my life is doing that thing again

Look At The Skies, They Have Stars In Their Eyes

This is a sequel to this fic, but can be read as a separate fic!

(This is also based off Phoebe’s wedding in Friends)

I couldn’t do this.

Not again. Not when it had all gone so horribly wrong last time. Not when today could be ruined. Not when I had everything to lose.

With Tamlin, I hadn’t even cared. At least not in the way I was supposed to care about my future husband. With him, I had no worries, no doubts about what my future would hold. Because I had known from the moment I had been born. Get married, have kids, live a simple life in the suburbs. And I had accepted that future. Accepted it because that was the normal thing to do. That was what I was expected to do. But now…

Now I had no idea how the rest of my life would pan out.

But I knew - knew with every fibre of my being - that I wanted Rhys beside me.

So why was I feeling this way?

No… I knew why.

Rhys wasn’t Tamlin. 

But I was still me.

Keep reading


Hi everyone. I’m in a lot of trouble rn. My parents were snooping through my phone and found out that Dani and I are dating. They are Very conservative Catholics so being gay doesn’t fly with them. After hours of screaming, crying, being verbally and nearly physically assaulted, they told me to get the hell out of their house.

I am currently stuck in a halfway home for homeless LGBT youth until I find somewhere else to live. I have a job, thankfully, but I can only work so many hours because of school. I have a friend in Louisiana that I can possibly stay with for a bit until I find something more permanent. Though, I am not sure how promising that is, plus it is very far from campus and I would have to drop out.

I am working with my boss on my hourly pay. It may be going well for me but I am still unsure. I have no other choice other than dropping out and finding a warehouse job.

I need about $500 by the end of the week. I’ve always tried to never ask others for things and tried to survive on my own, but I have to swallow my pride this time because I really don’ t know what else to do. The Tumblr community has been amazing to me and has always been very supportive. Any way that you can help, even if it’ s just a $1 would be greatly appreciated. My PAYPAL is Again, even if you can give like a dollar or two, that would literally save my life.

Please help ya girl out!

anonymous asked:

Stop complaining about your baby. You were given a gift. Who cares if they don't sleep? Or wake up every 10 min. I can't have children. Do you know what I would give to have a baby crying at me? I would sleep two hours every night for the rest of my life if it meant I could hold my child in my arms. Hold your little one dear. Because you could've been someone like me. Where it will never ever be an option to hold your child.

I’m truly sorry for your misfortune.
But, you must not know my story, and MY misfortunes to be so quick to send this message my way. So since you’ve offered a little insight into your life, let me do the same.
I struggled to get pregnant, I cried constantly blaming myself, I thought I was being punished. Finally I was blessed with being pregnant. And not a damn thing went right. I questioned my faith, I blamed myself (yet again), I was told to abort my daughter by doctors, I was told by family if my child had “problems” they wouldn’t be able to look at her. I went over half a pregnancy not knowing if I should celebrate, because I still might have to deliver a dead baby, I put my body through heaps of testing, all for the sake of my daughter. I’m tired, I’ve been tired since before she was born, I’ve had many sleepless nights wondering if she would be okay, and now I spend all my nights making sure she is okay. I’m sick, I’m a stay at home mom, doing everything myself from 3/4am-7/8/9/10/11/12 at night, it’s fucking hard. I’m am more than entitled to complain about my lack of sleep, and my child not sleeping, every mother is entitled to do the same. And just because I don’t post about it, doesn’t mean that I’m not sitting here at 3am, coughing like crazy, feeding my daughter staring at her little face, counting all my blessings that I’m able to hold her, and kiss her, and tell her how much I love her.
I feel for everything women/couples with fertility complications have to go to, but that doesn’t give you any right to attempt to make me feel guilty for complaining just a little.

alright. i don’t really talk much about learning disabilities on here (aside from the odd cryptic text post) but this has been troubling me a lot lately, so…yeah.

here’s the thing: i lean on my adhd a lot to explain why i am the way i am, and it’s a pretty cheap tactic, because having a learning disability or disorder isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card for being a twat. but i have spent my whole life being told the same things over, and over, and over again:

  • “keep your voice down.” 
  • “stick to the subject, please.” 
  • “don’t interrupt.”
  • “stop fidgeting, it’s distracting.” 
  • “why are you doing that?” (“that” being pulling at my skin, scratching at my wrist, chewing my nails, bouncing my leg, clicking my tongue, and various other compulsions that happen when i’m jittery. most of the time i don’t even notice i’m doing them until someone points it out.)
  • “slow down and speak clearly. i can’t understand what you’re saying.”
  • “can’t you just sit still for five minutes?” 
  • “remember to ask other people questions and not just talk about yourself the whole time.”
  • “try listening for once, and maybe i wouldn’t have to repeat everything.” (this when i tune out of a conversation halfway through, or have trouble understanding what someone is saying.)
  • “stop asking so many questions and just wait for me to explain.”
  • “focus on what’s being said, not what you want to say.” 
  • “if you can’t pay attention, then why are you even here? go and waste someone else’s time.” (multiple times, from multiple teachers.)
  • “please stop talking.” 

them’s the rules - and they’re fair, on the whole. no one likes somebody who goes on and on about themselves and doesn’t let anyone else get a word in edgeways. when that same someone acts like they aren’t listening to you, it’s annoying, even hurtful. a loud, fast-paced voice that stutters and repeats itself is grating. a live wire who’s constantly twitching and pacing is infuriating. if i want people to like me - or not even like me, but tolerate me - i have to maintain a convincing impression of someone who is able to interact with other human beings in a way that is considered normal, socially acceptable, and likeable. i’m constantly scared, constantly checking myself, constantly fighting a losing battle between how i am and how i know i should be.

and it’s exhausting, because for me, all of this stuff is just my natural way of being. after twenty years, i still have to consciously fight to get myself back on track, to shut up, to let other people talk. and every time i slip up - every time i hear myself going off on a completely unrelated tangent that doesn’t make sense to anyone except me, or i interrupt in my eagerness to be heard - there’s a knee-jerk reaction of total mortification. because i broke the rules. i forgot to act like an Ordinary Person, and acted like me. 

i don’t use the adhd label for my own convenience, but for other people’s. once i explain, they see the light: my unhealthy behaviours are not personal failures, but symptoms! my irritating habits are not character flaws, but manifestations of a disorder! ah, it all makes sense now. it’s patronising, sure, but it’s better than being vilified for something that i have enormous difficulty in controlling. diagnosis doesn’t change who i am, but it can change how other people treat me - and for someone who’s spent their life being afraid of coming across as rude or self-centred, that’s invaluable. 

I’ve met a lot of people in Tumblr. Some became friends, some became our sisters or brothers from another mothers. Some became our lovers and some became our best friends.

I’m just really happy to realize this thing. This morning, while I’m preparing for work, the memories of those friendships flashed back through my mind. We were so young. We were still studying the first time we’ve met each other. It was so easy to meet them in person back then.

As time goes by, some deactivated, some deactivated & signed up again, and some stayed. But I’m really happy to see most of us doing just fine in life. Most of these friends of mine are already working, some are now finally happy with their lives, some of them have already met the person they want to share their lives with, unlike before, we were so fucking miserable. I mean, we maybe still, but at least lesser. We got wiser.

I’ve lost contact with some of them. And I am badly missing you all. But if you’re reading this right now, I want you to know that you will never be forgotten. I will forever treasure those memories. This sounds so emotional but I’m just really missing those days.

Thank you for everyone. Especially to those who stayed.


I realized a couple weeks ago that I have done a pathetic job at tagging my fics/headcanons/etc, and it made my blog nearly unsearchable. So I went through and tagged every post worth while (and let me tell you, present me was really hating past me throughout the process - SO MANY POSTS). But now my blog is at least searchable by character. 

