#(I'M SO DONE DO NOT MAKE ME BUY ANOTHER BOOK)

[acourtofthought]

Did you catch the latest podcast with Steph and Ava? They absolutely crack me up! The biggest takeaway for me? They both agree that Azriel's book is next. Meanwhile, the Elriels are being suspiciously quiet about it. But hey, a clickbait piece or song by Taylor somehow holds more weight, right? 😂

Sure, Steph and Ava could be wrong, but let’s be real—neither of them is losing their minds over some random “articles” or Taylor Swift lyrics. They actually know SJM personally. I mean, whether we like it or not, they have a better insight into her than any of us do. What do you think?

I definitely think they're a lot of fun together and I agree, in terms of credible news sources I would think if there's any insider knowledge to be had, it would be Steph over a random ScreenRant journalist. That her statement "not everything is meant to be taken romantically" was possibly a message to e/riels because of how they read into everything but beyond that I am a bit divided on what Steph and Ava actually know or, what they know versus what they're saying.

To me it means something that Steph was all on the E/riel train even when she and Sarah spoke about the Az bonus chapter, where Sarah told her she was excited for her to read the crumbs she scattered. Then later, they had done an IG Live where it still seemed Steph thought E/riel was a possibility and Sarah's face seemed to fall a bit but just a short time later Steph no longer though E/riel was happening. Something like that does make me wonder if Sarah told Steph that E/riel wasn't going to be a thing because there was a noticeable shift between Lives in who she thought was ending up together.

In terms of them knowing who the next book is about, I'm not sure whether they have insider knowledge. Since Sarah kept the HOFAS crossover a secret from even Josh, it's possible she's also keeping the main pairing of the next book a secret to those around her as well. Steph and Ava do think Az is next but Steph also mentioned she felt HOFAS was needed in order to build Az up to have his own book and that seems a bit odd to me. An ACOTAR series character should not need an entirely different series in order to set him up for his own book since not every ACOTAR reader will read CC. So what happens for those readers, they buy the next ACOTAR book completely confused as to where Az's story came from when they left off with SF? What if those readers only read the series because they were able to check out the books from their local library and they have no idea that his bonus chapter exists? I think the next story has to make sense for readers who stopped at SF and are not aware of any bonus chapters or what happened in CC because despite our immersion into this fandom I don't think the majority of readers are into all things SJM the way we are. A casual reader should not be obligated to read beyond the ACOTAR books in order to pick up the next book in the series and understand what's going on and Az processing a time traveler who took his dagger when starting the next book is a bit of a stretch for where things left off in SF. Especially when CC did not actually leave us with any new and immediate threats for them to deal with. Where we left off in SF was the peace treaty, Koschei, Beron and Spring as immediate concerns (they didn't sound like things that could wait another 6-9 months so Az can first deal with his stuff) and Emerie joked the Illyrians would be in hysterics for decades (an Az storyline) meaning not an immediate concern. When the big bad starts making moves in a Sarah book, things move pretty quickly from there on out. I.e. We learned of Hyberns plans in January and the war occurred in August. I think the TOG series occurred over a year. In SF, we learned of Koschei and the Trove in September / October and SF ended in April. So I'm not sure it makes sense to have an Az book (my guess is you'd need at least 6 - 9 months for a realistic love story if he's ending up with Gwyn) then at least another 6 months for an Elain book and for us to finally see Koschei's defeat. That stretches out the Koschei / Beron plot well beyond her norm.

With that said, maybe Steph does know something but if she did, would she say it? That would be breaking the trust of Sarah and Bloomsbury. Knowing something then saying "but it's just my opinion" still kind of spills the tea if you've been forced to sign an NDA. Usually if people know secrets they avoid the topic entirely. Or maybe Steph knows something but she says the opposite to throw people off so she doesn't reveal secrets. In the podcast she also said that if Az and Elain don't end up together, she doesn't think Lucien and Elain are ending up together but that Lucien still can't have his story until Elain deals with her bond and to me that's a strange thing to say. If Elain isn't ending up with Lucien or Az then who is she sharing a book with? And how would we get an Az book, then an Elain book THEN Sarah tackles Lucien's story? How are we dividing the current plots between the three, all with three different love interests? Ava also said she couldn't remember Elain stabbing the King so again, are they just messing with us or are they just too busy with other stuff to actually dive deep into these books the same way we do? Which is completely understandable, they seem to be extremely busy with everything else they have going on, I'm just not sure how much of what they say should be written as gospel.

With all that said, I do think it's possible for Steph to know something but at the same time I'm not sure that what she's saying is her revealing the information she knows. I think it would cross a line to have insider information then share that insider information on podcasts while saying "it's just my opinion" to cover yourself.

However, she's also mentioned a few times that she tells Sarah not to spoil anything for her so I end up divided on the topic.

[morningmask27]

Honestly I'm also not fully happy with what they did with Whis this book

[swordfright]

this might just be because i'm a bit older than your average mcyt fan, but it makes me kind of sad to see all these younger fans scramble to wipe their mcyt fanworks off the internet the second a content creator is revealed to have done something awful.

don't get it twisted, I'm a big believer in rescinding financial support to ccs you no longer agree with or admire by unsubscribing, deciding not to buy merch, or refusing to give them ad revenue by watching their content. if you don't feel comfortable giving someone money, don't give them your money. material support isn't what i'm talking about here - I'm talking about fanfic, fansongs, fanart. yknow, content that fans create for themselves and each other, stuff that's not for ccs.

in the past year (and especially the past week, obviously) i've seen tons of mcyt fans saying they're planning to delete their art (or that they already have deleted) because they don't want their work to be associated with content creators who behaved badly, and that they want "a fresh start." I've seen fan writers say the same thing about their fics. and like, this is fine, do what you want with your stuff, but i'll be honest...it does make me sad that so many younger fans seemingly have been made to feel such a high degree of responsibility for ccs that they're unable to enjoy fandom (a thing that is FOR US! FOR YOU!) or take any measure of pride in their past fanworks.

again, at the end of the day you should do what you want with your own shit. but what i will say is, if what you want to do with your work is delete it, at least think first about why you're considering the nuclear option. you aren't responsible for a cc's behavior, and that goes for literally anyone who's ever had a hand in making anything you like: books, movies, games, anything. you shouldn't be made to feel ashamed of having created fan content for a piece of media that a shitty person was involved in making. straight up, this kind of shame isn't something i believe should exist in fandom, because it's parasocial in the same way that positive emotions towards media/creators can be parasocial.

and also, as someone who's been involved in fandom for a long time, i can say with confidence that creators will keep disappointing you like this. there are shitty people out there. if you're searching for a piece of media with zero shitty people ever involved in the project, you will not find it. i'm not saying this to normalize shitty behavior on the part of creators, I'm saying this to emphasize that bearing the shame and guilt of every creator to this degree is not sustainable or healthy (and it's not how fandom used to operate, but that's a conversation for another day, perhaps.)

i understand why so many folks are considering deleting their fanworks, and if that's you...think about it before you do it. that's all i'm asking. you don't want to create a habit of divesting yourself of all evidence of having been passionate about art created by someone who sucks, because if you do get into that habit, then your chances of ever truly enjoying a fandom again are, unfortunately, pretty slim.

[agirlwithglam]

Do you ever feel sick and don't feel like doing anything when the day before you told yourself you were going to do a glow up, live always the best ecc..?

yes definitely! unless i'm actually sick and incapable of doing anything, i will at least try. you didn't ask for advice, but here we go anyways. when i feel like that, heres a few things i do:

how to do things when you don't feel like doing them: (from personal experience)

believe that you can do anything. dont roll your eyes at me! dont skip this part either. this is the main point that gets me going every single time. i truly believe that i can do anything, that i am capable of literally anything that i want to achieve. if i want it, i will have it. that is the first mindset you must have when it comes to this.

start small/ make it fun. yes, ofc i said this. if you can't do a full 1 hour workout, do some pushups/squats/lunges and go for a bike ride or a walk with a friend. what i do when im going bike riding with a friend is we go to a mall and buy drinks there! so make it fun! adding friends to whatever you need to do certainly makes it fun. another thing you can do is if you need to read, you can create a cosy spot in your room with scented candles and a little snack and everything and sit and read there. just the idea of it gets me excited!

treat yourself like a project/ robot. now THIS is something that has certainly gotten my some discipline. we as humans have emotions and feelings and moods. sometimes we don't wanna do stuff, and we actually cave into that. if you promised yourself that you would change your life, switch off your emotions and moods. treat yourself like a robot or an "apprentice" that you're training to become the best.

reward yourself! so you can either reward the action (like reading or studying) or the outcome (like finishing a book or getting a high mark on a test). decide what works the best for you. example: you don't wanna study? you can either a) reward yourself for studying with some free time with friends or watching your fav show or b) you can reward your self by the score you get on the test (ex if you got higher than 80%= a certain thing on your wish list, above 90%= a better thing on your wish list, 100%= the thing you've wanted for ages) you don't wanna read? you can either.. a) reward yourself for reading for x amount of minutes or b) you can reward yourself for finishing a book in a certain amount of time.

alter egosss. i know, i mention this quite often, but trust me this actually gives such a burst of emotion! embody someone else/ a different version of you that can best handle the situation. im gonna make a whole post on alter egos soon cus i mention it in a lot of my posts.

EDIT:

Please remember that if ur actually sick or genuinely feeling really low, remember to rest!! Remember to take time to relax and slow down. Take care of yourself honey <3

thats it for now! i hope this helped <3

btw heres a big master-post to how to get things done when you dont want to (not by me)

[nonsensical-pixels]

it's finally done! 🎊 to the (multiple people) who requested this, i'm so sorry for taking so long to finish it up, but hey--it's here now, just in time for the new year! i hope you enjoy this conversion of @syboubou's enchanted dreams kids' set as much as i enjoyed making it 💓

there are 25 new build/buy items to delight your littlest and not-so-little sims, all low to medium-poly. this set features not just my first functional playmat (showcased above by babble broke!) but also a functional toddler bed cloned from one of @themediocresulk's, a one-tile crib cloned from @hugelunatic's, another monique's hacked computer, and much more! peek below the cut for the deets 👇

DOWNLOAD: SFS | MF 🌼

credits go to @syboubou for the original ts4 meshes & textures, @themediocresulk for the toddler bed as a pet bed (but for toddlers) that i cloned the toddler bed from, @hugelunatic for the one-tile crib that i based the wicker stroller off of, enjatoki (deactivated?) for the playmat mine is cloned from, and anyone else whom i've probably missed! 🥰

DESCRIPTION

Originally by Syboulette for TS4, converted to TS2 by nonsensical-pixels. Part of the SYB Enchanted Dreams Bedroom Set.

THINGS TO NOTE

The Crib has no animations, owing to its shaping, so expect clipping when babies are put in and out. The Changing Table has no trash can attached, so expect some awkwardness when sims throw trash into the void. The Computer functions as a Monique's Hacked Computer and requires the files from it to work. The Dresser is repositoried to the Changing Table. The Playmat is FULLY FUNCTIONAL and functions like the Baby Mat from the TS2 Store. The Trash Bin is completely decorative. The Wicker Stroller is cloned from a 1-Tile Crib by HugeLunatic and is functional! Only babies can be placed inside. The 12 Wallpapers each have two versions; to fill a whole wall with one alternate between A and B for seamless textures.

