#sorry the instagram comments on this reel pissed me off

[meezer]

as opposed to americans, who have historically been extremely accepting of both poc and "different types of white"

[aromanticannibal]

ppl really b acting as if there's only one specific ship that has weird shippers that will complain about ppl not shipping their otp. it's literally always the case you either get fucked over for liking a gay ship or for liking a straight ship or for liking a toxic ship or people just start going "oh there's nothing wrong with the ship but the shippers💀" and you don't fucking know what they're talking about. like can we all just chill. the weird shippers r everywhere it's called some ppl are assholes sometimes. it's not fandom specific

[tenacityreturns]

aokaga fic alert!

plot: in which kagami and aomine talk about beautiful soul by jesse mccartney and also accidentally injure each other ♥  rating: sfw, very domestic, it’s just them being stupid idiots. also i wrote this in one sitting without taking breaks or reading over it so.... haha.... word count: 2098

it all started with two guys, chilling on the sofa, going through each other’s phones. or more specifically, the music apps (and kagami’s photo reel, but don’t tell anyone because aomine had only gone in looking for something of nigou!). whenever kagami encounters a song title that interests him, he’ll click on it and let about ten seconds play before he changes song again. he gets the idea. 

aomine, meanwhile, will let the songs he finds play in full. not because he respects the skip button and doesn’t want to overuse it, but because he doesn’t understand english and it becomes background noise. he’s just chilling now. legs stretched out over the couch and on top of kagami’s knees, his back leans on the armrest and he thinks about dinner instead. how cheeky he’s feeling with directly impact how extravagant his dining requests will be.

“i just took a screenshot,” kagami says blankly, with a light frown on his face.

“why?”

“i wanted to remember this song, it’s kinda cool.”

“but you’re using my---”

“yeah i know that, i forgot.”

aomine half smiles, returning to the screen. dummy. “i’ll send it to you later.”

he decides to lightly hack his boyfriend and dives onto his instagram. looks up his own page, saves a recent selfie, uploads it from kagami’s account. first, he thinks about captioning it something like sexy, or why is this guy so hot??? but decides against it and instead writes ‘i’ll never be as cool as him :(’ haha. good, harmless prank. who’s this girl that liked it immediately, huh! well, they follow each other, but aomine doesn’t like how snooping around like this is making him feel. his blue eyes will raise, taking in the sight of kagami tapping his hand against aomine’s shin in time with the song. his lips are moving, then his shoulders.

is he... sort of singing along? but to which song? he can’t hear the music from his own phone well enough with kagami’s so nearby, but then... he doesn’t recognise this american music... hm. aomine’s fond smile is forced into a smirk for dignity’s sake.

“what are you doing?”

“huh?” kagami blinks, and the tapping stops. “i used to love this song.”

“used to? it’s on your recently heard playlist, dude.”

“it’s a classic.”

“is it? i never heard of it.”

“me and niji sing it all the time, y’know, just around.”

“okay,” this emotion, unlike the snooping guilt, is straight up jealousy. shut up about nijimura already! we get it! you’re friends! “what’s it about?”

“uh,” cogs turn. his lips move again, maybe in time with the song’s lyrics? aomine isn’t sure. “like, he’s singing about not caring about looks. just... you know, wanting the person’s beautiful soul. that’s what it’s called.”

“sappy,” what a loser. this sounds like the kind of thing satsuki would be interested in for sure. aomine gets an instagram notification from kise and ignores it, then remembers his prank and that this is kagami’s phone! he opens the app again and that blond bastard has written a comment: 

‘looks like you need a new password kagamicchi!’ 

and seen right through the prank! dumb luck. except--- here’s tetsu commenting: 

‘you should never leave your phone with untrustworthy people, kagami-kun.’ 

shut the hell up!

but his oblivious rival distracts the on-coming fury by starting to sing. the tapping against his shin has started again, and he’s still scrolling through the playlist and changing songs, but singing this beautiful soul song. in english. show off! ah, he’s got a nice voice though. and he looks real cute sitting there like that. aomine doesn’t suspect kagami of snooping through the photo reel or posting to instagram, in fact: the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. aomine’s head rocks to lean against the back cushions of the sofa. his fond smile returns.

