#it is literally just people on the internet hiding behind the face of anonymity

[achaotichuman]

After extensive research (looking at my moots reblogs and my own) I have come to the conclusion that this is what the pro vs anti side of ACOTAR actually looks like.

Anti side- We believe that SJM isn't good at portraying the themes she uses in her stories, and she doesn't do her characters justice.

Pro side- We believe SJM is good at portraying the themes she uses in her stories, and she does do her characters justice.

People who are insane and should not be a reflection of either side- IF YOU LIKE *INSERT CHARACTER* YOU DESERVE TO FUCKING DIE!!!!!

This post was sparked by this post, @wingsdippedingold

[zilritsch]

op your take on ctommy's childhood was so god-awful and inaccurate that i literally felt my blood pressure drop as a wave of bloodlust overtook me. i don't want you dead but if i were to be put in a room with you right now i don't think i'd be able to keep my hands to myself. ok? i hope you get the support you need because there's no way you are intentionally this ignorant on ctommy lore and still choose to make comments on it.

So, hello. And ha-ha, dude, if you want to hint that you want me dead(because when people don’t want someone’s death they don’t write but, right after this phrase), at least say it to my face, without hiding behind anonymity. You're a cowardly little idiot.

If you didn't know headcanons are not canon for the characters, and nowhere does it say that Tommy had a bad/normal/good childhood. We do not know not only about Tommy's childhood, but also about the childhood of many other characters and we can well interpret it as we want, it will not be canon in any case. So how I interpret the character, especially in MY AU, is entirely my business. And if you suddenly think otherwise, then this is not a reason to threaten me and dump your problems with aggression on strangers on the Internet, go learn media literacy and etiquette before writing to people.

Eh, and if you want to hear my opinion, why c!Tommy is stealing, you should have just asked. And if you think that they do this only because of a bad childhood, then you are wrong.

c!Tommy in my AU/headcanon is just a little egoist at first (like many teenagers), who doesn’t think much, who partly wants to seem cool, partly wants to attract the attention of older and cooler guys, and partly because he is allowed to do so and quite they let go of theft and hey! Others do it too, why can't he?

He is not bad, but not good either, there are simply too many factors that stack up in his favor and he decides not to neglect them.

That's all, you could calmly ask the question and not wish for my death. People can interpret the actions of characters differently and this is not necessarily a bad thing, and the reasons for the same thing can also be different.

Let's return to your etiquette, when a person makes a mistake, you should at least say what he made a mistake and provide evidence, otherwise everything you said is ordinary nonsense that you came up with.

Bye baby.

[nolanhattrick]

Hey! The vast majority of non voters are people who are in such maligned, marginalized circumstances that voting has never materially benefitted them ever, but you've never given a shit about their circumstances because you're in a position where voting DOES effect you, and THAT is your privilege!

You calling the poorest, most disabled, most violently oppressed people in the US "at fault" for the political crisis for not voting is actually you being a disgusting classist racist! And also politically illiterate in what a normal voter turnout is under democracy. Genuinely hope you learn to extend empathy to people who've never felt any ounce of political power in their life and RIGHTLY so not trust the system to advocate for them, you vile piece of shit 👍

hey, listen. i know you're angry and probably very very young and likely wouldn't be able to sniff out a case of "not for you, rabbit ears" if it were staring you in the face. but voting does actually materially benefit you, always.

i understand recency bias has influenced a good majority of y'all that have just become eligible or just started to pay attention to ampol in a serious way either since oct 7 or since mid 2023 when campaigning started up again. but it shows your lack of attention, insight, and political knowledge to say that voting does not benefit people that are marginalized. especially voting in us elections.

i am one of those people. i grew up on SNAP and WIC and independently still qualify for SNAP. the only reason i am not on SNAP is because i live with my mother and washington state considers me a dependent with combined income. i have been multiply disabled for my entire life and have more medical debt than you can fathom. i am not white. i am visibly transgender. all of these things impact my ability to vote in person. but you didn't consider any of these things before you sent this, did you?

i also should not have to qualify these things when i make the point to stir and promote political engagement. the only point where i politically have a leg up is that i vote absentee, because my state has mail in ballots by default, and it's somewhat easy to register in washington state. that's it. that's the only part of this where i have it easier.

we all benefit from political engagement. voting is the most crucial part of political engagement. protesting is useless when it is illegal. writing to your representatives is useless when your representatives are fascists. sending money overseas is useless when you are legally no longer allowed to have a job or a bank account. making ragebait posts on twitter and resharing infographics on your insta stories does fuckall when you live in a country ruled by an 80 year old nazi. but you, hiding behind those cute anonymous sunglasses enjoying your time on the internet like the nineteen year old jobless nobody like you are, don't understand that. because you're angry, and you're taking that anger out on someone that is also angry instead of directing it somewhere productive. and here i am doing the same because of it. but i'm also gonna give you some fucking information at the same time. because you wasted my morning sending this to me.

project 2025 is going to happen if we do not vote blue across the board and at that point you will literally not be allowed any form of political engagement. life will be worse for you than it already is now.

also, just because "normal" during a midterm means "less than during the primaries and generals", doesn't mean the turnout we have during the primaries and generals is something good or something to strive for. we need to be better than that if we actually want to move past the stale fucking 80 year old center right democrats we currently have speaking for us. we need to aim for 100% voter turnout. i will not settle for less.

there are also plenty of things elected democrats have done that have materially benefited us. plenty of things the Biden Administration has done! but again none of you fucks are paying attention!

inflation reduction act and medicare - access to prescriptions for disabled people, highlighting insulin caps and the ability to negotiate even lower. we are paying significantly less than we were before this legislation was signed.

bipartisan infrastructure law - specific provisions for women and minority owned businesses, public transport, fish and wildlife, indigenous land.

bipartisan safer communities act - gun control legislation, expanding access to telehealth under medicaid and CHIP, expanding the medicaid and CHIP networks, allows NICS to look into potentially disqualifying juvenile records and closes the "boyfriend loophole", provides multiple grants for multiple mental health services.

respect for marriage act - defines marriage as any valid legal union between two people and

DEA rescheduling of cannabis - oct 2022 biden asked the DEA to consider rescheduling cannabis. reschedulings are rarely denied - deschedulings are rarely approved. this will almost guaranteed happen.

electoral count act reform (2) - makes it exceedingly difficult for another january sixth to happen

local democrats also codified abortion access and protections in michigan, ohio, and washington. local republicans have been a nightmare for it in florida and arizona. dook at what julie mccluskie has done for colorado.

and again, with resources like how to vote in every state, the excuse of "i can't" is lazy as hell at this point. people can literally show up at your door and help you fill out an absentee ballot or get to a polling station to vote curbside, people are allowed at the voting booth to help you with a language barrier or processing issue if you need it.

but. like i said. continue to be angry. continue to rage in my inbox, behind your anonymous sunglasses. continue to be disengaged. and then be all fucking shocked pikachu face when trump and the like-minded GOP get voted in, and everyone in southwest asia gets bombed to shit, and every queer USian gets legislated out of existence, and every latino not born here gets deported. continue to make this a me issue, and not a disengaged voter bloc issue. because this is all about me, someone that has voted in every single election since august 2018, and totally not about the youth vote that has notoriously been disengaged and fucking useless in american politics. sure babe.

[football-and-fanfics]

Hate - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Request: hey dunno if this will be helpful or not but you said you was having a mental block for the trent fic but maybe you could just write about the liverpool squad coming to check on him after the match and get mad at him for not telling anyone how he had been feeling because they care about him? agin not sure if this will help but you never know haha! have a good day :) Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of anxiety, mental struggles and receiving (online) hate. A/N: Ah, thank you so much for trying to help me, I really appreciate that! 💖 And of course this imagine came out like water out of a faucet 🤪 I changed it slightly from the request, though. Hope you don't mind.😁

If Trent could have just walked off the pitch today, even before full-time, he would have done so without hesitation. Lately he was struggling with his form, and literally every aspect of the game felt like mammoth task to him at the moment, with today's match being no exception. Somewhere around the 80th minute came Trent's breaking point. He made an error which directly lead to their opponent scoring, and Trent could feel himself start to become undone. Tears burned behind his eyes and he found it difficult to concentrate anymore, as he silently spun out of mental control. The shrill sound of the final whistle was a cruel form of liberation to Trent, although he knew the real pain was only just starting... All he wanted to do right now was cry and hide from the world. Hide from the comments of sports commentators and people on social media, who would undoubtedly slaughter him once again for his performance tonight. Trent hurried across the pitch to get back inside as fast as he could. He didn't want to look at the crowd, he didn't want to speak to his teammates, and he even avoided Klopp.

Trent reached the relative quiet of the Liverpool dressing room, and was glad to learn he was the first one back there. Suddenly Trent felt unable to do anything anymore. The mere thought of what would be said about him on the internet tonight made him so unbelievably anxious. He sank to the ground, in the middle of the dressing room, burying his face in his hands. Tears spilled into his hands, as it all became too much. "Trentski?" Trent wasn't sure how long he had sat there until Andy found him. The Scot sounded genuinely worried for him. "Are you okay?" Andy sat on his haunches next to Trent, resting a hand on his friend's back. Trent looked up, shaking his head. "I'm worthless." "What are you on about?" Andy frowned. "Is this about all that online hate stuff?" Before Trent could answer, Jordan walked in. One look at his teammates sitting on the floor made him turn around to Virgil, who was behind him, and tell the Dutchman to keep everyone out of the dressing room for a few minutes longer. Jordan quietly closed the door behind him. "This doesn't look good." Andy looked up at his captain, sadly shaking his head. "Trent?" Jordan sat down on the floor on Trent's other side. He didn't need any explanation to know that the problem was with Trent. The young defender sat shivering beside him, looking lost and miserable. "Remember what I told you when you first joined this team?" Jordan sounded comforting and fatherly. "That I could always talk to you about anything," Trent sniffled. "Right," Jordan confirmed, "and I'm sure the same goes for Robbo." "Absolutely," Andy immediately agreed. Jordan allowed a short silence before he spoke again. "Maybe it's time you talked to us, mate." Trent looked from Andy to Jordan, searching to put into words what he felt. "I'm not good enough for this team," Trent finally confessed, hanging his head. "Everyone's saying it. Maybe I should just accept that's how it is." Andy scoffed at the mere idea of this. "I'm sure no on in the team would agree with you on that, laddie." "No." Jordan wrapped his hand around Trent's shoulder. "We believe in you, and I'm sure I'm speaking for the entire team when I'm saying that. I know you might not be having the best period form-wise, but that doesn't immediately make you make you unworthy of this team. Better times will come." Trent sniffled again, wiping his nose on the long sleeves of his undershirt. These words eased his mind somewhat, and he was grateful for Jordan's and Andy's concern for him, but he knew it would still be a long road to actually feeling better. "Maybe, for your well-being, you should stay off social media for a while," Andy suggested, "I don't like you getting so affected by it." Trent nodded. "I will." "And if this ever happens again, you feeling this bad, you talk to us immediately," Jordan urged once more, "please don't wait until you break down like this again. Robbo and I care about you, the whole team cares about you, and we hate to see you so miserable." Andy rose to his feet, and pulled Trent up with him. "Remember that we're always here for you." "You're important to this team," Jordan threw in, "and no amount of hate, online or otherwise, is ever going to change that." Trent smiled briefly. These words, spoken by two of the people he admired most, meant the world to him. "But what if this bothers me every day, though?" Andy clasped Trent's shoulder. "Than we'll talk every day. If that's what you need, than that's what we'll do."

Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @de-geas, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001 TAA tags: @footballffbarbiex, @sanchoj7 PL tags: @ella33 LFC tags: @candlelitutopia, @percervall Add me to the tags list, too! For more of my TAA imagines, click hereGeneral masterlist

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I've pre-ordered Grace Petrie's album that's coming out on March 8, and I think everyone else should also do that (and I think everyone should do it on Bandcamp rather than those other things because that's what lets you actually download and own your music instead of paying monthly or yearly to rent access to it for as long as the platform keeps hosting it, also Bandcamp is the way to buy music and have the highest percentage of your money go to the artist, here ends the PSA), but mainly this post is to say one of the songs from it is streaming for free already and it's really really lovely:

Has her voice gotten even better? Probably not, it was always beautiful, but I listened to this song for the first time on break at work at yesterday, in an empty classroom in a brief break in the middle of a day of chaos when I opened the email from her mailing list about the new track out now/album out for pre-order, and was really really struck by the amazingly strong vocals. So nice. I might have gotten a touch emotional at hearing something so beautiful in said empty classroom.

