it's been a while since we posted some photos we took

Cosplay, Fanart and Plagiarism

(gif curtesy to Mel)


TL;DR: An artist traced (!) my cosplay photo without permission, gave me zero credits, sold the prints at a con and denied she’s ever seen my photo.

First, both of us, the cosplayer and the photographer, want to say that it would never have come to this if the artist would have immediately apologized to us in person, instead of being extremely rude to us and letting things escalate. A simple sorry and taking down the prints would’ve sufficed.

In the beginning of January, being hyped with the new SU episodes, I immediately fell in love with Blue Diamond and cosplayed her. Two months ago, a friend let me know that an artist she saw drew a fanart based on my photo. I was extremely flattered and happy, but also kinda sad the artist gave me zero credits. Us cosplayers and photographers work really hard to get a nice result, and everyone is happy when their photo serves as an inspiration for another artwork. I wrote a letter to her stating that I love her art, but I’d like her to credit me as a source of inspiration (adding the screen shot).

For two months, there was silence. I tried it again a few weeks ago, but again, no response. Okay, what can you do…



Last weekend we had a big con in Germany with a huge artist alley and both of us, the photographer and the cosplayer, attended. Suddenly, a friend came to us and said that there’s a girl selling this exact drawing. We were puzzled and decided to go to her booth and look at it ourselves.

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Sugar Sweet | 5 | (M)

word count: 5.4k

genre: lots of smut + fluff + slight angst; college AU + fuckboy!kihyun

pairing: reader/kihyun

summary: your best friend & roommate changkyun just wanted to help get you laid. instead you found solace in a pink haired man named kihyun who had a smart mouth with sharp words you weren’t afraid to let cut you, as long as he didn’t mind you hurting him a little too.

a/n: i’m so sorry for the wait guys! work has been stressing me lately along with some personal issues but i appreciate your guy’s patience. the next chapter will already be written out but requests will be taken care of before i post the next so please continue to be patient until then and check the schedule if you’re wondering about it.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 6

masterlist

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Some quick musings on the new update

thelostspecial.com

Here is the text, with my first thought comments in bold:

I was going to draw this out longer but the truth is, I’m bored.

OK

There is no Lost Special. There never was, and there never will be.

And you know this objectively?

Once again, in their need to keep this midnight train going, TJLC fans created something out of nothing.

Even if that is that case, why do you care?

Seeing this obsession with “The Lost Special,” even though series 4 was clearly over, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to run a sociological experiment with a vicious fandom in denial.

Steven brought it up, not us.  Also, even if the series is over, that doesn’t mean it’s over.  They’ve repeatedly said they have through series 5 mapped out. It was only in December 2016 they started hinting at “we don’t know, this could be it.” Sure Jan.

My poorly assembled website took not more than twenty minutes to cobble together (as some people rightly pointed out) and very little effort to maintain.

This is a lie.  

“By the pricking of my thumbs (something wicked this way comes)”- I edited an ominous message into the code and title, referencing the Macbeth quote used in The Six Thatchers. It was strange to see how many people didn’t recognise the “pricking” quote and even criticised the website because it allegedly didn’t call back to Sherlock in any way- except that I was directly quoting a series 4 episode.

Except most of us did recognize this?  What about your dancing man code reference to Unto the Breach?

Watching fans defend how shoddy the website is, in their need for thelostspecial to be real was especially funny. It was also funny to see the people who guessed the website was fake and said as much, but didn’t even care because they desperately needed something to hold onto, with Sherlock over.

Whichever, why do you care?  Why would it be funny to you?

Then there’s the people who clocked that thelostspecial.com wasn’t “real”… and yet never question their own dedication to TJLC and/or the existence of a fourth episode of series 4, concepts entirely created by Tumblr.

The lost special site was only one of hundreds of indications something is fucky.  

 Anyhow. Next, I threw a random bunch of numbers and photos out there to see how people would scramble and react, and you didn’t let me down. Mostly I chose the first photo I found of a character that I liked the look of, in Google; there wasn’t real logic. I re-used some images out of laziness. I used an online generator to make the Dancing Men/Henry V code post.

So the meanings we found in everything, tying it somehow back to Sherlock, or ACD canon, or anything else were all coincidences?  

What do we say about coincidences?

40, 27, kra, the various “hints” you think you found on the website and found countless possible meanings of, they were chosen at random. Even the elephant photo was chosen at random. It wasn’t until after I edited it into the main website photo that I discovered the poor thing was named Mary and had been shot and executed for killing a man (on 9.13.16. Everyone overthought that one too much.)  So I used that info because it was serendipitous. “The universe is rarely so lazy?” Friends, the universe is often lazy.

“They were chosen at random.”  “The universe is rarely so lazy?

Sure Jan.

When I added a black image with five pixels of colour to the website, you did not let me down. People played with the image until they became convinced it was QR code spelling something out. It was just five meaningless pixels of nothing, created in MS Paint.

Yet you did the whole thing in 20 minutes.

The static gif was taken from a YouTube video of TV static from some movie, with an old Moriarty close-up thrown in.

We know, 28 days later.  With Moriarty loaded in.  Again, whole thing in 20 minutes.

The photo of John and Sherlock sitting in the watery 221B, I got it from Farfarawaysite.com, and scaled it down a little because the photo was large. That’s it. I didn’t change the proportions in any way, or alter the colours, or add anything to the photo. Anything you saw in it, you imagined. I left the big black header on the website as a hint to keep your eye on those, since the thing I changed on 2/11 was in the similar Twitter header.

”That’s it. I didn’t change the proportions in any way, or alter the colours, or add anything to the photo. Anything you saw in it, you imagined.”

Like Murderous Mary being photoshopped into the back picture? Sure Jan: http://whimsicalethnographies.tumblr.com/post/156824256785/221bloodnun-whimsicalethnographies

I changed the plain black header of the Twitter to a black one with a word embedded in it. The profile photo was changed to a plain black photo with XX hidden in it. No one bothered checking it, though clearly the account was active again, so I changed the profile photo to show the Xs, as a hint to look deeper. Finally people found the “clue” today, not that it matters. The word spelled out there is another blind alley that leads nowhere.

Then accept all our follow requests.  

MMTE: The source code message was a hint toward Murderous Mary the Elephant, which some of you guessed but no one looked for it.

murderousmarytheelephant.tumblr.com

(Don’t bother trying to access it, there’s nothing in there.)

DON’T LOOK NOTHING TO SEE HERE, EVEN THOUGH THERE’S A PASSWORD.

There was no set schedule for changes to thelostspecial. I used intermittent reinforcement to keep people frustrated but coming back for more. That’s why I added and removed things at unexpected times. There is no pattern.

Ok?

For people wondering, wow, why would anyone take so much time to do this? Well, I didn’t. Creating the plain black squares with a few letters, throwing a message into the source coding,  and uploading the new website photo of John and Sherlock took maybe 5 minutes. Creating a side blog with no posts and keeping it private takes one minute.

Except the photoshopping you DID do as established would have taken more.  Even searching for the first image you found would have taken time.

Overall, it takes less than twenty minutes a week to do this, once it was set up, because really? You do all the work for me. You all did what TJLCers do best- you took a bunch of random data, inflated it into something much more complicated than it really was, and created your own narrative out of it. Even knowing it might be nothing, and was probably just a fan-made site, you’ve still allowed yourselves to get worked up over it and allowed yourselves to hope. You’re reading into nonsense and finding clues where there are none, and naturally most of those “clues” pointed exactly where you wanted them to point to. Confirmation bias at its finest.

Well all I get from this is that we’re smarter than you are.

Learn from this.

Stop falling into conspiracies. Trust yourself when you can see that something isn’t real or likely. Alternately, find something that doesn’t make you feel sad or heartbroken.

Seriously?  “Trust yourself when you can see that something isn’t real or likely.”

Instincts are to be trusted, John.  

Also, my instincts have gotten me into a pretty good place. I’ll keep trusting them, thanks, and they tell me something is fucky.  We’ve seen this episode before.  

Goddamn you’re arrogant.

A few final notes:

“And in conclusion *jerk off motion*

I was somewhat entertained by the several dozen times people attempted to reset the password for the website and access the control panel. If I was petty, I would’ve logged your IPs and reported you to your ISP. (Don’t worry, I didn’t. I don’t care that much.)’

You cared enough to look.  

I didn’t send the “mole” anons or any other messages on Tumblr. I think other fans decided to join the game. I imagine they’ll continue until they get bored, too.