ITEMS INCLUDED

Bed Light - 400 polys, $49 Ceiling Lamp - 280 polys, $89 Changing Table - 556 polys, $349 Computer - 1298 polys, $1799 Crib - 848 polys, $219 Crib Drape - 864 polys, $109 Desk - 1148 polys, $399 Desk Chair - 1226 polys, $99 Dresser - 504 polys, $309 Ducks Toy - 1062 polys, $29 Kid Bed - 3658 polys, $299 Kids Books - 92 polys, $29 Lamp - 650 polys, $89 Little Alchemist Table - 2648 polys, $299 Lunch Box - 392 polys, $99 Nightstand - 240 polys, $119 Playmat - 723 polys, $100 Potty - 942 polys, $149 Rug - 2 polys, $79 Stuffed Rabbit - 1656 polys, $99 Toddler Bed - 1396 polys, $199 Trash Bin - 252 polys, $49 Wallpaper - 12 swatches, 2 variants each Wall Tree Light - 1128 polys, $99 Wicker Stroller - 1424 polys, $399 A collection file has been included for ease of browsing the catalog.

if there are any issues that you find with this set, please don't be afraid to let me know! happy simming, and when you download this, do keep in mind,

( @4t2ccdatabase )

[psi-hate]

alright, this really, really sucks but i have an unfortunate update that occurred regarding my recent living situation.

not to get into too much detail for the sake of my friend's privacy, but she and her fiance offered to take me in after i was suddenly on the verge of homelessness this february. i accepted their offer and moved in thanks to everyone's support, and for the last few months, i felt comfortable and capable in getting myself together for the first time in years.

however, despite what i assumed were all positive developments, things started getting a lot more complicated. i become exposed to the treatment and stress my friend has been suffering from her fiance over many years, from being spied on via tracking apps, in-house cameras, a ridiculous jealousy complex and all sorts of other personal issues.

her friends and i have been supporting her over the years, but i didn't realize how bad it was until i started to be subjected to it as well.

my friend decided to break up with her fiance last week, finally standing up for herself but still wanting to remain friends and live as normally as they could, they still had the house and their cats and such. her now ex-fiance hasn't taken kindly to this and has been pretty passively hostile towards us, and has started to take it out on me.

she started stalking my tumblr to find things to get mad at, and checking the cameras when i leave my room. i've not felt comfortable to leave my room in well over a week other than to get some food or use the bathroom in the middle of the night, the tension has been a nightmare.

my friend and i decided we needed to move out, especially me since i'm technically not a tenant and we suspect she's going to call the police on me to get me out of here. my friend will be going to her parents at a later point, but i unfortunately need to leave within a couple weeks as i've already been "indirectly" threatened.

this is sort of a nightmare, and i feel so horrible things turned out this way for my friend. i tried my best, but this feels out of my control. trying to keep the peace has only made things worse, and we think it's best for me to book it before i get blind-sighted.

i suspect if her ex-fiance sees this, she'll retaliate, but at this point i've already made my peace with that.

unfortunately, i won't be able to bring much of my stuff with me, i only have enough money for a ticket to move in with another close friend as an emergency.

i don't have enough to buy any checked bags for most my belongings, especially my desktop pc, so once i move i'm very likely going to not be able to do my art or anything until i can afford a laptop eventually. i'm really sorry to those waiting on any commissions, i'll try my best to get them done before i move. i feel so horrible about this.

if anyone is able to help, i'd really appreciate it. even just a reblog is more than i can really ask. i hesitate to make this request because i feel like i just asked for it only for it to all be wasted once this exploded in my face. but i've been encouraged to reach out, and i apologize if this is too much. my ko-fi:

thank you so much for supporting me so far. i don't want to disappoint anyone anymore. i am so scared but i still want to keep trying.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Photos and Favors I NSFW

You ram inside and out of Ahin with reckless abandon the tightness of her pussy and swell of her hips make fucking her an absolute pleasure. Her ass is ripe and perfect for spanking, which you've done on numerous occasions. If you could spend all day and night fucking her you would. If you could make her pussy your day job you'd apply in a heartbeat, but being her boyfriend right now was perfectly fine. As you lose your mind Ahin rolls up and smiles at you before kissing you while you thrust into her.

"Ah right there baby," she says in between velvety moans. Her voice had a soothing dulcet tone even in the throes of pleasure. Her walls begin clenching your manhood, a telltale sign informing you of her impending release. You moan as you thrust harder and faster into her. Ahin moans as his beautiful breasts bounce up and down and sway in the mirror she had you buy specifically to fuck in front of. You smile enjoying the view before saying, "Man these next few months are gonna suck without you. I wish I had a photo book of you so I could remember your body,"

Ahin notes this as she cums all over your cock. Then she backs her ass into your crotch a few more times to wring your orgasm out. The two of you smile before exhausted you both pass out.

Ahin wakes up a couple of hours later to her alarm blaring a cheerful K-pop track you vaguely recognized as one of her former group's songs but couldn't name if your life depended on it. She fumbled for her phone on the nightstand, silencing the sound with a groggy groan.

“It’s time to go already? Ugh, I hate alarms,” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep. She sat up, stretching with a dramatic yawn that ended in a satisfied sigh.

You leaned against the doorway, watching her with a lazy grin. "So this is how a glamorous ex-idol starts her day? Truly, a sight to behold."

“Keep talking and I might not miss you these next two months,” she teased, rolling her eyes but smiling as she reached for her packed suitcase. "Don’t forget me while I'm gone, okay?"

“Forget you? Impossible.”

You helped her to the car, waving as she left for her hotel. She had a business trip in Japan, then your band’s six-week concert tour. Two months apart was a long time, but as she drove off, Ahin’s message from a few days earlier came to mind—"It won't be a full two months, and I'll have a surprise for you,"

A few days later I got a DM on Instagram from a famous former K-pop idol asking for my number. When I got the text from Ahin asking me to do the shoot, I was surprised. I mostly did regularly published and moderately successful shoots, so being approached for a personal project by a famous—wait, my mistake, former—K-pop star was unexpected. She’d explained that she couldn’t pay me in the traditional sense but promised she’d “make it worth my while.” Intrigued, I agreed. It wasn’t a complicated shoot—just a few photos in her hotel room that would probably take 30-45 minutes.

A few days later, I arrived at the hotel, where the attendant at the front desk gave me some trouble. "I’m here to see Ahin. She’s expecting me."

The attendant frowned, clearly unimpressed. "I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let anyone up without prior clearance."

Before I could argue, a supervisor appeared, glanced at me, and waved me through. “It’s fine. Ms. Ahin called ahead about him. He’s good to go.”

I thanked him and took the elevator to her room. As I approached, I could hear muffled music inside. Her alarm again? I knocked, and after a brief pause, a groggy voice called out, "Come in!"

I opened the door cautiously, finding Ahin sprawled on the bed, her hair an artful mess and her eyes half-closed. She fumbled for her phone on the nightstand, silencing the blaring music.

“Morning,” I said, setting my gear down as she stretched with another exaggerated yawn.

She glanced at me with a bleary smile. “Morning? Barely. I just woke up. Give me a second to look human.” She dragged herself upright, rubbing her eyes.

I couldn’t help but smirk. "Quite the wake-up routine. If this is how glamorous retired idols greet the day, maybe I’ve been doing mornings wrong."

“Hey, I’m still semi-glamorous,” she shot back, her grin growing as she finally stood and ran her fingers through her hair. “I mean, did you see that pose I nailed earlier? That’s cover material, admit it.”

“Oh, definitely. If the cover is for Idol Life After Retirement Monthly,” I teased, earning an exaggerated gasp.

"Wow, rude. I invite you into my hotel room, let you photograph me, and this is how you treat me?" She placed a hand over her heart like I’d mortally offended her.

“Relax, superstar,” I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “You’re still photogenic enough to make my camera blush.”

That earned me a laugh—soft and genuine, the kind that made me wonder if she really knew how to take a compliment or if she was just good at pretending she didn’t need them.

“Well,” she said, brushing her fingers through her slightly messy hair, “I guess you’re not completely hopeless as a photographer. But you know, I only let you shoot me because I trust you.”

“Oh, really? I thought it was because I was cheap.”

“That too,” she quipped, leaning forward with a playful glint in her eye. “But mostly because you’ve got that... vibe.”

“Vibe?”

“Yeah, you’re like, mysterious but approachable. Confident but not cocky. Plus, my boyfriend loves your work, so this is a win-win.” She shrugged as if this assessment wasn’t mildly flattering. “The kind of person you can trust to keep things ‘off the record.’”

“Wow, I’m blushing. You really know how to charm a guy.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she said, throwing me a pillow, which I barely dodged. “My compliments are rare and fleeting. Like me.”

“Noted. Rare and fleeting idol, compliments duly appreciated. Anything else I should write down while you’re feeling generous?”

She tilted her head as if considering. “Yeah, write this down: you’re taking me out for coffee when I get back from Japan. I deserve a reward for putting up with your sass.”

“Deal,” I said with a chuckle. “But only if you’re buying.”

She narrowed her eyes in mock offense. “You’re terrible. No wonder I like you.”

“I get that sometimes,” I responded, smirking as she disappeared into the bathroom.

“So,” I called out, adjusting my equipment, “what kind of tone are we going for? Sexy, innocent, cute, or something else?”

From behind the door, her voice came, amused but thoughtful. “How about all of the above? Let’s keep you on your toes.” Ahin strutted out a few moments later in a sexy crimson lingerie set.

“So, how’s this for a look?” she asked, one eyebrow quirked playfully. “Casual but chic? Or just lazy?”

I adjusted the settings on my camera, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm… somewhere between ‘I woke up like this’ and ‘fashion magazine model pretending to be relatable.’”

She laughed, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll take it. Ready when you are.”

I motioned for her to stand by the window where the natural light poured in, soft and golden. She complied, leaning against the frame with a nonchalant air. The cityscape behind her provided the perfect backdrop, contrasting with her relaxed demeanor.

“Okay, tilt your chin up a little,” I said, raising the camera. “Perfect. Hold that.”

The shutter clicked a few times before I spoke again. “So, why this whole ‘off the record’ thing? You don’t seem like someone who cares much about what people think anymore.”

She shifted her weight, her expression softening. “You’d be surprised. Even when you’re out of the spotlight, people still have opinions. But this isn’t for anyone else. It’s for me, and maybe someone special.”

“Fair enough,” I said, snapping another shot. “And the gravure style? That’s not exactly something I’d expect from you.”

She laughed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know, I guess I wanted to try something different. Push myself out of my comfort zone. Plus, it’s not that risqué.” As she said that struck a pose that emphasized her ass and tits so I was unsure of what she meant by Risqué to be honest

“True,” I lied. “But it’s definitely a shift from what I’m used to seeing of you. Not that I’m complaining.” Ahin bent over for another shot showing off her sweet smile and cavernous cleavage

“Oh? Do you watch all my old music videos on repeat or something?” she teased, arching an eyebrow.

I chuckled. “Maybe. They’re pretty catchy. And the choreography? Mesmerizing.”

She struck a quick pose, mimicking one of her old routines. “I still got it,” she said with a grin before contrasting with another sexy pose where she slapped her ass with a cheeky smile.

“Definitely. Okay, let’s move to the bed for the next set,” I said, nodding toward the neatly made bed in the corner.

She climbed onto it, sitting cross-legged as she adjusted her bra so as much of the breast could be seen without showing a nipple. “So, what about you? What got you into photography?”

I adjusted the camera as I considered her question. “Honestly? It started as a hobby in high school. I liked the way you could freeze a moment, and tell a story with just one image. It felt like a way to connect with people without having to say much.”

“You don’t strike me as the quiet type,” she said, tilting her head curiously.

“I guess I’m not, but my words often got jumbled due to social anxiety so it was much easier to say things using images instead of words,” I admitted. “Photography was my way of being understood without having to shout, you know?”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. For me, it was performing. Being on stage was the only place I felt like I could really be myself.”

“And now?” I ask before I take another shot, her eyes seductive and sultry.

“Now…” She paused, looking down at her hands. “I’m still figuring that out. Being out of the spotlight has been nice, but it’s also weird. Like, who am I if I’m not Ahin, the idol?”

“That’s a heavy question for a Tuesday afternoon,” I said gently. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing fine. Exploring, trying new things—it’s part of the process.”

She looked up at me, her smile tinged with gratitude. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” I said, snapping another photo.

The shoot continued with more laughter and conversation, each frame capturing not just her beauty but the layers of vulnerability and strength beneath it. By the end of it, the room felt lighter, like we’d both learned something about the other—and maybe about ourselves too.

As Ahin glanced through the shots on my camera, her smile widened. “These are amazing. You’re good at this.”

“Like I said,” I replied with a smirk, “I make cameras blush.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed anyway, handing the camera back to me. “Okay, mister confidence. So, about that whole ‘making it worth your while’ thing…”

I raised an eyebrow, curious about where this was going. “Yeah?”

“I owe you a favor for doing this on short notice. What’s it gonna be?”

I leaned against the edge of the bed, pretending to think it over. “Hmm. How about… you set me up on a date with an idol?”

Her eyebrows shot up, and then she broke into laughter. “A date? With an idol? Oh, this is going to be good. That’s a surprisingly tame request from the gravure photographer. Okay, well then give me a list in case we can’t do option one,?”

I grinned, pulling out my phone like I was reading off an actual shortlist. “Let’s see… Jeewon from Cignature, Sana from Twice, Arin from Oh My Girl, Nancy from Momoland, Bibi and Eunbi Kwon the soloists, Umji from Viviz, and Hyewon.”

She blinked at me, then crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. “Wow. You’ve really thought this through.”

“Hey, you asked,” I said defensively, though I couldn’t keep the playful edge out of my voice.

Ahin shook her head, lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Okay, first of all, Bibi? Nancy? Sana? Too much woman for you.”

I held a hand to my chest in mock offense. “Ouch. You don’t think I can handle them?”

“Nope,” she said flatly, laughing at my wounded expression. “But the rest… maybe.”

She pulled a small notepad from the nightstand, scribbled something down, and tore off the page. “Here,” she said, handing it to me.

I looked at the note. It was an address and a time, three weeks from now. Beneath it, was her phone number.

“What’s this?” I asked, puzzled.

“Meet me there,” she said with a sly smile. “And text me before you chicken out. I’ll figure out which idol can tolerate you best by then.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I replied, tucking the note into my pocket.

“Consider it a test,” she said, leaning against the doorway as I packed up my gear. “If you survive three weeks without pestering me, you might just deserve your date.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Challenge accepted.”

As I left the hotel room, note in hand, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d just been pulled into one of her games. But I wasn’t complaining. If nothing else, Ahin definitely knew how to keep things interesting.

Here’s an expanded scene showing the passage of weeks as the narrator and Ahin text and grow closer, establishing their friendship dynamic:

The first text from Ahin came two days after the shoot.