“you singing about me, bakagami?”

of course he’ll find a way to ruin a perfectly nice moment, and a fleeting glimpse of serenity in his boyfriend. kagami doesn’t look away from his phone, but says something in english that sounded like a comeback. aomine presses his heel into kagami’s thigh, but it incites a more genuine flinch that he’d been expecting and both legs are instantly retracted.

“sorry,” aomine blurts, “i forgot about your leg.”

“what about it?” kagami replies breezily in japanese again ( that is, as breezily as possible through gritted teeth ).

hello again, guilt! aomine rests his knees against the couch, peering around them to watch kagami recover. if he doesn’t in five seconds, aomine will--- no, he can’t last that long. he sits up.

“ah, man, can i get you something?”

“i’m fine, it’s just cramping from sitting so long,”

this guy! they’d not been sitting for half an hour yet! he’s just saying that so aomine won’t feel bad... the bastard... of course he’s going to feel bad!

“wipe that look off your face!” kagami exclaims, “now get outta my way so i can lie down.”

he doesn’t look pissed off, or in pain anymore, which is something. god, wouldn’t it just be easier if kagami could tell him when his half-hearted grumpy statements are genuine or when they’re just him speaking and sounding angry because it’s how he talks? 

aomine rolls himself off the sofa. “is your leg okay?” 

“don’t worry about it,” the redhead returns to aomine’s phone but extends his arm off the sofa. an invitation to join him? but can’t he just say that he isn’t mad right now? ah, look! now he’s glaring at him! “daiki. are you gonna make me say it?”

“say what?”

kagami crunches forward and the arm, still extended, reaches for aomine’s hand. of course he’ll accept the gesture. one second, they’re holding hands ( safe, comfortable, in understanding ), and the next, aomine is falling onto the couch and acutely aware of making sure he doesn’t land on the bad leg.

“be careful!” he scolds, arms bracing against the back of the couch, knees safely avoiding kagami’s limbs. “sheesh!”

“i said don’t worry, didn’t i?”

“i dunno, you talk a lot of shit,” how come aomine’s pissed off at him now!

“what!” kagami launches forward and wraps one of his arms around aomine’s waist, dragging him back as he lies down again.

“taiga!” aomine’s still more concerned about the injury.

“shut up about my fuckin’ leg or i’ll snap you like a toothpick!”

ugh! fine, alright. he’ll give in. aomine definitely sends kagami a look. it’s short-lived, though, and he finds a teasing smile. his hand rests on kagami’s massive bicep. “with these muscles? good luck with a real toothpick, buddy.”

“shut the fuck up, i’ll show you!”

there’s no doubt that kagami hadn’t actually intended to show him, but aomine’s back lasts a total of two seconds of a too-tight hug before it cracks. loudly. it didn’t hurt. caught him off guard, yes, makes him have to pause and stretch his back for a second, sure, but it didn’t hurt. kagami’s staring, aomine notices. not immediately apologising despite the sound, he sees! red eyes are wide, lips tightly turned downwards. he’s waiting to check the damage before damage control kicks in.

“you good?”

“is that all you got?”

“sorry about your back,”

aomine lowers down to lie chest-to-chest. he adjusts so that it’s comfortable to lie with his head on kagami’s shoulder. “yep.”

“does it hurt?”

“nope.”

“good,” and just like that, an arm drapes around aomine’s shoulders and they’re lying in almost silence again. kagami’s phone is somewhere on the other end of the sofa, still playing that muffled song. how long does it go on for?! that beautiful whatever conversation feels like it happened hours ago! of course, it had been the singing that started the teasing which sparked the retort which justified a prod, which had hurt and begun this mess. aomine exhales. kagami starts humming along to what aomine has guessed is the chorus.