It's fine, not the first time she's done that to me. I got to see her live when she came to Canada in September and was definitely trying to hide from my dad who was next to me the small tears just from being so overwhelmed from being in the same room as her. Also her stand-up show Butch Ado About Nothing was one of three stand-up shows to make me cry last year, but was the only one to make me, like, really properly cry instead of just tearing up a bit. Is that the goal of most stand-up specials? Also made me laugh a lot, to be clear. It did succeed in the goal of stand-up specials to make people laugh.

I was going to now post a picture of the thing I have that's signed by her, but then I started writing a longer story about how that happened and sorry, I'm going to use this as an excuse to write this whole story again even though I already wrote it a few months ago because it's so fucking cool guys, but look the main takeaway from this post is that I'm excited for her new album and people should definitely listen to that new song.

(Warning: rarely seen pictures of my face behind the cut. Technically even something where you if you look hard enough you could see the name of the city where I live. I used to worry more about avoiding that on this blog because I really like being anonymous but since then I've relaxed a little because the internet is large and like four people read this blog and probably none of you are trying to dox me.)

So, I'd gone to Montreal to see Josie Long live in July, saw her on the same night as Tom Ballard and I'd say that was one of the top ten best nights of my entire life, and after the show I was hoping to run into Josie Long and was sort of walking around the area hoping I might happen to see her but wasn't about to do any more than that due to shyness and/or a reasonable desire to not appear creepy, and just as I was considering where I should go I literally nearly walked into her on the sidewalk, and I said a few wildly incoherent things and then pulled out a plastic bag that contained a pen and something I hoped she'd sign so the fact that I'd held onto that all through her show and Tom Ballard's sort of got rid of any illusions that I hadn't planned to run into her and may have destroyed any efforts to not appear creepy, and those efforts may have been further destroyed by the look on her face when I opened the bag because whatever she expected to be in there was definitely not a cardstock printout of a poster of the cover art for the cassette tapes released over ten years ago of her 2010 and 2011 stand-up shows. But I got her to sign it anyway and she was so nice and so kind even though like I said I was an absolute mess, I definitely managed to tell her I loved her recently released book but besides that I just talked incoherently for about thirty seconds and then ran away, only to go back twenty seconds later to say so I'm so sorry I forgot to ask if I could get a picture with you, and she said yes she was surprised I hadn't asked before. And then she asked me if I minded if she put her arm around me for the picture, even though I had made it very clear with my behaviour that that would be the coolest thing that's ever happened to me, because explicit consent over implied consent is important and she's so cool!

Anyway. Then in September I saw Grace Petrie live in my own city, and during the intermission she came out to sign CDs and things, and I bought a CD of an album that I already owned from Bandcamp and then got her to sign it just as a ruse to make me seem like a normal person/if you're going to ask an artist to talk to you for a few minutes it's nice if you bribe them by buying their stuff, and then, if Josie Long wasn't expecting me to pull out a Josie Long poster from the early 2010s and ask her to sign it, Grace Petrie definitely wasn't expecting me to do that, she looked quite shocked. I hastily told her I'm very sorry and I hope she's not offended that I want her to sign someone else's thing because I really am I massive fan of her music and I have all her albums but it's just that I love the idea of having both her and Josie Long's signatures on one thing because they've done touring together and are kind of associated, but unfortunately the only thing I have Josie Long's signature on is a Josie Long poster so would she possibly mind signing this other person's thing? And Grace Petrie was so very kind about it and got really excited to see I had that and said no of course she doesn't mind and Josie Long is one of her best friends and after she signed it she took a picture of it with her own phone so she could send the picture to Josie Long. And then I awkwardly said here's my dad I brought him with me and can he take a picture of us? And he did.

And then as a Christmas gift for me at the end of the year, my parents took that poster and got it framed. When I moved into my new place the month I made sure it got a prominent place on the wall, right next to the printout of the Bugle quote poster that @nyomkitten designed and also my artwork from Nova Scotia/Cape Breton and Newfoundland, just all my favourite things in one place:

Coolest fucking thing ever, all of that. I actually hadn't put that whole story in one post before, having just made posts about each part as it happened. I like having it all in one place, some nice pictures to look at when I feel like great things don't happen in life. But the main point is that people should go listen to Grace Petrie's new song, it's really really lovely and reminder that Bandcamp is the place to go to buy music in ways that's best for consumers and also supports artists.

While we're at it, in case people don't know her, here's my favourite song by Grace Petrie, which she closed her set with when I saw her live, the set was so perfect and she played all her best ones and by the time she got to the end I had heard every song of hers that I'd most wanted to hear barring one, and she said this will be her last one so I thought the only thing that could make this night less than perfect is if she doesn't play that one but there's only one more and even if this isn't it it was still an amazing night and it's okay, and then she turned to the guy on stage with her Ben Moss and mouthed something to him to let him know what the last song would be and I tried to read it and could see she mouthed "The Losing Side" at him, and that was when I knew the night would in fact be perfect, and it was, the tears that I previously mentioned definitely occurred during that song because it was so special to hear it live with all these other people who appreciated it too, which is why I like that YouTube has both the album version for hearing it in its proper quality:

and nice live versions to capture a little of the atmosphere of hearing it in a room of other people:

You'd think that me trying to quit drinking would lead to fewer incoherently emotional/overly personal posts on Tumblr. Weirdly, it's kind of increased them. Because I'd mostly stopped posting on Tumblr while drunk, being more likely to write a post while drunk but save it and edit it while sober and then post it. But now that I'm not drinking, I'll just my overly emotional shit when I'm feeling it and there won't be a time when I sober up to try to edit it into something reasonable so I'll just post it as-is. (Also not drinking is just fucking with my emotional state in general and I appreciate having Tumblr as an outlet where I can write weirdly emotional things to reflect that. Also I appreciate the existence of Grace Petrie.)

[romanoffsbish]

Maybe this isn’t the appropriate thought but

“but, if I kms, whoever will you bully, sir? 👉🏼🥹👈🏼”

That’s a pretty good comeback in my humble opinion.

Like this poor pathetic anon. What will you do? Go bully someone else? That’s just as pathetic as telling someone to die.

Honestly do you think you’re special anon? I genuinely don’t understand. Seemingly everyone tells everyone to die these days. I see it all the time. Sometimes the word loses meaning because of it.

You could tell me, “someone just told me to die because I said Batman is a bottom” and I would believe it!

Anyway, you don’t have to post this. I’m just sorry this hate anon is pathetically banging on your door & probably getting off on any scrap of attention.

Just in case you need reminding: you are an amazing person! You put up with a lot of shit! And you care so damn much! I truly hope good things happen for you! I wish your pillow is the temperature you want it. I’m sure you will achieve what you desire. Look how far you’ve come! If no one else has said it, I’m proud of you! You’ve reached 27 long fucking years & I hope you keeping going in life.

Lol, thank you! The comment genuinely did make me laugh, because my daily life hasn’t pushed me over the edge yet, so I promise their “creative” use of my page header isn’t going to lead to their desired outcome. They used to get to me back when I responded to the hate religiously, but I am already so low there is no dropping me any further, I only replied to this because I found it funny (in terms of me). I don’t care about a blank faced stranger on the internet’s perception of me* when I have more than enough tangible people irl telling me they love me as I am / find me to be a good person-friend-associate-etc. I am a giving person, it is why I continue to post content onto this app for those who enjoy it even though it’s also full of bored ingrates.

With that being said though, I do hope they find peace within themselves because at this moment they are nothing more than a pathetic bunch of losers. Anyone who hides behind anonymity to quite literally tell someone else to kill themselves (without a reason—newsflash, unless the person does something abhorrent / deplorable then there isn’t a reason) doesn’t deserve to even have a platform to talk on. They need an outlet for their hate because they know it is wrong, and could very well ruin their life if it ever got out that they’re online bullying people for just existing.

** I do want to say I appreciate your kind words at the end though, you too are blank faced but not cruel, and I think you are very sweet. Have a lovely day, ❤️

[mmmairon]

milkmaid diluc anon here (this is not the legacy I wanted nor expected but OH WELL!) if u want me to fistfight that anon LEMME AT EM

I don't get why people feel the need to be so entitled on the internet tbh :// like it's THEIR individual experience on the internet so they're supposed to curate it yourself, and if they don't like something then it's literally so easy to block or mute and scroll away. you keep doing you, ms. kaela! we got your back (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

also ALSO work was tiring but rewarding! I hope you and your cows are also doing well ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

thank you legendary milkmaid diluc anon <3

it just strikes me as so odd that they must have went out of their way to come to tumblr FROM twitter because you can’t see my followers here. this is not my main blog. so that anon had to come to tumblr, the only major social app that has anonymous messages, to tell me this. weird. should have just said it to my face without hiding behind anon lol

[snakedogge]

huh total night-posting on the topic of "socially acceptable" mental illnesses and those tiktoks with kids being like "I came here for a mental breakdown now I think it wasn't that serious"

So I'll ramble under the cut about personal stuff - what is this Tumblr but an informal journal for myself anyways

I have had something Deeply Wrong with me for such a long time and after a complete shattering of my mind was I able to get it diagnosed and could start managing it, processing and healing

When I told people in my closest social circle at the time i quickly realized it was A Fucking Mistake. hey, here's my very serious diagnosis of being schizophrenic, I'm telling you all because I trust you and I need support

Suddenly people in my DMs "I think I hear voices too what are yours like? Mines named so and so" and I have to stress this that it wasn't somebody also with this issue coming to me for insight. Multiple people suddenly started identifying with me and leaning *into* it.

My ex who I was with at the time started saying "I think there's something wrong with me too I'm also paranoid" and then used that as a reason he couldn't work. He actually took my explanations for what I was going through and used my experience to get approved for disability through his work. I would wander the streets at night and hide under random cars because I could feel myself being followed. Like my ex is a whole story on his own but I was so genuinely unwell and he literally just used that to do even LESS for me than ever.

My friends started trying to probe about my voices and if they have identities and what was going on in my head and then it didn't take long until they had DID and were kinning characters. (which is not a diss on people with DID or who kin characters. in this specific situation, however, it was deeply uncomfortable.) Meanwhile I couldn't sleep at night because of the faces and because I could swear there were cameras in the walls and before I realized it I couldn't even tell them these things because they'd already packaged up my problem as being cute and quirky. what was my horrifying daily existence became this weird...quirky topic.

It's a really isolating experience. And all that to say I wouldn't undermine that those ex-friends truly did need therapy or help but when I told them my diagnosis they just took it a step further and saw it as a label for some identity and it truly felt like they made it about themselves.

Like my life was already spiraling out of control and now whenever someone asks me "so what are the voices like?" I just immediately cringe regardless of intent. I completely stopped being open about it because of shit like this. I wish I wasn't unnerving to be around and off putting. Yeah some of my stranger moments are funny in retrospect (thanks, Rick and Morty inspired delusional outbursts at 2am) but I still wish they never happened and I never did them.

And I don't mind leaning into being a weirdo. But leaning into my mental illness is totally separate territory. And it was a strange experience to feel, over time, like somebody was just trying to co-opt my identity, multiple times.

I know that of course some of that could be elevated by the paranoia but that's why I've sat and run through everything start to finish multiple times.

anyway all that to say that yeah, I believe people genuinely think mental illness is just a series of quirks. it's not just kids either but full grown adults. maybe they don't consciously think "it's just quirky" but the versions of mental illness they are comfortable with in their head only go that far. idk I am very sleepy

also glad my ass is back on tumblr. it's as anonymous a social media as I can get anymore, and I love feeling like I'm talking into a fuckin void of nothing, but still leaving a speck of me behind somewhere on the internet. honestly at the end of the day I just want to talk about my experience with my mental illness, but without... all of that. and without making others uncomfortable. like I feel like I have a few people I could absolutely DM them about stuff but I also feel it would put them in a tough spot. so God bless Tumblr dot com

[sincericida]

someone on Tumblr started a rumor Henry raped someone in China. He didn’t. The “evidence” they had was literally made up. That’s what the anon is alluding to. They started the rumor because he publicly dated a woman named Tara that was 11 years younger than him or something, and they decided that means he’s a terrible person and shouldn’t be Superman because they hated his Superman portrayal. I wish I was joking, but that’s the ugly world of the internet. Then, they hide behind the word allegedly because they think it allows them to get a free pass to say whatever they want. It doesn’t. You are literally garbage to lie on someone about something that vile and continue to chip away at someone’s character when you know you’re lying l. Tara was an adult. She was not a child, whether you agree with him dating her or not! Bearing in mind, that’s literally the only woman he has ever dated that is that much younger than he was and afterwards he came forward to discuss how he didn’t understand what people were talking about considering his first girlfriend at 19 was 42. But regardless, Tara was 19 and he was in his thirties and the internet wants to infantilize grown women because of their own hang ups and villainize men because “feminism.” It’s left a stain on his reputation on the internet and it’s utterly ridiculous and pathetic to have done so when it’s literally not even true. As in, there was no woman in China, there are no photos, no one has ever come forward, there is no trail of evidence, there is nothing. They picked China for their lie because of racism thinking it made it more believable it would happen there and they did it to hurt him because they’re terrible. The people who keep perpetuating the rumors like that other anon just don’t like him and want to make others not like him too. That’s the actual truth. So. There you go. Saved you a lot of research time to find out there’s nothing there. The internet is filled with liars with nothing to do.

