#I love this being asked of me when I literally am a garbage person and this blog is my garbage can

[charliedawn]

Omg the vampires with a reader who had a petty fight with them so she won’t let them in the house now. Shes clearly having fun making them beg. Sitting there in the doorway taunting them and playing innocent.

(There has been a lot of controversy around the characters of Bert and Joan. I will make it clear right now. When I write about them, I will not associate them with the group they were a part of in the movie for obvious comfort reasons. With that said, enjoy. ☺️)

Mary

Mary looks the most annoyed—not because she is mad, but because she knows exactly what you are doing, and she cannot even pretend not to enjoy the power dynamic flip.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she hisses, tapping a perfectly manicured nail on the doorframe. “Just because I said you were being dramatic over your broken coffee mug—”

“Which was hand-painted by a person dear to me,” you cut in, mock-hurt.

She rolls her eyes. “You hand-painted it yourself.”

You huff. “And? I am dear to me.”

Mary crosses her arms, grinning despite herself. “You know, I could rip this door off its hinges.”

“But you won’t,” you sing-song.

Mary groans into her hands. “You are impossible.”

You smirk. “And you are still outside.”

She cannot help but smile and shake her head in disbelief. She knows you will eventually let her come in. It is only a matter of when.

Remmick

Remmick stands just beyond the threshold, his expression crestfallen—clearly not used to being denied anything. He is already on his knees with his hands joined—trying to convince you to let him come inside with pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“You’ve made your point, mo chuisle. Now let me in.”

You gasp, feigning shock. “Is that supposed to be a please? Because it sure didn’t sound like one.”

His jaw tightens. He’s ancient. Powerful. A telepathic vampire warlord. And yet he knows he has to ask nicely.

“…Please.”

You grin like a cat in sunbeams. “Hmmm. Maybe. Maybe if you say please with meaning this time.”

His eye twitches. He knows he needs to play humble here. He knows the sun will soon come out and he doesn’t intend to stay outside to greet it. The others behind him pretend not to smirk as he almost crawls. Everything to survive. Pride is not worth turning to ash over.

Bert and Joan

When you found those two, they were literally half dead. You saved their lives and since then they’ve been keeping you company. But, Joan and Bert decided to go hunting for a week without telling you. You were worried and when they finally come back…You decide that this is not okay and slam the door in their faces. Bert tries to convince you with sweet words. “You’re being hysterical, baby. C’mon. You know you love us. Let us in.”

Joan, echoing him, says, “It’s irrational behavior, sugar pie. Please. Do not let us stay outside.”

You slowly close the door just a crack. “One more condescending word and you two are gonna see if sunlight actually turns you to ash.”

Joan huffs. “We just want to talk!”

You grin. “You can talk. From out there.”

They both growl at you and you slowly flip them off before closing the door with a laugh.

Cornbread

Cornbread folds his arms at the door. “This is dumb. Lemme in.”

You smirk. “Nope.”

“Girl. I ain’t playin’. You’re playin’ with fire here.”

You shrug. “Maybe I’m cold.”

He scowls and warns you. “You’re gonna feel real bad when I burst into flames out here.”

You point to the overhang. “You’re in the shade.”

He scoffs. “Eventually, sun moves.”

You lean your head back lazily. “Then you better apologize before it does.”

He growls. “I hate you.”

You smile sweetly. “Aww. I love you too, Cornbread.”

He growls and kicks a garbage container nearby, but you aren’t giving in. Not this time.

Stack

Stack looks personally offended, hands shoved in his pockets, shifting awkwardly on the porch like he’s trying not to show how much he wants to come inside.

“So you’re just…gonna sit there and act like I’m not freezin’ my ass off out here?”

You tilt your head. “You’re dead. You don’t get cold.”

He scoffs. “That’s not the point, Y/N.”

You wink. “Exactly. This is about principle.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, I see you. Petty queen behavior. I respect it. I hate it, but I respect it.”

Stack understands. He doesn’t like it but, he understands. You are as stubborn as him and this is why he likes you so much.

Bo Chow

He steps forward just enough to hit the invisible barrier and taps it with two fingers. “This is stupid.”

“Is it?” you hum. “I think of it more like…divine comedy.”

He huffs. “You are…petty.”

You nod cheerfully. “Extremely.”

He gestures at your tea. “What’s in the mug?”

“Your dignity.”

Bo growls softly in Chinese and mutters something about ‘unfairness,’ then sits on the edge of the porch to brood in silence.

You lean forward, voice dripping with mock concern: “Aw, Bo…Don’t make that face. You could just say you’re sorry.”

He looks you dead in the eye. “I’d rather boil in the sun.”

“Then sit tight,” you chirp, raising your mug. “Sunrise’s in five hours.”

Annie

She’s standing just outside your door, arms crossed, her expression somewhere between exasperated big sister and the woman who will hex your entire bloodline if you don’t knock it off. “Mm-mm. I know you ain’t playin’ with the dead like this.”