Read: I can’t say why everything else is fucky too.  Must be more people like me.

The only twitter account connected to thelostspecial.com is twitter.com/thelostspecial. I have no idea who runs the “contact” twitters but I’m positive they’re fan accounts. (If you think BBC-sanctioned accounts would post like that, I have a bridge to sell you.) As for my twitter, I set up the thelostspecial twitter account, followed some BBC-related accounts and left it alone for a week while TJLC fans went wild trying to suss out who I was following. That’s all I did with it.

Then accept my follow request.  Seriously, YOU’RE SO CLEVER I need to follow you to learn your secrets.

I didn’t start thelostspecial Instagram account. Someone else did that, I don’t know who.

Nobody asked.  Actually, I didn’t even know there was an instragram account.  Did anyone else know?

And if you enjoyed hunting, try a legitimate online riddle game, such as Amnesya.com for a challenge! All the fun, none of the TJLC and fandom “fucky” business.

Well, since you brought up “fucky business,” why are they screenshots of the Shrewd Living posts in the “Museum?” Did you do that too? Wow.  In charge of a scam website.  Oh, you don’t know about that?  Then why put it in there?  Why, John?

Nah.

Sherlock Series 4 is over. This is the end.

Thanks for playing TheLostSpecial! Goodbye and God bless.

Seriously, we’ve seen this episode before.

WE’VE SEEN THIS EPISODE BEFORE.

Size Doesn’t Matter**

Request


SMUT WARNING**

“Joe, you’re so small buddy” Josh says as he scrolled through the group pictures on his phone that were taken last night.

“Yeah mate there is only one good picture where we all look relatively the same height but Jack and Oli already gone and posted that one” Caspar said as he double tapped the picture he had just mentioned. 

“Hey you snooze you lose” Oli said from his position on the couch. 

The boys had gone out last night and, as usual, had taken a few group pictures. Apparently the angles weren’t correct and in each picture the boys all towered over Joe, making him look smaller than he actually was. 

You had your legs pulled into your chest as you sat on the couch next to your boyfriend who was also scrolling through the photos from last night. He had no readable expression on his face but you knew what he was feeling, you could read him like a book.

“Hows your new diet going by the way? Thought we’d see some results by now” Caspar said in his usual joking voice. 

“Mate it doesn’t make me grow taller” Joe looked over at Caspar, giving him a weird look.

“I know, I just thought you would look bigger. I mean you’ve gotten a lot stronger but it doesn’t really show” He defended himself while the other boys laughed at Joe’s rebuttal.

“Looks like you’ll always be the smallest bud” Josh said looking up from his phone and over to Joe. 

“Actually that would be Y/N. That’s why I’ve been keeping her around” Joe said sending a wink your way. 

“She could do better” Josh remarked, something that had also been tossed around as a joke ever since you and Joe started dating. 

“Oh cheers guys” You said rolling your eyes before getting up and heading into the kitchen. 

“Alright mate,” Oli said with a yawn as he stretched his arms over his head, “I have videos that need to be edited and uploaded for tonight so I’m going to head out.”

“Yeah we should go too” Caspar said standing up and walking towards the door, Josh and Oli following close behind. 

“Bye Y/N!” The boys all said as Joe followed them to the door. 

“Bye guys” 

“See you guys later” Joe said with a wave as he closed the door behind his friends and walked into the kitchen to find an unamused look at your face. “What?”

“I wish you wouldn’t let them do that”

“Do what?

“You know what Joe.” You said giving him a sad yet disappointed look.

“Y/N it’s fine. They’ve been doing that since the day we met them, its nothing now, just a good laugh.”

“Except its not, we both know that. Isn’t that why you started going to the gym more? You always tell people your trying to build muscle and the people who don’t know you like I do believe you. But I don’t because I know that theres more to your reasoning.” 

You stood there watching your boyfriend shift on his feet as he took in your words. You’ve been together for 3 years and have seen him get so mad at himself at something he couldn’t physically change to the point where he wouldn’t even talk to you. You saw how the boys would tease him about his size and his height, everyone laughing knowing it was all just good fun, but you were the only one who saw Joe after everyone had left. He’s dealt with this for a majority of his life and it still got to him. 

The first couple of weeks after he started working with his personal trainer were great but when the results didn’t come in quick enough, Joe got down on himself again making it harder for him to intake all the calories that he was suppose to, or he’d end up skipping the gym all together.

You made your way over to him when the silence lingered above you for way too long. 

“Joe,” You said taking his his hands in yours. “I wish you actually meant what you said, that it was all just a laugh. And listen, your not small or short. Your actually quite tall, for me anyway, and you defiantly have grown since the first time we’ve met. You were perfect for me then and your perfect for me now. Besides, not really sure who you’re trying to impress, is there something or someone I should know about Sugg?” You questioned as you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“No love, only you” he said pulling you in for a kiss before wrapping his arms tightly around you. “And you’re right, you’re always right but it does suck that it does still get to me but I can’t really help it. Maybe I should just find me some new friends, ones who are smaller and shorter than me” 

You laughed into his shoulder. “You want to hang out with primary schoolers?”

“Hey! That wasn’t nice” 

“Sorry, I had too” you said kissing his lips again. 

Joe went to pull away but you leaned in closer, following his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you once again while his hands moved down to your waist and your tongues danced around each others mouths.

“Why don’t you let me take care of you Joe, I’ll make you feel better” You pulled away and whispered in his ear. Joe’s lips tugged themselves into a small smirk before leading you up to the bedroom.

You two were tugging at each other’s shirts as soon you at stepped foot into the room. With your lips reconnected, you blindly fumbled with the button on his jeans. Once you had successfully undid the button, you pushed him back onto the bed and pulled his jeans and boxers down his legs. 

“The boys may think you’re small, but your not” you said with a small smirk.

You waisted no time and quickly took his length in his hand, pumping it a few times as you watched Joe start to wither away at your touch. Slowly, you moved your mouth to his cock, licking a strip up the side before placing your lips over the tip, giving it a kiss. 

“Y/N” Joe breathed out as he looked down at you. 

You looked at him through your eyelashes as your lips made their way further down his cock. You sucked as you bobbed your head up and down, your hand working at the base of his cock. 

Joe let his head fall back into the pillows as a low moan escaped his lips. You picked up the pace at which you were bobbing your head, occasionally stopping to swirl your tongue around the tip before returning back to your previous actions.

Joe reached a hand down to cup your chin, guiding your face up to his so he could smash his lips into yours once again. You pulled away after a while and quickly removed your own jean and panties before straddling Joe’s waist and reconnecting your lips. 

Joe reached around your back and unclasped your bra, his massaging them in his hand before your bra even hit the grounds. With your lips still connected, Joe flipped the two of your over so your were now laying on your back.

“So much for letting me take care of you” You furrowed your eyebrows at Joe who only smirked in response. 

“One day, I promise” Joe said before guiding himself into you, causing you to moan out slightly, your hand gripping the bed sheets.

Joe gave you a few moments to adjust before he started thrusting in and out of you as he gradually picked up the pace. 

“Oh god” You moaned out, your grip on the sheets tightening. 

Joe moved a hand down to your clit as he continued to thrust deeper into you. 

“Fuck” he growled lowly as he felt your walls clench around him, making it harder for him to thrust into you. 

“I’m close Joe” you moaned out as you hands moved to grip onto his shoulders. 

“Just a little longer love” Joe said thrusting into you quicker as he too was getting close to his release. 

“Joe!” You yelled out feeling your orgasm creep closer and closer until you couldn’t hold it back any longer, your juices spilling over Joe’s cock as he continued to thrust into you, milking out your high, until he came himself. 

Joe pulled out of you and laid on the bed beside you, both your chests heaving up and down. 

“Feel better?” You said rolling onto you side, watching the small smile form across his lips as he thought back to the conversation the two of you had before hand.

“Yeah, thanks. I’m sorry I let their comments get to me, I know they don’t mean it and thats the worse part”

“I’ll tell them to quit, they seem to listen to me the most” you said, the two of you laughing. 

“Thanks love” Joe said rolling over on his side and giving you a quick kiss.

this is the golden age (of something good and right and real)

♡♡♡ for the lovely @jackiemoreno, the brightest star in my sky ♡♡♡

also on ao3

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, darling.“ Lena answers right away, accent thicker than usual despite the fact she’s been back in Ireland for so little time. “Just two more days until I’m back home.”