Also, my personal life has cleared up a bit, so the ask is open until Thursday night! Then I gotta go places this weekend, so I’ll have to close it again for a few days, but after that I should get back into my groove and be able to do blog things consistently again :)

Also huge shout out to everyone who checked in on me during the last week or so. I really appreciate all your care and concern 💜💜 Cars fandom = best fandom

Important Information Pertaining to this blog

 It is with an extremely heavy heart that I’m officially putting this blog on a near total hiatus. I say nearly because I will pop in to reply to the few threads I do have every now and again (at least once a week/two weeks). For how long? I truly do not know. Things have really collapsed over here entirely and it’s no longer fun to come on Rani. I still love her just as much, but threads have died and a lot of my friends either have left or have drifted away. Life happens and I hold no bitter feelings about this. But Rani just isn’t fun to be on anymore. I hope to return to her relatively soon but like I said, it’s just not fun. I DO enjoy the few (2 or 3) threads I have though but overall it’s more depressing than anything to come on. We’ll see when/if I come back


I DO have other accounts i roleplay on and am very active with, so you are more than welcomed to send me asks/messages for that. Likewise, I do have a SKYPE and KIK that i am willing to share with people. Feel free to ask, I will be on here most of today/tomorrow for people who want this information.

Finally, a list of people I want to thank for making my time fun! I’m sure I missed some people and I’m super sorry if I missed you, but know that I want to thank you even if I did miss you!

@iiwasbrilliant / @pxddfoot ; @canspotatimeagent@askperibrown ; @ask-xi ; @timesvigilante ; @okaycallmefred ; @spoiledendings ; @americanparamedic ; @mxstress ; @five-guns-days ; @nineandrunning ; @melodyandpond ; @madinsomeway ; @spoiledendings ; @imjustanauthor ; @dangeroussdames ;  @fobwatchedcenturion


Just testing pics of what I have been up to these last two weeks. I’ve been gone since Christmas of last year, cuz well - life. And I’m a turd. I happened to open Tumblr and see THIS and I was drawn back in. And since I got caught liking things again…

… I figured I should make some kind of “I’m Back” post. Not sure how long I will hang around but until I leave, I sure do enjoy seeing my *don’t say old* veteran simmer friends. Glad to see y’all still simming and representing the “not young” generation, lol!

Currently, I’m homeschooling my five children. Technically, it’s online school but for the most part we do what we want. PE is done at the local park or with a walk down our driveway and lunch is either homemade comfort food or the local drive thru. Although things are busy for me, I enjoy being with my kids and they like not having to get up until  9 am. I wish other parts of my life were going this well. But I won’t be greedy. 

anyone else kinda terrified you’ll never be able to hold a job in the future because of your mental illness

To my favourite person in the world,
I know things are over, and I know that means I don’t get to create any new memories with you. I know I have told you not to talk to me again, but every day I talk to you, sometimes in whispers, sometimes in sobs, but every day I do. I know a lot of things now and one of them is how incredibly I miss you, but how that alone is not a great enough incentive to get us to talk again anymore. I know what we had was special and invaluable, and I know it because I know a lot of people, a hell lot of them, and still nothing makes up for the fact that we won’t get to stroll around aimlessly together anymore. I know I am sad, I can feel it every day as I lay my head down to sleep, and I know why I am so, but I also know that I have tried with all my heart for the both of us and it went in vain. I know what would feel good and what is right to do, and it aches me that this time they are two completely different things. I know I had you. I know I lost you. I know things are shitty. I know it’s already been a while. I know I should’ve been feeling better. But I am not. And that’s okay, or at least that’s what they say. The one thing I don’t know is whether this will end up being just a break or a good-luck-in-another-lifetime kind of thing. And it’s scary how I don’t even know which of them would be a better option. I don’t know why I’m writing this as well, but I guess if I ever figure out why I still talk to you in my head every day, I’ll figure out the rest of this.
Love, always.
—  far-far-awayy 

a request!

reblog this post & in the tags talk about ur first Legit oc

A thought: Modern flinthamilton AU in which Alfred is still a homophobic douchebag but they went ‘fuck you’ and got married anyway.