“what sorta sappy shit is he saying now?” he closes his eyes.

“uh,” kagami begins to translate the lyrics disjointedly, really having to think about it before he says it in japanese.

I don't want another pretty face I don't want just anyone to hold I don't want my love to go to waste I want you and your beautiful soul

“it sounds better in english,” he then explains, “and when jesse sings it.”

“nah,”

“what do you mean nah?”

oops. well, yeah! alright. so aomine likes kagami’s voice better than this jesse person’s! big whoop! “nothing. so you were definitely singing about me, then.”

“yeah, i got sick of dating hot people and decided to settle.”

“shut the fuck up,” aomine’s smiling, knowing full well that kagami’s not dated anybody before. cheeky little shit!

“all the d-cup supermodels in america, you know.”

“i thought i told you to zip it?” he lifts his head. the stare-off doesn’t last long before kagami just straight up kisses him on the cheek! “hey!”

“can i have my phone back?”

he deliberates being difficult. deliberates telling kagami to get it himself, that he doesn’t know where it is, or just no. for fun, mostly. but then, that kiss had been really cute... and kagami had been kind of nice just now, before the bullshit, about translating and stuff... fine. this once, kagami’s off the hook. saved, even. aomine pushes ( carefully! ) up, finds the phone precariously close to the edge of the sofa, and returns to his place. once comfortable, he’ll hand it over. ah! the prank! he’d forgotten about that. kagami gives aomine his phone too and they are once again silent.

huh. that sure is a lot of facebook likes. his last picture wasn’t even that interesting. or was it? aomine opens the app, trying to recall what it could be about. did he get notifications for likes on things he’d shared? aomine rarely shared anything. oh, to be fair, he did share a video of nigou yesterday saying “he’s the only member of seirin i respect”... was it... that?

a picture aomine absolutely did not post is at the top of his own feed. it’s the seirin team picture, but, naturally, aomine had first seen only tetsu and kagami ( the others are definitely there, but not as interesting or important to look at, you know? ). posted twenty minutes ago. captioned: “i apologise for my last post about seirin, i’m a big idiot. they are really cool”

“hey!” aomine lifts his head up again, though this time, with an expression full of accusation. it meets kagami’s equally offended gaze.

“you posted to my instagram!”

“you posted to facebook! that’s worse!”

“no way!”

“yeah way!”

“everyone knew i got hacked, though,” he grins, “you ain’t slick at all.”

“as if i would ever call myself a big idiot, ever. they would instantly know you posted that to facebook. who else thinks seirin is cool?”

“everyone with brains!”

“bullshit!”

“idiot,”

“dumbass,”

aomine set his head down again. so much for trustworthy boyfriend, kagami taiga! though... isn’t it kind of funny that they both, separately, decided to post to each other’s social media? he’s trying hard to be pissed off about it, but the smile is too strong and, once again, he’s smiling over something kagami has done. satsuki comments under that hacked facebook post:

‘two sides of the same coin.’

which, to the unaware, means nothing. in reality, it makes him think of that thing he’s still accidentally in the habit of saying sometimes. the only one who can beat me is me. maybe kagami really is similar to himself after all? however, it’s hard to imagine that they’re that similar. aomine really likes kagami, after all.

“hey, taiga?”

maybe aomine will tell him he loves him again. does it cheapen it if he’d said it yesterday as well?

“yeah?”

“what’s for dinner?”

chicken.

“chicken, i think.”

aomine blinks. that was almost spooky.

“taiga?”

“still here,”

“love you.”

“pfff,” it’s a scoff! “lame.” insulting!”

aomine pinches him gently in the side. it makes him laugh, even if kagami isn’t that ticklish.

“alright! love you too, obviously. i kissed you, didn’t i?”