Ahin: Hey, I just saw some of the photos again. You didn’t even make me look half bad. Impressive.

I smirked at my phone.

Me: “Half bad”? Wow, high praise. Should I add “photographed Ahin” to my resume or wait for the glowing testimonial?

Ahin: Pfft. You wish. You’ll get a glowing testimonial when I’m officially retired and too old for anyone to care.

The banter began there and didn’t stop. Over the next few days, we texted off and on. The topics started simple—photos, her travels, my other work—but quickly veered into more personal territory.

One night, a week after the shoot, she texted out of the blue.

Ahin: If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?

I blinked at my phone, then laughed.

Me: Random. But pizza, no contest.

Ahin: Basic. But respectable. Mine’s tteokbokki, obviously.

Me: Obviously. The real question is, how spicy can you handle it?

Ahin: Level 1000. Don’t underestimate me.

The next day, she sent me a picture of a massive bowl of tteokbokki, the sauce practically glowing red.

Ahin: Dinner. Bet you’d cry just looking at it.

Me: That’s not food. That’s a crime scene.

Her reply was just a string of laughing emojis.

The more we talked, the easier it was to see past the idol image she projected. Ahin wasn’t just sharp and funny; she was surprisingly grounded for someone who’d spent years in the spotlight.

One night, a couple of weeks in, she sent me a voice memo.

“Okay, so get this,” she began, her voice animated. “I’m at this fancy dinner for work, right? And this guy—a producer, mind you—spills an entire glass of wine down my dress. He’s apologizing like crazy, and I’m trying to be nice about it, but all I can think is, ‘Wow, this is the universe telling me to quit this job already.’”

I laughed as I hit record to reply. “Maybe the universe is just telling you not to wear white to a fancy dinner.”

Her text came back almost instantly.

Ahin: I should’ve taken you as my date. You’d have carried my spare dress, right?

Me: Obviously. And probably spilled the wine myself for good measure.

The weeks slipped by in a series of conversations like that. Sometimes we talked about nothing—her go-to late-night snacks, my weird collection of vintage cameras—and sometimes we talked about everything.

One night, while I was editing photos, my phone buzzed.

Ahin: Do you ever feel like you’re just… winging it?

I paused, considering.

Me: All the time. Why?

Ahin: I don’t know. Everyone thinks I’ve got it together, but I don’t. Not really. It’s weird pretending to be someone everyone else expects me to be.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say. Then I replied:

Me: Maybe it’s not about pretending. Maybe it’s about figuring out who you want to be now.

There was a long pause before her reply came.

Ahin: Thanks. That’s… actually helpful. But don’t let it go to your head.

Me: Never.

It wasn’t until the third week that I realized how much she reminded me of my little sister—the same mix of wit, charm, and the occasional tendency to overthink everything. Ahin was fiercely independent but also surprisingly open, once she trusted you.

One afternoon, I sent her a picture of an old, beaten-up camera I’d found in a thrift shop.

Me: Look what I rescued today. This thing’s a dinosaur, but it’s got character.

Her reply came with a photo of her own—a perfectly styled selfie with a goofy expression.

Ahin: Speaking of character, this one’s got loads. Guess I’m your competition now.

Me: That camera doesn’t stand a chance.

Ahin: Neither do you.

She followed up with You’re so lucky I don’t charge you for my brilliance. Little sister discount.

Me: Little sister? Is that what we’re going with now?

Ahin: Yeah, but don’t get too comfortable. I’m the cool little sister.

I couldn’t argue with that. As much as she teased, her texts were always a bright spot in my day.

By the time her trip to Japan was wrapping up, our friendship felt as natural as breathing. She was still Ahin—the sharp-tongued, quick-witted former idol—but now, she was also just someone I could count on.

Three weeks later, I found myself standing outside a small, trendy café tucked away in one of Seoul’s quieter neighborhoods. The address Ahin had given me led here—modern yet cozy, with an unassuming exterior that hinted it wasn’t just a random spot.

I checked my phone. Ahin hadn’t texted me back after I sent her a quick “On my way” message an hour ago. Typical. She liked to keep people guessing.

Pushing open the door, I scanned the café. It wasn’t busy—just a couple of tables occupied, but no sign of Ahin. I was about to grab a seat when a waitress approached, handing me a folded note.

“For you,” she said, smiling.

I opened it, recognizing Ahin’s handwriting immediately.

“Go to the rooftop terrace. Your date’s waiting. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

I raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and nerves bubbling up. Ahin wasn’t kidding. She really set me up. The question was—who?

Climbing the stairs to the terrace, I ran through the list in my head. Jeewon? Arin? Hyewon? I tried not to get my hopes up, but my curiosity was killing me.

When I reached the top, the soft sound of laughter greeted me. There, seated at a small table overlooking the city, was someone I instantly recognized.

Hyewon.

She was scrolling through her phone, a cup of tea steaming in front of her. When she noticed me, she put the phone down and smiled—a shy, polite smile that didn’t betray much.

“Hi,” she said, standing to greet me. “You must be Ahin’s friend.”

Friend. Right. That’s all I was to Ahin, but hearing it stung just a little. I shook it off, offering my hand.

“That’s me,” I said, introducing myself. “And you’re… wow. Hyewon.”

Her laugh was soft, almost bashful. “I hope that’s a good wow.”

“Oh, definitely,” I said, sitting across from her. “I just wasn’t expecting… you. Not that I’m complaining.”

She tilted her head, studying me for a moment. “Ahin said you were charming. I guess she wasn’t lying.”

“She said that?”

“She also said you’d try too hard,” she added with a teasing glint in her eye.

I groaned, shaking my head. “Of course, she did. She loves setting me up to fail.”

Hyewon laughed again, this time more openly. “Well, you’re doing fine so far. A little flustered, but it’s cute.”

The ice broke, and we settled into easy conversation. She told me about her recent projects, her favorite spots in Seoul, and how Ahin convinced her to go on this blind date.

“She said you’d be fun,” Hyewon admitted, taking a sip of her tea. “And that you wouldn’t be intimidated.”

“Intimidated?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, some people think idols are… I don’t know, untouchable or something. It’s nice to just talk, you know? No pressure.”

“I get that,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “For what it’s worth, you seem pretty normal to me. In a good way.”

“Normal?” she repeated with mock offense. “Should I be insulted?”

“Not at all,” I said quickly. “Normal is underrated. And besides, I doubt anyone else at this café can say they’re having tea with Kang Hyewon right now.”

Her smile softened, and for a moment, the conversation stilled.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said quietly.

“Is that good or bad?” I asked.

“Good,” she said simply, her gaze meeting mine.

As the afternoon stretched into the evening, I found myself relaxing more and more. Ahin’s note hadn’t been a prank, and for that, I was grateful. Maybe this “favor” wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

By the time we said goodbye, exchanging numbers and a promise to meet again, I couldn’t help but smile. Ahin might’ve teased me endlessly about this, but she’d been right about one thing: this was worth the wait.

You arrive at your hotel for the concert back in Seoul tired. You had put on quite the show everyone was fired up by your performance. Now you hoped for some sweet dreams and calm nights. What you didn’t expect was Ahin dressed in nothing but her little red bikini which happened to be your favorite. Ahin smiled and said, “Miss me?” You nodded as all of her fatigue was replaced by an almost depthless lust you approached Ahin while removing your clothes. She smiled at you while singing Happy Birthday in an angelic tone. “You smiled as she happily let you close the distance.

“Is this my surprise?” you ask euphoric. Ahin shakes her head as she carefully pulls the bikini strap down revealing two flash drives each taped to her nipple. She smiles before setting them on the nightstand. Then she takes off the bottom part of her bikini revealing a third flash drive taped to her clit. She adds it to the row and then says, “For when you miss me.”

You smile then start to strip. By the time you get to her Ahin is rubbing slow tortuous circles around her clit and right breast, “fuck get over here,” she moans needy and desperate.

“I have been waiting for you for a full month." she moans as her pussy glistens and calls to you like a siren. As you close in on her she smiles happily before you plunge deep into her cavern. She moans,

"Fuck I missed this cock," she says as you thrust in and out of her. She's tighter than usual and the friction makes you light-headed, as you both cum after a few moments. You groan and look at each other ditzy and ravenous but the flesh is spongey.

"that was intense," Ahin says as she sticks a finger in her cunt before licking the cum out.

As you watch you get harder and before long you thrust into her again. Ahin moans as she cums all over your cock again. You chuckle and say,

"You're just a slut for my cock aren't you?" Ahin moans wordlessly as you ravage her guts. Her sopping pussy welcomes you snugly.

"Fuck babe, you're so tight." You groan as you take your girlfriend. She growls and places both your hands on her breasts.

"Fucking grope me," she says as she takes your cock. You roughly massage her chest as she begins fucking herself on you and she begins to clench again before cumming again. She squirts around your cock as you keep hammering at her G-spot. She moans as her eyes roll back.

"Fuck cum in me." Ahin moans as she takes more and more of your cock. You smirk seeing the sassy and smiling Starlet reduced to a mewling mess because you make get rougher with her. You smack her perfect ass before you pull out then flip her over so you can ravage her from behind. You start out slowly letting her adjust.

"Ah fuck stop this slow gentle shit fucking ruin me." you smile with your green light and thrust harder into her, but keeping the drawn-out pace. Each thrust drives the former idol's mind to mush. she moans as you watch her ass ripple and sway as you take her further then shes ever gone.

"Fuck!" she moans drawing out her words and then you spank her harder then she's ever been spanked, and she cums again as the pain and pleasure fry her brain. you continue chasing your high though as she goes limp. her body utterly spent. as you rut inside of her still clenching pussy.

Ahin moans mindlessly as you continue to take her, until you pull out and cum all over her ass and back.

"Ahh Fuck" she says happily. You smile as you lay down next to her exhausted.

[writers-potion]

What is the fastest way to improve greatly at writing?

Fast-Forwarding Your Writing Skills

Developing your writing skills take only two things: READ A LOT, WRITE A LOT.

The question is, how do you read a lot and write a lot, in a relatively short period of time?

The first rule: don't give up. It may seem really slow now, but everyone can get better at writing. I know this advice is really stale, but it's one that I've told myself over and over again - just so that I can push through another slow evening.

Here are some things I have tried to get better at writing:

Memorizing quotes/passages/poems that I like. The things that I memorize would come back to me when I'm stuck mid-sentence, and I would try to do something similar. Sounds like plagiarism? Well, copying other authors' styles and mix-matching them is actually an important process of finding your own voice.

Conducting a "plot analysis". I was inspired by the method outlined in the book for this one. After you finish a book, make a list of all the scenes and try placing them into a three-act structure. This will help you (1) familiarize yourself with plot dynamics that work (2) understand your genre better.

Reading a book more than once. Honestly, all of my first reads are just for the story. I gobble the plot up, without paying attention to anything much. On my subsequent reads, I'm able to pay more attention to the way descriptions are done, or how the chapters are divided, etc.

Copying a book by hand, word-by-word. So far the most inefficient method (haha), but this exercise does help you pay A LOT more attention to how the author is using diction, syntax, dialogue, etc. to actually "construct" a book.

I hope this helps! :) If you're reading this and have tips of your own, please comment! >>

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[santacoppelia]

Putting the Meta in "Metatron"

(couldn't resist the pun, sorry)

Ok, this has been tickling my brain for a while. I've been thinking about how The Metatron designed his role and discourse specifically to manipulate Aziraphale into the end result we saw in the last minutes of S2. I become obsessed with it because… well, I'm a bit obsessive, but also because there were many really smart writing decisions that I loved (even when I despise The Metatron exactly for the same reasons. Hate the character, love the writer). If you haven't watched Good Omens Season 2, this is the moment to stop reading. Come back later!

We already know that in Book Omens, the role of Gabriel in the ending was occupied by The Metatron. Of course, the series introduced us to Gabriel and we won a lot by that, but I feel that the origins of The Metatron should be considered for any of this. He is not a "sweet old man": he was the one in charge of seeing over the operation of Armageddon; not just a stickler of rules, but the main promoter for it.

However, when he appears in the series finale, we first are primed to almost pass him by. He is in the line for buying coffee, using clothes that are:

obviously not tailored (almost ill fitted)

in dark tones

looking worn and wrinkled

This seems so important to me! All the angels we have seen are so proud of their aspect, wear clear (white or off white) clothes, pressed, impeccable (even Muriel), even when they visit the Earth (which we have already seen on S1 with all the visits to the bookshop). The Metatron chose a worn, comfortable attire, instead. This is a humanized look, something that fools all the angels but which would warm up someone very specific, can you guess?

After making quite a complicated coffee order (with sort of an affable and nervous energy), he makes a question that Crowley had already primed for us when asking Nina about the name of the coffee: having a "predictable" alternative and an unpredictable one.

This creates an interesting parallel with the next scene: Michael is discussing the possibility of erasing Aziraphale from The Book of Life (a punishment even worse than Holy Water on demons, because not having existed at all, EVER is definitely worse than having existed and ceased to exist at some point) when The Metatron arrives, interrupts the moment and signals having brought coffee. Yup, an amicable gesture, but also a "not death" offering that he shows clearly to everyone (even when Michael or Uriel do not understand or care for it. It wasn't meant for them). He even dismisses what Michael was saying as "utter balderdash" and a "complete piffle", which are the kind of outdated terms we have heard Aziraphale use commonly. So, The Metatron has put up this show for a specific audience of one.