You blink at her sweetly from your seat on the threshold. “Me? No. I’m just observing vampire behavior in a controlled environment. Very scientific.”

Annie raises an eyebrow so high it might summon thunder. “You sittin’ there with a blanket and some tea like you ain’t got a heart. I taught you how to make rosemary oil and how to fix your limp with pine when you got hurt. And now you got me locked out like I’m a stranger?” She huffs, looking up at the stars like she’s praying for patience. “You keep on with this foolishness, I swear I’m gonna plant gopher dust right at this threshold.”

You gasp. “That’s aggressive!”

“And yet effective.” She steps closer, hits the barrier, and flattens her hand against the invisible line. “Baby, don’t make me beg. I got too much dignity and not enough night left.”

Your grin falters just a little. She notices.

“And my husband’s spirit is whisperin’ that you’re about five seconds from me callin’ down every ancestor I got.”

You take a long sip from your mug. “…Are they bringing snacks?”

She narrows her eyes at you. But you aren’t worried. You know she’ll forgive you.

…

Eventually, the entire group is standing outside your porch like a pack of disgruntled supernatural cats, grumbling, squinting at the sun, and begrudgingly trying to charm, bargain, and guilt you.

You, of course, are basking in your power. One slippered foot over the threshold. A snack in your lap. Absolutely glowing with glee.

They’re seething, simping, and suffering — and you’re making them work for your forgiveness. You’ve turned vampire weakness into a personal power trip, and honestly? Iconic behavior. 

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Weird (M, cold)

Do you ever get such an insane urge to write something that you literally can't focus on anything else until it's done? Well, that was me with this fic lmao. HI here I am again, back with another Greyson cold fic bc I live to write the same thing one million times over. It's a big cold-denial drama-fest, my personal favorite lol. In it, Greyson gets sick on an important day and tries like hell to deny it. That's basically it! If ya read it, I hope you like it. It was a fun write.

CW: Male cold/snz, contagion, light mess, cold denial. I think that's it, it's pretty light for me lmao.

5K words under the cut. As always, I'd love to hear what you think! <3

Weird

Every year, Greyson looked forward to one event and one event only: Five Boroughs F&B Weekend.

Elliot’s, for being a small stand-alone, did a good number of events every year – from charity galas to full festivals, Elijah was near-obsessed with getting the restaurant in front of as many people as possible. Most of the events were, to put it lightly, complete and total nightmares; they didn’t provide you with food, or they gave you students to ‘help out’ which just slowed the entire process down. Once, at a huge New Orleans festival, Greyson had to cook 1,000 mini sliders on someone’s literal backyard grill. After that one, Elijah promised Greyson they wouldn’t do any more out-of-state events.

But the Five Boroughs weekend was always a fucking blast. Chefs all throughout the city got together to come up with their weirdest, chefiest dishes and the guests who bought tickets were the type of people who actually appreciated food. Not to mention the fact that there were three after parties – one for each night of the festival – with open bars that only closed when all the booze was completely gone. This would be Greyson’s fifth year at Five Boroughs and absolutely nothing could ruin it for him.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Reed said, backing away from his boyfriend. Greyson didn’t lower the can of Lysol he was pointing at Reed until the other man was clear across the living room. “Far endough?” Reed near-shouted from the Greyson-mandated fifty-foot berth.

“Honestly, I don’t think it is far enough,” Greyson said, spraying the can into the surely-already-infected air. “Maybe you should sequester yourself in your office.”

From the far side of the room, Reed deadpanned his boyfriend. “Are you fuckigg serious?” he asked, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. “I don’t even have a couch in mby office. Also, you already slept with me last ndight so…”

“I didn’t know you were sick last night.” Sprrtz, a spray of Lysol as Reed took a step forward. “You didn’t tell me you were sick last night.” Sprrtz.

“Could you stop with the fuckigg Lysol?” Reed asked, annoyed. “I’mb like half a mbile away from you.”

“Can’t be too careful,” Greyson shrugged. Before setting the can down, he gave one final spray in front of himself, a curtain of disinfectant mist that settled on the tile in a sticky puddle. Reed pulled his hand down his face, leaned into the wall, and sighed.

“This isn’t very ndice, you kndow,” he said. “I’mb always ndice to you when you’re si­ihh – hhITSZCHH-ue!” Reed snapped forward into his palm, then grimaced at the mess he’d apparently made. Giving his boyfriend a watery glare, he sulked to the bathroom in search of tissues. Begrudgingly, Greyson followed behind, grabbing the Lysol bottle on the way.

“I never claimed to be nice,” Greyson said, making eye contact in the bathroom mirror with Reed. From behind the tissue, Reed rolled his eyes.