Anon, I was dizzy with this information. And honestly, many people are still absolutely sure that the internet is a land without law.

It would be great if everyone asked the following question before posting something: that I’ll write about person X, I would tell her, face to face? Because it’s very easy to feel brave and bold by being anonymous behind a screen.

About Henry, I need to form an opinion for myself.

Thanks anon, in any case.

[chemist-ana]

Plz stop with the fake Instagram posts. They r borin. I feel sorry 4 ur face claims how would u like it if some1 stole ur photos and pretended they were there own? Stalker!

Aw. Bully anon!

I have a few things to say to you. *stretches fingers*

1. Your anonymous message did not have the affect on me that you intended. I am not embarrassed or hurt or offended. I’m actually mad. Because trolls like you are the reason people are afraid to be unapologetically themselves. You picked on someone that doesn’t give a flying fuck what you think. Grow a spine and come at me without your internet veil.

2. I wanted to teach you how to do something: go to my profile, then on the top right hand corner of your screen there is a little person icon. If you click that you can UNFOLLOW me. Super easy! Then you don’t have to see any of my pesky boring IG Edits that I spend my valuable time making. AND if you are someone that reads my FFs and you don’t want to miss out- maybe I don’t want you around anyways. 🤷🏽‍♀️

3. I think it’s cowardly that you hide behind your anonymity on tumblr just to be a troll and say hurtful things. Just had to say this one again. Because: hello spineless creature.

4. To address my face claims feelings. Well, yes, I will admit I have way to many of these peoples photos on my Pinterest (not afraid to admit it)- they are models and actors. Their pictures are literally used for book covers, jewelry ads, lingerie ads (Sara Sampaio is a VS Angel) and countless other ads. Literally I just saw Joseph Cannata’s face on the cover of a new book. Sooo I honestly don’t think they mind having their faces plastered all over the internet. It’s what they get paid to do.

I am looking forward to your response.

And no, I won’t stop posting my IG edits.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 3]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, anal play, panty stuffing, toys that have fake cum, a bit of drunk ‘n dom!seungcheol, masturbation, daddy!kink 😳😏 yall! and we are back! I’m sorry we had to take a pause from last week but hopefully we won’t have anymore issues! 😭😭  this chapter is about 6.5k so strap in for the ride yall! and as always, thank you all soooo much for the support and love on my fics T_T it means so much to me! 💕 I hope yall have a good weekend bbys!! 🍒 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - ?

dom.cheol has donated $250

angelhan: :( i still cant believe i missed ur morning show…

chwenon: me too, i wouldn’t have stayed up til 6am had i known lol

sleepy_wonu: tbf, i couldve gotten kicked out of lab if i got caught watching… worth it tho

dom.cheol: i was at work but anything for u, baby.

You can’t help but pout at the camera reading the comments; knowing that some of your viewers were working or in class when you had done your surprise show. “Aww, m’sorry… I know it was so out of place for me but… You guys probably get it too, right?” You pause, sliding off of the pillow you were sitting on top of. You’d done a short show tonight; doing a strip tease for the camera before mounting a pillow and grinding against it until you came; fingertips gripping onto the silk as breathy moans spilled from your lips.  

“Y’know? When you wake up and you’re just so needy.”

hoshi_tiger_xx: all the time, baby!

gentleman_josh95: literally me this morning ;(

“Right? See you guys get me!” You giggle. The sound of donations and comments sound off in the background as you zone out for a second.

It had already been a couple days since then and this was your first show back. You and Seungcheol had texted sporadically; a little bit of awkwardness on both ends if you were completely honest. He seemed genuinely shy which was not what you expected at first but you also knew it must’ve been weird for him to suddenly have unrestricted access to you. Seungcheol seemed to be unsure of what he was able to ask you or talk to you about, even though you had assured him that you wanted to get to know him just like regular friends.

In your case, Seungcheol was undeniably hot and seemed to really like you which sent the butterflies in your stomach soaring each and every time your phone pinged.

kitty_junjun: hey can i ask a weird question

You tilt your head, eyes blinking cutely at the camera. “Of course!”

kitty_junjun: do u think you’ll ever have a show with someone else? Like a guest or sth? I know we’ve asked before but i’m just curious since your anniversary is comin up again...

Biting your lip, you watch as the others chime in, asking the same question. In truth, you had considered it maybe once or twice. But that came with risks. Not only would you have to find someone who was okay with being on camera with you, but you also ran the risk of losing viewers if they weren’t happy with who it was or how it turned out.

Seungcheol bites his lip reading the comments; he’d thought about it too.

He thought about if he’d be jealous, which he convinced himself he wouldn’t be. He would.

And whether or not he would pay to be the person to join you on cam and fuck you in front of all your viewers.

He definitely would.

“Mmm… I mean, I definitely thought about it before? But wouldn’t it be weird to see someone else on my shows? And, like, an actual… guy?” You watch the comments fly past, donations getting lost in the flurry of comments saying that you should do it.

universe_WZ: and miss the chance of seeing u getting fucked and put in ur place like a good girl?

universe_WZ: i will pay top dollar

alphagyu97: same

artist8hao: also same

dom.cheol: you already know how much we’d all love to see your cute lil cunt getting filled up with a real cock, sweetheart.

You bite your lip in thought, glancing at the camera with a coy expression. “Hmm, okay! I’ll keep thinking about it… I really want to but it’s gonna take some time to find the right person and make sure they’re okay with being on cam with me too~”

j__min: u should ask me, i cam sometimes too… we should collab ;)

Trying to hide the awkwardness, you laugh it off, tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Oh? A camboy that watches me? That’s interesting~”

There were usually only 13 of your viewers who you considered to be your ‘regulars’ and you knew them all by their usernames. Of course, there were others who seemed to comment here and there and lots of anonymous donations and comments as well. But the newcomer seemed to be very interested in you and you weren’t sure how to take it just yet.

“Hmm~ Okay! I think I’m gonna end the show here! It’s getting kinda late now, huh? I ended up staying and chatting too long again~”

dom.cheol has donated $300

universe_WZ has donated $100

dom.cheol: it’s okay baby we like talking to u :)

sleepy_wonu: agreed

You stick your tongue out, winking at the camera before you say your goodbyes and last few thank you’s.

“I’ll see you guys next time~ Sleep well and dream of me!”

Seungcheol takes a deep breath, rolling his computer chair away from his desk as soon as you go offline. You’d been as cute as you normally were, but this time he felt like your lust filled eyes pierced the screen a little harder than usual.

He reaches for his phone, opening your text window before typing a quick response. ‘Great show tonight, baby. ;)’ Pausing, he wonders if it’s a little too weird to text right after you’d finished a show; but instead hits send. The read receipt shows up immediately after which alerts Seungcheol you already had your text window up when he messaged you.

babygirl 🍒 : i was just about to message u!! hehe, how are u?

Seungcheol bites his lip. Would it be too much to call? He ponders.

‘Hey, is it okay to call? If ur busy, it’s okay. Just figured it’d be quicker than typing.’ He hits send before he can regret it, watching as the read receipt shows up under his message again.

In a few seconds, it’s his phone that rings, your display name at the top as he accepts your call.

“Cheollie!” Seungcheol’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest at your nickname for him, hand clutching the phone tightly as he tries to calm himself down. “Hey, sweetheart. Sorry, you must be tired? I just thought this would’ve been quicker.” He chuckles, standing from his computer chair as he makes his way towards his bed.

“Oh, not at all! I’m just tidying up so I have you on speaker right now~ If that’s okay?”

“Mm, of course, baby.”

Seungcheol takes the time to lay in his bed, a deep sigh escaping him as he relaxes into the sheets. “Everything okay, ‘Cheol?” Your voice is soft and gentle; music to his ears as he stares at the ceiling.

“Yeah! Just… the comments have been weird, huh?” He ends it with an awkward laugh, hoping you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Oh, are you talking about people asking me to invite someone or the new guy in the comments?” Seungcheol doesn’t know which he wants to talk about first. “I guess both?” He inquires, hoping that it’s not too prying.

You make a humming noise on the other end, deciding which one to address first. “Mm, I mean… I would love to have someone else on the show with me but I don’t know… Don’t you think it’d be weird? I feel like I’ve been doing my show for so long by myself but maybe I should start trying other stuff…” You trail off, leaving it open-ended for Seungcheol’s opinion.

“It’s ultimately up to you, sweetheart. But---But if you do, just promise me you’ll make sure everything with this person checks out, okay? I mean--I just want you to be safe, don’t let it just be some weirdo off the internet.” Seungcheol blushes, words leaving his lips in a hurried mess. Sometimes he hated how overprotective he was of you. “And--and make sure they take a STD test and stuff, y’know?” Your giggles pour out of the phone receiver as Seungcheol hides his face in one of his pillows.

“Is this in reference to the ‘j__min’ person offering their services?” Yes.

“No…” Seungcheol mutters, somehow already knowing that you didn’t believe it.

“‘Cheol~ don’t worry. I’m not gonna get into cahoots with someone I don’t know. And honestly, it kinda weirds me out how he came out of nowhere… Makes me wonder if he was some anonymous viewer or donator this entire time and then decided to have a name.” There’s a pause on your end; Seungcheol hearing the washing machine going off.

“And anyway, if I were to do a cam show with someone else, I think I’d want to know them really well, don’cha think? Like a friend, maybe?”

Seungcheol lets you go to sleep after 15 more minutes of chatting; making sure you down a glass of water and get some food delivered before he lets you go for the night.

He places his phone down onto the nightstand, tugging his shirt off as he stands. But his phone pings not a second later, confusion crossing his features as he picks it up.

‘Hey hyung, don’t forget we’re going to that new diner across town tomorrow after work!!! I’m gettin me some disco fries baby!!!! - ggukie’

Seungcheol ends work 30 minutes later than he should the next day and Jeongguk watches from the concession stand as Seungcheol trudges over, fingertips running through his silvery-blue hair as he sighs.

“Some kid fuckin’ puked in the restroom and nobody wanted to clean it up so guess who did.” He complains, leaning his head onto the cool countertop as Jeongguk pats his head comfortingly. “Not my job but you should’ve called someone else. Where was Yoongi-hyung?”

“Gone, as per usual. We both know he clocks out 30 minutes early.”

The two laugh half-heartedly, making sure they have their things before they leave for the night. The night shift crew had already checked in just a few minutes prior; Taehyung and Hoseok waving them off as they leave.

They hop into Seungcheol’s car; Jeongguk already fiddling with the radio controls as Seungcheol puts in the address for the new diner that had opened up. “I hope this place is good. It seems to get a lot of good reviews for a place that just opened up, like, two weeks ago.” Jeongguk nods, settling into his seat as Seungcheol pulls out of the parking lot.

“We live in a city that’s straight out of an episode of Riverdale. I mean, we work at a roller rink? And there’s diners all over? But we’re in the present day with present day technology? Soon we’ll be Archie and Jughead. Except I want to be Jughead since I have the tattoos so you can be Archie. Or we can both be, like, from the Serpents but I still want to be Jughead.”

Seungcheol raises a brow at Jeongguk’s references.

“I don’t know that show so all of that just went over my head.”

It takes approximately 30 minutes to get across town; the huge neon lights from the diner welcoming them into the parking lot as Seungcheol parks the car somewhere near the entrance.

“God, was it just me or did that take a long time? I’m fuckin’ starving.” Seungcheol mutters; hopping out of the driver’s seat. “I think you’re just hungry, hyung.” Jeongguk offers, jogging up to the other male as they make their way to the doors.

Thankfully, the place seemed relatively empty for a Thursday night, a lone male standing at the front of the diner in a pastel coloured uniform.