The next moment on the script has Metatron asking Crowley for the clarification of his identity. Up to this moment, every angel has been ignoring the sprawled demon in the corner while discussing how to punish Aziraphale… But The Metatron defers to the most unlikely person in the room, and the only one who will push any buttons on Aziraphale: Crowley. After that, Aziraphale can recognize him, and Metatron dismisses the "bad angels" (using Aziraphale's S1 epithet) with another "catchy old phrase", "spit spot", while keeping Muriel at the back and implying that there is a possibility to "check after" if those "bad angels" have done anything wrong.

Up to this moment, he has played it perfectly. The only moment when he loses it is when he calls Muriel "the dim one", which she ignores… probably because that's the usual way they get talked to in Heaven. I'm not sure if Aziraphale or Crowley cared for that small interaction, but it is there for us (the audience) to notice it: the sympathy the character might elicit is built and sought, but he is not that nice.

After that, comes "the chinwag" and the offer of the coffee: the unnecessarily complicated order. It is not Aziraphale's cup of tea (literally), but it is so specific that it creates some semblance of being thought with care, and has a "hefty jigger" of syrup (again with the funny old words). And, as Aziraphale recognizes, it is "very nice!" (as The Metatron "jolly hoped so"), and The Metatron approves of him drinking it by admitting he has "ingested things in my time, you know?". This interaction is absolutely designed to build a bridge of understanding. The Metatron probably knew that the first response he would get was a "no", so he tailored his connection specifically to "mirror" Aziraphale: love of tasty human treats he has also consumed, funny old words like the ones he loves, a very human, worn, well-loved look. That was the bait for "the stroll": the moment when Aziraphale and Crowley get separated, because The Metatron knew that being close to Crowley, Aziraphale would have an hypervigilant soundboard to check the sense of what he was going to get offered. That's what the nasty look The Metatron gives to Crowley while leaving the bookshop builds (and it gets pinpointed by the music, if you were about to miss it).

The next thing we listen from The Metatron is "You don't have to answer immediately, take all the time you need" in such a friendly manner… we can see Aziraphale doubting a little, and then comes the suggestion: "go and tell your friend the good news!". This sounds like encouragement, but is "the reel". He already knows how Crowley would react, and is expecting it (we can infer it by his final reaction after going back for Aziraphale after the break up, but let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we?). He even can work up Muriel to take care of the bookshop while waiting for the catch.

What did he planted in Aziraphale's mind? Well, let's listen to the story he has to tell:

"I don't think he's as bad a fellow… I might have misjudged him!" — not strange in Aziraphale to have such a generous spirit while judging people. He's in a… partnership? relationship? somethingship? with a demon! So maybe first impressions aren't that reliable anyway. The Metatron made an excellent job with this, too.

"Michael was not the obvious candidate, it was me!" — This idea is interesting. Michael has been the stickler, the rule follower, even the snitch. They have been rewarded and recognized by that. Putting Aziraphale before Michael in the line of succession is a way of recognizing not only him, but his system of values, which has always been at odds with the main archangels (even when it was never an open fight).

"Leader, honest, don't tell people what they want to hear" — All these are generic compliments. The Metatron hasn't been that aware of Aziraphale, but are in line with what would have been said of any "rebel leader". They come into context with the next phrase.

"That's why Gabriel came to you, I imagine…" — I'm pretty sure The Metatron didn't imagine this, ha. He is probably imagining that the "institutional problem" is coalescing behind his back, and trying to keep friends close, but enemies closer… while dividing and conquering. If Gabriel rebelled, and then went searching for Aziraphale (and Crowley, they are and item and he knows it), that might mean a true risk for his status quo and future plans.

Heaven has great plans and important projects for you — this is to sweeten the pot: the hefty jigger of almond syrup. You will be able to make changes! You can make a difference from the inside! Working for an old man who feels strangely familiar! And who recognizes your point of view! That sounds like the best job offer of the world, really.

Those, however, are not the main messages (they are still building good will with Aziraphale); they are thought out to build the last, and more important one:

Heaven is well aware of your "de facto partnership" with Crowley…

It would be considered irregular if you wanted to work with him again…

You, and you alone, can bring him to Heaven and restore his full angelic status, so you could keep working together (in very important projects).

Here is the catch. He brought the coffee so he could "offer him coffee", but the implications are quite clear: if you want to continue having a partnership with Crowley, you two must come to Heaven. Anything else would be considered irregular, put them in a worst risk, and maybe, just maybe, make them "institutional enemies". Heaven is more efficient chasing enemies, and they have The Book of Life as a menace.

We already know how scared Aziraphale has always been about upsetting Heaven, but he has learned to "disconnect" from it through the usual "they don't notice". The Metatron came to tell him "I did notice, and it has come back to bite you". The implied counterpart to the offer is "you can always get death". Or even worse, nonexistence (we have already imagined the angst of having one of them condemned to that fate, haven't we?)

When The Metatron arrives, just after seeing Crowley leave the bookshop, distraught, he casually asks "How did he take it?", but he already knows. That was his plan all along: making them break up with an offer Aziraphale could not refuse, but Crowley could not accept. That's why he even takes the license to slightly badmouth Crowley: "Always did want to go his own way, always asking damn fool questions, too". He also arrive with the solution to the only objection Aziraphale would have: Muriel, the happy innocent angel that he received with so much warmth and kindness, is given the opportunity to stay on Earth, taking care of the bookshop. The only thing he would have liked to take with him is not a thing, and has become impossible.

If God is playing poker in a dark room and always smiling, The Metatron is playing chess, and he is quite good at it (that's why he loves everything to be predictable). He is menacing our pieces, and broke our hearts in the process… But I'm pretty sure he is underestimating his opponents. His awful remark of Muriel being "dim"; saying that Crowley "asks damn fool questions", and even believing that Aziraphale is just a softie that can be played like a pipe… That's why telling him the project is "The Second Coming" was an absolute gift for us as an audience, and it prefigures the downfall that is coming — the one Aziraphale, now with nothing to lose, started cooking in his head during that elevator ride (those couple of minutes that Michael Sheen gifted to all of us: the shock, the pain, the fury, and that grin in the end, with the eyes in a completely different emotion). Remember that Aziraphale is intelligent, but also fierce. Guildernstern commited a similar mistake in Hamlet, and it didn't go well:

"Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me, you would seem to know my stops, you would pluck out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass, and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me."

I'm so excited to learn how this is going to unfold!! Because our heroes have always been very enthusiastic at creating plans together, failed miserably at executing them, and even then succeeding… But now they are apart, more frustrated and the stakes are even higher. Excellent scenario for a third act!

*exits, pursued by a bear*

[thatdeadaquarius]

Hello there, friend I'm here for fluff

OK, this has been on my mind for a while

But like

The reader is just becoming the biggest parent to the Benny's adventure team kids

And the wolfs

We are like a parent of like 27

Knitting and making food brushing razors hair(let's be for real, you would hear a crunch when you brush it)

I'm not gonna lie

Do these kids know what spices are?

Cuz when I think about it

Razor hasn't had shit so he's has the least tolerance for spice

He would probably cry if you feed him a pepper

Bennett has tried spicy food but does go well with it

And not completely sure if fischl has had a spicy food before

But what flavor does mondstadt add to their food??

These kids need the damn flavors

AHDHAKALL FERAL ANIMAL AQUARIUS- ANOTHER PLATONIC ASK AAHHHHGGGGDJJSFHSAK!!!!!

AND ITS YOU!! ITS- ITS- ONE OF THE WRITING RULERS OF SAGAU (FOR ME AT LEAST) <3 !!!!!!!!

You cooking in genshin all anime studio ghibli style looking like food from god (literally): ⬆️

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Benny’s Adventure Team! (Bennett, Fischl, Razor), Diluc, mentions of other Mond characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

^^ The posts being referenced in ask, (OG Razor ask) (Benny + Razor) and a more direct sequel, a part 2? a part 4 atp?? of this post (Imposter/Not Dark AU + Razor + Diluc) ^^

OMFG

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP BITCHES

SINCE UR IN TEYVAT

YOU GONNA COOK LIKE TEYVAT

AS IN-

SHIT BE SUPER EASY TO COOK, AND MASS MAKE DEPENDING ON COMPLEXITY OF DISH

(So, like Zhongli's special Bamboo Shoot Soup is like getting made... once a year if you read the little desc. for that dish 💀)

AND THEYRE ALL LIKE-

ANIME GORGEOUS FOODS ✨️❤️‍🔥

OKAY SO

PROMO TIME-

U GUYS HAVE TO WATCH THE ANIME "CAMPFIRE COOKING IN ANOTHER WORLD"

Bc that's mostly where this inspo gonna come from to both be realistic cooking + best parts of video game cooking

A guy gets isekai’d and instead of hero powers he just gets the skill of "online grocery shopping" LMAO

and ofc he gets insta gifted whatever he orders and starts making dishes and adding spices and regular stuff you know. like soy sauce.

but the best part is the food in that world is like British medieval soup shit

like barely salted, no spices definitely, no sauces, its barren

so he ends up attracting all kinds of interest that want to eat his cooking ofc

And it gives buffs too!

dw i didnt spoil anything u don't learn in the first episode, but that's just to say that's exactly whats happening here

u DO have to manually collect more ingredients but its so worth it, also u can just buy in bulk or put a commission thru the adventurer guild

tbhhh now that i say that, that could be how u end up drawing in Benny’s Adventure Team even more, bc they just take all ur quests for collecting ingredients around Mond!!

(u have to actively sneak behind their back and whisper to Katheryne that you want to put in other food quests in other guilds tho, silly kids will absolutely go running around Liyue and crazy shit just to have an adventure and do smth for you + eat ur banger food lol)

omfg the first time u barbecue smth???

the wolves, Razor, and Andrius??? Go feral.

Fischl and Benny who were already on their way to u guys to hang out again start booking it thru the woods, dodging hilichurl camps (thatve since settled down and been v peaceful to the wolves + anyone in the woods of Wolvendom after u started living there)

they knowww ur cookin smth fucking amazing

(and u even have some hilichurls and mitachurl that wander close to Andrius’ edge of the woods to shyly beg for scraps,, u give them a portion)

Razor was actually lookin at u like u hung the stars just for him when u gave him a homemade barbecue sauce to put on his food

(u acc may have done that to Teyvatians according to Andrius + the stories u overheard from Springvale…)

ok but the amount of begging u get for desserts like-

No, Razor u cannot have chocolate cake/cupcakes after every meal, u need to take care of ur teeth

(u use ur collection of mora-monster-donations for comms for more ingredients and living supplies like fabric + furniture, u cant afford dental on top of that for ur boy)

Fischl dutifully declares you the “best chef in the kingdom” and writes down all ur recipes (u have them auto-stored in ur settings obv but it cant hurt to have a physical copy, and they look so happy doing it, u don't have the heart to tell them its not necessary-)

Benny insists on both giving u extra ingredients when he takes ur commissions, and giving u handmade trinkets or weapons for the meals!!

No!! He will not take “im good” for an answer!! ur sharing ur home-cave with him, taking care of his best friend Razor, and now feeding him food better than Liuli Pavilion!!! There’s no way he can just take all that and give nothing back!!!!

and theyre not the only ones getting some food tbh

when the knights begin patroling near Wolvendom and slowly all of Mondstadt to search for their “All God”, u break up the beginnings of a fight between 2 confused knights and the now peaceful hilichurl camp at the edge of Wolvendom

U offer some snacks u were going to give Benny’s Adventure Team when they got back (u made little triangle sandwiches, rice balls, etc. finger foods, and u made plenty extra bc u kno their teenage appetites lol)

the knights and hilichurls nearly cried with appreciation, which made for a hilarious sight when the teens actually showed up lmao

ur wearing ur cloak, bc u dont wanna take on that whole “creator of worlds” title just yet, and the kids helped verify u werent anyone suspicious (Benny + Fischl keep ur godly secret, theyre the best like that 🥰)

the knights just swing by for snacks occasionally (they also either pay u in trade or with mora, theyre not bullies)

another person who gets flavored food privileges is the lazy librarian witch herself

u also sometimes pick Razor up from Lisa’s tutoring and bring “the best tea and tea snacks in the world” along with to share with Lisa and him

(she is also fully aware after awhile of meeting u of what u are, and fully believes this is why the food must be enchanted to be so good, but u dont want to be treated super reverently she can tell, so she keeps ur secret too and is just extra flirty when u come by lol)

(Razor refuses to let his pare- Lupical move out of ur cozy cave to the library, so he sometimes hauls u away when Lisa flirts too much LMAO)

…and the moment you've been waiting for.