Kara presses the phone closer to her ear, closing her eyes and concentrating until she can hear the steady rhythm of Lena’s heartbeat. She sighs for what feels like the thousandth time since her girlfriend has been gone, never mind the fact it’s only the fifth day of their week long separation - her heart aches as if they’ve been apart for months.

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Wizard World - KJ Apa Smut

Warning: swearing,smut,daddy kink, time jumps & fluff

A/N: The beginning up until you see the ^^ is all true. I actually met the Riverdale cast on June 3rd in Philly. The rest is just my imagination. 

Enjoy xx

Originally posted by alinok


Today was the day I never thought would happen. I showered and dressed myself ready for the day ahead of me. I found myself lucky to get tickets to Wizard World in Philadelphia and meet my fave KJ Apa. It was hard to get here since it took me 15hrs by bus from Toronto. 

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kaisoo real couple plaids and outfits theory 161016

First of all it started with this, when ji wore plaids/checkered as well. That day, they went to the movies, them alone, if i remembered correctly, I believe this date is close to Valentines day as well. Cute.

Now look at these are kaisoo’s iconic moments, and notice this, at least one of them is always wearing plaids / checkered.

One can argue that ‘its a photoshoot they are wardrobed by staffs’ and you are very right but that doesn’t take away the fact that kaisoo wore plaids when kaisoo happened. kaisoo x plaids has been established before kxk, and it is possible that kaisoo notices this?

Because there are many other incidences where kaisoo happened when there is plaid. Remember when ji hosted a radio? That day he called himself kai-d (j) (sounds like kadi) and he was wearing plaids as well. 160705

And also the infamous kaisoo private fan meeting. Remember the very first flower crown moment, ksoo was wearing plaid once again. (This meeting is also somehow private, why must it be so secretive when its something concerned of kaisoo being together)

—-

Moving on, Kaisoo can match clothes once and it could be coincidence, but they didnt only match once, they matched plaids many times in the airport.

Plaids is a kaisoo thing ever since those iconic photos, So why did they choose to SUDDENLY match plaids, out of all pattern after april 1st?

Lets go to their airport fashion, ex o is a mature group, i doubt they are 100% controlled by their stylists. And kaisoo matched clothes several times as well.

Here are some examples of kaisoo matching plaids.

- 160812 plaid shirts

- 160824, again, kaisoo wearing the white undershirt, the same mask and both unbuttoned their shirts. Also notice these two dates are quite close, you really think these are only coincidences? It looks planned to me, but maybe it could be coincidence?

- moving on to the third time, 160930. This day is important, because I noticed something curious

And now take a look at ksoo, his shirt size is way too big for the shirt to be his.

He didn’t roll up his sleeves, which is so long its way past his hands, and he doesn’t tuck his shirt in as well. We can notice easily that this shirt bigger than his usual shirts. That shirt is sizes bigger than him yes? I really wonder if that shirt is his..

now look at ji

doesn’t his shirt look a bit too tight? Compare this shirt with other pics like the ones I posted above, ji’s shirts are not usually this tight.

Kaisoo wore these shirts together to the airport.  ksoo wore a size too big and ji a size too small. Did they wear each other’s clothes? It could be done on purpose, I don’t believe in coincidences, not when it occurs repeatedly

- next outfit, also a very strange day. 160909. This is the day when dispatch took this picture

Why is this important? Well their outfit.

You see the green pants soo wear? Then the navy blue shirt ji wore? The navy blue shirt actually is 90% similar, if not exactly the same with the navy shirt soo wore WITH HIS GREEN PANTS during hats on fansign.

We all know hats on fansign is special, bc its one of the minimal fansigns/meetings kaisoo attended together. And what a strange coincidence that media, and hats on themselves also posted a pic of kaisoo on 160528:

So strange… dispatch posted pics of them with that outfit, while media and hats on posted a pic of ksoo wearing that outfit before…. Do we really think this is coincidence? I can tell you the media definitely knows btw.

Next, to a more recent event.

Ji wore checkered / plaid when he did his Vapp on 161012 at midnight. (so its in dark AM)

That night ksoo was in japan, and ji didn’t see ksoo for a few days. Coincidence again? But this is not it, bc look:

This is ksoo on 161012 morning AFTER Vapp. He wore a plaid shirt underneath his jacket. Maybe ksoo watched ji’s vapp broadcast? coincidence again… Maybe kaisoo is showing us something who knows.

And here is DMC rehearsal, where ji once again wore blue plaid. A few hours after this, ksoo returned. coincidence again?

So why is it always plaids when smth kaisoo related happen? Notice All these couple outfits though. Tell me, are we sure these are only coincidences? The point is, I can’t but notice these vague correlation between plaids patterning and all these kaisoo related occurrences…  

And lastly, this is just another example of kaisoo matching colour code clothes after kxk, and after sooxothers ships. kaisoo don’t only match plaids, but the thing with plaid is too much coincidence.

So is kaisoo actually making a statement that they are still going strong especially after kxk?

Besides, Why does it have to be them? Why do these coincidences have to revolve around kaisoo? bc If kaisoo is fake, the two people matching plaids and checkered wont be kaisoo, it could be, who knows. Ksoo x leo for example. Or ji x leetue k lmao?

Shippers didnt make these up, kaisoo themselves did.

Ps this theory aimed to target on plaids only as these are the most obvious clothes matching events I discovered. Also yes other boys do wear plaids too, its certainly a popular pattern but I am only pointing out these coincidences as an eye opener.

A THEORY IS DEFINED AS AN IDEAS that are TRANSLATED FROM MY BRAIN TO A TUMBLR POST. I declare nothing as Facts. This is only made for fun and help spark ideas of your own.

So yes everyone, have fun shipping! Kaisoo has been showing us they are still okay and going strong all throughout 2016, not only through couple clothes. So why should we give up? Stay strong KD!

—-

Post is edited 2017

Beyond a reasonable doubt

My response to recent fandom meltdowns. What would Mulder and Scully do? Slightly not safe for work. 

Mulder was propped up on his left arm, his mobile in his right hand, the bed sheets tangled around his legs. Scully took a moment to admire the ripple of muscles in his arms and chest as he scrolled.

           “What are you looking at Mulder?”

           “There’s been a drama unfolding on Tumblr.”

           “About Trump?” She untied the belt on her robe and hung it over the chair next to her side.

           “No, about that actress Gillian Anderson.”

           She sat on the bed. “Who?”

           He looked at her with a lazy grin. “The one who played Stella Gibson in The Fall.”

           Recognition flickered across her eyes and she hummed a little. “Ah, yes. Those silk blouses and pencil skirts. Those legs. That impeccable British accent.” She licked her lips and closed her eyes for a moment.

           Mulder chuckled. “You know there’s no such thing as a British accent, don’t you Scully?”

           “Huh?”

           “There are around 60 accents in the British Isles. Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson speaks with a southern English accent. Plummy.”

           Scully let herself slide further down the bed and turned to face him. “Like Phoebe Green, you mean?” She did her best ‘home counties’ accent and waited for him to bite. He rewarded her with an eye roll and a quiet ‘hmph’. “Can I see?” She took the phone. “So what’s the issue? Why is this picture a big deal? She looks happy.”

           “Yep. She does. But it’s who she looks happy next to that’s creating the blow-up.” He tapped the screen. The image enlarged.

           “Who is it?”

           “His name is Peter Morgan and he’s a screenwriter. We watched his most recent show, The Crown.”

           Scully peered at the phone. “Is that the one with Queen Victoria?”

           “No, that was Victoria. The Crown is the one about the early days of Queen Elizabeth II. Remember?”

           “Oh yes, that was great. A young woman thrust into the patriarchy, daring to have her own opinions and having to put up with a partner whose attention span was akin to a five-year-old and whose loyalty was sometimes dubious. Tough woman.” She gave him back the phone. “So what’s the fuss? And why are you on Tumblr, Mulder?”

           He put the mobile on his bedside drawer. “The fuss is that she has been linked to David Duchovny, the actor from Californication, for quite some time. And the fandom is in meltdown that she is now apparently seeing this Peter Morgan. It’s goodbye Gillovny and hello Gilligan.”

           Scully shook her head. “So the poor woman is reduced to a celebrity match name instead of being recognised for the talented actor that she is. It’s disgraceful. Imagine if we were given a couple name? How demeaning would that be?”

           “Would we be Sculder or Mully?” he asked, watching the strap of her nightgown slip down her shoulder. He placed a gentle kiss there. She turned and stroked his head, chuffing out a soft laugh.