I call this “Thomas I don’t think your husband is listening to a single word you say…… he’s… distracted”

Bojack Horseman’s one fuck a season rule

“You know what it was like for me? I had nobody. Everybody left. I knew all those showbiz phonies would turn on me. Sure. But you? I don’t care about the job! I did fine. I had a good life. But what I needed then was a friend, and you abandoned me. And I will never forgive you for that. Now, get the fuck out of my house.”
- Herb Kazzaz, Season 1 Episode 8

“Don’t. Don’t you dare. If you are not out of my driveway in thirty minutes, I will call the police. And if you ever try to contact me or my family again, I will fucking kill you.”
- Charlotte Moore, Season 2 Episode 11

“You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep doing shitty things, and then feel bad about yourself, like that makes it okay! You need to be better! You are all the things that are wrong with you. It’s not the alcohol, or the drugs, or any of the shitty things that happened to you during your career, or when you were a kid. It’s you. All right? It’s you. Fuck, man. What else is there to say?”
- Todd Chavez, Season 3 Episode 10

Fuck you, mom. Look at you, you old piece of shit, rotting in a nursing home! Now I have the power!” 
- Bojack Horseman, Season 4 Episode 5

The Proposal

“Oh, look, Draco. It’s Mr. O’Sullivan, the Arithmancer. We should introduce ourselves,” Harry said in an overly-chipper tone.

Draco eyed his boyfriend speculatively over his glass of champagne. Harry usually hated Ministry events such as this, and he hated meeting the people there even more. Draco did not for one second believe that Harry wanted to meet Mr. O’Sullivan, especially considering that the man’s job was one of the most boring in the Wizarding World.

“Should we now?” Draco asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

“I just said we should, didn’t I?” Harry kept talking in that annoyingly buoyant way and Draco rolled his eyes.

“If you insist, love.”

Harry and Draco crossed the crowded room, Harry’s hand placed possessively on Draco’s lower back. The smile on Harry’s face was about a mile wide when they reached Mr. O’Sullivan. Draco was smiling too, but not in the manic way that Harry was, his was simply a polite nice-to-meet-you smile.

“Mr. O’Sullivan?” Harry said and the middle-aged man who had been gazing out the window turned to face the two gentlemen.

“Yes? Oh, my. It’s you.” O’Sullivan’s eyebrows lept up to where his hairline should’ve been, had he not been bald. Draco’s smile widened almost imperceptibly, as he found it quite amusing when people twice his age were awed to be in the presence of his boyfriend.

“Yes, it’s me,” Harry responded. “I’ve heard that you’re a very talented Arithmancer and I wanted to introduce myself.”

O’Sullivan turned a horrid shade of scarlet as he said, “Oh, my. Oh, my. That’s very kind of you, Mr. Potter, but I’m just one of many Arithmancers in the world. But you, Mr. Potter, there’s only one of you. It’s such an honor to meet you.” O’Sullivan gazed admirably at Harry and only when Draco cleared his throat did he seem to realize that Harry was not alone. “Oh dear. I’m sorry. It’s an honor to meet you as well, Mr. …”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” Draco said, forcing himself to ignore the way O’Sullivan’s eyes widened as he realized that Harry Potter was accompanying an ex-Death Eater.

When O’Sullivan failed to reply, Harry spoke up, “He’s my fiancé.”

It was now Draco’s turn for his eyebrows to rise to his hairline and his eyes to widen. He and Harry weren’t engaged. If they were, Draco was fairly certain he would know about it.

Keep reading

my good friend @lena221b recently reminded me of a series of drabbles i wrote in response to anon asks aaaaages ago. i couldn’t find the original posts (we’re talking years ago, that’s too much scrolling for one mortal girl) so i decided to lump them all together here. the following are a few short snippets of derek and stiles’ life together. in my head they’re all part of the same universe. enjoy!

“I dream about riding you sometimes.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, just tries to roll himself back over. ‘Tries’ being the operative word, because he somehow manages to get himself tangled in his hoodie and then he’s just struggling on the ground with his head trapped in the sleeve.