Yes, Diluc got to try ur food that night he was searching Wolvendom for signs of the god of Teyvat

tbh Diluc was half-convinced that shit was a fever dream.

a bunch of sleepy wolves, a coffee table in the stone colosseum, a giant spirit wolf licking a big plate clean, the wolf-kid glaring at him, and you.

you with gold eyes, staring right thru his soul, like you already know everything there is to know about him, (like the way Kaeya looked at him that night),

like he doesnt even have to introduce himself

and he doesnt, u just lightly smack Razor’s hands until he gets rid of his claymore w/a pout, since Diluc had long since dropped his,

and grab a plate, piling on what leftovers u could, and turn back around from the coffee table to smile at him, patting the cushion-seat beside u for him to join

The giant glowing wolf licks his lips and watches him, the wolf-kid’s creepily watches him, and you, with eyes gold in teh light of a simmering bonfire just past the table, watch him

he just sits down and begins to eat.

its the best food he’s ever had, its his dad’s favorite dish, but not realistically, but the way memory embellishes a dish so much it can never be tasted again, except its right here. in front of him. u pour some wolfhook juice for him, and offer him a napkin to wipe his mouth and eyes

Diluc visits often after that, obviously.

u give him snacks too, and when he lets the staff try some, Adeline will not stop harassing him abt gettin ur recipes/ingredeints so u get him to pay Fischl to get a copy of their recipe book :)

including blank pages for future entries, and Fischl is literally glowing with happiness, would not stop monologuing abt ur food for weeks (send help Oz wants some peace and quiet sometimes)

Oh Diluc absolutely told the Favonius knights he found you. But he’s not saying where LMAO

Jean is actually begging him, Diluc ik u hate the knights but this is an international investigation-

this is the closest Diluc has ever gotten to getting under Venti’s skin.

when he told him this at Angel’s while bartending, he just casually ofc said this, just his smug little smirk, and the anemo god cracked a glass and everything- esp when he said he tried ur cooking??

he's gotta start looking over his shoulder in the city bc not only is Venti stalking him, the entirety of Mondstadt’s citizens are glaring at him in envy everywhere he goes LMAOO

(Venti now has a bar glass or too on his tab to pay off as well)

mans is literally paying u in weapon/artifact materials/mora to make him lunch one day and Venti nearly lunges over the counter

(Diluc purposefully ate it in front of him 💀)

ur food is the ultimate, “u could make a religion out of this!” /ref

like Diluc fully gives u offerings of ingredients he can pay for shipping from other countries + along with regular materials after grinding in domains

does the rest of Mondstadt + the world find out where u are?

only if Diluc lets them tbh. LMFAO

☆

bk trashfire my beloved <3 love ur ideas and stuff, goes without even saying im so sorry i took actually forever to respond :’(

hope u have a great weekend and i did this little side story justice for you

Safe Travels BK Trashfire,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡my beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[ak319]

Haii!, I really like your Arthur Morgan series and I've also read it several times and it's not boring at all!🫶🏻

Can I make a request? If so, can you make the reader jealous because Arthur is close to Mary Beth?🫶🏻 (Arthur and the reader's relationship is not platonic!)

(AN: Tsym! Remind me why we making Y/n suffer again? PS: I'm terrible at writing jealousy shit ngl and I legit dunno why. AND THATS LIT WHAT YALL KEPT ASKING FOR-😭☠) Hope yall enjoy reading lol)

Warnings/MDNI: None, just angst and then fluff to soothe your asses-

You were by the lake, lazily washing clothes. The day had you feeling sluggish, and the pleasant weather didn’t exactly help motivate you. The water was just the right temperature, cool enough to refresh but warm enough to keep you rooted in place. You should really pick up the pace, finish up, and grab some tea--or coffee--or a well-deserved break.

The faint hum of camp activity behind you was oddly comforting, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. That is until you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, quick and impatient, followed by a sharp curse.

“Dammit! I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, girl.”

You glanced over your shoulder, grinning as Molly stormed up to you, her face a mix of exasperation and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“For God’s sake, Molly, you know my Tuesday routine by now,” you teased, tossing a wet shirt into the basket beside you. “It’s not like this camp is big enough to lose someone. Honestly, I think you’re just bad at looking.”

She didn’t laugh. Not even a crack of a smile. Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with barely-contained frustration. You paused mid-scrub, a curious eyebrow raised.

“What’s gotten into you? You look ready to murder someone.”

“Oh, sure,” she snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Leave it to ever-so-clueless (Y/N) to not notice a damn thing going on around her.” She gestured wildly toward the camp as though you were missing some grand spectacle.

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “What the hell are you on about?”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she hesitated as if debating whether you were even worth the explanation. Then, with a dramatic huff, she took a step closer, glaring down at you like you’d personally wronged her.

“Let me spell it out for you. Do I even bother tellin’ you what’s happening? Or should I just assume it won’t make a difference because your ‘dearest cold heart’ won’t care? Or worse, you’ll just laugh it off like you always do!”

Your hands stilled in the water, the soap slipping through your fingers. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

"Y’know, what I just heard and saw?” Molly huffed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. “Mr. Arthur Morgan, having a chat with Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth! That same snake who’s all over Dutch, and now, apparently, your man, (Y/N)!”

Her voice rose with each word, and you blinked, caught completely off guard. She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I swear to God, she was asking him to buy her another one of those silly romance books for her lovesick brain. I mean, why Arthur, huh? Why doesn’t she go pester Kieran’s ass instead?”

Hearing her rant, you stood up, gripping the damp shirt in your hands as you processed her words. “Wh--sounds like a friendly chat to me, Molly,” you said, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “I mean, Arthur brings stuff for everyone. He goes out the most, doesn’t he? And, well, Kieran… he’s not exactly allowed far from camp neither he can afford anything right now. They still don’t trust him, y’know. And Arthur, he’s like a brother to Mary-Beth-"

“Don’t even start with that ‘brother’ shit, (Y/N),” Molly snapped, cutting you off. “It's just a facade.”

Your mouth fell open, heat rushing to your face at the implication. Uncertainty clawed at your chest as you tried to stammer a response, but she wasn’t done. Molly’s jealousy toward Mary Beth only seemed to fuel her fire, her words coming quicker now, sharp and biting.

“And don’t act like it couldn’t happen. You think she doesn’t see how kind he is to you? How he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching? Oh, she sees it. And she’d snatch him up the moment she gets the chance.”

You clenched your jaw, her words making you shift uncomfortably. Sure, you trusted Arthur, but the venom in Molly’s tone, the way her words seemed to twist around your insecurities, left you feeling just the slightest bit unsteady.

"Did he even say goodbye to you before he sprang into action?” Molly pressed, her voice softer now, almost pitying. “And the other day, weren’t you telling me you needed some cream for your hands? You even told him, and look, just look at your hands.”

Her gaze dropped to your chapped and reddened fingers, and you instinctively tried to wipe them dry on your skirt, as if that would somehow make them better. Her words were digging deeper now, clawing at something vulnerable in you. Did he forget to bring it? Or worse, did he not care enough to remember? Had your wishes, his woman’s wishes, stopped mattering to him altogether?

“This is bullshit, you should have run away with that pen pal of yours, to be honest when you had the chance,” Molly muttered, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you she’s after Dutch. And now she’s after both! I swear, those books she reads must be teaching her these tactics. Manipulative little-"

“I--y’know what?” you cut her off, your voice suddenly firm as your gaze drifted to the camp, your eyes narrowing.

“What?” Molly asked, surprised by your sudden shift in tone.

“Let’s just go,” you said, your voice laced with resolve.

“Go where?”

“Town.”

Without waiting for her to argue, you kicked the bucket of soapy water, sending it tumbling into the river, the suds spilling out and disappearing downstream. The laundry lay abandoned on the grass as you turned and marched toward the stables, Molly following close behind.

Damn everyone, then.

❀˖°

Arthur returned to camp, expecting to find you in his tent as usual. But when he stepped inside, the familiar space felt oddly empty. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Hey... um, Sadie?" he called out, spotting her near the campfire. "You seen (Y/N)?"

Sadie glanced up from sharpening her knife. "Oh, yeah. She and Molly went to town."

"What?!" The word escaped him before he could stop it, his voice louder than he intended. Clearing his throat, he muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and walked back to his tent, feeling heat rise to his face. He slumped down onto his cot with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You know how he felt about you going far from camp without him, even if you were with one of the girls. It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was fear.

And still you did.

There were too many dangers out there, too many things that could go wrong, and the thought of you out there without him stirred a storm in his chest.

It was 5 p.m., the time when you two usually sat together to talk about your day over supper. The time he looked forward to most whenever he was at camp. And now? He sat there, staring at the flap of his tent, the minutes ticking by painfully slow.

But what bothered him more was why you’d gone. And with Molly, of all people. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, he didn’t have a problem with her, not really. But something about the way you two were together always set him on edge.

He’d told you how he felt about it once. About how Molly seemed to lean on you a little too much, how her sadness and drama sometimes seemed to pull you down with her. But of course, you’d defended her, saying you couldn’t just turn your back on your best friend. That Molly found her only comfort in your company.

And you were right. He knew you were. But that didn’t make it any easier to sit here, waiting, imagining where you were and what could happen.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, his appetite gone. Instead of heading to the campfire for supper, he threw himself onto his cot, pulling his hat over his face in an attempt to block out the growing worry gnawing at his chest.

But even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the unease. Images of you and Molly wandering through town, far from the safety of camp, flickered in his mind. He trusted you, of course, but the world out there? That was another story entirely.

“Damn woman never listens to me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration and concern.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and even as he tried to rest, he knew one thing for certain, when you came back, this was a conversation he wasn’t going to let slide.

❀˖°

Arthur woke with a start, roused by Bill’s loud guffaw somewhere in the camp. With a groan, he rubbed his face, taking a moment to shake off the haze of sleep and piece together his scattered thoughts. Then it hit him, the memory of you leaving with Molly, and the worry twisted sharply in his chest again.

He pushed himself up with a sigh, his body stiff from the restless nap. Moving through camp, he glanced around, hoping, praying, to catch sight of you. But there was nothing. No sign of you or Molly.

He considered asking Dutch, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Dutch would likely know even less than he did, and Arthur wasn’t in the mood for meaningless chatter.

Back at his tent, he sat on the edge of his cot, pulling out his journal in an attempt to distract himself. The flap of the tent was open, giving him a clear view of camp, but his eyes kept flickering toward it, waiting for you to appear.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to eat, not until you came back, served the meal, and sat down beside him. That was how it went. That was how it had to go.

He was about to get up and go to find both of you himself when-

"Um, Arthur?" Abigail’s voice broke through his brooding. She appeared by the flap of his tent, holding a coffee pot. "There’s some coffee left, and I’ve got to wash the pot, would you like a cup?"

He shook his head, barely sparing her a glance. "Why’d they go to town?"

"Molly and (Y/N)?" Abigail tilted her head, her tone casual. "Oh, they’ve been back. Got back about half an hour ago. They’re in my tent, just hanging out."

Arthur blinked, first in shock, then confusion, which quickly morphed into anger. Half an hour? You’d been back for that long and hadn’t even bothered to come see him? Not even a word after being gone all day?

He shut his journal with a snap, the sound echoing his rising temper, and stood. The muffled chatter coming from Abigail’s tent grated on his nerves as he stalked toward it, each step heavier than the last.

What the hell was going on with you?

He cleared his throat outside the tent before pushing the flap open, only to find you and Molly sitting cross-legged, enjoying supper.

"Where were you? I was waiting for you."

You swallowed your bite, not bothering to look up at him. "Needed a few important things from town, actually, so I had to go."

Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Can you come with me? I want to talk."

"I’m already talking to Molly," you replied, your tone curt, still avoiding his gaze.

Damn it. Why the hell weren’t you even looking at him? That gnawing frustration in his chest boiled over. He had enough of this.

"I said, Come. With. Me." he demanded, his voice low but firm, the tone sharper than he intended.

Your head snapped up, eyes glaring at him with such intensity that, for a moment, he regretted using that tone. Hell, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him just a little.

"Oh, excuse me, Mister. Don’t you dare order me around like a maid, alright? I sit, talk, and walk when I want to. And right now? I don’t want to. Now go away, we’re busy."

Arthur ignored Molly’s taunting scoff, still fixated on you. Something about this--about you--just didn’t sit right.

"I’m sorry, okay? I’m just hungry. I was waiting for you... Can we eat now?" Arthur’s chest tightened, guilt creeping in. He rubbed the back of his neck, his anger softening. "...I was just worried as hell."

Hell, I still am.

But you didn’t let it go. "I’ve already eaten, and I didn’t ask you to wait for me. There are plenty of people around here you can share your meal with, Arthur. Plenty."

You turned your attention back to Molly, flashing her a rueful grin with your hair covering your face but he definitely caught it.

The Irishwoman gave you a knowing smile, her voice full of mischief. "Oh, girl, there’s always someone around."

This is how it's gonna be huh?

His first instinct was to walk away, but no. Arthur wasn’t the type to run from problems. With one swift movement, he grabbed your arm and dragged you out and behind the tent, just past the tree line. He stared down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation.

"What the hell is that all about?! And you know I hate it when you go out alone-"

"I don’t care! I don’t care anymore!" you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "I hate going out for some petty stuff too, which, by the way, I clearly asked you to get, and you forgot! I guess books are more important than me, huh?."