           “And was she ever confirmed to be dating that Duchovny guy? I mean, he’s pretty hot, but do we really know anything about him? He might be conceited or arrogant or unfaithful or boring. Although, I did read his books and they were funny and sweet,” she let Mulder continue his ministrations. “And this Peter guy might be plain in comparison but he might be super intelligent, witty, charming. Women are turned on by all sorts of different things – emotional, intellectual and physical traits. It’s sometimes a slow and subtle burn that worms its way through your entire system until one day you look up and realist that this ordinary person you’ve known for a while is actually the love of your life.”

Mulder stopped kissing her arm and looked up at her. “Ordinary?”

“I’m not necessarily talking about you, Mulder. Carry on.” He did. “And how do any of these people on Tumblr know anything about these celebrities? They must spend half their day consumed with what famous people are doing instead of living their own lives, or loving their partners or children, or creating things, or helping others.”

           Mulder kissed down her arm to her elbow and licked the soft skin at the inside. She let out a slight moan. That sound did things to him.

“I know, right?” His teen girl impersonation made her giggle and he listened to that wonderful sound before licking again.

“Mulder, that’s really good, but I still want to know why you’re on Tumblr?”

“I’ve got an account.” He moved down her arm to her wrist and pressed his full lips to her papery skin there. That always got a reaction. She squirmed and he put his other hand over her abdomen, lightly stroking the silky material of her gown.

“What?” she pushed his hand away.

He pulled back and frowned. “Yeah, and this shit goes down and it’s terrible. People have actually sent death threats to the children of some of the bloggers. Anonymously, of course. But that’s scary.”

Scully looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. “It is. But since when did you get a Tumblr account, Mulder?”

“And who’s the real victim here, Scully? The celebrities, the bloggers who are being harassed, their children who don’t even know about the shitstorm, the rest of us watching it going down consumed by second-hand anxiety about people we don’t even really know?”

“You’re always on the side of the victim, Mulder, but this isn’t real life.”

“It’s somebody’s real life. It’s the real life of the mother whose child’s life was threatened.”

She sighed. “I know. It’s terrible. But when did you get a Tumblr account?”

“I set it up a while ago. I don’t have many followers but I like to see what’s going on so I look at my feed and go onto some of my favorite sites.”

She looked at him, tucking her chin to her chest. “What’s your blog called?”

“But Aliens.”

“Butt Aliens?”

He looked hurt. “You’re saying it wrong, Scully. But Aliens. It’s a blog about other the possibilities of life forms, space travel, conspiracies, UFO sightings. I just need more followers, you know?”

“I can imagine.”

“You sound a bit judgy, Scully.”

“No, I just don’t see what you’re trying to prove by being on a social media site like that.”

He climbed on top of her, pulled off her gown and grinned. “Right now, I’m trying to prove to you that people on the internet are crazy, and I think I’ve just about covered off on that. And next up I am about to prove that I’m also crazy in love with you. So, if you’ll just stop that brain of yours from disapproving of my downtime habits and let me proceed, I think you’ll find that my case is sound beyond a reasonable doubt.”

“There are some downtime habits of yours that I do approve of, Mulder.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, then pushed it down to her chest. He obliged and took a nipple between his teeth, enjoying her sharp hiss. He took his time, working her up to a crescendo of moans before trailing his tongue down her belly and finding the right spot with the sort of precision borne out of years of practice.


The morning sun cast a silvery shadow across their room. He breathed in the musky smell of their night’s pleasure and he picked up his phone.

           “Whoa, Scully! I’ve picked up lots more followers overnight.”

           She turned over and grumbled. “Don’t tell me you posted a photo of us together with the caption ‘Sculder confirmed.’?”

           He grinned into the side of her neck. “No, weird porn wins the internet again. I changed the name of my blog to Butt Aliens.”

5 Years- Blacknut

Before story starts, I’m hopping this could be a series so let’s give some background info (this is a complete mess btw). You are a famous musician, you’ve been in the music industry for 11 years, debuted under YG in 2006. Left YG in 2012, under good terms, and signed under Just Music. You meet Blacknut in 2011, and have been dating ever since. And you don’t necessarily tell others of the relationship, you thought they’d figure out themselves, but they never have, 5 years passed and still no one knows. You have made friends with plenty other artist over the years, and feature in many music videos and songs because your talented and beautiful. Blacknut doesn’t really appreciate all the love other male artist give you, as you’re the one he’s dating… Anyways, I don’t want to say anymore to ruin anything. 

The both of you were siting in your studio working on a song, and you started day dreaming.

“Hahahahaha,” you laughed out loud.

“What? Did you think of a funny meme again?” He said, confused.

“No, no, I just think it’s so funny that we’ve been together for around 5 years now, and no one knows. Well no one has confronted us. It’s not like our relationship is a deep dark secret, we make it obvious some days, right?” You constantly thought about this a lot, how come no one knows.

“Somedays, yeah. I mean we come out of mine or your studio looking like a mess. That pretty much screams that we’re together, I think.” He replied. “It’s definitely because of all those music videos, you’re in with other rappers. People probably think you’re a whore.” He said jokingly.

“Fuck you, people think you’re a virgin. At least, it looks like I’m getting it in with successful people.” You barked back.

“Well you know the truth, and you were my first and I was your first. Sadly, I’m stuck with you for the rest of my life.” Daewoong replies sarcastically.

“Yeah, it must be really hard for you as I’m the one the brings in 99.99% of our income. Oh, and how much it must suck dating such a distinguished artist. What a horrible life you live, dating a celebrity that has made so much money in the past 11 years that you could never earn in your life.”

This was a normal conversation between you and Daewoong, to anyone else it’d seem like fighting. Sure, you sometimes hurt his feelings but he knows how to egg on a person, that’s probably why he is really good at dissing.

“Oh, I have a good idea!” You said excitedly.

“Is it getting back to the song?” He said.

"No, not that. We can do that another day. We should post pictures with each other. The privacy was great for these past 5 years, but I want to see how the public reacts to us. We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You proposed this idea, that you knew wouldn’t get the most positive response.

“I like this idea of yours, but like do I have to post appropriate photos? If yes, then we must keep this relationship a secret till death.” Daewoong replied.

“Show me the photos before you post, deal? I’ll post some throughout each year, and you can post whatever you want as long as you have my approval.” You compromised.

“I’m older than you, I should be able to post what I want. But, I guess since it’s your idea I will respect it.”  He said pretending to be defeated.

“No, next…”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“God no.”

“You gotta be kidding me, no. Is there anything appropriate?”

2 hours passed.

“Please just chose one, do you really care if they are inappropriate?” He pleaded.

“All your photos of me, are fucking nudes.” You were impatient as well.

“Well, it’s not like people don’t want to see your nudes. If you want me to blur out the bad parts, I will.”

“That won’t make it any better, idiot.” You kept on scrolling through his phone.

You finally came across a photo you really liked, this is probably the only appropriate photo you’ve came across so far. The photo made you happy, it was a mirror picture of the both of you on Valentine’s Day last year. You were wearing a red flowly strapless dress, he was dressed nicely kind of like a waiter, but he looked handsome.

“This one.” You said.

“Finally,” he said. “Cute. Does the caption have to be appropriate too? Can the caption be ‘Fucked her every Valentine’s Day for the past 5 years.’” Daewoong replied, and you glared at him.

You lightly punched his shoulder, "No, pervert. Caption it the date it was taken. You better do that with every photo you post, if I see any inappropriate caption, I swear I will end you.”

“I think you can trust me with the photo selection now, I don’t want to be sitting here for another century. No full out nudes and only dates as captions.” And with that said you gave him your trust, and left your studio.

You picked out photos from each anniversary together, and you posted the first photo you ever took together. To not be such a prude, you posted a photo of him kissing your neck. Without a doubt you had to be cautious of younger fans it was inevitable, even Daewoong had younger fans, but he didn’t have boundaries unlike you. So checking what he posted didn’t make you the happiest person, but you expected it. He posted a photo of you two in the shower with makeup pouring down your face, and captioned it as ‘she is so beautiful!’ Another photo was his hand palming your ass with the caption as '5 fingers, 5 years. Love you! ❤’ He didn’t follow your orders, and at this point you didn’t bother stopping him. In a matter of seconds posting your photos your social media blew up, as well as your text messages.

Daewoong came running out of the studio to the hangout area laughing, “Didn’t listen to your rules, because why the hell would I. You gotta look at what people are saying. A lot are confused, some are offended, and others really like the photos I posted of you.” He took a seat next to you on the couch and you read the comments together on your post, it truly shocked people. After a couple of minutes, the all of the JM crew except Swings showed up in front of you in shock. They looked down at the both of you, but no one spoke, so you and Daewoong just went back reading comments.