“yeah, yeah, yeah. chicken sounds good.”

“are you gonna tell me you love chicken, too? who’s the sap now?”

someone explain why such an irritating response would make aomine’s chest swell as much as that kiss on the cheek? yeah, he’s dead sure if he hadn’t been before. he loves you, kagami taiga, you dumbass, so much. of course he does. they’re two sides of the same coin.

[xswestallen]

Grant “playing both sides” has always been why so many WA fans don’t like him. I don’t take him liking Danielle’s posts or wishing her a HBD as a slight toward Candice. My issue (as always) is with Danielle. I don’t care if she posts SB bait, that what she’s always done. But, her comment section is gross and Iris is the topic of conversation. The fact that she never deletes any of it tells *me* a lot about her. If Candice’s fans did the same to Caitlin, I would hold her to the same standard.

I don’t think Grant feels like he’s “playing both sides” because Candice and Danielle really haven’t made the cast or any of their mutual friends pick a “side”. They’re not friends outside of work, but they don’t have a problem with each other serious enough that it makes either of them uncomfortable to have Grant, Carlos, Tom, Hartley, Danielle Nicolet, Caity, or anyone be friends with the other. The fandom is where the whole ‘pick a side’ mentality comes from. The rest of the cast-the people who actually witnessed this “drama”-pay no attention to it. Nobody cares, except the fandom. Candice clearly doesn’t need anyone to pick a “side”. Neither does Danielle. Fans of both need to accept that. 

I agree with you about Danielle’s comment section on Instagram being disgusting. It’s so bad, she’d need to delete pretty much half of the comments. If I were her, I’d probably turn off my comments.

So pissed off at these reactions. This is why Grant and Candice barely interact on social media. If fans could be normal instead of flipping shit they wouldn’t have to worry about commenting on each other’s posts.

You might be right. In the few hours since Grant made his comment, people have been going wild with gossip. I’ve seen everything from Grant hates Candice and this was a pity compliment, to Grant feels bad for supporting Danielle so he’s complimenting Candice publicly as a form of apology, to Grant is in love with Candice and flirting with her while his fiancee is away visiting her family, to Candice payed or blackmailed Grant into making that comment. I don’t know which is more ridiculous.

All I know is, I feel sorry for Grant and Candice. They’re friendship shouldn’t cause people to freak out like this. I wish they could just be left alone.

I’m sorry but regardless of the sb bullshit. Grant is Danielle’s friend, too. And sure as hell can post a picture of the two of them if she damn well pleases. The same if she’d post one of her and Carlos. & Grant is allowed to like it without it being conspiracy against Candice. These ‘fans’ are so goddamn entitled thinking they have a right to comment on his relationship like their opinions matter and are justified in cyberbullying his fiancé cause they can’t separate reel life from real life.

I agree. Nobody has a copyright on taking pictures with Grant and posting them. Grant and Danielle are friends, just like Grant and Candice are friends and Carlos and Danielle are friends. They can all post whatever pictures they want with whoever they want. I never said otherwise. I have also been one of the most vocal people calling for Candice fans to stop gossiping about Grant’s romantic relationship with his fiancee, LA Thoma, and hating on her. 

I’m sorry if I’m reading this wrong, but you come off as very angry. Where is this rant coming from? Why are you sending it to me? Look at any of my posts and you’ll clearly see that I never took issue with Danielle posting pictures of her and Grant nor have I ever condoned cyberbullying LA Thoma. You’re ranting at the wrong person.

TBH it’s like Candice’s fans want to sabotage her and Grant. It’s probably a minority but still it’s hella annoying. Grant’s not perfect but he has done stuff for her BTS. We gotta give him credit.

It does feel like that sometimes. 

Candice loves Grant and appreciates what he’s done for her. That’s all that matters. Instead of crucifying Grant for not doing exactly what we think he should do 24/7, we could be like Candice and thank him for what he has done. If it’s good enough for her, it should be good enough for Candicanes too.

