Title: “Unwanted Messages & Unfiltered Opinions”
Setting: The Mindscape living room. The atmosphere is casual but tinged with irritation. Riley is curled up on the couch, scrolling through their phone with a disgruntled expression. The Sides are sprawled around in various states of relaxation—though “relaxed” is debatable, considering the conversation topic.
Beckett: Frowning, hugging a pillow tightly. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew adding some random guy from Bumble would go wrong. I had a feeling, and yet— gestures wildly at Riley’s phone. Here we are!
Reese: Lying upside-down on the couch, legs draped over the backrest, smirking. Okay, but like… how fast did he go from ‘Hey, how are you?’ to full-blown ‘Hey, here’s my unsolicited garbage’?
Riley: Sighing, rubbing their temples. Literally within a couple of messages. I thought he was cute! And then BAM—instant regret.
Flint: Sitting in an armchair, adjusting his glasses, looking deeply unimpressed. Statistically speaking, this was a predictable outcome. The percentage of men who behave this way on dating apps is— pauses, scanning an imaginary chart in his head—frankly, abysmally high.
Valor (Pride): Arms crossed, standing by the fireplace, jaw clenched. He thought he could do that because he assumed he could get away with it. Because too many people let him. Riley, you don’t owe anyone your time, especially not some random creep on Snapchat.
Beckett: Still clutching the pillow like it’s a shield against humanity. What did he even think was going to happen? Like—what’s the logic here? “Oh wow, thanks for that explicit, unprovoked message, let’s fall in love immediately”?!
Reese: Snorting, flipping right-side-up and resting his chin on Riley’s shoulder. Honestly, I almost respect the audacity. It’s like watching someone sprint full-speed into a brick wall. In slow motion. Grinning. Almost respect, but mostly just… wow, dude, read the room.
Flint: Sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. This is why I advocate for precautionary vetting. A basic conversation before adding someone on another platform would significantly reduce this risk.
Riley: Groaning, covering their face. Okay, okay, lesson learned! No more fast-adding cute guys from Bumble.
Beckett: Muttering. Should have never been a lesson in the first place.
Valor (Pride): Voice sharp, a rare flash of genuine anger in his eyes. It’s not Riley’s fault. Don’t blame them for expecting basic human decency. The blame is on him.
Reese: Mock offended. Hold on—did you just defend Riley? Pride actually being protective? Gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. Who are you, and what have you done with Valor?
Valor (Pride): Rolling his eyes but still tense. I’m always protective. I just usually focus on bigger things. But this? This is pathetic. He thought he could test Riley, see how far he could push, just like so many others do. I hate it.
Flint: Nodding. He likely does this to multiple people, knowing full well that some will block him, but he’s gambling that others won’t. It’s a predatory tactic, simple as that.
Beckett: Grumbling, pulling the blanket up to his chin. Can we… not think about how many other people he’s done this to? I’d like to believe he just disappears into the void after getting blocked.
Riley: Dryly. Yeah, well, I blocked him, so I’m choosing to believe he no longer exists.
Reese: Casually flipping his sketchbook open. Want me to doodle a highly embarrassing, not-at-all-flattering caricature of him? I’ll even add stink lines.
Riley: Laughs, shaking their head. As tempting as that is, I’d rather just move on.
Valor (Pride): Still scowling. Fine. But next time, trust your instincts. If something feels off, it probably is.
Flint: Matter-of-factly. I suggest we implement a waiting period before adding people outside of dating apps. A minimum of three days of conversation before exchanging additional contact information.
Beckett: Muttering. Or just… never add anyone ever again. Ever.
Reese: Grinning. Or, hear me out—Riley could start sending them weird messages first. Really throw them off their game. Puts on a dramatic voice. “Hello, sir, do you have a moment to discuss the philosophical implications of potato salad?”
Riley: Snorts, shaking their head. Tempting. But I think I’ll just be more careful next time.
Lev: Finally speaking up, his voice calm but serious. That’s really all we can do—learn from it and move forward. It’s frustrating, unfair, and exhausting that we have to be on guard like this, but you’re not alone, Riley. You’ve got us. Always.
Riley: Smiling softly, pulling the blanket tighter around themselves. Thanks, guys. I needed this.
Beckett: Still wary but relaxing slightly. Just… take care of yourself, okay?
Reese: Winking. And if you ever do want me to draw an embarrassing doodle of him, you know where to find me.
Valor (Pride): Rolling his eyes, finally sitting down. Just… next time, let us vet them first.
Flint: Adjusting his glasses, already making a mental checklist. Agreed.
Riley: Laughing lightly, shaking their head. You guys are the weirdest bodyguards ever.
Lev: Smiling. And yet, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
The group settles into a more comfortable silence, the tension slowly fading as they shift into easier conversation.
Lev: Let’s check the askbox, see if anyone wants to talk to us. At least the Fanders that would be interested in our blog won’t send that kind of stuff.