Ordinarily Derek would help him, would feel guilty about dropping him in the first place, but right now he’s too preoccupied with choking on his own spit.

Stiles fights his way out of his clothing and gazes up at Derek.

“You’re so big though, I’m not even sure I could get my legs around you.”

Can werewolves go into cardiac arrest? Because it’s happening, Derek’s pretty sure it’s happening.

“And you’re so strong, too. I bet I could just climb up on there and you could keep going for hours.”

Stiles smacks his lips and wiggles on the forest floor and seems completely unconcerned with the way Derek’s world is rearranging itself around him.

“Such a scary wolfy,” Stiles mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “You’re also really fluffy though.” He reaches out and starts patting Derek’s boot. “Preeeetty.”

Derek steps carefully away from Stiles and smashes his head into the nearest tree. A cut appears on his eyebrow and then heals before he’s even wiped the blood away. Because Stiles is talking about riding Derek in his wolf form. Like he’s some kind of glorified pony. And Derek is so pathetically gone on this boy that he’d let him. He’d growl and snarl and snap his jaws and then he’d get down on his haunches and carry Stiles wherever he wanted to go.

He’s absolutely, definitively not disappointed that Stiles isn’t talking about riding him in his human form because that would be gross and creepy and taking advantage of Stiles’ intoxicated state.

Right, Stiles, who is drunk, and burrowing into a pile of leaves.

Derek sighs at his life and stomps over to pick Stiles up again.

“Whoa, spinny!” Stiles shrieks and clutches at Derek’s collar. When he’s got his feet back under himself he looks around and frowns. “Nooo, no standing, it’s nap time.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Derek grumbles.

“Which is why it’s nap time,” Stiles insists, like it wasn’t his idea to get smashed in the woods in the middle of the night like an utter moron.

“You can sleep back at the loft, okay?” Derek bargains, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and hauling him forward.

“Mmm your bed,” Stiles groans, stuffing his face into Derek’s neck. “Been trying to get into your bed for months.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.


The first time Stiles walks into Derek’s loft and finds him cooking he’s so stunned that he forgets to actually stop walking and crashes into a table.

Derek raises an eyebrow without looking away from where he’s blanching (blanching) vegetables. Once Stiles has stopped rolling around on the floor he uses two bar stools to pull himself right-side-up and brushes himself off as nonchalantly as he can manage.

“You cook?” he asks, trying his hardest not to appear incredulous, but Derek is wearing oven mitts so it’s not really going too well.

Derek levels him with his patented ‘why am I dating an idiot?’ look. It’s very, very flat.

“Yes, Stiles, I can cook,” he says, and pokes at something sizzling in a pan. Stiles boggles. Derek raises his other eyebrow this time. “Why is this shocking? You know I eat.”

“Well, yeah, objectively,” Stiles agrees. “I just always assumed you lived off a diet of Hot Pockets, squirrels, and the tears of your enemies.”

So very flat.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint. I’ll throw this in the bin and then head out to rustle up some woodland creatures.” He goes to turn off the burner and Stiles dives across the kitchen.

"No, no, no. This is good. This is — What is this?” Stiles takes a whiff and just about hits the floor again. “Oh god, feed me.”

(Stiles can cook too, but his speciality is sweet things. Derek couldn’t bake a cake to save his life. They’re a match made in culinary heaven.)


"No,” Derek says sternly, giving Stiles everything his eyebrows have to offer. “Absolutely not.”

“What! Derek, come on, you know you want one,” Stiles wheedles, waggling his own eyebrows at Derek. He looks ridiculous and definitely not appealing.

“I have my hands full enough just trying to look after you.”

"Hey!” Stiles squawks. “I resent that! I am a fully functioning adult, thank you very much,” he says, puffing himself up.

All Derek has to do is glance pointedly at the thing curled up in Stiles’ arms and he puffs right back down again.