“Um, excuse me. Have you guys really been together that long?” Giriboy spoke up.

“Yeah, none of you caught on so we just kept it to ourselves for the most part.” You replied.

“Good for you, Daewoong. I don’t want to offend you are anything, but I find it amazing, how did you possibly get with Y/N. Please tell me the story when you have the time. Anyways, congratulations to you guys for staying together for so long.” Vasco said with a smile on his face, he was seriously so proud of Daewoong that it surprised you.

“Thank y-” Daewoong was cut off by Cjamm.

“No, don’t congratulate them, do you realize how much press this is going to get? Swings is going to be so pissed, especially at you Daewoong. All of the photos you posted are so inappropriate. Y/N, you have the biggest following in Korea, just imagine the amount of criticism you will receive online. You guys just fed the media a weeks worth of food, and our PR team is going to be pilled in shit.”

“We liked the photos.” Nochang and Vasco said in synch.  

“Because your fucking pervs.” Sungmin replied angrily.

“Excuse me that is not how you speak to your elders, young man. You can’t even deny you don’t like those photos, you talk about Y/N everyday.” Vasco scolded Sungmin.

“Shut up. That doesn’t make it right.” Sungmin said defeated and embarrassed.

“You’re just jealous its not you in those photos.” Vasco replied further embarrassing him.

“Sungmin, don’t stress. I know that Daewoong’s post are extremely inappropriate, and I told him to post the opposite. But, if you compare those photos to let’s say music videos or photo shoots I’ve been in, they’re equally the same. I’m well aware there is a huge difference between the two, but too late to delete them now, when there are plenty of screenshots. The worse that will come out of this is hate. I’m gonna lose fans, but I will also gain fans. When Swings comes back later, I will deal with him myself, it was my idea.” You said reassuring the group of men. “Now I will be in Swings office waiting for him, please go on with your day.”

There will definitely be a pt. 2, and I apologize if there’re any mistakes, grammar wise. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy, I haven’t made a scenario in a while, but I will try my best to make them more often. I also apologize for how short this is.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Show Recap – Sunday May 21st

Note: This recap was written over several days, so please forgive the bizarre and inconsistent references to time.


What a bizarre, indescribable day. I think this is going to be more a recap of emotions (as I try to figure them out), but of course the cast gave us some beautiful and incredible moments too. I’ll do my best to talk about everything I can, but as I say, it was a little indescribable, and I’m still not sure how I feel.

Keep reading

20 Questions with Dr Ferox #12

I am beyond tired folks, struggling to set by body clock back after a night shift again. It’s a peculiar mix of grunge and headache without having done anything super fun to deserve it, so my apologies if I’m a little slow on the uptake.

But here I have 20 more questions and comments you’ve sent me, so lets get into them. I have tried to tag the question askers, but if you asked on Anon then you’ll have to look through yourself to see if you’ve been answered yet.

Anonymous said: How is Lucifer doing? Are you still seeing him? I checked the archives, but I didn’t see any updates past a point and I was curious about the bunbun.

Keep reading

hey, you guys. i know it’s been a minute since i came on here, and i feel terrible about that, but i hope your year has at least been manageable, and hopefully even fun. i’m thinking of you.

i took a few months off at the beginning of this year, which was so great - i did a bunch of swimming and driving around and being salty - and now i’m just getting into making the next body of work, which is very exciting and scary but SO VALIDATING (i also went to a wild beautiful fashawwn ball last night which maybe i’ll elaborate on in another post).

the other day i was in the studio with some new friends, and i asked them which one song they would send into space, to live on forever, if they had to. one said ‘perfect day’ by lou reed (a song which i heard when i was thirteen in passing somewhere, then went home and sat in front of my family’s desktop computer listening to, and cried my eyes out) and someone else said ‘god only knows’ by the beach boys, also in my top 5, so complex and kind of bittersweet and happy, also a good choice. and i thought about it for a while, thought about talking heads and fleetwood mac and nina simone, but the song that came out of my mouth was ‘dancing on my own’ by robyn. this song, to me, is perfect. it’s happy and sad, fiery and independent but vulnerable and small, joyous even when a heart is breaking. every line is perfect, how that second verse (“stilettos and broken bottles / i’m spinning around in circles”) stumbles perfectly into that bridge (”the lights go on, the music dies / …i just came to say goodbye”), and final chorus. it’s just perfect. we put it on right there in the studio, and i was up out of my seat dancing with my eyes screwed shut, and my hands up around my ears, and we looked into each other’s eyes and sang the words, and i could feel something hot and teary in the back of my throat just from FEELING so much at once. and i think it was then when i realized i’m going to be in love with music for the rest of my life. it’s going to be the most important friendship i’ll ever have. i’ll never, ever leave it alone, because you can’t leave alone something like that, something that makes you weep alone on aeroplanes or jolts you out of a chair and shatters your face with a big toothy smile. i think that’s a cool, intense revelation to have, going into your second record. first records are like meeting someone and feeling that need to do everything, just in case for whatever reason, you run out of time, or they stop feeling the same way as you. i feel much calmer, more comfortable in my love of doing this, and its apparent love of me, this time around. so there’s that.  

the main reason i was inspired to write to you today came from googling a picture of britney taken by david lachapelle, and stumbling across this website called one week // one band. they had this incredibly thoughtful collection of quotes and ideas regarding this photo. out of morbid curiosity, i typed in my own name to have a look at what people were saying. and you guys, i have been sitting here for almost an hour fluttering my hand against my chest and making these tiny high-pitched sounds, because how i was written about, how pure heroine was written about, was remarkable in its attention to detail and flow in these songs. i make music for you guys, as you know, and to read these interpretations of the songs that were so nuanced and so much smarter than anything i’d read from an adult journalist (i believe the author of these wonderful pieces is a touch younger than me) was so inspiring for me. these pieces of writing are like a map to this record, and this (dare i say it bleugh) era. they should be packaged with my record, for goodness’ sake. they’re brilliant. you can find the author, sophia, at http://nyogu.tumblr.com/, and the pieces on my work at http://oneweekoneband.tumblr.com/tagged/lorde/chrono

and i guess that’s it for now. sending so much love to you all. thank you for loving and living inside my music. know that i’m taking my time to make the new stuff as good as i can. know that music is still making my heart skip every day. can’t wait to hang out soon. love you. xxx L

A CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER OF THE PAST FEW DAYS

#UPDATED

So this is my first post. I’ve made this to kind of help you, and myself too actually, to keep up with everything that’s happened in the past few days, because since the RBB&SBB bears are gone, everything has become a mess pretty much.
*I want to inform you that I’m from Greece which means there’s a 10-hour time difference from here to LA, so when it is Monday morning here it is still Sunday in LA, so I’m sorry if I mess up any dates.
That’s also the language in some of the screenshots, if you were wondering.*


So this is a timeline of what has happened in the past few days (feel free to tell me if I’ve missed anything or if I’m wrong):
-12/2: The RBB & SBB account is deactivated.
-After that, on the same day, on Snapchat the RBB&SBB post these:



-A Spotify playlist called “Deleted.” is created by an account named “he.styles94″, believed to be Harry Styles. The playlist is deleted after a while.



-14/2: While the AIMH tweet is about to reach 2M rts on Valentine’s Day, a twitter account named “Dusty Styles” which is thought to have been created by Harry Styles in 2010 about his cat but has remained inactive since 2011, is active again, doing a countdown till the time AIMH reaches 2M rts.




-When it reaches 2M rts, the account retweets it as well, and posts “Two milli, two milli, two milli”.


-After a few hours, the account unfollows all the accounts he followed: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson & Ted Tomlinson (an account inactive since 2013 about Louis’ dog which is believed to have been created by Louis himself).
It also unfaves all its faved tweets: the AIMH tweet and one of Ted’s tweets.
Plus, it deletes the countdown to 2M rts and the retweeted AIMH.



-Later on the same day, the account posts “VIII” which is the Roman number for eight.


-4 hours after that, it posts “Party party.” while Harry is at a Pre-Grammy party in LA.


-Harry is at the Clive Davis & The Recording Academy’s 2016 Pre-Grammy Gala in Beverly Hills.




-Louis is at the Primary Wave Grammys Party event.



-2 hours later, it posts “VII” which is the Roman number for seven, so it is possible that the account is doing a countdown for something, though what it is unknown, and also we don’t know if it’s talking about days, weeks, months or whatever.