“Hey! Welcome to Dynamite, my name’s Jun! Table for two?” Seungcheol nods slowly, eyes narrowing at the male who, for whatever reason, seemed familiar.

Jun picks up two menus, guiding them to a booth in the far corner of the diner. “We’re just a little understaffed tonight so I’ll also be your server tonight! Can I get you guys some water to start?” The two nod as they sit in the multi-coloured booth. “Hey, can I ask you something?” Jun blinks, nodding slowly as Seungcheol peers up at him from where he’s seated.

“I feel like I’ve met you? It’s weird. I’m pretty sure we’ve never met though…?” Seungcheol trails off, confused eyes meeting Jun’s. Jun wracks his brain, unsure, but feeling the same way. “I dunno, I feel the same but I’m pretty sure we never met. Maybe a past life thing?”

Jeongguk laughs, eyes too focused on the menu in front of him. “Oh, that’d be weird as fuck.”

“Anyway, I’ll come back with your water!” Jun walks away, leaving Seungcheol and Jeongguk to go through the menu.

“Hey, Seungcheol-hyung?”

“Mm?”

“I know you said you’re usually busy on the weekends but I’m doing a PUBG stream on Saturday and was wondering if you wanted to hang? I asked Yoongi-hyung too and he’s coming over to drink and hang out.” Seungcheol’s lips press into a firm line, eyes burning holes into the menu in front of him.

Jeongguk was a video game streamer sometimes and his streaming schedule lined up with yours which is why Seungcheol almost never had a chance to watch or be a part of Jeongguk’s. “Um, what time is it at?”

“I’m thinking of streaming from like 6PM to midnight or somethin’. But you don’t have to be there the entire time! Just thought it’d be cool to hang out on the weekends for once.”

Seungcheol nods slowly, glancing up at Jeongguk who’s already staring back at him. “I can probably show up for a bit? I need to leave by 10 though, I, uh, sleep early sometimes.” He knows Jeongguk doesn’t buy it, but a smile paints itself onto the younger male’s face in an instant.

“Cool! Wow, didn’t think you’d say yes actually.”

The older male nods, a tight smile on his lips. Your cam schedule was almost always on time; Fridays, Saturdays, every other Monday, and every other Wednesday at 11PM. Sometimes you’d have surprise shows, like before, but you often kept to your schedule unless something important came up. “I know, I get so busy on the weekends, y’know?”

Jun comes back with their waters, setting them down on the table before fishing out a pad and paper to take their orders. “What are you doing on the weekends anyway? I feel like I’ve never asked directly but you never return my calls on Fridays and Saturdays.” Seungcheol freezes mid-order, hands gripping the laminated menu. “Um, and a cherry coke, please, thank you. And I told you ‘Guk, I… I just like to unwind on the weekends, I like to enjoy my quiet time so--so sometimes I just turn my phone off, y’know?.”

Jeongguk puts his order in with Jun who runs their order back before he walks off again. “Is working at the roller rink that bad? I know it can get wild sometimes but… are you thinking about quitting?”

In truth, Seungcheol had thought about it before when he was first starting out at the roller rink. But he also knew it paid too well for him to leave just yet. “Nah, just… it gets loud, y’know? I end up doing jobs around the place that I’m not qualified to do. And with Namjoon-hyung gone still, we’re shorthanded. I thought about picking up another job for some extra cash, but with what time?” Seungcheol grabs his glass of water, lips puckered around the plastic straw as he takes a sip.

“You should cam!”

Water sprays all over the table as Seungcheol sputters, choking on the liquid. “The---what!?” Jun runs over with a stack of pink tissues, helping to wipe up the water as Jeongguk stares from across the table with a wide grin. He waits until Jun leaves again; eyes fixated on Seungcheol and the crimson blush that coats his cheeks and ears. “It’d be easy money for you. You’re not exactly ugly, and you can cover your face!”

“Why exactly are you suggesting that!? Why’d you go straight for that!?” Seungcheol screams under his breath.

“Let’s be real, it’s crossed my mind so it’s probably crossed yours too. You can always just game too, but if you need cash quick y’know… And hey, I have some extra equipment so…” Jeongguk trails off, wiggling his eyebrows at Seungcheol suggestively.

Seungcheol had actually thought about that too. Maybe once or twice.

But after he’d spoken to you and found out just how difficult it really was to keep your viewers engaged and how difficult it was trying to find new ideas to bring to your cam show, he knew it wasn’t as easy as most people thought it’d be. You always put in extra effort in your cam shows and it was a whole production with effort and ideas. Sometimes it took you days to even come up with a theme for a show and sometimes it didn’t do as well as you’d hoped.

“Um, if I ever do, I’ll let you know ‘Guk.”

Saturday comes sooner than Seungcheol knows and he’s antsy. He could barely even enjoy your cam show from the night prior knowing that he had to haul ass back home after Jeongguk’s stream. He plots out the drive home; times it just perfectly so he still has some spare time to relax before your show starts.

For a second, he wonders if it was the right decision or if he should’ve just stayed home like he normally did. But he quickly shakes the thoughts out of his head; glad to get out of his apartment and spend time with his friends on the weekends for once.

He makes it to Jeongguk’s place on time, a box of beer tucked under his arm when he knocks on the door. Shockingly, it’s Yoongi on the other end who greets him; a lopsided smile on his face as he ushers Seungcheol inside. “‘Guk was setting up so…”

“I brought more beer! He said you were spending the night on his sofa so drink all you want, hyung.” Yoongi nods, plopping back down onto the sofa as Seungcheol makes his way towards Jeongguk’s PC room.

The entire room is lined with LEDs, posters of anime and various video games lining all the spaces between the soundproofing pads that Jeongguk haphazardly attached to the wall.

“Yooo, how’s the setup coming?”

“I’m almost ready!”

It takes 20 more minutes of Jeongguk fiddling before he sits in his expensive gaming chair; Seungcheol close behind as he watches the younger male pull up the loading screen. “You’re not drinking, hyung?”

Seungcheol shakes his head, legs crossed as he leans back in the spare desk chair. “Nah, I drove here. Gotta be responsible, kid.” Jeongguk shakes his head, placing his headset and mic on before starting his stream.

“Hey guys! Welcome back to Golden Closet Gaming! I’m doing a PUBG stream tonight and one of my closest friends is here so if you hear him on the mic, that’s definitely not a ghost this time!” A concerned look crosses Seungcheol’s features but he laughs lightly. “Hey guys, I’m Seung---I’m, uh… I’m---SCOUPS!” He blurts out in a hurry; using his gaming username instead.

“And I’m your main player, JK!”

Watching Jeongguk game so seriously is interesting for Seungcheol. They take a break an hour and a half into Jeongguk’s streaming session to get food and drinks; immediately going back to the PC room right after.

But it makes Seungcheol wonder what it was like on your end to always be alone filming in your bedroom to thousands of people in such an intimate setting. For a second, it makes him sad, wondering if you ever felt lonely after your shows were over. Or if you were so tired and could barely take care of yourself.

I would’ve gladly been the one to take care of you after your shows, he thinks.

“Fuck you too, asshole! Get the fuck out!”

Jeongguk’s screaming brings him out of his sad thoughts; a brow raised as he peers at the screen. How the younger male had the energy to game for so long was beyond him sometimes.

“Uhhh anyway comments are asking what I should stream next week? I dunno, give me some ideas? Not the SIMS again though...” Jeongguk mutters. “Oh, j__min said I should play The Last of Us?”

The name has Seungcheol perking up in an instant, leaning over Jeongguk’s shoulder as his eyes dance over the comments.

j__min: bro u were supposed to stream that like 4 streams ago, wtf 

seokGENIE: its a good game tho, id be interested in seeing how badly u do

j__min: actually yea me too lmao

Seungcheol’s eyes narrow slightly. Surely it couldn’t be? He thinks. The typing style wasn’t the same at all but the username was, which sent Seungcheol’s mind into a frenzy at the possibility.

But unfortunately for Seungcheol, Jeongguk launches into another match which means he had to wait another time to ask about it. He notes it mentally, making sure to get answers as soon as he can.

10PM comes sooner than Seungcheol expects and he lets Jeongguk know when it’s 9:50PM and while they’re in the middle of a break that he needs to go.

“Damn, where did time go? But okay, hyung! Sorry we didn’t really talk and I just gamed the entire time but maybe next time we can actually do something else? Go out for drinks maybe?” He shoots the older male his best puppy eyes until Seungcheol sighs and gives in, nodding as he fishes for his car keys.

“I’ll see you at work, okay?”

Seungcheol waves at Yoongi still glued to the sofa; a tiny wave of his own as he wishes Seungcheol a safe drive home.

He makes it home at exactly 10:32PM, toeing his shoes off before shucking off his jacket and tossing it onto the back of the sofa. He shuffles to the kitchen and grabs a few beers out of the fridge; already downing two entire bottles before he even makes it to his PC.

The buzz feels good when he sits down, taking a swig of his third bottle as he boots up his computer. In the meantime, he checks his phone, scrolling through apps and deleting notifications.

A text pops up at the top of his phone’s screen.

babygirl 🍒 : see u soon :)

Seungcheol smirks; ego inflated knowing that he was the only one getting that text message.

He checks the clock, 10:56PM, and loads up your profile, simultaneously finishing off his third can of beer since he’d gotten home.

For whatever reason, you’re nervous when you finally sit down in front of your camera setup tonight. You adjust your baby pink lace bra that Seungcheol had gotten you; a cherry blush on your cheeks as the giddiness pours over you.

Checking the clock, you notice it’s already 10:59PM, finger hovering over the ‘rec’ button before pressing it.

It takes a second before the comments already start flooding in; the sound of donations and comments flying across the screen in an instant.

“Whoa~ You guys are so eager tonight, huh? Already so many donations! Thank you!” You shift slightly onto your side, biting your lip. “We’re already so close to the minimum donations for me to start… what’s up with you guys?”

tangerine_kwan: I’m so glad to see u, yesterday was not enough

therealchan99: fuckin talk abt it dude, i almost quit my job im stressed i need to see u princess

dom.cheol has donated $500

dom.cheol: fuck, baby i need to see your pretty lil pussy already i’m so fuckin hard

Your eyes go wide with Seungcheol’s massive donation. He usually waited until you were mid-show or towards the end to donate such huge amounts of money and yesterday he seemed relatively quiet during your show. It threw you off slightly, but you just assumed he might’ve just been going through some things at the time. “Seems like you guys had a rough week, huh?”

xcaliburDK: gOD u dont even know, ur literally my stress relief, beautiful

kitty_junjun: yea i just started working at a new place and its… weird, just glad to be off today

Pouting at the camera, you lean in a little closer. “Hmm, guess I should start then, shouldn’t I~? Since you all seem like you need a ‘lil escape~”

gentleman_josh95 has donated $45

sleepy_wonu has donated $70

sleepy_wonu: please put us out of our misery, baby

You can’t help but giggle, sliding the bra straps down your shoulders before you unhook the material and toss it to the other side of the bed. “This cute setup didn’t last very long this time! Should I upload some pics later to my private room?”

alphagyu97: plz

chwenon: yes yes yes lewds plz

“Okay~” You pause, fingertips hooked onto the sides of your panties. “I actually… wanted to try a new toy…” You murmur, shyness taking over as you slowly slide your already wet panties down your thighs. Sitting back down, you slide them off completely before you place them next to you, glancing at the comments as you cross your ankles.

artist8hao: wait was that…

universe_WZ: i think so

hoshi_tiger_xx: plz plz plz let us seeeeee

dom.cheol has donated $200

dom.cheol: spread your legs, sweetheart. Let daddy see.

You clench your teeth at the arousal that pools in your lower abdomen; shaky legs parting towards the camera. Squirming slightly, the plug that you had eased into your ass shifts, making you mewl at the feeling. You’d tried using your fingers in the past, but by far, the toy was the biggest you’d used yet.

“I--I… I bought this toy m-myself ‘cause I wanted to… wa--wanted to… start learning how to t-take cock in my ass too…”

The way you sit on the bed has the toy fully seated inside of you, toes curling against the bed sheets as your hazy eyes flit to the camera. “I dunno how long I’m gonna last, it feels so good~” You moan, grinding against the sheets underneath you.

angelhan has donated $150

angelhan: i’m begging please, panty stuffing

You bite your lip, eyes dancing over to the lace material sitting next to you. “Hmm~ I don’t think I’ve ever done that on my show before… Should I try it?” You ask cutely, flashing the camera a cheeky smile. The donations pour in like rain; the pinging making your stream lag for a second as it tries to keep up.

dom.cheol has donated $400

tangerine_kwan has donated $100

dom.cheol: fuck, sweetheart lets see you get those panties fucking soaked

universe_WZ has donated $200

“Guess we have our answer?” You laugh airily, reading a few of the comments that were basically begging you to.