“I’ll keep her at my place! You won’t even know she’s there. I’ll take such good care of her, I swear.” Derek remains unmoved. Stiles pulls out the big guns. “Babe, please.” Damn him. “Just look at that face. You can’t say no to that face.”

The thing is, Derek is dangerously close to letting slip just how true that is. He’ll never be able to say no to Stiles. He might put up a token protest, but Derek knows that the second Stiles asks him for anything he’s already screwed.

And right now Stiles isn’t pulling his punches either. He’s got the big eyes and the pouty lips and his neck stretched out at the most perfect angle and Derek’s ready to fall to his knees and offer Stiles everything.

Except, what, no, not this time, Stiles is starting to make him legitimately insane.

“Who are you?! Hagrid?!” he exclaims. “Put the dragon down, Stiles.”

Stiles pulls this heartbroken face, and Derek is almost swayed except dragon.

“But she’s just a baby!” Stiles wails. “She doesn’t know how to look after herself.”

“She just singed off Scott’s eyebrows,” Derek says flatly. “I think she’ll be fine.”

(On the walk back to the Jeep Derek offers to buy Stiles a cat in place of the dragon, because they’re basically the same thing anyway and Derek is a sucker.)


“I told you not to do it,” Derek sing-songs, condescendingly, not even looking up from his book. The ass.

“No you didn’t,” Stiles moans from his place on the couch. He removes his arm from his face to glare weakly at said ass. “You said, ‘As if you’d ever get your nipple pierced’. Which was basically a direct challenge. Which means of course I did it.”

Derek doesn’t even stop reading to roll his eyes at Stiles. He just kind of widens them slightly with a long-suffering look on his face. The ass.

"This is entirely your fault,” Stiles whines. Derek doesn’t respond at all.

Stiles wriggles around making pitiful noises until Derek snaps his book shut with a growl. “What.”

“It hurts,” Stiles sniffles.

“Well that’s because you poked a piece of metal through your flesh,” Derek bitches, but he gets up and walks over to the couch anyway. He lifts Stiles’ legs and settles himself down, Stiles’ thighs splayed across his lap. Then he curls his hand around Stiles’ knee and begins leeching his pain.

“Better?” he asks, and Stiles hums in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s just about to drop off the edge of consciousness when something hot and wet envelops his nipple. Stiles jerks violently and finds Derek staring up at him from his chest, eyes dancing. He grins wickedly and flicks his tongue against the bar and Stiles melts.

(Derek ends up loving Stiles’ nipple piercing. Stiles lords it over him for months until Derek comes home with a piercing in a much more sensitive place. Stiles’ mouth is busy doing other things after that.)


Derek went into this relationship with Stiles with his eyes wide open. Which basically meant he was expecting a lot of sex, because every second word out of the kid’s mouth was innuendo and he smelled constantly turned-on. And Stiles did not disappoint. There was a lot of sex. A lot.

Derek was not expecting the cuddling. But five months in Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stiles is actually a were-octopus and just hasn’t told him yet.

No matter how aggressively he spoons Stiles when they’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll always wake up buried under warm, clingy boy.

When Derek joined the Stilinski’s in visiting the Sheriff’s mother over Thanksgiving, he passed out alone on the couch and woke to Stiles wrapped around him, his face shoved under a throw pillow.

Stiles holds him in the shower, tucks Derek under his arm at pack movie nights, plasters himself to Derek’s back in the kitchen when he’s soft and tired-eyed.

The first time Stiles grabbed Derek’s hip and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder while they were both brushing their teeth Derek spent two whole minutes staring at him in the mirror. The first time. Now it feels weird whenever he’s not lopsided during his entire morning routine.

For years after Kate, Derek was uncomfortable being touched. Other people’s hands made his blood pump harder and his breathing turn shallower and his muscles coil up. Now, the safest he ever feels is when Stiles’ arms are snug around his heart.

PSA; miraculous fandom.

Hello fandom. I am adriexnette, and also a former admin at miraculousdaily. Even though i was one of the first people to start to blog, I finally decided to leave the blog for my own mental health. This past Thursday afternoon, I left the blog, clocked the main admin as well as the blog itself, and looked towards a new start.