The “VIII” and “VII” tweets are faved by the account.



-The RBB&SBB post “Love always wins.” and “2 more weeks.” on their Snapchat story.




-15/2: The Spotify account “he.styles94″ apparently reposts the “Deleted.” playlist, with the exact same songs as before, except one called “I’m coming out” by Diana Ross.


The account also listens to various songs from its playlists throughout the day, some of them being “When we were young” by Adele, “Look after you” by The Fray and “Uncover” by Zara Larsson.


-Harry apparently took a soul cycle class this morning.

-Louis attends the GQxTheWeeknd Grammys Party in Beverly Hills tonight! 


-Dusty posts this on twitter and deletes it whithin an hour.



-Four hours after the previous tweet is deleted, Dusty posts “Meow meow meow meow” on Twitter and retweets about 35 tweets writing “VII”. After a while the “meow” tweet is deleted as well.


-A few hours later Dusty posts “VI” which is the Roman number for six, continuing the countdown which appears to be counting days, though it is still not known what will happen when the countdown is over.

Dusty also follows Ted Tomlinson again.


-These are posted on the RBB Snapchat Story as well:



-16/2: he.styles94 is last active on Spotify about 3 hours after the “VI” tweet, last listened to “Don’t wait” by Joey Graceffa.

-Louis posts “Hiccups” on Twitter and the photo from last night’s party on IG.





~Thanks for reading! Feel free to message me about anything. xx

The Assignment

      Room 612 was cursed it had to be Arthur could think of no other explanation why his superior’s office with the best intentions manage to become steadily dreadful every time he step foot init. It was untidy, stacks of papers took the place of where people should, majority of the floor space, on his boss’s chair, the neon green chesterfield sofa, which was a blessing because it was most uncomfortable. Tea cups and new paper clippings had conquered the mahogany desk. Each wall donned various hideous post modern paintings that pulse or spun endlessly making even casual on lookers dizzy.



Arthur was marveling at the newest addition of wall to wall windows behind Mr. Hutchinson’s work space. Someone clearly thought that it was too hard to see at the dirty mismanaged brick back of the local muggle halfway house with the previous two uneven windows that inhabited a year earlier. When Mr. Abdul large heavy set man dress in blue robes busted in. A assortment of enchanted colored files trailing behind while permission slips and formal requests buzzes about like a swarming files being sign and initial by a bewitched quill he parted the the chaos with his free hand to better see his subordinate . “Ah! Mr. Kirkland! Your here already? I thought we wouldn’t be seeing you for at least another day or two. How was your trip?”

“Chilly and wet It’s been ages since I’ve traveled this far by broom I forgot how cold flying can be and how brutal English winters are. ”

Mr. Abdul eyed Arthur’s wardrobe a ratty decade out of fashion dark blue green robe litter with moth holes matched of with a proper witch’s hat in the same condition. “Well of course good grief man where’s your coat?”

“I don’t have one I chucked mine years ago didn’t have much use for it. Thankfully I’d saved this or I would of freeze in my thobe.”

“Ah well you better invest in a proper one it’s cold in New York.”

“New York? I thought you wanted to see me about the Manzar case because I just would like to say Monhobi was compromised and we where given bad intelligence by those blokes in foreign affairs-”

Abdul put up a hand to stop him. “I know Thomas’s report made crystal clear. All in all we where quite impress on how you where able to handle that disaster. So impressed that we think you would be a splendid fit for your new assignment in New York.”

“What is it?”

“How much British news are you able to get in Aub Dubai?”

The change in subject threw Arthur “Not much I can’t spare my owls to spending a day or more having it fly all the way to England and back just for the paper.”

“I figured as much well long story short the Magical Congress has a right mess on their hands by this fellow here” Mr. Abdul snatched a red file from the parade behind him and presented it’s contents. 

Arthur gaped at the head shot, He knew the man in the photograph he hadn’t changed much from their last encounter. Same short blonde haircut, square glasses, near prefect teeth the only real difference was that he had traded the reminding of his baby fat for laugh lines. They where highlighted as the photo looped his smile. Arthur fumed internally at the fact that he was still handsome.

Abdul began explaining “This is Alfred Jones, age  28, Muggle born, leader of both Wizarding Awareness and the Magic Rights movement. Two campaigns that are hell bent on exposing our world to Muggles and integrate the two. For years Mr. Jones has been a manageable nuisance but over the last few months he’s tripled his number in supporters. Over half of them wizards and witches themselves. Public displays of witchcraft are becoming rampant. Frighten ignorant Muggles are terrorizing the magic population. Muggles are occupying once wizard only spaces upsetting the locals It’s gotten to a tipping point, that the Magical Congress has ask the Ministry for assistance.”

“So your outsourcing me to the yanks to help with damage control.”

“Yes but your task isn’t damage control its to nip it at its source we want you to complete a full sweep on Mr.Jones.”

Arthur was puzzled “A sweep sir? This man clearly needs to be locked up you need a Auror not a Obliviator .”

“Would love to but we can’t Mr. Jones hasn’t actually broken any laws.”

“What? But you just said that-”

“Mr. Jones isn’t the one doing any magic, his supporters are. Can’t really he had his wand destroyed some time in his teens. All he does is talk, protest, march, and raise awareness of the magical community.”

“That still breeches the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.”

“True but the secrecy is a international law and we know how difficult that is to enforce. Americans have freedom of speech as a fundamental right and it would greatly harm national relations of our two countries at the mere hint of censorship. Not to mention that there’s a heated debate within Congress about if Mr. Jones can be even be classified as a citizen of the wizarding sovereign which has open the a flood gates about magical citizenship. Mr. Jones is such a high profile case now that if we to act unjustly it very likely he’ll become a martyr for the cause enraging and strengthening his base.”

Arthur felt slightly overwhelmed himself and he wasn’t even part of the congress “That is quite the mess.”

“But! he is a threat if not the threat of exposure to the wizarding world and dealing with such threats is a Obliviator job, your job. So get some rest buy a cozy coat and arrive at this address by Thursday morning. All the details you need are in here.” He handed over the red file to him "Make us proud Kirkland!“ And Arthur was promptly shooed out of his office.

——-Author Note——-

I was in the mood do some writing this week I decide too so mess around with HP AU. I don’t know if I will continue writing takes me forever and a half (it’s embarrassing how long I spent on this tiny piece) 

Also I’m sure the grammar sucks and there are all kinds of errors. I don’t have a beta nor really wanted to bother with one I just wanted to write.

Story time. Involves a sugar baby, a love story in Paris, making an idiot of myself, and one year that aged me fifty

I was studying in France earlier this year and while living across the world, my life in the States was falling apart. I was spending too much money, eating raw pasta and cans of spam in bed while watching Netflix and crying because I was lonely, and French people were very harsh with me. I had taken courses in French at this university, studied endlessly beforehand- translating movie scripts at my work study job, endless French films, podcasts, and when I arrived the cold French exteriors strangers had was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I felt lonely, socially incapable, and could only communicate at the level of a child. People would say disparaging things about my body, or hold me responsible for Donald Trump, or tell me not to speak French at all. Strangers and acquaintances alike showed no empathy as a lugged enormous suitcases up stairs, or asked questions about where classes were, or for directions to complete student insurance. My only friends were English speakers who got on with these things much better than me (one was from French Canada, an Australian had already settled in the previous semester), but I would get drunk in my tiny room alone quite a bit. I’m used to being seen as intelligent and sociable, and this semester shook me to my core. At home, my mother would eventually be arrested and I grew more depressed as I stayed in touch with them. One guy I slept with posted my nudes on the internet. Another invited me to a gala, where I looked beautiful, and didn’t speak to me at all. Another ruined great sex by immediately telling everyone and confirmed my identity as the American slut. I got blackout drunk on a university trip and hooked up with a Brazilian girl in a French boarding school that had been rented, excused myself, spent the rest of the night vomiting in nothing but a pair of overalls, repeatedly hitting the button that activated the shower for thirty seconds. I had no memory of any of this.

But I learned to do things alone. I grew. I forced myself into conversations and realized I didn’t care about looking like an idiot. It still stung.

The academic year finished. I had failed half of my classes because I couldn’t bring myself to go. It was over, and now I would just travel. I went to Italy, Spain, the south of France, Austria, all over. I met with my sister. She can be pretty cruel, always removed because when my mom was arrested, it was for assault after accusing my sister of fucking my father. She’s colder than me though, saying things like how I would look heavier if I didn’t have my chest. “You want to prove you’ve grown and can handle yourself in Europe, that you’re different,” she said after I misread a German train stop, and we were stuck overnight in a station. “You’re exactly the same”.