Spreading your legs as wide as you can, you maneuver yourself against your pillows; grabbing the lacy material. You quickly adjust the camera with a remote, zooming in until it’s focused on your soaking folds. “Ngh, I’m already so fuckin’ wet… this plug is really making me feel so full~”

dom.cheol: i bet your cute lil ass could barely take my fuckin cock huh

“Mmh, is daddy gonna fuck my ass and make me cum nice and hard?”

yes, yes yes, god yes!

Seungcheol could die right now and be happy.

He wraps a hand around his cock, hips shallowly thrusting up into his closed fist as he watches you run your own fingertips through your wet folds before you sink two of them into your tight pussy. His eyes flutter shut, the image of himself fucking your tight ass as you whine and beg for his cum dancing behind his eyelids.

The alcohol in his body has him on edge even quicker; the grip he has on his cock loosening so he doesn’t cum as quickly.

“A-ah… g--guess it’s time to try this…” You whisper, reaching for the lacy panties. You drag the material up your thigh teasingly, swinging it around your wet fingertips before you place it against your entrance.

You take a deep breath, slowly pushing the panties into your pussy.

tangerine_kwan: oh my god oh my god

alphagyu97: fuck thsts so hot fuck

angelhan: spread your legs more, please god

Your lust filled eyes glance towards the comments, shakily spreading your legs as far as they can go. “O-oh god it--it feels suh--so good…” You mewl, pressing the material further and further into your pussy.

“It’s d-different but… but it’s--it’s--mmh!” 

You’re cumming before you know it, toes curling against the sheets as you cum around the toy in your ass and your fingers and panties deep inside your pussy.

Your legs threaten to clamp shut in an instant, which you fight off; the sound of donations and coins clinking flooding your eardrums. “I--fuh--fuck, I--I didn’t know I was gonna c-cum from that!” You let out a breathy laugh, moaning as you continue to push the panties inside of you until the fabric is completely gone from the camera’s view.

chwenon: now will u sell those

hoshi_tiger_xx: please once again i am begging I AM BEGGING

“Aww~ I wish I could… but you guys know my rules~” You pout; body warm and fuzzy after your first, unexpected orgasm. “God, I didn’t… I really didn’t know that’d make me cum so easily~”

dom.cheol: fuck sweetheart, your cute lil cunt cums so fuckin easily

“I know~ I have such a greedy pussy… Always want something filling me up…” You wink at the camera, reaching for a toy that was out of view. “I have another toy~ hehe, tonight is just full of new things, huh?”

You show the toy off to the camera, shifting so that you're on your knees instead. “It looks like a regular dildo right? But it’s full of cum! Not real cum anyway, but cum lube… It’s not the same but it’ll have to do for now~”

therealchan99: oh fuck oh god

sleepy_wonu: aww is the princess gonna let it cum in her cute ass?

artist8hao has donated $75

kitty_junjun has donated $50

dom.cheol: lets see that ass fuckin take all that cock baby

dom.cheol: let it cum in ur pretty lil hole

dom.cheol: fuck

You zoom your camera back out, turning to your side enough so that you could still see your monitor but also still be in frame. “Yeah? Does daddy wanna see how a good girl takes cock in her ass?” Moaning, you reach behind you, fingers on the end of the plug as you slowly pull it out. The stretch makes your back arch slightly; legs trembling when the larger part of the toy finally breaches past the puckered muscle.

The sudden emptiness only makes you reach for the dildo faster, covering it with lube before you place it against your ass. “D’you think I can take it?”

tangerine_kwan: i kno u can baby

sleepy_wonu: yes eys yes

dom.cheol: daddy knows u can, sweetheart

You place the toy at your puckered hole, biting your lip and telling yourself to relax before you slowly start easing it into your ass. “O-oh fuck…” You had made sure the toy was on the smaller size since it was your first time but the stretch of it still had your body tensing up almost immediately.

It takes a long and torturous minute until the toy is fully seated in your ass; body buzzing at the sensation. “G-god it--fuck, it feels even better than the plug~” You whine, maneuvering until you were sitting down on the toy completely.

You let your body adjust to the new feeling for a moment before you’re bouncing on the dildo, loud cries and garbled moans spilling from your lips. The new feeling has you chasing your high insanely fast; tuning out the comments and noises as you focus on your own pleasure.

Your mind can’t help but imagine Seungcheol again; his hands roaming your skin and his deep voice growling filthy praises into your ear as he fucks you from behind. You clench around the toy and the panties still in your pussy, wrecked sobs on your lips at the thought.

Before Seungcheol, you always imagined nameless hands on your body or even resorted to thinking about other videos you’d seen to help get you off. Some days it was harder and some days you were cumming in under five minutes. But now that Seungcheol had a name and face to you, it was impossible for you to imagine anyone else fucking you.

“Shi---it, I--I wanna cum!”

dom.cheol: already? Fuckin greedy lil ass

dom.cheol: cum, sweetheart. Let daddy cum in ur tight ass too

universe_WZ has donated $100

alphagyu97 has donated $75

You alternate from bouncing on the dildo to swiveling your hips; reaching a free hand down to rub circles around your swollen clit. “Already? Can I cum?” You whisper, mind already a puddle of goo now that you were so close.

kitty_junjun: cum

xcaliburDK: cum

chwenon: cum

dom.cheol: you heard them, sweetheart. Cum. Now.

Seungcheol’s grip on his cock tightens after he sends the comment; growls spilling from his lips as he watches you bounce on the toy. His cock throbs in his hold, already feeling himself just as close to his orgasm as you were to yours.

“Fu--fuck I’m cumming! D---daddy!” You cry, slamming yourself down onto the toy as you cum hard. Seungcheol bites his lip to keep in his own screams; streaks of cum landing on his shirt and jeans as he works himself through his own orgasm.

He tries to keep his eyes focused on you in the midst of his orgasm, watching as you squeeze the base of the dildo until the cum inside starts to pour into your ass. “O--oh god!” You mewl, still thrusting the toy into your ass.

Seungcheol’s mouth goes dry when you reach a shaky hand between your legs, fingertips dipping into your pussy and pulling the soaked lace until half of it is in view of the camera. His grip on his cock tightens, moans on his lips when you then slowly start pulling the dildo out of your ass; the fake lube immediately spilling out of your ass and onto the bed sheets and sliding down onto the panties.

universe_WZ: oh my god oh ymg f

xcaliburDK: eyeeeeeee

kitty_junjun: i

You push the fake cum out, soft cries on your lips as the last bits of your orgasm roll through your body. The fake cum feels slightly cold which sends a shiver up your spine as it drips down your legs.

“Mmh… god that---that was intense…” You mumble, upper body slumping against the sheets.

You reach a hand between your legs again, making sure you’re in the camera’s view when you tug on the panties again; this time pulling them all the way out as you groan.

alphagyu97: if ur not selling those can it be a giveaway

alphagyu97: make it a raffle

You toss the soiled fabric to the side, mindful of the puddle of fake cum soaking into the sheets as you readjust your tired self in front of the camera. “You guys really want these, huh?” You laugh, responding to a few other stray comments asking for the soaked material. Your entire body is tingling from all the new sensations, mind going a mile a minute with the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Slumping forward, you thank your viewers again, yawning as you stretch out. “I think I need a bubble bath now~ ‘m so messy!”

hoshi_tiger_xx: we love a messy girl ;)

therealchan99: fuck yea we do

Letting a few more viewers leave donations, you start saying your goodbyes; wishing everyone a good weekend before you blow a kiss to the camera and sign off.

Seungcheol sends one last donation of $550, jaw clenched and cock still throbbing.

He reaches for his phone on instinct, opening your text window. Pausing, he grins. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system but he opens his camera app, flipping it so that it’s on him as he snaps picture after picture of his cum covered torso and his free hand still wrapped around his hard cock.

Smirking, he opens your text window again, thumb dancing across the keyboard with renewed energy.

‘fuck, princess. your fuckin show got me so hard. those panties were fuckin soaking from how much u liked getting ur ass fucked huh? I bet i could get u to cum just from me fuckin your cute lil ass... probably wouldnt even need to touch ur clit or fuck your cunt to get your tight walls cummin for me. but ur a greedy lil thing arent u? probably would still want a toy to keep that pussy nice n sated. fuck, im still hard even tho i already came once.’

He hits send before he thinks twice, quickly attaching a few of his own pictures before he locks his phone and tosses it onto his desk.

Seungcheol’s body is sensitive from his first orgasm still, but his hips thrust up into his closed palm again; head leaning up against the headrest as he lets out harsh breaths. His eyes flutter shut, eyelashes tickling his skin.

This time his imagination runs wild; hands tangled in your hair while he tugs on it, forcing your back straight against his chest as he fucks into you hard and fast. He imagines your sweet voice begging him to let you cum, walls tight around his cock when you fall apart on it.

“Fuck!” He cums hard, body rigid as his free hand digs into the armrest and the air is knocked out of his lungs.

Seungcheol vaguely hears his phone pinging in the background; mind hazy as the waves of his orgasm wash over his body.

When he starts to come down, he slumps against the chair, sleepiness already taking over with his two orgasms and the alcohol still in his system. He mentally makes a note to get rid of his soiled clothes another time, tiredly reaching for his phone.

He stares at it through his blurry vision, barely making out your name before he blinks the tiredness away enough to read your message.

babygirl 🍒: hehe~ does daddy want my panties then? i’ll gladly give them to u if u want them~ 😚

[whichtammy]

Sent from Ithaca Ⅰ

Summary:

After "the Blip" and getting back to his daily life, Sam Wilson gets attracted by an email shown in his mailbox repeatedly and starts continuous correspondence with the sender named Ithaca. During their correspondence, Sam fills the lost memory of his lost home and starts to rebuild new life in the so-called post-bilp era. With the more letters he sends to and receives from Ithaca, however, the more strange connections does Sam find showing up between his real life and the words written down by that Ithaca who loves to tell stories and poems in his letters. Sam can't help but feeling that maybe there was not only an anonymous pen pal who loves literal fantasy behind the name of Ithaca, but a sign with an intention to lead him to get across the boundary between stories and the real life.

—————————————————————

Hi，

I was in your support group for veterans four years ago, are you still work there now? I'm wondering if I could be a member of your group again, or could you please recommend some other groups like that for me?

PS. I'd like to ask that can we talk if it is possible? The group work under your guidance had helped me a lot in the past, I wishthere could be a chance for me to say thank you in person.

Please contact me.

Yours

Ithaca

Sam Wilson finds the mail in his mailbox much of puzzling, the sender'sidentity is ambiguity, as well as the intention. He did work in a support group for veterans for a while, not a short time in fact, it was a regular and steady job after his retirement from the army. However, everybody could know it if one ever had any interest in Sam Wilson, nearly everything of him is on the internet after his real identity was made public, and his work experiences is just a small part of this massive archive of Sam Wilson, open source, 7/24 online. So, even the sender said he (maybe a she, Sam thinks) had been in his support group, there is nothing provable that he or she had really been there, nor if he is really a veteran who is searching for information. It seems like that the only real and clear intention is to get contact with Sam, and for some reasons, the contacts on the other side chose to make himself vague, hiding behind the name of Ithaca, which is no doubt an alias, left nothing of contact details, no phone number, no address. Of this Ithaca, the only information Sam receives is the request of "please contact me"at the end of an email and a traceless virtual mail address.

Another information Sam has is that the sending time of the mail is three years after when it was first sent. He checked through the inbox, there are actually more than one single letter with the same content, that Ithaca keeps sending the same mail to him every three months all the time and today is the day of another third month, so his mailbox received the exactly same words again. He must be doubting, if notthe detail time of "I was in your support group for veterans___ago" keeps changing, that maybe the sender had set a repeating schedule sending and forget it all afterwards, only to leave him an alarmed-like mailbox to remind him that "it'stime"with a virtual Ding.

However, the sender never forgot his letter, nor did Sam ever receive the reminder. He didn'tget any reminds of his mailbox at all during the past three years, in fact, he was even not reminded of himself either for such a long time. He feels like the life of his is a movie with the audience left midway, when the one was back to watch, it is already the "three years later". He also thinks himself as the movie lost audience and the audience missed the movie at the same time, as the movie, he continues without being conscious of, as the moviegoer, he watches with a lack of awareness of what has happened. There is a gap in his memory, something interrupted there, he knows it is there, but he can'tknow what it is that he missed exactly——he just keeps playing and watching, for he has settle down in now, he would have no time to chase the missing part in the past at the same time.