“You are ndice,” he said, throwing the tissue into the tiny garbage can. “I mbean, ndot today. But usually.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh, let his boyfriend out of the bathroom. “Babe, I’m sorry,” he said, following Reed to their bedroom. “I’ll make you tea, I’ll bring you meds, whatever you need just… I cannot get sick for this event.” Reed, who Greyson knew understood where he was coming from, despite the pouting, gave a curt nod. He shivered then, an involuntary shake that gave him the appearance of a child left out in the cold. Poor Reed, Greyson found himself thinking; very little was more miserable than a cold at the height of summer, a time when his boyfriend should’ve been drinking spritzes on a patio while writing his latest review. He’d been running himself ragged at a new job with the New Yorker as their resident food writer, and it was a great gig but the man definitely wasn’t getting enough sleep, or enough sun, or – ironically – enough food lately, so of course he’d picked up some nasty bug. The timing certainly couldn’t be worse; with three days until Five Boroughs, Greyson was not only obsessed with not getting sick, he was also wildly busy prepping for the event. Reed had probably been coming down with something for days, and only now had Greyson noticed. Fuck.

Greyson set his teeth, lips pressed together, caught between the worst rock and the shittiest hard place he could imagine. Sighing, he set down the Lysol bottle and turned towards the closet that held the winter blankets they’d put away months ago.

“What are you doigg?” Reed asked. Greyson gestured to the bed that Reed was perched on the side of with one hand, the other cradling a fleece down comforter.

“Get in bed,” he said. “I’m only exposing myself to you for the next two minutes, so you’d better make it count.” Reed smiled a little; coughing into his shoulder, he burrowed beneath their thin summer quilt. Greyson unfolded the comforter and spread it across the bed. Against all his instincts, the chef cupped Reed’s face in one hand and kissed his forehead. “Tea?” he asked. “Your majesty?”

***

Something was off about Greyson.

It was day one of the Five Boroughs event – what was essentially his Superbowl – and he just seemed… weird. Quiet. Un-Greyson-like. Elijah had been with the chef for this event every year, and every year he was bouncing off the walls, unable to stop talking, and packed into the van two hours before they even had to leave. This year? Not so much.

“Chef, are you almost ready?” Elijah called from the front office. Greyson was in back with Matt, still, at twelve-oh-five, prepping the scallop sashimi they were presenting at that evening’s walk around event despite the fact that Elijah told him multiple times they had to leave right at noon. When no answer came from the back, Elijah groaned and stood. He’d throw on an apron if he had to, get everything sorted and packed for Greyson, whatever it took to get them out the door. C’mon, Grey, how long does it take to put some fish in a 100 pan?

“Grey, are you ready? We have to go,” Elijah called as he walked towards the back kitchen. Again – no answer. “Are you even back here, where the fuck-”

“I’m here, I’m ready,” Greyson called as Elijah rounded the corner. The chef put a lid on a final pan and pulled his hair to the top of his head, securing it with a Sharpie as he regarded his boss. “Sorry, just… running behind today,” he said, stacking the pans. “Matt, help me get these into the van. Please.”

The sous chef nodded and grabbed a stack of pans, while Elijah gave Greyson a confused look. “What?” Greyson asked as he moved past Elijah to get to the back dock.

“Nothing,” Elijah said, following behind them. “I just – are you okay?” he asked, prompting Greyson to glance backwards before placing the pans into the van’s trunk.

“Yes?” Greyson said, raising a confused eyebrow. “Why?”

“You’re acting weird,” Elijah said, crossing his arms. “And not like… normal you weird. Are you not excited for the event? This is usually like Christmas morning to you.”

Greyson pressed a hand into one of his eyes and rubbed for a moment before deciding how to answer Elijah. “I’m good,” he said, finally. “Just a little tired, I guess. I’m excited, I just need an energy drink or something.”

Elijah nodded. Let it go, he said to himself, though he was having the hardest time doing it. Something was weird, he could feel it, and Elijah knew to trust his feelings. “We can stop at a gas station or something on the way there,” he said, prompting a nod from Greyson. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Let me just grab a fresh coat, give me five,” Greyson said, pushing through the back door of the restaurant before Elijah could protest.

“...okay,” Elijah said as the door closed in his face. He turned to Matt, who was also strangely quiet today. “Did something, like, happen with you guys?” he asked. Matt looked up at Elijah and shook his head.

“No, boss,” Matt said. “All good.”

Elijah nodded, unconvinced. “Alright,” he said. “Thanks, Matt. Will we see you at the after party tonight?”

Matt smiled a little. “Maybe,” he said. “Depends what time I get out of here.”

Just as Elijah was about to answer, Greyson burst back through the door, buttoning up a new chef’s coat. “Okay, let’s roll. Fuck, it’s hot out here, why the fuck do they have this thing on the hottest day of the fuckin’ year?” He grumbled, slamming himself into the front seat next to Elijah. The GM said nothing, just nodded to Matt and closed his door. Turning the engine over and glancing briefly over at a sweating Greyson, he backed out of the alleyway. Something is off, he thought again as they drove away. What the fuck is his problem?

***

From the moment his feet touched the ground that morning, Greyson knew he’d caught Reed’s stupid fucking cold.

His head ached, his throat burned, and the buzzing deep in his sinuses, he already knew, was going to be an issue. Before Greyson could sneak out of their bedroom, he snapped in half with a volley of forceful, painfully-stifled sneezes. “NGTZCH! Hh-ITZCH! NTSH!”