However, I’ve been bottling these feelings out for so long, that to create a true new start, I had to get it out. So here I am, letting it out. 

The reason i left is the main admin, captainpoe. Without further a do, here is a list of some of the things he made me go through as an admin of that blog:

  • Deleted I post that i reblogged onto miraculousdaily from my own blog, and made another post with the exact same information.
  • Deleted a post that i reblogged onto miraculousdaily from zagtoondaily and made another post with the exact same information.
  • Yelled at me for asking him to delete a repost
  • Yelled at me for deleting a piece of fake information that was starting to circulate
  • Refused to use the zagspoilers tag and insulting me for wanting it
  • Not giving me credit when he was told that he had to use the zagspoilers tag when he was blogging
  • Yelling at me for not posting on the blog during my college apps
  • Insulted the fandom and pretended that he didn’t want to take part in it
  • Yell at me every time i forgot to tag something
  • Insult zagtoondaily behind their backs
  • Repeatedly told me that he wanted us to be the number one blog for everything.
  • Repeatedly telling me he wants to be the only blog posting news
  • Making me shake every time my chat box rings
  • Yelled at me when I was trying to get him to listen to something i had to say but he disagreed with
  • Insulted my friends and called them “whiny babies”
  • Insulted gifmakers in the fandom and calling them “whiny bitches”
  • Made the same gifset as me right after I explicitly messaged him and told him that I already had done it
  • Posted the exact same thing as me after he saw it on my blog 
  • Refused to reblog any of my original stuff on miraculousdaily unless I “payed” for it later with gifs and news on miraculousdaily
  • Prohibited me from coming up to him if I disagreed with something he was doing.
  • “banned” me from deleting any of his posts that were spreading false news about miraculous
  • deleted a post i made on miraculousdaily trying to shed light on fake information he was trying to spread
  • Has legitimately made me cry more than a few times

(and while it is true I hadn’t been posting at all, this past year has been the busiest of my life and i’ve been barely keeping my own blogs active)

I had to leave miraculousdaily to get away from this toxic atmosphere. My heart beat always picked up when my chat box rang because i thought it was him yelling at me. I was even afraid to do stuff on the blog because i would get blamed for something.

So if you also do not condone behavior like this, I would advise to unfollow or even maybe block the blog. I hate seeing abusive people like this getting all of this love and attention, justifying their behavior. Miraculousdaily was a beautiful idea, but its toxicity ruined it for me.

HOWEVER, do NOT send the blog hate. do NOT send captainpoe hate. and PLEASE PLEASE do NOT hack into the blog and ruin it. I am very sorry that happened yesterday, especially on the anniversary of Miraculous. No one deserves that. Even after all that he put me through.

Anyways, here it is. It is out now and after this, I don’t want to talk about it ever again. I want this part of my “fandom life” to be forgotten, and I don’t want to dwell on it any longer. 

I have given you my point of view, you decide what to do with it. You can believe me, or you can call me a brat who just acts like a victim. But whatever it is, please leave me out of it.

PS: I know people like proof, so i have a couple excerpts of things he has said to me that i saved or screenshotted during my time there. again i’m putting this on here so i can be free of it, because even reading it again makes my stomach turn and my breath unsteady. i’m done.

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The Brothel (Pt. 1)

Jungkook x Reader

“He is beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.”

Warnings: Very explicit sexual content.
A/N: None of these pictures are mine, credits to the owners. Not proofread. Enjoy! **the keep reading doesn’t show up in mobile, so you can go to my description and find the story there

Part 1

You remember the first time you saw him in front of you.

You got out of your apartment and into the hallway when you saw his tall figure stumbling down the corridor. His jaw was was clenched and he was breathing through his nose – every exhale echoing through the old, decaying corridor of your building.

He finally lost balance and stumbled into a wall, coming to a stop, and pressing his back flush against the torn wallpaper of the corridor. He started sliding down the wall, his legs slowly giving out.

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