you is that success isn't grinding 24/7... it's protecting your focus like it's the most precious resource on earth (because it literally is).

my non-negotiable focus rituals:

• morning pages but make them strategic - i write 3 pages about my vision every morning before touching my phone

• the 90/30 method - work in complete silence for 90 minutes, then take a luxurious 30 minute break (no exceptions)

• environment switching - i have different spaces for different types of work (creative work happens by the window, admin work at my desk, planning happens on the floor with a giant paper)

• sensory anchors - learned this from a few psychology articles online, stayed w/ it foreverrr -> specific scents, sounds, and tastes that tell my brain "it's empire building time" (for me it's this fancy bergamot candle + instrumental lo-fi + earl grey tea)

i know this all sounds intense but listen... while everyone was busy commenting on instagram posts and overthinking text messages, i built something real. something that matters. something that's mine.

sometimes the most rebellious thing you can do is disconnect in order to connect more deeply with your purpose. and yes, people might get annoyed when you don't respond right away. they might even talk about you in those same group chats you left. but honestly? that's just background noise when you're focused on building something meaningful.

your time is literally the only non-renewable resource you have. protect it fiercely.

xoxo, mindy 🤍

p.s. what's one conversation or obligation you could ghost this week to get closer to your dreams? i promise the world won't end... but your empire might just begin.

⋆ psst. i made a free workbook just for you. it’s soft, dark-academia, and full of real advice. get it here: deprogramming your trauma-coded ambition