Arthur’s chest tightened. He rarely saw this side of you ever since you both got together, the frustration, the hurt, the coldness. "See, this is the problem," you continued, your voice rising. "When men find someone vulnerable enough to control, to fix, they get bored. Then they move on, find someone else to repeat the same damn cycle. Am I right?"

His mouth went dry. The words cut deep. But what hurt him the most was the thought that maybe... maybe you believed that.

He wasn’t asking for much, was he? Three meals with you, a cup of coffee, that was it. Simple things that made him feel like you cared. That made him feel loved. But you didn’t... or did you?

The silence between you two was deafening as he tried to process what you said.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur started, his frustration mounting. "See, this is why I don’t like when you and Molly-"

"Oh, no, no, no. Shush. Don’t you dare," you interrupted, your voice sharp, but there was a deep hurt behind it. "She’s always been right, Arthur. I was the dumb one. I’ve been working my ass off for you, and you didn’t even bother to say goodbye this morning, huh?"

Arthur froze, guilt beginning to gnaw at him. He wasn’t ready for this. "You know, I had a chance to leave this life, you know exactly who I’m talking about. But I didn’t. I chose you. But if I’m just gonna be sidelined like this? Nuh-uh. My ego doesn’t allow it. Nobody gets to disrespect me like that."

You took a deep breath, eyes blazing. "If you don’t want me anymore, then say it. Don’t play these stupid-ass games with me. I’m not Molly, not when it comes to this."

Arthur’s stomach dropped as the weight of your words settled in. He could feel the hurt radiating off of you, the betrayal that had built up. And now it made sense. Molly had probably warned you, just like she always did. He could almost hear her saying it a dozen times in the morning,

'Don’t let him treat you like that, they are all shit.'

"There is NOTHING like that, woman!" Arthur snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Is that what this is about? You’re ready to just forget, hell, even think like this over a misunderstanding?"

"Call it whatever you want," you replied coldly, not backing down. "But not gonna lie, the pattern makes sense now, Arthur."

He took a step back, trying to steady his breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Don’t say that... c’mon. You know it’s not true! She’s like a sister to me! For God’s sake, how can you even think--"

Without another word, you grabbed his satchel, the leather creaking in your grip, and flipped it upside down. A book slid out and thudded onto the ground.

Arthur froze, his eyes darting to the book, then to the scattered contents of his bag. He watched, his heart sinking, as you threw the satchel aside in disgust. "Bravo," you muttered, the bitterness in your voice sharper than a knife.

"Don't even bother explaining. I’m tired." You began to walk away, but before you could get far, Arthur grabbed your wrist.

"Don't you dare, no way you’re... sleeping away from me." His voice started strong, then faltered into a desperate plea, but you didn’t turn around. With a sharp jerk, you freed your hand from his grasp and continued walking.

Arthur stood there for a moment, his breath heavy as he watched you leave. With a defeated sigh, he bent down to gather the scattered contents of his satchel. Tilly approached, offering to help, but he shrugged her off with a tired wave and handed the book over to Mary-Beth, who was standing a few feet away, her face filled with guilt and sadness. His hand lingered in his pocket for a moment, pulling out the cream he had meant to bring you, adding it to the pile with a sharp scoff.

His posture was slumped, his movements slow and burdened. He didn’t need to say anything, his body language alone was enough to tell Tilly, Mary-Beth, and anyone else watching that this sulking would last for days, and you... you weren’t someone who accepted apologies easily.

❀˖°

And that’s exactly what happened. Arthur waited every day, hoping you would just come, sit with him, and listen. He longed for you to let him explain, to sort things out, so he could hold you in his arms again. Dammit. He missed you at night like a child misses their favorite doll.

But you weren’t just any doll.

You were his doll.

And when it came to you, he was nothing but a man-child.

Everybody knew his routine, the gang enforcer's routine. Simple, predictable. Come back, chat a little, handle his business, talk and eat with you, then the tent flaps closed, just the two of you, a world away from the chaos of the camp.

But now?

Come back, brood in one corner, pace to another, sleep with the flaps wide open.

Arthur’s mood soured every time he saw you doing something that wasn’t just being with him. Chores, errands, anything that took you away, even for a moment, made him restless, agitated. He needed you with him, in the tent, with the flaps closed, where he could hold you, even if it was just in the silence of the night.

Every night, he asked you to come with him. But you ignored him. Yet, he kept asking, unable to stop the desperate hope that you’d return, that you’d see it the way he did.

"Damnit. Damn stubborn ass woman." He grumbled for what? The millionth time? Sighing he petted his horse as it trotted at a leisurely pace, just a few meters from camp. How the hell had it all gone so bad? What was even the point anymore? Are you happy now?

His horse huffed as if sensing his despair, nudging him gently, but Arthur barely acknowledged it. The familiar sound of the camp in the distance only served to remind him that nothing was the same anymore, not the meals, not the quiet talks, and certainly not the comfort of his cot. That's it. This ends tonight.

He is going to carry you over his shoulder if that takes you to talk to him. To hell with your protests and stubbornness.

You were crouched down, sorting through vegetables with Abigail, your hands busy with the task at hand.

It wasn’t long before you saw Molly moving quietly, eyes darting back and forth, heading toward the girls' area.

You knew Molly. You had spent enough time with her to understand that when her instincts kicked in, she often acted before she thought. There was an impulsive streak in her, a tendency to let her emotions guide her steps, and that could be dangerous. Especially now, when tensions were already high.

Without much thought, you excused yourself from Abigail, your voice quick and unsteady. “I’ll be right back.”

You left her with the vegetables and slipped away from the campfire, your steps light as you tried to stay out of sight. Moving quietly, you found a small, hidden spot behind a tent, where you could just make out the faint sounds of voices, though you couldn’t yet hear clearly what was being said. Your heart pounded in your chest.

"(Y/N) and I were so close, in fact, like sisters, but you ruined that too! I don’t know what you told her-" Mary-Beth’s voice cracked, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual calm, polite tone she carried. There was raw emotion, maybe even a hint of fear, but more than that, it sounded like heartbreak.

"You did it! Just like you're trying to ruin my relationship with Dutch."

"Are you in your senses, Ms. Molly?!" Mary-Beth gasped, trying to defend herself. "How can you even think that?!"

The past few days, you couldn’t help but notice her glances at you, brief but meaningful. It was as if she was caught between wanting to reach out and not knowing if you’d welcome her presence. Her eyes would meet yours across the camp, filled with a mixture of concern and hesitation, as if she longed to approach, to console you, but the fear of intruding, of making things worse, kept her frozen in place.

You understood her hesitation. She was a kind soul, someone who cared deeply for those she loved, and in these tense moments, you knew she wasn’t sure how to navigate the space between you both. And neither did you try to clear the air.

"You and your pretty face are going to be your downfa-"

"Molly, enough." You stepped in, your voice firm. Molly turned to you, arms crossed over her chest, her face filled with frustration.

"(Y/N), don’t tell me you’re under her spell too, for God’s sake. She needs to get a reality check-"

"Molly," you interjected, stepping forward and gently taking hold of her arms. You guided her a few steps away from Mary-Beth, the tension between them thick. "Let me handle it, alright?"

"Don’t pity her, let me make that clear. Otherwise, you’ll be the one regretting it." Molly threw one last angry glance at Mary-Beth, shaking her head before storming off, muttering under her breath.

You stood there, a heavy sigh escaping you as you rubbed your forehead, watching Molly retreat. Turning back to Mary-Beth, who sat on the ground, you softened your expression. "I apologize on her behalf..." You couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. You knew you’d have to work hard to get Molly to let go of her anger, but that's for later.

"It's... alright, (Y/N)." Her voice croaked, and you didn’t miss the tremble in it, nor the quiet tears she tried to hide. Your gaze shifted to the book resting on the makeshift table in the corner. The one she had requested. You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat.

"You’re not reading it?" you asked, your voice gentle.

She looked up at you, shaking her head slowly. You could see the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, and it hurt to see her like this.

You walked over, picked up the book, and sat beside her. "Why not?" you asked softly. It caught her off guard, and for a moment, her eyes softened. She hesitated before returning the smile, albeit faintly, her sadness still lingering behind it.

"I am sorry... (Y/N), if you... if you misunderstood my actions, but I swear it’s nothing. There’s nobody else, except Mr. Morgan that we feel comfortable enough to ask for things... but if you mind it, then we won’t--"

"No. No. You can ask without hesitation, and I am sorry. I was quick to jump to... conclusions," you interrupted, your voice soft with regret. You hugged her, and she gladly returned the embrace. The warmth of her arms around you soothed the tension in your chest.

You placed the book gently in her lap and shifted your body closer, not wanting to break the moment. "I just... y'know... when I love someone, I do it fully. And I don’t tolerate when that gets disrespected, y'know? That’s one thing I will never forgive." Your voice trembled slightly, the depth of your feelings evident. "But anyway, do read it, and then we’ll have a chat about it. You know I love hearing you yap about your books more than reading them myself."

She chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of her old self, and you watched her face brighten as she held the book. You stood up, feeling a sense of relief, but also a lingering desire to stay.

"Definitely. But for now, I must go work too, don’t want Susan to bury me alive."

"You better." As you were making your way back to the kitchen wagon, a figure stepped in your way.

"Am I forgiven too?" His voice was teasing, but his expression was genuine. You deadpanned, folding your arms.

"Ummmm... let me think about it," you replied with a mock thoughtful expression, your gaze narrowing slightly.

He mirrored your posture, folding his arms with a smirk. "Not fair, woman. Not fair."

"I never said I was." You gave him a pointed look before turning to walk past him.

As you continued your walk back to the kitchen wagon, you felt a lightness in the air, a shift that felt... right. Arthur, still a few steps behind you, watched you quietly with an almost childish pout. There was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that told you he was waiting, waiting for you to acknowledge it all, to say what neither of you had dared to say yet.

You stopped for a moment, as you placed the cutting board, and turned to face him. The sunlight caught the edges of his hair, giving him a softer, not to mention the dark circles, giving him a more vulnerable look than you’d seen before. There was no teasing now, no masks, just Arthur, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time again.

"I’m sorry, too," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. "For the things I said."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don’t like it either. I swear, I’d rather fight a hundred men than have you angry at me. But..." His hand reached out hesitantly, as though unsure whether he had the right to touch you, to pull you close. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I apologize too...for making you feel that way. But I swear it wasn't in my intention."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. It wasn’t the grand gestures or flowery promises that touched you. It was the simplicity of it, the honesty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show. "Well then let me tell you that," you whispered back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not going anywhere."

With a relieved exhale, Arthur stepped forward, his arms wrapping around you firmly, pulling you into his chest. It was as though all the tension from before melted away, and in its place, there was just the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. "I love you," he murmured into your hair, the words so familiar now, but somehow more precious each time.

You nestled into his embrace, letting your worries fade for the moment, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I love you, too," you replied, your voice barely above a breath, but you meant it with everything you had.

"Y'know darlin'...I was very close to shootin' myself if I had to sleep on the cold bed any longer. It took strength to control myself and not drag you out-" You rolled your eyes and pulled away.

"Right, now go away, I have work to do."

"Absolutely not. To hell with these damn chores. You are coming with me."

You shot him a skeptical glance, hands on your hips as you paused in your tracks. "Really?" you said, raising an eyebrow.

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer, his broad frame encroaching on your space. "What do you think, darlin'?" he teased, his hands coming up to cradle your face, nearly squishing it with playful force. He gave your head a gentle shake, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s been too damn long. You’ve had me sleeping like a corpse for days. You cruel woman."

You tried to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in your chest, but his determination was infectious "Fine," you muttered, giving in more to his presence than anything else. He grinned, his hands reaching for you, pulling you effortlessly toward the flap of his tent.

"Atta girl." His voice held a triumphant edge, but it was softened with affection.

And finally, after days, the enforcer's tent flaps were closed at night--and so was the distance between you two.

(AN: Req/asks closed for now, guys :/ do keep in mind ur ideas and send once I'll announce them open)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Too big to care

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Remember the first time you used Google search? It was like magic. After years of progressively worsening search quality from Altavista and Yahoo, Google was literally stunning, a gateway to the very best things on the internet.

Today, Google has a 90% search market-share. They got it the hard way: they cheated. Google spends tens of billions of dollars on payola in order to ensure that they are the default search engine behind every search box you encounter on every device, every service and every website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Not coincidentally, Google's search is getting progressively, monotonically worse. It is a cesspool of botshit, spam, scams, and nonsense. Important resources that I never bothered to bookmark because I could find them with a quick Google search no longer show up in the first ten screens of results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Even after all that payola, Google is still absurdly profitable. They have so much money, they were able to do a $80 billion stock buyback. Just a few months later, Google fired 12,000 skilled technical workers. Essentially, Google is saying that they don't need to spend money on quality, because we're all locked into using Google search. It's cheaper to buy the default search box everywhere in the world than it is to make a product that is so good that even if we tried another search engine, we'd still prefer Google.