Is the mail a plot supplement of the movie? Sam clicks the reply, forIthaca’s mail, not the other mails alike in his inbox. His mail address got public too after the publicity, people keeps sendingmails in, they are just having a try, it'ssort of a free inviting after all. Many senders write true and false stories about themselves with fictional names and identities, some of them even make up stories of Sam and them to make themselves look like a real person who had real connection with him. Now, Sam has learned to distinguish these big and small lies from his experience of being a celebrity, he doesn'treply any of them now, but he picks up some long mails of them to read with an interest at some time and gets amazed by the imagination and details all the time. He admits to himself more than one time that he would really believe those stories they write about Sam Wilson if he is not Sam Wilson himself. Sometimes he would wonder, did he really in fact play a role in others'life in such a strange and detailed way? Is he really someone to others? Can he indeed have such strange and detailed meaning to strangers'life?

So he replys.

Hi Ithaca,

I'm not working in that group now, if you are looking for something like that, I think that the official website of SRV(Supporting and Rebuilding with Veteran) may provide the information you need about similar activities and groups we had before.

It would be my pleasure if i had helped, I'm so grateful for your supports, too.

Best wishes

Sam Wilson

He reads his brief reply again with a mixed feeling of curiosity and suspiciousness. He wants to see the sender behind the mask, while he is afraid of the fact that what he reveals would only be another face of a hater, a stalker. The mailbox is fulled with mails of stalking, fever, curses and hatred, and they are only a small part of the massive archive of the cult of Sam Wilson. Maybe that is what it takes be to a celebrity, Sam thinks, being a celebrity means exposing yourself to everyone, there is a chance that anyone could come for you, holding a comprehensive information of you and somehow your life truns to be a waiting for the ambush from maybe a friend or foe. He used to believe that he would leave the habit of distinguish people as friend and foe behind when he left the army, he knew he needed time to adopt a new regular life, he would take time to tame his battle life into a tamed daily life, that's why he joint the support group for veterans, as a group member first, sooner a group leader. Sam had expectations of it, he was hoping to build a loose but continuous connection between his two lives and land himself in the soft daily life without enemy in the end.The smooth landing he hoped for would not erase his old friends who had gone with his old foes away in a cold way, he was trying to make it a soft goodbye. Sam truly believe it a realistically ideal plan, he was planing to share this realistic idealism to more people like him. He failed, he thinks later, his vision of life was much simpler that what it is. Life was not going to say a soft hello in return, Sam soon realized the group was in fact the beginning of a new war. He had planned to meet with different people and experience, even complex adventures, the exciting potential was as another a great reason why he choose to keep contact with veterans, but he didn't see the whole vision, he didn't know how strange the man he would meet, nor did he predict the adventures coming along with him. He had no idea about the honor he would fight for, for he was clueless about bad things coming along with it as well.

He recalls that he had regarded the veteran group as a farewell to sacrifice, no more sacrifice he would see, what's waiting for would only be stories of sacrifice to be heard, they would not be alive but are only memories, living in the past and reliving only in the room crowded with lively narrators. That was what Sam expected for, he was prepared for heavy stories and sharing the burden of those who could take their stories alone no more. He would be obligatory to help if the owner wanted to share her or his story. Tell the untold, remember the forgotten, make nameless sacrifice heard and rest in a rectified name, he said this to himself. Now he sees the imprudence of his prediction, the future has given him stories as wish, telling him that his life would be totally changed by a stranger, who carries so many stories that he himself is like a fictional being in the end, every story he had dreamed for would come true because of the stranger, in a wilder way though, just like a fictional fantasy.

For this reason Sam feels he has a empathy for people who write him long letters, how couldn't he show up in someone's "normal life" when the living legend Captain America could ran into his house and asked for help when he was a normal nobody. Sam is immersing in those thoughts and writes his polite reply with a intention of keeping distance from Ithaca. On the one side, the last thing he wants to do is to arouse the interest of a potential stalker, on the other, he would blame himself if he intended to ignore someone with a honest and stubborn heart, even though he knows that the line between a insisting fan and insisting hater is always dim. Sam would like to believe maybe the sender really have some stories to tell, the name of Ithaca implies it, too. The name is another reason made him write his reply, he is home now, spending his time getting familiar with the small town he used to know very well. It occurs to him that the sender, if is telling the truth and did attend his group activities, could possibly be the young man who said wanted to be a poet in a theme activity of "getting a job". Sam remembers his talk, he said he was reading Homer then and recited some verses from the epic. He can't remember the verses by words, but he has a clear picture of the scene, it was some poetic sentences about the desire of going home and the failed of it. The young man said that everyone in the room would share the same feeling when they heard Ithaca calling Odysseus. A long silence fell down to the room after his speech, the young man sensed it too, he said "sorry" as a conclusion. There was no "it's OK" responded, perhaps people in the room had no clue of whether should she or he accept that apology, they may didn't know should they take it as something offensive but forgivable, people were just sad. Sam was short of words for a while, he hadn't read the book then, but the poem did hurt him down in a direct way. He thought at that time that maybe that was the gift of being a poet, look at the reckless young man, he could lift and drown people's hearts only by a verse.

Sam opens the browser to search what exactly the verses are, unfortunately, his vague memory leads him to nothing precisely relevant, which makes him want a reply mail from Ithaca more eagerly, he wants him to contact him back, as long as he is the young man in his memory. Sam opens his mailbox, writes and sends another mail to Ithaca, he thinks himself kind of reckless as soon as he clicked the button of "send", what if he is not him? What if the man on the other side has a dark plan? Would he use his letter as an inspiration of gossips and rumors? Things like that happen all the time. Sam is so tired of get misunderstood because of his own words being twisted, he always gets hurt of those made-up stories, he is tired of making explanations of his stories which are not belong to him at all, he is tired of feeling hurt. He sends it anyway.

Hi Ithaca,

I can't remember if it goes like

"they talk about the days of going home"

Sam

To Be Continued…

[thotsforvillainrights]

This wasn't requested. This is literally just for @zuffer-weird-girl because she's always dealing with stupid shit so I decided to bring Chisaki into this for his opinion on the matter💁🏾‍♀️

He finally slipped all his paperwork for the day into the finished pile and then he clocked out of work. Once at the top layer of the base, he passed Pops and wished him a good night on his way to the bedroom. At first he hadn’t noticed the girl tucked away in the corner of the room, mindlessly typing at the laptop on the cluttered desk. However, when he was taking his jacket off and folding it, he looked over and saw her expression. It was one less of bordem and more along the lines of mental exhaustion. Kai furrowed his brows before removing his mask and leaving nothing but the usual medical mask. “Angel?” He softly called out to her and watched as her sunken eyes slowly turned to look at him. “Kai...hey.” She sighed with a small smile gracing her face. He stared at her with a worried expression before turning to look at the laptop screen in anger. Quickly without warning he moved to shut it and unplug it. “Kai, c’mon don’t. Really it’s no big deal. I’m okay, I promise.” He shook his head and knelled in front of her. “You are not okay. I can tell these idiots are pissing you off once again. I really don’t see why you won’t let me have Chrono track their IP addressees so I can take care of their disgusting saddened asses myself.” He grumbled in frustration. She reached out to touch the top of his soft hair with her hand. “Because we’ve been over this already. Murder is illegal, Kai.” She laughed lightly and he rolled his eyes. He stood up and dusted off his pant legs before reaching out to her with a gloved hand.  “Come lay with me for a moment.” She hesitated, looked at her closed laptop and sighed before complying. Once laying down, she tucked her face into his clothed chest and sighed once more. “There’s just so much work left to be done. I’ve got people looking out for my content but it seems like every time I log onto the website, the anons are waiting to crucify me again and again. I don’t even know these people!” She vented into his chest while he silently stroked her head. When she finally calmed down, he reached to gently lift her head by the chin to look at him. “Angel, if you don’t even know them, why then do you let them continue to affect your life like this?” She remained silent and he continued to speak. “These people don’t matter to me, and they shouldn't matter to you either. They don’t know you personally or what you go through on a daily basis. They don’t know your happiest or saddest moments. They’ve never even seen you in person most likely. And if they had, then I would’ve killed them by now.” She laughed at his threat. “Angel I suppose what I’m saying it that you shouldn’t even stop to consider the opinions of a person who hides behind an anonymous feature on the internet. That proves that they’re not only bored with their sad and pathetic lives, but they also have such an odd obsession with you that they thrive on any kind of interaction...even if it’s negative. Besides, if you have strangers hating on you then you must be doing something right.” He flicked her nose and she scrambled away to hide her face. He smiled and removed his mask before moving to kiss the top of her head. “Get some rest, go read. Play that damn game you like with the handsome men that I’m not jealous of...” Kai lied smoothly. “Go eat something, drink something. Draw those pictures of me that I honestly like seeing. When you log back into your account of course the scum will be there waiting on you, but perhaps someday they’ll realize that death is on the horizon for all of us and they’ve ruined the youth of their years by spending 90% of it sending hate to someone they don’t even know. Besides, they can’t stop you from writing.” He continued to peck the side of her face with reassuring kisses. No matter what, he was always going to be there to motivate her through thick and thin because that was his Angel. By God was he determined to keep it that way forever.

(So you see Zuff, Kai doesn’t care and neither should you. Anons try so hard to steal your light from you but they’ll fail every single time because you are unstoppable even on your worst days.)

[ajs-wife]

I cannot express how fucking angry I am to learn that people I adore have been subject to mass amounts of anonymous hate.

Multiple people I know, who I consider my friends, have been on the receiving end of pointless, hateful messages. People who are beautiful inside and out, who absolutely, unequivocally do not deserve any negativity have been dealing with multiple hateful anonymous messages for absolutely no reason.

My friends, who have been more incredibly supportive than I could ever imagine, absolutely do not deserve the hate they’ve been receiving, nor does anyone. The chains of hateful messages I have seen are thrown around with no apparent thought of how they may affect the recipient, no regard for emotions and repercussions that may occur.

I am sick and tired of people being sent shit like this, sick of seeing messages from people I love who are hurt and upset because of spineless assholes who have nothing better to do than bombard beautiful souls with negativity and malicious hatred.

What do the people who send these messages think they’re going to achieve? What joy do they get in senseless negativity and misery? What serotonin burst do they get from trying to drag people down to their low level?

What’s the point of sending hate to someone for literally NO reason? Do these anons not realise the potential consequences of their actions? Do they not realise how badly their stupid hate might affect someone?

If you have a fucking problem with someone, get off their blog or say it to their face without hiding behind anonymity. The unfollow button is RIGHT FUCKING THERE; instead of tearing someone down with negativity just unfollow them instead of being a coward and taking out your emotions on someone else.

You don’t agree with their opinions? Unfollow.

You don’t like their content? Unfollow.

You harbour any negative emotions towards someone for literally any reason? Unfollow.

Do not send people anonymous hate, there is NEVER a good reason to send hate.

People come online, to their blogs, to escape shit from the outside world; it’s meant to pose as a safe space where people can share their interests, their thoughts, their feelings with people who feel the same. People like these anons have no grasp on how badly they may affect someone’s mental health, their safe space is no longer safe and the consequences of that could be dire.

There is never a good reason, it is never funny or clever, it is never acceptable to send people you likely do not know any negative messages.

They may seem “harmless” to whoever is sending them but the recipient is not the same person.

Stop attacking people over the internet for no apparent reason.

If you don’t like someone, block them, unfollow them, do literally anything else that doesn’t involve dragging someone down to your pathetic level.

[freewithyourtempo]

Could you write a cherik fic where Erik is this really famous/hot actor who keeps his personal life very private and all of his fans speculate who his wife his and want to date him until he shows up to a red carpet with Charles (in a wheelchair) and shocks everyone and reveals they’ve been together since like childhood

I’m really sorry it took me so long to write this.I hope you’ll like it!

 "Are you ever going to tell us who you’re dating?“ 

The room holds his breath.Erik Lehnsherr smiles, slow and dangerous. Not in a pleasant way. 

Well, Emma rectifies, it is still a boiling hot smile - how could it not be, with those cheekbones and that jawline -; but it isn’t meant to be reassuring. She feels her face warming. 

Lehnsherr takes his time answering. 

He fetches the bottle of water hiding the plaque with his name - as if anyone could not know who Erik Lehnsherr is at a press conference for his latest blockbuster-, long fingers leaving prints on the cloudy glass, and refills his cup. 