But before my trip, something incredible happened. I posted on a web site, hoping some kind stranger in Paris would hold a bag of clothes during my travels before I returned home. I put attractive photos up, sifted through dozens of responses, chose one that looked stable. Normal. Booked a bus to Paris. On the way there, someone else messaged me. He looked really kind. He had travelled all across South Asia and sailed across the Atlantic. I told the other guy something had come up, and followed through with- let’s call him Q. We met up at a metro station. I bought him a gift- two books, the Garden of Eden by Hemingway in French, or a blank notebook. “Only an American would buy Hemingway in French,” he laughed, and took the notebook.

He explained that he constantly hosted people for free, and gave bike tours of the city without charge just to meet people. He was the least French person I’ve ever met. I thought that was fantastic.

I originally asked for him to harbor an enormous backpack, but instead of troubling him, I left a small duffel bag. I didn’t want to inconvenience him, since he had also offered to let me stay the night. I would carry an extra thirty pounds around for a month because of this- rainboots and sweaters while I sweated in June in Venice.

We had met at a subway station, he took my gift, we biked around the city and bought ingredients for a salmon tart. I was utterly charmed. I used a city bike, and in between drop off stations, he would let me sit on his handlebars and pedal like a maniac. I gripped his arms tightly as he swerved to avoid cars and pedestrians alike, and we zipped down the Champs-Élysées and spoke in French and English. He gently corrected my mistakes, and mercifully let me feel intelligent for a few moments. We cooked dinner together, laughed about French science shows for children, talked about the best techniques for driving in the snow (he grew up in the mountains), and killed a bottle of wine.

The night reached its end and I readied myself to stay on his futon. Q looked from beyond his door and asked if I was coming into his room. He saw my confusion and explained that he had a better mattress to set up on his floor- or, if I preferred, I was welcome to exactly half of his bed. I’m not sure whether it was the way he always looked as though he was smirking, or whether his arms felt nice as he cycled through the city, but I opted for his bed. It seemed like hours chatting, barely touching, then overtly shifting bodies, then fingers brushed my hair out of my face and we were doing exactly what you might guess. He was so careful and gentle. He traced his fingers around my ears and gave half second massages to my feet. He didn’t last very long, but somehow it was a relief. He didn’t do this for hookups. He was just that kind of person. He told me the next day it had been a long time since he had done that sort of thing, dressed up professionally for his work as an engineer while I tried to desmudge my makeup and make my way back to a bus stop.

He said goodbye at the metro station, we did la bise kissing each other on the cheeks, and he was gone. We would see each other in a month when I had to pick up my bag and return home.

I spent the whole time thinking of him. We talked just before time was up- he messaged me on my birthday. I was so excited. I was in Venice and a bunch of Moldovans had bought me champagne while my sister and I sat on the beach. A friendly guy brought me his jacket as I came out of the water, draped it over my shoulders, and flirted a little, but all that was on my mind was him.

It’s your birthday? He said. That changes everything for the menu. When I came back he baked me a birthday cake with courgettes- zucchinis. It was strangely delicious. The first day we walked around in circles, talking about nothing in particular around the city. Old movies and why I hate sudoku puzzles, reasons why he doesn’t care about football. We spent quality time together in his room. Tu m'excites, he said while fucking me. You turn me on. Bouge pas. Lache-toi la. The next day we travelled to the illicit section of the Parisian catacombs. If you see the police, he warned, run, they do give out fines. People aren’t supposed to be here. I sat on his handlebars and we biked to an abandoned train station after slipping through a construction zone, slipped into a hole that looked like an animal might live in it, and sloshed around in water up to our thighs. It looked like tunnels from Lord of the Rings. He had a headlight and a hand-drawn map. We looked at the graffiti and ate dumplings, and we turned off all the lights so everything was silent and completely dark. While biking back, he laughed. You weren’t scared at all, he said, impressed. A lot of people would yell at me, or lose their minds. You were okay just sitting there and enjoying the quiet. I had been totally out of my element, but I smiled. We zipped by a group of fancy looking Parisians outside of a gallery and made loud beeping noises to rile them. That was perfect, he said of my particular noisy exclamation.

That night we went home and fucked in the kitchen. It was great. On top of laundry. Near his saxophone. Standing up. By his friend’s futon. Afterward, Q stood up and looked outside the window, flashing some neighbors who rolled their shades down, ruffled. We laughed. I went home to my own (superfluous) Airbnb that night but almost got locked in the metro while switching stations, and in doing so lost my keys. My phone was dead, but by some miracle a neighbor let me in the apartment at 1:00 and the door of the place upstairs was unlocked. I crashed to bed. The next morning I was determined to find my keys. I didn’t and was locked in. I had literally tied my clothes together to hop down into a courtyard when my host arrived. I would have to pay 200 euros for a new key (Parisian apartments must have the highest security) but I didn’t care. I saw Q again that night. We fucked twice and despite his work in the morning, we stayed up nearly all night. We talked about staying in contact, and I told him he was the type of person I would want to be with. That’s crazy, he said. You’ve known me for two days. But I feel the same way.

I left Paris. I went back to my home. I got two sugar daddies and a sugar mommy, worked two jobs and took nineteen credits. I used a fake name and number and hid gifts from my family like iPhone 7s. I had threeways and went on shopping sprees. I saved up money, stayed in touch with Q and made up a story about a conference in Paris in January. I planned a trip back. He told me he missed my curls, and me as well. I bought a quarter pound of weed at a time and sold it. I found another boy to bide my time with. He was boring but pretty, and I craved sex as an escape. I hooked up with my ex. We’re good friends, he’s trapped by a family situation, and has only ever fucked me, but he talks down to me in Russian and I like it when he slaps me in the face during sex.

The semester dragged on as my family issues worsened and I studied our elections, ISIS and Syria endlessly. I was so depressed. I gave into old addictions on and off but kept it together. My mother didn’t, but it’s okay.

I’m in Europe now. Meeting up with Q again was one of the greatest disappointments of my life.

I thought I deserved a last hoorah, that whatever powers that be would pity me and start off the fabled 2017 with a cathartic sexual release. He was moving to the Ivory Coast to digitize government files the day before I left Paris. I booked a private Airbnb for three days, since he didn’t have an apartment at the beginning of the month I told him he could stay there, he seemed to accept, asking if it was private, telling me he would reserve the weekend for me. He didn’t. We saw each other only one afternoon. The problem was, I thought I could manipulate him into liking me just the same as one of the people who paid me for my time. It didn’t work. I think I’ve grown too steely and bitter. He like the girl that got so lost trying to find his apartment, she took the metro outside of Paris. He didn’t like the sophisticated me with better clothes and expensive makeup and a slick place to crash. We got lunch together, ate galette de rois together which I couldn’t finish, so I fed it to a crow. He got the lucky feve that you find in only a few slices, a little tchotchke baked into the cake. A French policewoman yelled at me. We walked quietly through museums. We drove through the city in his company car- like a maniac, yet again. Sometimes he would wander off into a completely different room within exhibits. It was pleasant enough, but it was clear he was distracted. He said goodbye to me at a metro stop. I didn’t understand it was the last time I’d see him. I sent a Facebook message telling him I understood his position but that he was welcome to stop by my apartment. He saw the message and didn’t reply the whole night. I cried, put on a face mask and sexted my ex alone. I told my friends we had wild sex and that I’d never have a romance like this one again. I don’t know where I’m going from here. Don’t trust people, I suppose, prioritize yourself, and know when not to push a good thing too far.

I feel so bitter. I’m lucky, young, intelligent, and sitting in beautiful Lisbon as I type this up, but I don’t feel as though I’ll find something like this again. I have men who will Paypal me if I need anything and offer to fly me all over the world. They have pictures with famous hockey players and the Tampa Buccaneers cheerleaders. I don’t care. I’ll go back to my ex, maybe, to avoid the sting of being really alone. He understands me pretty well, even though it’s more of a friendship. This is going to fuck me up so badly, he says, as I ask more and more intense sexual frontiers to be pushed. I’ve thought of that. I care a little, but I need it right now.

Everything here is true. I wish it wasn’t. Wish me luck.