Behind him, Reed tutted his sympathy. When Greyson opened his eyes, the tissue box that had adorned Reed’s side of the bed the last three days was at his side. Just shoot me, he thought, sniffling.

“Bless, babe,” Reed said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder. “Can I get you anything?”

At the care, the concern, the immediate knowledge his boyfriend had of his illness, Greyson felt himself bristle. Pulling away from Reed’s touch, Greyson pushed himself to his feet. He turned to regard the other man, hoping he didn’t look as miserable as he felt.

“I’m fine,” Greyson said, tossing the tissue box back to Reed’s side of the bed. “Keep them. I’m not sick.”

Reed cocked his head a little to the left, confused. “Okay,” he said, coughing into his hand and pressing himself to a seat. “Sorry? I mean, good that you’re not sick, obviously. Sorry for assuming.”

Greyson grunted, annoyed, and headed for the bathroom without another word. Immediately, he turned on the shower to the hottest setting he could handle and submerged himself. Fuck you, body, he thought, scrubbing his hair. We are not getting fucking sick today. He leaned into the water as it hit his back, then turned to press his face into it, hoping it might loosen the congestion he could feel building behind his eyes.

Tonight was night one of the Five Boroughs festival, and of course it was the night that Greyson had signed up to cook, to make a thousand portions of a dish and smile at guests all evening. To work all day and then drink all night, as was tradition – the first night was always the best one, the one that the celebrities and Michelin-starred chefs from around the country showed up to, and only the chefs who’d done the festival multiple times before were asked to cook for it. It was the first year Greyson had been asked to cook for night one of the festival; it wasn’t going to be the last.

When the hot water finally ran out, Greyson begrudgingly turned off the shower and stepped onto the cold bathroom tile. He regarded himself in the mirror; at the moment, he looked fine. The worst part about the start of a cold was how shitty, how run-down and exhausted he felt – the best part was that unless he said something, he was fairly sure no one could tell he was sick. The chef combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and patted cologne on. If he wasn’t going to feel well, he was at least going to look good. He scoured the medicine cabinet as well, swallowing as much Dayquil as his body could handle without gagging. That’ll have to do, he thought, quietly replacing the medicine.

Dressed and secretly medicated, Greyson left the bathroom in search of coffee and a clean chef coat, ready to get out the door before Reed could fully assess him. He opened the cabinet where they kept the coffee beans, and when he closed it, Reed’s face appeared.

“Jesus Christ,” Greyson said, jumping at the sudden appearance of his boyfriend. “What’re you, sneaking around the house now?”

“No, I’m not sneaking around the house, weirdo, I wanted some coffee too,” Reed said. Greyson noticed that – annoyingly – Reed sounded markedly better than he had the past couple of days. Apparently, the old wive’s tale about passing along a cold making someone better held true – at least in this house.

“Oh,” Greyson said, pouring the beans into the grinder. “Yeah that makes sense.” He sniffled a little then, an involuntary action that made Reed raise his eyebrows. Greyson said nothing; just filled the coffee pot with grounds and started the machine.

“Are you excited for tonight?” Reed asked, thankfully avoiding the subject that had already set Greyson off once this morning. The chef shrugged.

“I’ll be excited when it starts,” he said, rubbing the back of his own neck. “Still a lot of work to do this morning.”

Reed nodded slowly, clearly thinking. “Is it still okay if I come tonight?” he asked as Greyson poured coffee into a thermos. “I mean, is my name still on the list and everything?”

“Mmhmm,” Greyson hummed. “Yeah. It starts at seven.”

“I remember.”

Greyson grunted again, closing the top to his mug and grabbing the pressed chef’s coat Reed had left for him on the back of one of their bar stools. “I gotta get going, babe,” he said, leaning down to kiss Reed’s cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Greyson,” Reed stopped his boyfriend just as the chef was about to head out the door. “You’d tell me if you weren’t feeling well, right?”

The thunk of Greyson’s heart into his stomach was so intense, he was surprised Reed couldn’t hear it across the room. Normally I would, Greyson thought, though he wasn’t sure if that was true – he thought back to his time with Collin, all the times he was ill or upset, all of the times he reached out just to be tossed aside in return, then pushed the thought away. Reed wasn’t Collin; Reed actually gave a fuck about him. But he couldn’t miss this event, this day that he waited for all year long. Whether he would or he wouldn’t under normal circumstances, for now, Greyson gritted his teeth and lied to his boyfriend.

“Of course I would, babe,” he said, forcing a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

***

“If this is how you’re going to act all night, I’m going to kill you by the end of this thing.”

Looking up from the plates he was arranging, Greyson gave Elijah a furrowed-brow look. “What are you talking about?” he asked, annoyed. The GM closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing.

“You’re being fucking weird, Greyson,” he said, punctuating both fucking and weird by slapping a hand onto the setup station between the two of them. “You’ve barely said a single word to me all afternoon, and everything you have said has been you being annoyed with me. The fuck did I do to you? I feel like I’m in a fight with a fucking wall.”