This is enshittification. Google is shifting value away from end users (searchers) and business customers (advertisers, publishers and merchants) to itself:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

And here's the thing: there are search engines out there that are so good that if you just try them, you'll get that same feeling you got the first time you tried Google.

When I was in Tucson last month on my book-tour for my new novel The Bezzle, I crashed with my pals Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden. I've know them since I was a teenager (Patrick is my editor).

We were sitting in his living room on our laptops – just like old times! – and Patrick asked me if I'd tried Kagi, a new search-engine.

Teresa chimed in, extolling the advanced search features, the "lenses" that surfaced specific kinds of resources on the web.

I hadn't even heard of Kagi, but the Nielsen Haydens are among the most effective researchers I know – both in their professional editorial lives and in their many obsessive hobbies. If it was good enough for them…

I tried it. It was magic.

No, seriously. All those things Google couldn't find anymore? Top of the search pile. Queries that generated pages of spam in Google results? Fucking pristine on Kagi – the right answers, over and over again.

That was before I started playing with Kagi's lenses and other bells and whistles, which elevated the search experience from "magic" to sorcerous.

The catch is that Kagi costs money – after 100 queries, they want you to cough up $10/month ($14 for a couple or $20 for a family with up to six accounts, and some kid-specific features):

https://kagi.com/settings?p=billing_plan&plan=family

I immediately bought a family plan. I've been using it for a month. I've basically stopped using Google search altogether.

Kagi just let me get a lot more done, and I assumed that they were some kind of wildly capitalized startup that was running their own crawl and and their own data-centers. But this morning, I read Jason Koebler's 404 Media report on his own experiences using it:

https://www.404media.co/friendship-ended-with-google-now-kagi-is-my-best-friend/

Koebler's piece contained a key detail that I'd somehow missed:

When you search on Kagi, the service makes a series of “anonymized API calls to traditional search indexes like Google, Yandex, Mojeek, and Brave,” as well as a handful of other specialized search engines, Wikimedia Commons, Flickr, etc. Kagi then combines this with its own web index and news index (for news searches) to build the results pages that you see. So, essentially, you are getting some mix of Google search results combined with results from other indexes.

In other words: Kagi is a heavily customized, anonymized front-end to Google.

The implications of this are stunning. It means that Google's enshittified search-results are a choice. Those ad-strewn, sub-Altavista, spam-drowned search pages are a feature, not a bug. Google prefers those results to Kagi, because Google makes more money out of shit than they would out of delivering a good product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/4/2/24117976/best-printer-2024-home-use-office-use-labels-school-homework

No wonder Google spends a whole-ass Twitter every year to make sure you never try a rival search engine. Bottom line: they ran the numbers and figured out their most profitable course of action is to enshittify their flagship product and bribe their "competitors" like Apple and Samsung so that you never try another search engine and have another one of those magic moments that sent all those Jeeves-askin' Yahooers to Google a quarter-century ago.

One of my favorite TV comedy bits is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator; Tomlin would do these pitches for the Bell System and end every ad with "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":

https://snltranscripts.jt.org/76/76aphonecompany.phtml

Speaking of TV comedy: this week saw FTC chair Lina Khan appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It was amazing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM

The coverage of Khan's appearance has focused on Stewart's revelation that when he was doing a show on Apple TV, the company prohibited him from interviewing her (presumably because of her hostility to tech monopolies):

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/apple-got-caught-censoring-its-own

But for me, the big moment came when Khan described tech monopolists as "too big to care."

What a phrase!

Since the subprime crisis, we're all familiar with businesses being "too big to fail" and "too big to jail." But "too big to care?" Oof, that got me right in the feels.

Because that's what it feels like to use enshittified Google. That's what it feels like to discover that Kagi – the good search engine – is mostly Google with the weights adjusted to serve users, not shareholders.

Google used to care. They cared because they were worried about competitors and regulators. They cared because their workers made them care:

https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/4/18295933/google-cancels-ai-ethics-board

Google doesn't care anymore. They don't have to. They're the search company.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

[wisteria-lodge]

If you're comfortable answering, how do you think JKR intended Draco to come across, and how did he actually come across in your mind?

I think Draco was intended to come off as a weak and kind of pathetic bully. The Dudley Dursley of the Wizarding World. 

That’s how we’re introduced to him: “Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.” Almost he first thing we hear Draco say is the very Dudley-ish -  “I'm going to drag [my parents] off to look at racing brooms... I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Later books re-contextualize this as a brag - he is not actually able to bully his father into buying him presents, and instead of Dudley's tantrums Draco likes to embellish things in order to seem more impressive and get the result he wants. But initially, I think Draco = Dudley. They both dislike people who are different, dislike Harry for being more special (and because they’ve been given tacit permission to bully him...)They’re spoiled by their parents. They’re even both platinum blonde. 

JKR loves the idea of an antagonist who realizes that they were wrong and *you were right* a little too late, and then has no choice but to punish themselves. (Basically the entire deal with Snape.) So - Draco and Dudley get some of that treatment too. After Dudley meets the dementor he breaks down, has a moment where he leaves Harry a cup of tea, and another where he says “I don’t think you’re a waste of space.” BUT Dudley’s initial breakdown is framed as pathetic (even a touch comedic.)The tea he leaves outside Harry’s door has gone cold, and when Harry steps in it he initially thinks it’s a dumb prank. Dudley says “I don’t think you’re a waste of space” only in response to a comment Harry makes. Hestia Jones is super unimpressed, and thinks Dudley should be doing more. 

Like, JKR is aware that it’s not *completely* Dudley‘s fault he’s like that. Dumbledore comments on the “appalling damage [Vernon and Petunia] have inflicted on the unfortunate boy sitting between you.” But the damage is still done, and Dudley is meant to be seen as a figure of pity. All this is supposed to read as ‘too little, too late.’ If Dudley were less of a coward, a stronger person, a better person, he would’ve brought Harry the tea directly. 

Now let’s look at Draco, who is given some *very* similar beats. We see him crying in the bathroom, comforted by Myrtle (a comedic character) very similarly to how Dudley basically goes into shock after the dementor. Draco and Dudley are both framed as weak, but able to see the error of their ways, and their breakdowns set up an important plot/character moment for Harry.

Draco’s little “I can’t— I can’t be sure,” when he’s asked to identify Harry at Malfoy Manor is another beat of ‘too little, too late.’ Harry takes Draco’s wand a few minutes later (absolutely castration imagery - just look at how the text treats Lucius losing his wand) and then Dobby shows up to low-key shame Draco by doing the job that he [narratively] was supposed to have done: rescuing Harry and friends, probably dying in the process. I do think that’s how we’re supposed to read that scene. And then Harry gets these very similar selfless beats of saving Dudley (from dementors) and saving Draco (from fiendfyre.) That’s why JKR is so baffled when people like Draco, think he’s attractive, or ship him with Hermione. It’d be like shipping her with Dudley, it doesn’t make sense.

But a couple things went “wrong” when Draco was released into the world. For one thing, I think a lot of people saw his more indirect underhanded approach (he likes rumors, smear campaigns, blackmail, poison, sneaky back entrances, tricking/provoking Harry into breaking rules) as evidence that he's clever, and not that he’s a cowardly, spineless little weasel.

Then because JKR is committed to making Draco look ineffectual and comedic, she also makes him… not that bad? Most of his bad behavior goes down between books 1 and 3, and I’m sorry - when you’re 12 your politics are your parents' politics. You are not not responsible for that. By the end of the series Draco’s politics *have* changed, pretty drastically, and they changed under challenging circumstances.

I also think JKR accidentally gave him a better relationship with his father than she meant to? Jason Isaacs plays Lucius Malfoy as cold, I could see him being a *bit* of a bully when it comes to Draco -  but in the book, they go on outings, Draco complains to his father, Lucius is patient with him, gives him advice, sets boundaries, sends him little newspaper clippings in the mail. Lucius and Narcissa are running around without wands during the Battle of Hogwarts looking for him, and it’s supposed to be like “here are the Malfoys defanged.” But it's just a sweet moment. And if you’re positioning Draco as a romantic lead, then yeah I’d say that “good relationship with his parents” is an attractive trait.

The movie also did Draco Malfoy a HUGE favor by saying that yes, he absolutely does have the Dark Mark. That is never confirmed in the book. You can make the case that he doesn’t have it, and he’s doing what he does and embellishing the truth to seem more impressive. Hermione doesn’t think he has it. Ron says “I still don’t reckon You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join.” If he doesn’t have the Dark Mark, Draco gets to stay a semi-pathetic minor villain. But the second he does have it… well now you have someone who was given this tattoo/brand thing the *moment* he turned 16 (Draco has a June birthday) and now is 100% stuck. He is on a magical leash to Voldemort. He can’t run, can’t hide. All he can do is ride out this thing as best he can, and hope it doesn’t kill him or his parents. That’s a much more sympathetic character.

And my last thing, about the moment where he lies for Harry in Malfoy Manor (movies frame it as 100% a lie, books keep it more ambiguous)... is I don’t think J. K. Rowling realizes that Draco is the first person in the entire 7th book who helps Harry, at all. Molly Weasley is actively sabotaging the Golden Trio's planning by splitting them up and making them do wedding chores. Xenophilius Lovegood betrays them, Bathilda Bagshot betrays them, Rufus Scrimgeor is no help, Remus Lupin needs *their* help, Dumbledore gave them a series of maddening riddles. Snape gives them a weird puzzle to solve (also he’s very much acting under Dumbledore’s orders…) So when Draco DOES put himself on the line to buy them a few minutes, it makes for a pretty striking moment. He also keeps to this lie even when Lucius tells him not to, he lies to Bellatrix, he is almost certainly going to have to repeat this lie to Voldemort, who can read minds… 

So I think most fans look at Draco and see someone who is arrogant, a little bit of a shit, but is also sensitive, clever, emotional, nonviolent. (He’s definitely got a little bit of boy band non-threatening sexuality going on.) Draco will go out on a limb for the people he loves, and he comes through when it counts. There’s a survivor-mentality practicality to him, which is especially appealing in a series where so many characters are so willing to martyr themselves.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 5

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit on the back porch, reading a book as you avoid the dingy tabacco laden walls inside. After claiming a couple slices of pizza, you quickly evacuated, your mom latched onto your guest like gum beneath a diner table. You're happy enough to be alone.

You just want it all done with. You want to be done with him.

Your mom just needs to do one thing. Get the trailer and be done with the man overdosing on his own ego. She's never been on to let things go, especially nothing like this.

The screen door opens and closes. You stay as you are.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Tony declares as he approaches. You look up as he stands behind you.

“What do you mean?” You close the book and stand, not liking how his pant leg touches your arm. You face him as his mouth slants, the silver in his goatee catching the dimming sunlight.

“Me. Gonna take you for another ride.” He rests his hand on the wooden railing as you stand on the step below.

“No,” you say bluntly. “I have work tomorrow so I need to go get ready for bed.”

“What’s the matter? If you don’t like pepperoni, you could’ve said something,” he tilts his head. "I thought you had extensive experience with meat... workong in a deli and all."

“Really? You know this isn’t about the pizza,” you sneer.

“I know what it’s about as well as you.” He steps closer and looks down at you. “It’s this.”

He swirls his finger between you.

You narrow your eyes and grimace. “This... what?”

“Sexual tension. It’s like a noose, isn’t it? I’m close to gagging.”

You glare back at him, “you really believe every woman on earth wants you?”

“I know it so let's stop fucking around just get to the fucking.” He winks.

You laugh. A snort then a scoff then a guffaw. “Wow, what a line. Look you can buy us pizza and replace what you owe us but I'm nor impressed. You city people think we're all just a bunch of trailer trash and maybe we are, doesn't mean we wanna be like you.”

“Oh, but you definitely want me,” he intones.

You sigh, “I want to go to my room and never see you again.”

“I like that. The hard-to-get thing always gets me going.” He gets closer and you lean away.

“The hard to stand thing doesn't do it for me,” you retort. “Thanks for doing the bare minimum but I'm over it. Either we get what you destroyed or you go back and laugh at your little mistake with your rich buddies.”

“You're sounding bitter, sweetheart. Why don't you let me give you some sugar?” He reaches for you and you dodge his hand.

“Please, quit that. I told you, I am not into it.”

“You aren't? Well your mom sure is. Yeah, we made quite the deal. She's going to get her trailer and an empty nest.” He puts his hands out in nonchalance, “what can I say? I'm a great negotiator.”

“What–”

“Well, I mean you're not going anywhere here. Working at a deli and for what? I told her, you don't gotta be stuck here. Eating off her table, living under her roof. You're an adult.” He crosses his arms and smirks.

Yep, that sounds like your mom. She's reminded you a billion times how you've burdened her with your existence, just as your grandmother does to her. And he plucked on that string until he hit a harmony.

“What did you do?” You ask.

“You make it sound like I did something wrong. Sweetheart, I'm doing you a favour. I'm getting you out of this pit. A girl like you, you can't hope for better because I'll tell you something, there's nothing out there better than Tony Stark.”

He preens in victory. You squint and clap the book against your leg.

“Come on, everyone should see New York at least once,” he tries to tap your nose and you evade him, but not entirely. Instead, he hits your chest and you feel a sudden constriction across it.