He tilts the bottle, tendons bulge on his arm. Dozens of eyes follow the spilling water on its way down. 

Emma could bet the journalist is already regretting her question, and hides her smirk behind a clever swipe of her lipstick. 

Someone coughs in the heavily silent room. 

Everyone is staring at Lehnsherr’s working throat, up and down with his Adam’s apple, and Lehnsherr is grinning down at the poor journalist, who, at this point, can only squirm in her pastel tailleur.

Eventually, Lehnsherr puts his glass down and pops his lips. “You’re not my type,” he says.

The journalist looks flabbergasted. “I- What?” 

Emma shifts on her chair and uncrosses her legs. 

Lehnsherr blinks. “The only reasonable excuse for you to ask me anything about the identity of my partner is that you’re interested in what I like. Because, otherwise, your question would be highly inappropriate. So… I’m saving you time. You’re not my type. Next question?”  

The journalist sits back down with no further comment. 

Emma raises her hand to ask a question. 

***

According to the Internet, Erik Lehnsherr is so hot that staring at him without your sunglasses could send you directly to the Emergency Room with burnt corneas.

But boy, wouldn’t it be worth it.

Your internal eyelids would forever preserve the image of those sharp cheekbones, those sin-inducing lips, those bulb-exploding grey eyes.

But it isn’t just his face, it is his whole attitude.

Brooding, mysterious and confident, with a smile that could slice open paparazzi’s cameras and a taste for dark characters with disputable morals and indisputable appeal.   

Every woman wants to do him, and every man wants to–

No, scratch that.

Everyone with a sexual drive has dreamt at least once of his long fingers and rough jaw in the last year, no exception.

Hell, Erik Lehnsherr is so convolutedly sexy that Byron would have had wet dreams about him.

Once Emma saw a video of him smoking and that night she woke up, skin burning hot, with the sheets wrapped around her calves and a tuft of blonde hair stuck to her damp forehead.     

And as any self-respecting tormented artist, he is a recluse.

He doesn’t attend galas or parties if he can help it (he can help it pretty often), he has never been photographed with his hands up someone’s skirt in an alley behind a dark disco or been arrested for skinny-dipping in the Trevi Fountain. The last one is a pity.

He doesn’t even have one chatty, bribable relative in all of New York.

Emma would know, she has gone looking.

It is frustrating.

Fundamental questions about his person are still unanswered, and one of them above all torments Erik Lehnsherr’s fans like a rock in their shoes.

A rock the size of Mount Rushmore.  

Who is the lucky bastard who has chained him with a wedding band?

Emma is torn between her desire to bloodily maul them and to gift them a star on the walk of fame. 

The inscription would be something on the line of: “The unknown sucker that wakes up every morning with Erik Lehnsherr’s ass at arm’s length. Hope you plump him up like a pillow, sugar.” 

But the identity of the unknown spouse will in all likelihood stay a secret a little longer.

It is probably the blonde top model who has co-starred his last movie, anyway. Hollywood’s couples are never a big surprise. 

***

Logan has a work ethic, even if he is a paparazzo. 

Just because he makes money on people’s missteps, heartbreaks and scandals - the snottiest, the better-, it doesn’t mean he can’t be compassionate about it.

That’s why he has come to the conclusion, while squatted behind a smelly trash can in front of Lehnsherr’s trailer, that he will give the actor a heads up. 

He will still sell the photos of his imminent cheating to the highest bidder, obviously.

That kind of stuff is worth thousands of bucks, and he is not Gandhi. 

But he will magnanimously offer Lehnsherr time to have a heart to heart with his significant other, whoever she may be. Cry a bit, beg for forgiveness, buy diamonds. The usual stuff one does when they are very sorry and not doing that again. 

He could put an anonymous letter in the mailbox, maybe. 

Yes, Logan thinks, chewing on his battered cigar, that will do it. 

He is such a good guy. 

He lifts his camera and zooms on the very pretty girl waiting outside of Lehnsherr’s trailer. 

Logan sees her knocking twice, then tossing her dark hair on one shoulder and putting a hand on her cocked hip. Her tiny, tiny dress rides up her thigh some more and she doesn’t fix it.

It takes a few moments, then Lehnsherr opens the door in his sweatpants, hair ruffled already. 

The girl takes a step forward on her staggering heels, and Logan starts snapping photos of the two like his life depends on it.

He’s grinning like a maniac, the trashcan he’s leaning against squits periodically and his index finger hurts, but there’s no way on Earth he will let this opportunity get away. 

Now Lehnsherr will look around furtively, making sure there’s no one in the vicinity, will grab the girl by the arm and close the door behind their entwined figures.  

Except that he doesn’t. 

Logan can literally feel the bills being taken out of his pockets and he almost wails. 

His camera records the evolution of Lehnsherr’s surprised, frowning, distrusting and openly hostile face.    

He’s not aroused, he’s not intrigued, he’s not even remotely interested in freeing the entrance of his trailer.

He looks almost offended. 

Lehnsherr lifts one eyebrow, syllables something that can’t be anything but a piercing “no” and snaps the door closed. The girl jumps. 

Logan captures the moment with a sigh and looks critically at the result. 

The next morning the most-clicked tabloids display a full-page picture of Lehnsherr’s unforgiving rejection with a dozen variation of the same question. 

“Does he prefer blondes?”

***

Emma wishes fans were fashionable, because Erik Lehnsherr has just stepped onto the red carpet, showered by the frantic flashes of the cameras, and she suddenly feels weak in the knees.  

Somebody next to her whistles under their breath, and she totally shares the sentiment.

He doesn’t look ethereal, he looks very, very solid. Tall and self-possessed, straight shoulders and slim waist in a gorgeous oxford-blue suit that makes his legs go on forever. 

There’s something less than stoic in the line of his mouth, though, Emma notices. 

A nervous flicker of the eye, and then something happens. 

He turns around and smiles.

Emma stares.

It’s not his usual smile, sardonic and knowing, charming but in a honed way.It is a flustered smile, face flushed, bright eyes and everything. And it is directed to one man and one man only, who is approaching him with strong pushes of his wheelchair. 

Cameras go crazy around them, other actors forgotten.

Lensherr waits for his companion to join him, face so open it looks like it has lost its bark.

Emma can’t see the face of the stranger, only the straight lines of an expensive suit and a mop of rich, brown hair, and almost gets on her tiptoes to have a better view. 

The men share a few words under the hungry stares of the journalists, then Lehnsherr rolls his eyes and indulgently bends over to have his bow-tie straightened.

Emma can’t hear anything from where she’s standing, but she is quite sure Lehnsherr has just warringly asked: “Are you happy now?” 

The other man answers, Lehnsherr snorts and kisses him on the forehead. 

Then he freezes, and turns towards the people gathered as if spotting them only then. 

He glares at the journalists, steely eyes back in their place in a clear warning, and straightens back to move forward on the carpet. 

Emma walks as fast as she can without breaking into a run, heels sinking into the moquette and jewels tingling.“Mr. Lehnsherr!”She knows he has heard her, because his back stiffens, but he doesn’t turn. She frowns. He’s not getting away from this. “Mr. Lehnsherr!”The man in the wheelchair stops, turns his head and smiles so charmingly at her she feels instantly flattered. “Erik, dear, that lovely woman is trying to get your attention.”

He has a silver-polishing British accent, voice calm and collected.

“She won’t have it.”

“Dear.”

It is an obvious reprimand, one that sounds smoothed by use, and Emma sees Lehnsherr’s shoulders sag in defeat. She smiles smugly at his disgruntled frown when he turns.

His British companion swiftly approaches her, and Lehnsherr follows him a few steps behind like a recalcitrant body-guard. 

“What do you want, Frost?”

“Erik!” the man exclaims, scandalized, and glares at him. “Don’t be such a yahoo.”

He delicately lifts Emma’s hand and draws it close to his lips. 

He blinks on his blue, blue eyes and looks at her from below, and Emma feels her face redden. “Miss, I apologize for his behavior. He’s usually well-mannered.”

“Charles, you are making me sound like your corgi.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Charles answers, and winks at Emma. “You would at least be a Doberman.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Emma feels scrambled.

Lehnsherr doesn’t smile dreamily, doesn’t get teased and laughs it off. He glares and scoffs and frowns and scares people away. Who is this Charles, and what power does he have? 

“You’re gaping, Frost,” Lehnsherr says icily. “Is something the matter?”   

He moves closer to Charles and puts his left hand on his shoulder to squeeze it lightly, in an obviously protective stance. His wedding ring shines proudly against the dark fabric.

Charles tilts his head and briefly strokes his cheeks against Lehnsherr’s fingers, equally obviously calming. 

“You can’t blame me for being surprised,” Emma shoots back. “He’s too nice for you.” 

Lehnsherr sharpens his eyes and assays her, then nods once, imperceptibly.

“Now, now,” Charles intervenes, tone pacifying. “Erik is the best man I’ve ever met, and the best boyfriend I have ever had!”

Lehnsherr looks down at him. “I’m the only boyfriend you’ve ever had, Charles.”

“Well, I’m sure you would have been the best, anyway.”

Something inside of Emma is melting, but she finally remembers that she has a job to do. “High-school sweethearts?”

“No,” Lehnsherr answers, and tightens his lips to show how unwilling he’s to share more on the subject. 

“More like childhood sweethearts,” Charles adds. Then smirks. “Erik proposed when he was ten. We had met the previous week.”

Lehnsherr blushes, actually blushes. “You accepted,” he grumbles. 

“How could I not? The first time we met, you saved Cerebro. You were my knight in shining armor.”

“Cerebro?” Emma asks.

“His cat. That dunce was stuck in a tree.”

“How can you call him that, you were inseparable!”

 “He was silly!”

“He was curious!”

Lehnsherr huffs “A ridiculous cat for a ridiculous man, Xavier.”

Emma chokes on her breath. “Xavier? Xavier of the Xavier Corporations?”Charles Xavier smiles bashfully, and Emma considers it a confirmation. “I’m just a professor, really…”“A university professor,” Lehnsherr corrects. “Yes, but…”“You have been called ‘a prodigy’, If I recall correctly.”“Erik,” Charles mutters, reprimanding. He straightens his tie and clears his throat.  Emma looks from one man to the other, blinking. “You’ve just become the hottest couple in the whole city, I hope you know that.” She considers for a moment, then adds. “In every sense.” 

[myaekingheart]

You’ve Got Kudos

Written for Day 1 of the Kakashi Lounge Discord Server's September Event. Prompts: Fanfic Writer!Kakashi | Social Disaster | Modern AU | Roommates/Neighbors 

[Read on AO3] Pairing: Kakashi x Rei (OC)  Rating: Teen and Up @the-kakashi-lounge-blog

Kakashi has a dirty little secret and it's in the form of an AO3 account. No one is allowed to know that he writes Icha Icha fanfiction--especially not his library tech neighbor Rei. (Standalone companion piece to The Scarecrow and the Bell, Modern/College AU)

               Kakashi kicked off his shoes at the front door and slumped into his favorite chair. Tutoring wasn’t necessarily his favorite thing in the world but it looked good on resumes and put a little extra cash in his pockets, so he supposed he could tolerate it for a little while longer. If only his students hadn’t been quite so insufferable, that is.

               If anything, tutoring reminded Kakashi how much he hated underclassmen. His three protegees were all naïve freshman whose energy stores had yet to drain. Naruto was enthusiastic but slow on the uptake and it was hard to get him to properly focus. Sakura had potential but she was far too engrossed in her Instagram rivalry with fellow student Ino Yamanaka to make any real progress. And Sasuke was constantly brooding, there not by choice but rather because his professor threatened to flunk him if he didn’t seek outside help.

               Perhaps it would’ve been smarter to book them each separate appointments but with the way everyone’s schedules worked out, it was easier to just create one big study group. It was more efficient that way, anyway. Kakashi much preferred to kill three birds with one stone than chip away at his sanity little by little. And so every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, Kakashi trudged to the library to pore over used textbooks and incomprehensible scribbles in an attempt to explain simple concepts to brains that could not understand. This was fine. He didn’t need a social life anyway.

               Kakashi rubbed his tired eyes and checked the time. It was 5:30pm. He had no idea what he was going to do for dinner, nor did he really care. Sighing, he reached for his laptop and went straight to his email. At the very top of his inbox was a notification from Archive of Our Own: Comment on Icha Icha Bloodline. Kakashi’s heart jolted. In the solace of his apartment, this was his one saving grace: fanfiction.