[artificialqueens]

Weirdly Perfect Part 2 (Trixya) – First S Phoenix

A/N: Here’s the less angsty second part I was promising-though there is still some angst in there (mostly on Trixie’s end) before we get to the happy ending these two deserve (this is also the part that makes the title make sense btw). Once again, I want to thank anyone who reads this and feedback is definitely encouraged. Also, I wanted to give a special thanks to everyone that liked and commented on part 1-I really, really appreciate it.

We had spent the last few hours filming. Usually, being around Katya (especially after not seeing her in what felt like forever) would give me all the energy and cheerfulness I needed to power through (no matter how exhausted I felt) and make the episodes funny and entertaining (joking around with your best friend is supposed to be easy, isn’t it?). But today I just couldn’t bear it.

I arrived to WOW a little later than usual due to my jet lag, a sleepless night of unwelcome but unpreventable sobbing, and my desire to avoid Katya for as long as possible (no matter how counterproductive it was). Luckily, Katya was already seated and having what looked like an animated conversation with Pete, so my arrival went unnoticed. I quickly tore my eyes away from him and slipped into the dressing room to finish getting ready. It hurt to even look at him now. Knowing that any bad pun or silly story or steadying grasp after laughing too hard (I don’t care what Katya says, I know he actually doesn’t mind being touched) will never mean as much to him (since it’s coming from me and not his man) is heart-shattering.

After collecting myself (or at least attempting to) and giving my hair another quick fluff, I made my way to set where I was met with Katya’s brilliant smile (the smile that I used to think was just for me, the smile that used to simultaneously make my heart and stomach flutter).

“Why if it isn’t the one and only Tracy Joanne Mary-Louise Elizabeth Martel. Long time, no see…or call or text. What’s new, Elisabeth Shue?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual,” I mumbled lamely, looking down to smooth out my already wrinkle-free dress.

“The usual,” Katya replied in loud disbelief. “Mama, you’re telling me that spending a weekend engulfed in all the love, merchandizing opportunities, and taxi pollution that DragCon NYC has to offer is just the same old-same old?”

“Look, we’ll talk later, okay,” I responded a little harsher than I meant to. “I think we both have a lot to tell each other but for now, let’s just get this over with.”

With that Katya’s face fell, all giddiness gone. He softly nodded his consent and turned back around to face the cameras and begin.

And that brings us to the present, back at Katya’s apartment, needing to make good on the unwelcome though necessary promise of “we’ll talk later.”

“So, kissing me is weird, is it? Well, it’s a good thing you never let me fuck you then Barbara, cause that would’ve felt real unusual,” Katya jokes, his smile not reaching his eyes. He leans back, bracing his strong veiny forearms on his bed, the bed where it all began (though last time we were in Boston, not California, and I didn’t want to simultaneously fuck, yell at, and ball my eyes out to my best friend). His eyes seem to be looking into my soul for answers and for the first time I feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

“What was I supposed to say,” I reply in frustration. “I didn’t want to give people the wrong impression of our relationship.”

Katya looks at me with doubtful eyes as he opens his mouth to speak, but I immediately cut him off. It seems in the battle of regret, sorrow, anger, and horniness raging in my brain, anger is winning out.

“And who are you to judge,” I sharply question him. “You go off on tangents about me all the time. You once spent a solid minute and a half talking about my dick but I don’t complain to you about it.”

“I wasn’t complaining about anything and you know it,” Katya responds stoically, trying to remain calm. “I was just wondering out loud why you would characterize that moment as weird of all things when that certainly wasn’t how I felt about it.”

“Am I not allowed to feel how I feel,” I whine back, knowing I sound like a petulant child but too riled up to care.

“And the bigger issue of this pointless though seemingly inescapable fight,” Katya continues without acknowledging my complaint. “Is the fact that you’ve been snippy with me all day after not speaking to me almost all weekend. And I know that it’s more than just you being tired so if that’s your excuse you can save it. If I did something to piss you off please just tell me instead of putting us through all this.”