Your ripped up by your chest as metal expands and twists around your torso. You shriek as you fly upwards, encased in a cocoon the blocks out the wind. The propulsion of the suit has you disoriented and rattling.

You hear a whir and look over to see the marquee red and gold of the iconic Iron Man. Tony grabs you, your gauntlet caught against his like a magnet, and he zooms off onto sky, dragging you with him. You cry out as you can do nothing but flail.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he voice comes through the speakers built into the helmet, “you don't wanna pass out in this thing. Trust me.”

“What the hellllllll!” You holler.

“Just wait till you see that New York skyline,” he chortles.

Your disbelief paralyses you. How can he do this? Well, you can't stop him. He's been enabled his whole life and you've just become another pawn to his games.

[ladykailitha]

Love is Kind

All of the stories I was reading today were sad Steve and it made me cry so I wrote happy Steve to make me feel better.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

Jeana looked down at the purple water lilies in Steve's hand in distaste.

"Water lilies?" she asked, frowning. "Not red roses?"

Steve looked at her in confusion. "Yeah, your favorite flower in your favorite color."

"Yeah," she agreed, reluctantly taking the flowers. "But red roses are more romantic for Valentine's Day."

Steve went from wilting in disappointment to her reaction, to standing up straight with a spine of steel. "Oh I get it now." He took bouquet back from her forcefully. "Yeah, we're done."

Jeana's eyes went wide. "You're breaking up with me on Valentine's Day over a bunch of flowers?"

"No, Jeana," he said coldly. "We're done because you didn't tell me you wanted red roses. I assumed that the cheaper more personal water lilies would be the perfect thing for Valentine's Day."

Jeana winced.

"Ohhh..." Steve said, "I get it now. You wanted the Harrington money." He rubbed his fingers together. "Despite the fact that I work at a book store. That I told you when we first started going out that I had been kicked out."

Jeana rolled her eyes. "You still wore nice clothes and had fancy hair products in your bathroom, like I was supposed to believe that obvious lie?"

"I save for those!" Steve hissed. "I can't use anything else for my hair, I've tried. And yeah, so sue me for buying something nice once in a while."

She peeked around him to see the table was set with romantic candles and another bouquet of water lilies. "You weren't even going to take me out to eat?"

Steve tossed the flowers on the counter behind him. "Why else would I have you come here instead of picking you up?"

Jeana threw her arms in the air. "I thought you were supposed to be this Romeo, this Casanova."

Steve's nostrils flared. "Out!"

She stomped her foot and crossed her arms. "I'm not going anywhere until we talk this through!"

"There is nothing to talk about," Steve said, spinning her around and pushing her toward the door. "You were expecting me to shell out a shit ton of money on you, money you thought I was hiding from you. It's clear you were never interested in me, only the money and prestige the Harrington name brought you."

He opened the door and shoved her through it. "Goodbye."

He slammed the door behind her and gripped his hair tightly. Not enough to pull but just enough to feel pain at pressure of his tugging.

Now he had dinner that was about to be ready in ten minutes, no girlfriend, and a dessert he had slaved over all day.

He needed to call someone to share this with. Robin was doing Valentine's with Vickie so she was out.

Then his eyes lit up. He knew exactly who to call.

He walked over to the phone and dialed.

"Hello, Munson's Funeral Parlor, you tag 'em, we bag 'em," the warm baritone came through the line.

"Eddie!" Steve said with a giggle.

"Stevie!" Eddie greeted back. "To what to I owe this pleasure?"

"How goes your anti-consumerism night in?" Steve asked, avoiding Eddie's question.

"Eh..." Eddie said. "Could be better. I'm watching violent movies to make myself feel less lonely."

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. "I have a warm lasagna, fresh breadsticks, and a nice bottle of wine and suddenly sans a girlfriend if you wanted to have some company."

"What happened with Jeana?" Eddie asked.

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She didn't want me, she wanted the Harrington money, the King Steve charm, and a Casanova, not Steve Harrington who works at a queer little book shop in the middle of town."

"Well, fuck her," Eddie said. "Her loss. You bet I'll be there, sweetheart. Just give me time to put on my shoes and I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks, Eds."

*

Steve opened the door a few minutes later to find that Eddie somehow had found sunflowers in the middle of fucking winter.

“Where are on earth did you find these, Eds?” Steve asked, breathing in the scent of his favorite flower.

Eddie tapped his nose knowingly. He spotted the water lilies in the vase on the table and dumped them in the trash. He replaced them with Steve’s sunflowers.

“There, that livens up the place better,” he said, turning to Steve, “don’cha think?”

Steve smiled back at him. “Yeah it really does.”

He went and made up their plates as Eddie opened the wine. He set them down on the table while Eddie filled their glasses. Steve trotted back to the kitchen and pulled out the breadsticks that were warming in the oven. He put them in a nice basket a covered them with a towel. He set them on the table between Eddie and him.

“This looks fantastic, Stevie,” Eddie murmured and dug into the lasagna. “Ooh. This is better than fantastic. This is divine.”

Steve hurried to take a sip of his wine to hide the flush of pleasure at the compliment that dusted his cheeks. And judging from the smirk on Eddie’s face, he hadn’t been successful at all.

“So what were you watching before I interrupted you?” he asked, blush still staining his cheeks.

“Chinatown.”

Steve grimaces. “That is pretty violent. A little depressing too.”

Eddie shrugged, stabbing another bite of lasagna. “Was kind of the point. Didn’t want anything happy or romantic today.”

Steve picked up his glass and held up to Eddie. “I’ll drink to that.”

Eddie laughed, but clinked their glasses together and drank when Steve did.

They polished off all of the breadsticks, all of the wine, and about half of the lasagna. Steve put the leftovers in the fridge.

“You want a soda or something?” he called from the door of the fridge.

“I’ll take a beer if you have one,” Eddie called back from the sofa.

Steve grabbed two beers and handed one of the cans to Eddie.

“I thought you preferred bottles, babe,” Eddie said, popping open the can.

“I do,” Steve muttered darkly. “They were Jeana’s.”

Eddie cackled. “Here’s to stealing your ex’s shitty beer!”

Steve laughed too. “Cheers!”

Eddie went over to Steve’s record player and put on some Metallica he’d left over here and then flopped back on the sofa next to Steve.

“Thanks for coming over,” Steve murmured over the screaming riffs of Master of Puppets. “Rob is over at Vickie’s tonight and didn’t want to ruin her Valentine’s day, too.”

Eddie smiled softly. “And since I refuse to participate in the rampant consumerism of the day, there would be nothing for you to ruin.”

Steve chuckled. “That and you’re my best friend. I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d want to spend it with.”

This time it was Eddie’s turn to blush and he shoved a lock of hair in front of his face to hide the redness of his cheeks. He pushed playfully at Steve’s shoulder. “Fuck off. I’m sure there are lots of people you could have called that would have come running.”

“Rob was first pick,” Steve said, “you were second. I mean it, Eds. I wanted to share everything I’d done for her with you instead.”

Eddie’s blush reached his ears and stained the column of his throat. “You keep that shit up and this boy is going to start thinking impure thoughts.”

Steve blinked for a moment before he laughed. It wasn’t a harsh or hurtful laugh. It was bright and cheerful. “You put out on the first date, Eds?”

Eddie who was starting to think he’d taken it a step too far, stared up at Steve in amazement. He got his wits back fast enough to quip, “Only if they’re pretty enough.”

Steve ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck trying to hide his embarrassment. Well maybe that was the wrong word. Charmed. He was fucking charmed.

“You think I’m pretty?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie raised Steve’s chin with his finger. “The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, Stevie.”

Steve gulped. “And if I told you that I’ve had the biggest crush on you for so long?”

“Then I would ask why we aren’t dating, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, leaning in close.

Steve let out a shuddering sigh. “Because I didn’t think I was an option for you.”

Eddie half knelt on the sofa, cupping his face in his hands. “You are my number one option, honey. Just say the word and I’m yours.”

“Mine.”

Eddie grinned and then kissed Steve gently on the lips. He pulled back after a moment. “This isn’t just because you’re lonely on Valentine’s Day, right?”

Steve pulled Eddie onto his lap and brushed their noses together. “No, baby. She was only ever a placeholder for you. And a piss poor one at that. She never loved me for me. Not like you.”

Eddie chuckled. “And what makes you think I love you, pretty boy?”

“Because you knew I would be sad and brought me sunflowers.”

Eddie kissed Steve fiercely. “You are too clever for your own good, honey. Yes, that is exactly why I brought them. Because I didn’t want you to be sad. Because I wanted you to feel loved.”

“And I do,” Steve murmured. “I love you, too. So so much.”

“Good.”

They resumed kissing. It was darker. Deeper. More potent. Eddie could write songs and poems and books filled with the love he felt for this man and finding out that he felt the same.

All the bookstores and libraries in all the world couldn’t begin to fill the amount of pages Eddie would need to even try and convey how he felt in that moment.

But it could be summed up in one word.

Ecstasy.

Just pure ecstasy.

*

Robin wasn’t sure if it could be called a walk of shame when she had told Steve that she would be spending the night at Vickie’s, but walking into their shared apartment after the wild sex they had had last night she did feel a little silly.

She stopped short when she saw who was in her kitchen making breakfast in Steve’s track pants.

“Eddie?” she squeaked.

Eddie looked up at her with a grin. “Welcome home, Bucksters! If you haven’t eaten yet, pull up a chair and grab a stack of pancakes. I’ve made plenty.”

“You’re not Jeana,” Robin said stupidly.

“Nope.”

“Steve would never cheat,” she said, again trying to figure this out.

“Nope.”

“You two are a couple now?” Robin asked, her brain still in first gear.

“Yup!”

Just then a very sleep rumpled Steve came wandering out of his bedroom and latched on to Eddie. “I missed you.” He kissed Eddie’s neck.

Eddie kissed his temple. “Sorry, sweetness. I got hungry.”

“Mhmm..” he muttered. “Does smell good.”

“Morning, dingus.” Robin crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You want to tell what this is about?”

Steve looked over at her and gave her a dopey smile. “Jeana sucked. Only wanted the Harrington money and not me. Called Eddie over to make me less sad. He brought me sunflowers and made me very happy.”

Robin looked over at Eddie who half shrugged around a clingy Steve. “That’s the gist of it.”

“Got it,” she said. “I’m happy for you both.”

She grabbed a plate and pilled on the pancakes, with Steve releasing Eddie to do the same.

As the three of them sat down and ate Eddie’s pancakes, Steve smiled happily to himself.

He was with the two people he loved most in all the world and he wouldn’t change a thing.

***

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[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Can you do the Moon Boys with a reader who has a massive amount of knowledge about true crime and how various criminals often behave and common MOs of killers. I'm a criminal psychology major who's working to be a criminal profiler, so I tend to have a lot of knowledge like this. But people always find it weird that I know all these things and joke about why i might know all of these things.

I think it would be interesting to hear your take on how Marc, Steven, and Jake would react towards a partner who's basically a true crime and criminal psych encyclopedia. Maybe having someone like that helps them hunt down bad guys better.

Ooo this is such an interesting idea!

Moon Knight Boys x gn!Reader • Rating: 18 + pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Warnings: Murder, Khonshu, hit of sexy times, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 405

Steven Grant

Thinks it’s super interesting. I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again - Steven loves listening to people who are passionate about a subject, doesn’t matter what that subject is. If you’re interested in it, he’s interested. 

Definitely will ask your opinion about Ancient Egyptian murders.

Asks you to teach him some of your expertise so that he can help him figure out some of the drives/mindsets of the people Khonshu sends them after.

Makes a whole space in the shelves in the flat for you to store papers and books.

Will watch true crime shows with you if you want and complain with you about any inaccuracy.

Marc Spector

Playfully calls you morbid.

But listens to true crime podcasts all the time, doesn’t tell Steven or Jake about it, but finds some of them quite soothing for some reason. He doesn’t want to think about why in too much detail, but he’s pretty sure it’s to do with hearing how awful some people truly have been and that what he’s done under the direction of Khonshu (basically getting rid of these people) isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Doesn’t want you to help them on anything Moon Knight related, “that’s what he’s for.” *Gestures vaguely in Khonshu’s direction*.

Khonshu calls your work, “Interesting.” And Marc nearly throws hands.

Steven fronts only to tell Khonshu that he will find a banishing spell for the flat so that the god can’t step foot in there if he keeps this behaviour up. 

Jake Lockley

Basically gets you to do criminal profiles for him. But doesn’t like for you to be out in the action if you have no training. 

(Even if you do have training he’s a bit unenthusiastic. “I have the suit, amor, yes? Why don’t you get a suit from another god and then we’ll talk.” Marc: “Do NOT do that.” Jake (100% teasing): “They could be Ra’s, then we’d have a sun and moon thing going on.” Marc is about to burst a blood vessel.)

Ask you to analyse horror movie characters for him. Is very serious when you ask and utterly delighted when you do.

Threatens Khonshu very quietly if he brings you up when Marc and Steven aren’t around.

Has a bit of a thing for you explaining things to him and has to fight with himself not to jump your bones most of the time.

Thank you for reading!

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