About Time // Part 3

| Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 |

Type/Genre: Angst, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au, Soulmate!au)

Word count: 8,421

Prompts: “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

Summary: Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

a/n: I’m so sorry for taking so long to post this. I hope I can update the next part as soon as I can. Thank you for reading^^

Originally posted by won-der-land89


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Kandreil Goes to the Con, Part 1

[This is very self-indulgent continuation of a drabble I wrote back in November 2016 about an exy anime . Basically I really love the idea of Kevin being a closet otaku! I’ve been to 12 anime cons to date so what follows is largely based on my own con experiences.]

It’s all Kevin’s fault. He has been bugging Andrew and Neil about the anime con for months, determined to finally go now that he doesn’t have to worry about the Moriyamas coming after him. The campaign started when Kevin told them that there was an anime about exy that was slotted to premiere during the summer and in preparation for its release Kevin had been introducing them to other sports anime. Neil likes watching and he likes arguing with Kevin about it, but he doesn’t consider himself a part of the fandom. Andrew feigns disinterest but he’s actually more than a little invested in some of the characters.

Now they have an entire weekend to themselves and Neil just wants to unwind at the Columbia house but Kevin pulls a coup and announces that he has already bought weekend passes for the three of them and booked a room at the con hotel. Neil is furious, mostly because Kevin went behind their backs. Andrew isn’t keen on the crowds of hyper teenagers but there’s no way he’s letting Kevin go off on his own. In the end they all go.

The con is madness. There are cosplayers EVERYWHERE. Kevin is losing his shit, asking every other person to pose with him in a photo. Andrew ends up holding all of his bags while Neil takes the pictures. It is so loud, so lively, and they are only in the hotel lobby. Groups of regular hotel guests weave their way through the con attendees, baffled and amused looks on their faces.

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Live life golden Part 5

Jungkook x reader

Warnings: strong language

Words:2219

{ Previous } { next }

Summary:

He was a graduate of the elite class, inherited billions from his father, and lived the life of an international playboy. (y/n) came into his life and made him question it all.

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Professional Revenge: When Patience, Timing, and Planning meet with Perfect Opportunity

(warning: long story)

There is a bit of long background, but it’s all pertinent. My boss was the usual middle management guy (Let’s call him MMG) in an old contracting job. Tightly wound, entirely focused on his subordinates’ mistakes while trying to flatter upper management. I was under him and while most of the office feared him, I was less than enthused with his leadership. MMG would often make us complete several versions of the same product just in case management did not like the original product. No one ever saw these ghost product versions, except once when he took a part of one and passed it off as his own work. Added to the fact that he provided zero encouragement and had the humor of a block of wood. Yet when upper management was around, he was a completely different person. Fawning and gregarious, he would assume a false rapport with the staff. When upper management left, he couldn’t care less. While we didn’t hate him, we did greatly dislike him. One instance made me want revenge. I strongly argued against a untenable product feature that MMG just “dreamed up.” MMG argued equally strongly for it. It was more heated than I usually get. When upper management deep-sixed the feature, MMG blamed the team for it and actually called me in to say that “I should have been more clear in my objections.” And he was a bit of a screamer. I was angry, but…I’m not a gotta get revenge guy. So I bided my time and hoped an opportunity would arise.

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LuLu || Luke Hemmings

hehe, this should be fun

I M A G I N E 

“You’re going to love my brothers!” Luke begins to muse as you guys were in a car, riding to Luke’s house. The boys had a weekend off the tour, which was always put to going back to Sydney to see their families. And so, being Luke’s girlfriend, you were going to stay with Luke and his family for the next 3 days. So he’s been gushing on and on over how hilarious his brothers are. 

“You brothers seem pretty peachy,” you say, giving Luke a sincere smile. He nods vigorously before anxiously looking out the window. Giggling at his excitement, you see the other boys also a bit jumpy. Its quite overwhelming to see your family after so many months, so its understandable that they’re all excited. 

“This is us! Yes!” Luke cheers 20 minutes later when we approach a house. The car stops, having Luke practically throw himself out. You say goodbye to the boys and the management for the both of you before grabbing you and Luke’s things, exiting the car, and trailing after Luke. You slowly go up the porch as Luke giddily knocks on the door. 

“Oh god, I haven’t seen Ben and Jack in ages, Y/N!” Luke whispers in excitement before his door is opened and was introduced to a tall, fairly old, man. Luke rushed up and hugged him, getting a hug back from the man. You shyly stand there, unsure as to what to do or really say. Luke breaks the embrace and shoves you right in front of the mysterious man. “Dad, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. The one who has been on tour with us for months. Y/N, this is my dad.”

“Ah, this is Y/N!” The old man says, opening his arms for an embrace. You go to hug him, feeling somewhat awkward but accepted in the embrace. “You are much prettier than that Arzaylea girl everyone pins with my son, haha!” 

“Thank you so much, Mr. Hemmings,” you say with a blush. Luke grabbed your shoulder and squeezed it, seeming very happy that his father approved of you. 

“Please, Y/N, you can call me Andrew,” Mr. Hemmings, or rather Andrew, urged, making you nod and smile. He then turns around to look into the house and places his hand by his mouth. “Ben, Jack! Your brother is home with his girlfriend! Come say hello!”

“Wait, LuLu is home?” One of the boys chirped from the top of the staircase. Another boy popped up next to him, giving Luke a devilish smirk. “You hear that, Jack? LuLu is home!”

“LuLu! It’s been so long, little brother!” The other boy cheers, the two very tall brothers. You watched as the two grown blondes rush to Luke and shove him in a sandwich hug. “We missed you, LuLu! How’s the tour been?” The one who seems to be the oldest cheered. 

“You guys are seriously calling me that in front of my girlfriend?” Luke asked in irritation, blushing like a mad man in the embrace. The two boys snap their heads towards you and you blush. You weren’t sure how to react, since this was the first time meeting the rest of the family after Liz. “Y/N, these are my brothers, J–”

“I’m Jack,” the younger one with messy blonde hair says as he lets go of Luke. He offers his hand and you give him yours, receiving a kiss on the top of it. You blushed as Jack looked up and winked. “My my, aren’t you a lovely creature. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

“How did our little brother manage to get someone lovely like yourself?” The older brother asked, chuckling a bit as he let go of Luke. He offers his hand, and although you were hesitant, you took his hand and received a firm shake. “I’m Ben, the oldest of them. And can I say that you are very beautiful?”

“And you’re gonna flirt with my girlfriend as you guys embarrass me in front of her?” Luke exclaims, squeezing through between the two and showing up beside you. He firmly grabs your waist with his hand extended fully. You blushed at the sudden, yet familiar, gesture. “I’m a rockstar who just got back from a tour for a temporary vacation.”

“So?” Jack said as he rolled his eyes. “You’re still our little LuLu! Have you seen any baby pictures of Lucas, Y/N?”

“No, actually, I haven’t,” you say, smirking at Jack.

“Oh god please don’t–” Luke moans but his father interrupts. 

“He had the cutest little face, Y/N,” Andrew comes around with a baby album, making you giggle a bit. As they flip through pages, they point out all of Lukes photos. And you guys were still in the front porch, too. 

“LuLu was such a cute baby, Y/N,” Ben commented as Luke slapped his forehead with his hand. “He had this soft, cute little butt that was just–”

“Ben, please stop!” Luke groaned but you were ecstatic. “I’m just trying to have a nice family time back with my girlfriend. You guys are sort of ruining it…” He begins to pout, making it the queue for the other boys to leave. You close the front door and stay outside with Luke, smiling up at his hung head and sad face.

“Hey,” you whisper, smiling at your boyfriend lovingly. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I think your baby pictures and nickname are very cute.” You tell him as you give him a light peck on his lips. 

“Babe, it’s so awkward,” Luke sighs, shaking his head while giving you a dumb smile. “Plus, I’m not LuLu! I’m Luke Hemmings, punkrocker with a want for a flower crown.”

“Well, how about this,” you began, smiling at those blue eyes of his. “We’ll only be here for two days so tomorrow, we can go get metal wires and tape, right? We’ll pick some flowers and make those flower crowns. How does that sound, LuLu?”

“Amazing,” Luke says as he plants another kiss on your lips. “The way you say LuLu isn’t that bad, actually.” You lean up again to give Luke another kiss. Luke pulled you on his body, having his hand on your waist and somewhat on your ass. But you didn’t mind as the kissing got heated. But, it was interrupted by a yelling from the house.

“Y/N, do you wanna see Luke’s naked baby pictures?” Jack yells, making Luke flush as you giggled at him. 

i really havent posted at all yesterday omg