“Why do you care anyway,” I snap back, ignoring his plea. I see his eyes widen in hurt and surprise. “I think we can both be professional enough to get through UNHhhh but why do we need to be friends outside of work? Like you said, our relationship is only professional,” I say, repeating the line from his Instagram Live that I had practically memorized.

“When did I say that,” Katya questions, irritation evident in his voice. “Sure, our relationship is professional sometimes but it’s so much more than that and you know it. I might have had a hard time reigning in my feelings for a little while but that’s done now. And since the thought of kissing me seems to have caused you all this anguish…”

“You’re one to talk,” I interrupt, jealousy and heartbreak taking over (that’s done now taking the place of I’m in love as some of the most upsetting words I’d ever heard Katya say). “You must not enjoy kissing me much either since you now have this new man you’re in love with. Oh, and thanks for telling me about him by the way. Tell me Katya, if we’re such good friends, then how come I had to find out about the new love of your life on social media like all your other fans?”

Through all my yelling, my reeling head can only imagine Katya in the arms of a large muscular man (his usual type) who can make him smile and laugh with ease and doesn’t get into petty fights over nothing and argue with her over his own hurt feelings.

“I’m just sorry I’m not enough for you. I’m just sorry Trixie is just too much of a sissy for you to even consider being with,” I say (my step-dad’s voice loud in my head, intermingled with images of Katya’s new boyfriend). That last part came out with much less force than I wanted and my cheeks flush in embarrassment as I fight (unsuccessfully) to keep my tears from spilling.

Katya’s face immediately softens as realization dawns on him after taking in everything I’ve just admitted.

“Bri, you know that’s not true,” he replies in a now more gentle, sympathetic tone. He moves his hand to tenderly cup my tear-stained cheek. “You’re a bourbon-slinging, banjo plucking, tall drink of sparkling water with extra lemon…and you’re the strongest man I know.”

“Not strong enough to tell you how I feel until it’s too late,” I mutter, moving out of his grasp to turn away from him.

“Is that what this was all about,” Katya asks as he regards me cautiously.

Without looking up at him I faintly nod, my cheeks still red with humiliation.

“It’s never too late for you Brian,” he begins reassuringly as I raise my head to look at him. “I could be entering a wormhole just about to reunite with my dead dad and gather proof of extraterrestrial life that would finally garner me the respect that a female scientist of my caliber deserves…”

I subtly roll my eyes and start to move away again but he grabs my wrist and pulls me back to face him, his eyes bearing into mine with complete seriousness.

“…and you could call me up on the space phone and tell me to turn around and bring my ass back home and I would. Fuck, of course I would, because it’s you I’m talking to on the other line,” he finishes, breath slightly ragged after his confession. His earnest gaze is now joined by a timid yet hopeful smile as his thumb lightly caresses the wrist he’s still holding.

“Is the space phone ringing, Brian? Do you need me to come back home,” Katya asks with a hint of Maureen-voice that I can tell he’s trying to suppress (due to the seriousness of the moment and all).

A small smile forms on my face and with that his grin instantly widens.

“First of all, I don’t think space phones are a thing…at all. And second, I would never ask you to give up…”

And just like that we’re in his bed again and his lips are on mine and under us the sheets are soft, contrasting with his familiar rough hands now running up my arms and tugging at my shirt. His hot, tobacco-tinged breath now passing my lips and filling my mouth as our tongues tentatively brush against one another. This time we both feel it. This time I know.

Both breathless, we simultaneously pull away reluctantly and I reach out to stroke the back of his neck which has started to dampen with sweat.

“Was that too weird for you,” Katya questions mischievously though I can sense a touch of uneasiness as he awaits my reply.

“Yes,” I answer with a knowing smirk as I pull him towards me for another kiss, “But it was perfect.”