               He admittedly felt a little ridiculous about the whole thing. What college guy not only wrote fanfiction, but for romance novels at that? He knew exactly how his taste in literature appeared. So few people truly understood the nuance and artistry of the Icha Icha books, writing it off as just cheap porn. Those books, however, gave Kakashi exactly the reprieve he needed. Within their pages, he could disappear from the stress of everyday life to instead revel in the throes of a dramatic fictional romance. His love for this series knew no bounds. His heart ached to share it with someone but if college had taught Kakahsi anything, it was that people never really change and are more than willing to judge you the minute you express any personal interests. High School: The Sequel, if you will. And so Kakashi had come to learn that there were only ever two places where he was safe to unapologetically indulge in his favorite series: within the comfort of his own home and on the internet.

               Fanfiction was never his original intention. Rather, it was the end result of a long string of unfortunate circumstances. The latest book had ended with the heroine caught between two very tempting suitors, a cliffhanger of epic proportions which left Kakashi itching for a resolution. A few months after publication, the author, Jiraiya, passed away, taking his secrets for the series’ finale with him.

               Kakashi had tried so hard not to think about it but the lack of closure ate away at him. He needed a valuable outlet through which to ramble, a way to confide in someone as invested in the series as he was. For a moment, he had considered joining a book club but all of his attempts failed. The only clubs that ever focused on books like these were run by sexually frustrated middle-aged women who sneered at the mere thought of letting a man into their circle. On recommendation from a friend, he turned to the campus library community for help but was met with nothing short of disaster, which thus introduced the second point of contention: Rei.

               The library check-in desk was notoriously run by volunteers, most of which were majoring in library science themselves. One such volunteer was Rei Natsuki, a junior with fiery hair and a chronic resting bitch face. It wasn’t that Kakashi didn’t like her, necessarily. Actually, every time he saw her he got this horrifying fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach that insisted he was about to throw up. He felt as if her eyes were on him constantly, studying his every move. This fact only furthered his gratitude for lumping together all of his tutoring appointments. The less time he spent in the library, the less often he would have to see her.

               Not that she was necessarily easy to avoid. Just his luck, she lived three doors down from him in the same off-campus apartment complex. At least if he timed things just right, he could avoid running into her in the hallway. Their mutual existence was like a very carefully choreographed dance on perilous terrain. They were constantly at risk of colliding with one another, a harrowing and horrifying fate.

               Their first encounter was in the fall of his freshman year when he snuck into the erotic fiction section searching for the Icha Icha books. As he skimmed the titles, he felt a pair of mossy eyes burning holes into his back like a cryptid whose domain has been intruded upon. When Kakashi turned around, he caught her peering around the edge of the bookshelf. Her expression was one of harsh focus and concern. “Looking for something?” she asked. For someone so small—she was roughly a foot shorter than he was—she was certainly terrifying.

               Kakashi’s face turned beet red, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “No, not particularly!” he exclaimed. “Just looking around!”

               “Hrmph” Rei huffed, unconvinced. “Well, if you need anything, I’ll be right over there” she pointed to the help desk at the front of the library. An older woman, one of the librarians, winked at her across the room and Rei’s face turned bright red. Without another word, she scurried off back to her station, grumbling under her breath. Once gone, Kakashi sighed and leaned back against the shelf. All of the books directly behind him tumbled to the ground with a loud thud. Rei immediately whipped around to glare at him but by then, he had already dove into the nearest study room. Frustrated, Rei stomped over to assess the damage and begin reorganizing the shelves. Kakashi apologized to the group he interrupted before booking it out of the building. It was in that moment that he officially decided: from that point onward, Icha Icha would remain his dirty little secret. Literally.  

               And thus came along the internet. At least there, hiding behind his computer screen, he could retain some sense of anonymity. He could disguise himself with a pen name much like wearing a mask. No one needed to know who he was. He pored over various forums, reading but never interacting. As refreshing as it was to find a sense of community amid other Icha Icha fans, his joy quickly faded when he realized one fatal flaw: no one knew what they were talking about. They all misinterpreted the characters, the relationships, the actions the heroine took to get to this point. Perhaps Jiraiya’s novels were too nuanced. Perhaps there was no hope for him after all. It was then, deep into a Reddit thread, that it dawned on him: the horrifying promise of writing fanfiction.

               At first, Kakashi refused. He would not stoop so low. The harder he resisted, however, the more appealing the idea slowly became. At least in this way, he could help people to better understand these stories in a way that he was familiar with. Not that he was an avid writer himself but he hoped he was familiar enough with the conventions of fiction to understand how it was done. As if running on autopilot, he ventured to Archive of Our Own and created an account under the pseud “CopyNin.”

               His fanfiction, Icha Icha Bloodline, introduced dramatic new themes and conflicts to the story he loved, expanding on the love triangle with a depth and sincerity that he hoped would make Jiraiya proud. It hadn’t gotten many hits yet, but that just made every kudos and comment feel that much heavier. As his cursor hovered over his inbox now, he almost questioned whether he even wanted to know. Every shared thought had the capacity to make or break his motivation. But if he didn’t look, he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. He needed to know. He pulled up the latest comment and his heart leapt into his throat. It was from LittleBell.

               LittleBell was, for lack of a better word, iconic amid the Icha Icha fandom. They were one of the first writers Kakashi had encountered when he first considered fanfiction as a possibility. Their name appeared in dozens of forum posts, attached to both praise and criticism alike. By the time Kakashi looked into them himself, they had already written 100,000 words worth of fic with the longest piece nearing 100 chapters. It was clear why they were so popular. The cadence of their sentences, their detailed characterization, and their dynamic plot points all made Kakashi’s heart sing. He could only hope to one day be as great a writer as they were.

               Kakashi had lurked through fifteen chapters before, in a fit of sleep-drunken gumption, he had decided to leave LittleBell a comment. It was short and sweet and afterward, Kakashi groaned into his pillow second-guessing every sentence, but he awoke to an encouraging response that firmly cemented the allure of writing a fic himself. And now here he was, faced with a comment from them on his own work. How could he ever prepare himself for something so huge? He instinctually expected scathing criticism. Your characterization sucks. You’re writing them all too flat. Her suitors would never say XYZ or do ABC. Have you even read the books? This is trash. Kakashi’s hands shook as he tried to shove those negative thoughts out of his mind. LittleBell had been so kind before so, realistically, why would their response be any different? Kakashi scratched the back of his head, knowing that the longer he waited, the more maddening this was going to become. Without another moment’s hesitation, he forced himself to view the comment.

               This was so great! I love the way you write these characters—I can tell you have a really deep understanding of the heroine, especially. It’s so refreshing to read a fic that not only retains the romance of the originals but also emphasizes it in a way that’s super meaningful rather than cheesy. My favorite part was the scene where she’s fixing his watch. “It’s really an exquisite watch. Such a shame that it’s stopped working.” “I guess that just means that we’ll have to stay in this moment forever” “What will everyone else say? They’ll get tired of waiting.” “Let them wait. I’m always late to everything anyway. What’s another eternity?” My heart! You can really tell just how much he loves her, and it makes that love triangle all the more tense and heartbreaking! You’re really just doing an incredible job with this and I can’t wait to read more!”

               Kakashi’s cheeks burned as he buried his face in his hands. It was all he could do to hide the grin on his face. Not that anyone was there to tease him for it. Pakkun was fast asleep on the couch and likely wouldn’t have cared anyway. Alone in his apartment, Kakashi was exploding. To think that someone so talented and renowned within the fandom not only noticed his work but enjoyed it was mind-blowing. This was a high he would surely be riding for the rest of the week, if not the rest of the semester. Nothing could be better than this.

               Once the debilitating excitement wore down a bit, Kakashi was then stuck with the battle of writing a response. He knew there were some in the community who considered responding a controversial topic—something about trying to increase your comment count—but Kakashi enjoyed replying to every single person who took the time to say something nice. And this was certainly something very nice. How could he possibly put into words his overwhelming gratitude? He had no clue. Kakashi stewed over the prospect for a solid ten minutes before his growling stomach urged him to hurry up. He had completely forgotten he was hungry but now his body was not going to let him forget. He considered stepping away and replying later, after he had time to chew it over, but then quickly shoved away the thought. He couldn’t afford to put this on the backburner at the risk of forgetting about it entirely. No, he needed to do this now.

               Kakashi typed, paused, considered, then backspaced and typed again. When he was finally at least mildly pleased with his response, he sucked in a deep breath and pressed Comment.

               Huffing in relief, Kakashi stretched out and leaned his head back against his chair. All that was left to do now was wait. Would they even respond back? He didn’t know. Sometimes a comment began a whole conversation, other times it was a singular instance like a comet in the night sky.

               But for now, he was going to try not to dwell on it. He received LittleBell’s praise, and if they were to respond back then so be it. It was all up to fate now. Kakashi slipped on his shoes, shoved his phone, wallet, and keys into his pocket, and headed out. As he locked his apartment, he heard without listening as a door down the hall creaked open. The sound reached his ears but his brain did not register what it was until it was too late. Turning around, he abruptly bumped into her.

               A gasp fell from Rei’s lips as she collided with Kakashi’s chest. Her half-open backpack swung on her shoulder, spilling its contents onto the floor. “S-sorry about that!” he croaked, clearing his throat. Kakashi’s hands shook as he leaned down to help gather her belongings, all the while fearing her wrath. Among the used textbooks and stuffed notebooks was a green paperback with a big prohibition sign on the cover. The little bell charm attached to Rei’s keychain jingled and automatically Kakashi was punched in the gut with a realization of Pavlovian proportions. Little Bell.

               “I-I’m sorry…what was that…?” Rei stammered and suddenly Kakashi realized he had, in fact, spoken aloud. Her voice, in response, was so much quieter than he had ever thought she was capable of—filled with the striking fear of being vulnerably and intrinsically known. Unmasked.

               Kakashi’s eyes widened as he shuffled to gather as many of her books as he could manage. “I-I didn’t know you liked the Icha Icha books” he murmured. He could hardly make eye contact as he handed her back her things.

               “Yeah…” she said, slowly accepting them, “They’re, uh…they’re my favorite.”

               Rubbing the back of his neck, Kakashi chuckled nervously and replied, “Mine, too.”

               She wasn’t sure what it was about him but in that moment, a sickening feeling filled her chest, a nauseating suspicion that she couldn’t shake. There was really only way to confirm whether or not those suspicions were correct. At the risk of looking like an idiot, she cleared her throat then and said, “You know, that’s a really exquisite watch.” Kakashi froze, his eyes gently skating down to his wrist. He wasn’t wearing a watch. His heart pounded in his chest. Rei bit her lip, dropped her eyes to the floor. “It’s, uh, it’s a shame it’s stopped working.”

               Kakashi’s mind was reeling. None of this felt real. Suddenly Rei was a completely different person to him now. He saw her not as the terrifying, impatient, and indirect girl from the library but the extremely talented, encouraging, yet perhaps unfortunately shy writer that he had spent so much time idolizing. If only he had known of the bond they secretly shared over the past few months. He could hardly fight the grin on his face as he murmured back, “Then I guess we’ll just have to stay in this moment forever.”

               Rei’s cheeks burned as she hugged her books to her chest. She could feel the laughter rising up in the back of her throat—this was so ridiculous, and yet at the same time this was everything she had ever wanted. If only Kakashi had truly known how much she had suppressed over the years, since they first met in the library. The way the old librarian encouraged her to speak to him when she caught him perusing her favorite books. The way she’d hide out in her apartment whenever he left for class, watching from the window too scared to approach. The way she channeled all of her unrequited love and inner turmoil into the very story she now knew he idolized. She felt so strange and vulnerable but also for the first time truly seen. It was the most bizarre and lovely sensation.

               She had no idea how long they actually stood there in the hallway like that, reveling in this newfound connection, but all too soon reality suddenly hit her. “D-do you have somewhere you’re supposed to be? I don’t want you to be late!” she exclaimed.

               Kakashi, however, still entranced, shook his head and replied, “Let them wait. I’m always late to everything anyway.” Rei brushed the long bangs back out of her face, completely incapable of stifling her laughter. Kakashi joined her—the breadth of his smile, the bravado of his voice, the way his eyes squinted when he laughed, all were enough to make her weak in the knees. “Are you hungry?” he then asked. “I was just about to get something to eat. You should come with me.”

               Sliding her books back into her backpack, Rei smiled and replied, “I would love that.” Swinging her bag back over her shoulder, she walked alongside him down the hallway. Their fingers itched to interlock, their hearts pounding out of their chests. He opened the door for her and together they stepped out into the autumn air. Nothing else mattered. In that moment, all that existed was them: CopyNin and LittleBell.