The chef pressed his lips together, his face betraying nothing. Elijah took a deep breath in through his nose; this was supposed to be a fun day, and though he knew he was being petulant – childish, even – in demanding Greyson enjoy it, he couldn’t help himself. They so rarely got out of that fucking restaurant; they really ought to be enjoying themselves.

“Do you want a beer or something?” Elijah asked before Greyson could say anything. “Help you loosen up? Are you nervous about the whole being-here-night-one thing?”

Greyson swallowed compulsively, gave a little wince. What was that? Elijah thought, but before he could mention it, Greyson spoke up.

“Yeah,” he said, turning back to his plates. “A beer would be great. Thangks, Lij.”

As he went to walk away, Elijah’s ears perked up. Was he…?

“Are… are you sick?” the GM asked, turning back to face the chef again. Greyson’s face flushed.

“Ndo,” he said, congestion lacing the word. Greyson cleared his throat quietly – though loud enough for Elijah to hear – and shooed his boss off with a hand. “I was promised a beer,” he said, attempting a smile. Elijah chewed his bottom lip, but nodded and walked towards the bar. An illness really would explain everything – the annoyance, the quiet, the lack of enthusiasm – but since when did Greyson hide being sick from Elijah? Maybe when they first started working together, back before they knew one another – but now? Now Greyson would walk into the office and cough directly into Elijah’s face just so he wouldn’t be alone in being sick.

Maybe he wasn’t, then; maybe he was just in a bad mood. Greyson hadn’t mentioned anything going on at home with Reed, but Elijah knew his friend’s boyfriend was working a lot lately, and Greyson certainly didn’t do well when someone he loved didn’t have time for him.

As he arrived at the bar, Elijah smiled at the kid standing there, who handed him two shitty light beers from a cooler behind him. Handing the kid a twenty, Elijah turned on his heels and headed back towards their booth, silently wishing that Reed would be able to make it to the event tonight. Maybe that would get Greyson out of his mood.

When he returned, two beers in hand, Greyson was facing away from him. “Here’s your beer, princess,” Elijah said, placing it on the serving-side of their booth. Greyson didn’t turn. “Hellooo, did you hear-”

“NGGTSH!” Greyson’s whole body shuddered, the sound he made both choked and desperate. Elijah wasn’t sure if it was a sneeze or a sob or a laugh or something else entirely. He raised an eyebrow, picked the beer back up, and walked around to the other side of the booth, where Greyson’s hand was pressed against the bottom of his face.

“Bless you…?” Elijah said, handing his friend the beer. Greyson grabbed the beer with his unoccupied hand, roughly rubbing his nose back and forth with the one he’d just sneezed into.

“Thangks,” he said, chugging half the bottle on first drink. Elijah gave Greyson a look. “What? I’mb thirsty,” the chef said.

“Uh huh,” Elijah said, sipping his own beer. Without thinking, the GM reached up to touch Greyson’s forehead – an instinct, after all their years spending nearly every day together. Greyson stepped back to avoid the touch.

“Don’t touch mbe,” he near-growled, pointing the bottle at Elijah. “I’m already hot and in a shit mbood. Don’t piss mbe off by mother-henning mbe, too.”

Ah, Elijah thought, pressing his lips together and lowering his hand. “So you are sick,” he said, taking another sip of his beer. Greyson rolled his eyes.

“I’mb ndot sick,” he said, convincing no one. “I said I’mb hot. Because it’s fucking hot in this fucking conference roomb because it’s fucking hot outside. Okay? Yes, I’mb annoyed. I’mb trying to keep a hundred pounds of scallop cold on a hundred degree day. I don’t wandt to feed Thomas Keller or fuckigg Zendaya or whoever shows up to this thing tepid sashimi. So I’mb in a mood. But I’m ndot sick, and I’m ndot acting weird so please just drop it, Lij. Okay? I’mb – NGTZCH!” Greyson directed this poorly-stifled sneeze into his elbow, sniffled wetly immediately after. Elijah sipped his beer.

“You were saying?” he asked as Greyson stood to his full height again. The chef chugged the rest of his beer, slammed the bottle on the table, and pointed at Elijah.

“Fuck off,” he said, “and go get mbe some mbore ice.”

This time, Elijah didn’t prod further. He put his beer down, raised his hands in front of him as if in surrender, and said, “Yes, Chef,” before turning to walk towards the conference center’s kitchen. As he filled a bin with ice, he could feel his teeth grinding together in frustration. So much for a fun day out.

***

Whatever it was Greyson usually found fun about this event, he couldn’t for the life of him remember.

He was in the fucking weeds; he hadn’t sliced enough scallops back at the restaurant because he was too busy dipping into the bathroom every five-fucking-minutes to blow his nose, and now he was so behind that people had started skipping their booth altogether. Elijah, for all the shit Greyson had given him earlier, was the only one pulling his weight on their two-person team; he was stood at the front of the booth laughing and chatting with guests, while behind him Greyson sliced and plated to order like it was his first time ever doing a festival.

Eventually, he pulled himself out of the muck and the wave of guests slowed to more of a river, and Greyson was actually able to look up from his food and survey the event around him. There really were a ton of recognizable faces out there – from Food Network celebrities to institutions in the industry, it was a who’s-who of food-famous people that Greyson was embarrassing himself in front of. The chef ducked under their booth, the three seconds of rest he’d given his body apparently enough to get it to rebel against him immediately.

“NTSHH! Hh-! IGTSZCH!” Greyson attempted, once again, to stifle the sneezes into submission, succeeding only in making his own head spin. God, this was getting old. From behind him, Elijah grumbled a bless you under his breath; Greyson set his teeth to keep from snapping at his friend.

“You sound awful,” Elijah murmured, not turning towards Greyson. “You’ve sneezed like ten times in the past five minutes.”

“Mbaybe if you weren’t counting the ambount of timbes I’ve sndeezed, I wouldn’t sound awful,” Greyson muttered, standing. “Ever think of that?”

“I think, maybe, if you just let yourself sneeze like a normal human,” Elijah said, glancing over his shoulder, “you wouldn’t have to sneeze so many times. Hmm?”

Greyson rolled his eyes and turned back to the food. “I don’t have timbe for this conversation,” he said, plating another portion and handing it to Elijah. “Leave mbe alone.”

They continued like that for another thirty minutes or so, speaking only when Greyson had food for Elijah – food behind – or when he had to duck under the table – bless you, Chef – until finally, Reed stepped up to their booth.

“Reed!” Elijah exclaimed, stepping out from behind the booth to hug Greyson’s boyfriend. Greyson, preoccupied by plating, didn’t turn around.

Side-stepping the hug as graciously as possible, Reed gave Elijah an apologetic smile. “Lij, it’s so good to see you. Sorry, I would hug you but I’ve had a bitch of a cold all week. Wouldn’t want to get you sick.”

At that, Greyson bristled; for a moment, he stopped in his tracks. Fuck.

“Ohhh,” Elijah said, turning towards Greyson just as the chef peered over his shoulder at the other two men. “So that’s where he got it.”

Reed’s eyebrows knit together, confused. “Where who got what?” he asked. Beside him, Elijah gave Greyson a sidelong look.

“Grey?” he asked. “Did you have something you wanted to tell us?”

As if it wasn’t humiliating enough to be slicing his scallops basically to order, wasn’t embarrassing enough to have to turn guests away because he was so damn slow today, now Elijah was going to out him as sickly to his boyfriend in front of a gaggle of famous chefs. Greyson’s head throbbed in time with the music being canned in overhead; he whipped around and got as close to Elijah as he could without touching noses.

“Do you really thingk,” he whispered, voice low and husky, “that now is the timbe for this conversation?”

Elijah was unphased. “I really do,” he said, crossing his arms. “You’ve been an ass all day. You’ve sneezed yourself hoarse, and you very clearly have a fever. I think the least you could do is fucking admit that you’re sick.”

Just as Greyson was about to snap back at Elijah, Reed walked closer to the booth and addressed his boyfriend. “Babe?” he said, worried. “Shit, did I get you sick?”

The gut punch that was the upset in Reed’s voice nearly knocked the wind out of Greyson. He looked so sad, so genuinely concerned, that the chef immediately forgot what he was going to say. “I…” he started, before having to dip back behind the booth for the millionth time. “HTSZCHH! NGTSZH-uh!”

“Well,” Elijah said from above him. “There’s your answer.”

Rubbing his nose on the back of his hand, Greyson stood and turned to face his boyfriend and best friend. “I’mb okay, honey,” he said, ignoring Elijah completely. “It’s ndothing.”

Before Reed could reply, a new wave of guests made its way over to Elijah and Greyson’s booth; immediately, the drama between the two of them was forgotten as they once again took up their front and back of house positions, making and passing out food. By the time Greyson was once again out of the metaphorical muck, Reed was nowhere to be found. While Elijah was busy schmoozing a guest, Greyson pulled out his phone to see a text from his boyfriend.

I’m sorry I got u sick :( I wish you would’ve told me, baby. I could’ve at least brought you some medicine.

Guilt and shame tore through Greyson’s body as he clicked his phone back off. I’m such an ass, he thought as he returned to plating. Such a fucking stupid ass.

***

“So, when are you planning on admitting it? Because I’m honestly starting to get annoyed.”

Elijah handed Greyson a glass filled to the top with bourbon as he got back to the booth they had snagged the moment they got to the afterparty. Grateful, Greyson snatched the glass with one hand, while the other flew to his mouth.

“NGTSZCH-uhh! Hh...HRTSCH-oo!” The rough attempt at a stifle nearly spilled his drink, and lead to a fit of sticky coughs; Elijah grabbed the glass back from his friend, held it until Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand and sniffled, fruitlessly. Shot the chef a knowing look. “Alright,” Greyson muttered, taking the glass back and knocking back half the bourbon. “I’mb fuckigg sick. Happy?”

“Mmm. Happy? No, not particularly,” Elijah said, sipping his own drink. “But certainly satisfied.” “Whatever,” Greyson said, rolling his eyes. “You’re an ass.”

Elijah barked out a laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “An ass who’s always right.” Greyson huffed out a little laugh, too, careful not to laugh hard enough to start coughing again. “You gonna admit the other thing, too?”

Greyson raised an eyebrow. “What other thing?”

“That you were being a dick today. That you were, in fact, being weird.”

Another eye roll from the chef, this time one that ended in a wince of pain. He rubbed an aching eye with his palm, musing. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I guess I was.” Greyson sighed, before slamming the rest of his drink. “I just… this is the only evendt I really care about. Y’kndow? I wait for it all year. And tondight was supposed to be...different. Better than this.” His second palm met his other eye, rubbing until Elijah started seeing stars on his behalf.

The GM blew air through closed lips, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Grey,” he said as Greyson finally pulled his hands from his eyeballs. “I know you were really looking forward to this. I mean… shit happens.” He shrugged at Greyson, whose head was perched on his hand, elbow on the table. “It was still a great dish. No one complained. Despite your best efforts, it was technically a successful event.”

Greyson laughed in earnest, punctuated by more coughs. “Thangks, Lij,” he said, grabbing Elijah’s mostly-full drink from his hand and slamming it before his friend was able to comprehend what was happening. “Can always coundt on you to mbake mbe feel better.”

“You dick,” Elijah laughed, elbowing his friend. Suddenly, Greyson stopped laughing, turned away from Elijah.

“Huh-!” he lifted an elbow to his face and pitched forward with little warning. “HuhhETSCHHH-ue! HUHHESHH-ue! Hh-! Hh...HRRSHHH-ue!” Finally, after an entire day of trying to hide it, Greyson let out three painful-sounding, throat-scraping sneezes. “Fuck,” he said, attempting to clear his throat. “God, I feel like fuckigg shit.”

Elijah tutted his sympathy. “Well, if it makes you feel better, you also sound and look like fucking shit,” he joked. Greyson choked on a chuckle.

“Least I’mb consistent,” he mumbled. “God, I have to go hombe and apologize to Reed, too,” he groaned. Elijah furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why would you have to apologize to Reed?” he asked.

“I lied to himb,” Greyson said, pulling a hand down his face. “He asked if I was sick this mborning, and I lied to his face.”

“So you have to apologize to Reed for lying, but not to me,” Elijah said. Greyson gave him a pointed look.

“Correct,” he said. “I actually lied to you just for the pure pleasure of it. The thrill of the gambe, as it were.”

This time, it was Elijah’s turn to choke on a laugh. Just as the two men recomposed themselves, Matt – who apparently did have the time to make it to the afterparty, despite his non-answer to Elijah earlier – snuck up on them and slid into the booth. “There you guys are,” he said, placing his drink on the table in front of him. He glanced at Greyson’s sallow face and grimaced. “Did you finally have to admit it?” he asked his boss.

Once again, Elijah burst out laughing. Greyson, not nearly as amused, deadpanned his sous, grabbed the man’s drink, and for the third time that evening, chugged. “Hey-!” Matt protested.

“Mbatt, you have ndo idea the evening I’ve had,” Greyson said, slamming the glass onto the table. “Ndow go get your ailing boss andother fuckigg drink.”

Matt rolled his eyes, but scooched out of the booth and headed towards the bar nonetheless. When Elijah finally recomposed himself, he regarded Greyson with bemused concern. “Do you really think you should be drinking so much… sickie?” He asked, elbowing his friend once again.

“Hondestly, boss,” Greyson said, rubbing his nose, “I do. I really, really do. HGTSHHH-ue!”

[genderqueerdykes]

Really appreciate this blog and what it shares. Got into an arguement with someone who was a transfem TIRF (didn’t realize that was even a thing at the time lmao) and it left me feeling really upset due to the both gross ways she’d talked about trans men and the fact that she got a lot of support in the notes. So coming here and seeing in fact most people love and care about us transmascs is nice.

Won’t argue again next time I see an account like that cuz it’s kinda obvious people in those circles are prolly not getting out but yeah.

i am so sorry you had that experience. i'm glad you're advocating for yourself and choosing to not argue with that person again.

i honestly refuse to socialize with a person when i see them be that openly hateful with no attempts to change. i stopped talking to one of my old roommates after he started saying all kinds of transandrophobic shit, shitting on transmascs bodies and calling them gross because he's "gay" and could never be into vaginas or breasts. my ex (trans)gf literally fucking yelled at me for not wanting to be his friend after this. like actually fucking yelled at me numerous times. i asked her if she would be comfortable staying his friend if he was transmisogynistic toward her and told her her body was disgusting, and she said yeah of course, as if somehow that wouldn't cause her pain. nobody gave a flying fuck about how transandrophobia affects transmascs, so i said fuck all of you and stopped being their friends.

there are so many people who have gladly jumped on the rad fem train and it's so sad. that's no way to live your life. that's such a hateful ideology. rad feminism is nothing but hate. it's hate for yourself for being a woman because you equate womanhood to suffering. it's hate for other women because they're not women "right" like you are. it's hate for transmascs and trans men. it's hate for nonbinary people. it's hate for genderfluid people. it's hate for trans, nonbinary, genderqueer, genderfluid, gnc, bi, & pan lesbians. it's hate for butches who are men. for TIRFs in specific, it's hate for other trans people because they're "trans wrong". rad feminism is hatred all the way down no matter how you look at it. rad feminism will never be productive or progressive. it's about wallowing in your misery, mining for sympathy and pity, and crying about how you're powerless and defenseless instead of doing something about it. it's admitting defeat.

as a fellow transmasc, i'm just over it. i'm not gonna stew in self hatred. i had a friend who WAS transmasc who basically forced me to hate myself for being a trans man. always going on and on about how they hated certain transmascs and trans men, how they were "Whiny and entitled"... yikes dude. you can keep hating yourself over there, but i genuinely love being transmasc & a trans man. coming out as a trans man literally saved my fucking life. i was a depressed mess that hated myself before i came out. i've never loved myself more. and if someone else can't love what i love about myself? they're not worth my damn time.

i'm not here to throw transmascs under the bus just to kiss up to transfems to try to look progressive for brownie points. that shit is underhanded and dirty. we can support all trans people at once. we aren't football teams. you don't have to pit random queer identities against one another. we're on the same side. none of us are enemies. none.

thanks for taking the time to stop by! take care of yourself, i'm glad that i could help in any way. i am just OVER people forcing transmascs and trans men to hate themselves and exist solely to talk about trans women and transfems and nothing else. i am just over people making men and mascs feel like shit. it's done. it's over. i'm not participating, and neither are you. pack that shit up into a box, and throw it in the garbage. we're working together whether or not you like it. the only way we get out of this is together. our fight for liberation is NOT a crab bucket- you do NOT have to pull someone else down when you see them rise up and advocate for themselves.

[emo-trash101]

Hello dearie!

How's your day?

Yes,yes,I'm back already,I know!

It's just that I just love your writing,and you said that you'd let me ask whenever so,here I am!

You already know me,so let's just get to the ask!

May I have any Hazbin hotel character (only Hazbin,but any character you want to write for! Only preference is Alastor- If you could write multiple that'd be great,but that's up to you,honey!) with a Platonic!GN!Friend!Reader that gets talked a lot behind their back (maybe by fake friends or just random people),but they know about it,and when the characters ask about it,they just say "It doesn't matter" or something along those lines? Would they stop the people talking behind their backs? Would they get angry? That's up to you!

That's all for me! I hope you enjoy writing this as much as my last one!!

Stay proud, don't forget to take care of yourself!!

-Nina <33

OMG YIPPEE YOUR BACKK!!! You can always spend time in my requests, because I love writing them! But definitely, and I absolutely love this concept!

Angel Dust, Alastor, and Lucifer x Bullied! Reader

!Platonic relationship!

Pronouns: Second person, gender neutral

Tw: Shitty friends, Alastor in general

Angel Dust -

- This man gets it to absolutely no degree.

- Like he absolutely has had friends who were untrustworthy and just garbage human beings.

- That being said, this would likely become a conversation after you get him to hang out with your other group of friends. Y'all probably clubbing or going to a bar.

- After awhile you go to use the restroom which leaves him with your garbage other friends.

- Then they start talking to him, trying to get him to agree that you're annoying and whatever other bullshit they try to spout.

- Angel (being the loyal puppy he is) immediately starts to tear your friends a new one for being such asshats. He continues yelling at them until you get out of the bathroom.

- He immediately starts telling you what they said, still glaring at them aggressively. And he is hardcore shocked when you just respond with "It's fine"

- Cause like bitch, no it's not.

- He is definitely very appalled, and ends up dragging you out of there and giving you a slightly aggressive pep talk on your self worth and being worth more than shitty friends.

- in all, he tries to love and support you, but sometimes he's really sure you were dropped on your head as a baby.

Alastor -

- I am being as honest as possible when I say this man most likely has no experience when it comes to this.

- Like he deals with annoying assholes by just plain killing them. There, problem solved.

- You probably brought your friends to the hotel to try and introduce them to everyone, and during this time they seemed sweet as peach cobbler. But Alastor definitely picked up on their hidden intentions.

- After you walk away (Charlie definitely dragged you away to help with something), he sneaks up on them and makes them his newest addition to his radio station. After all, he can't be having people hurting his little pet (I swear this man is a literal red flag, run.)

- When you return he doesn't even really mention it to you, he just tells you your friends "Went home early"

- Safe to say you never saw those friends again.

- In all, probably the most efficient when it came to his approach.

Lucifer -

- As I mentioned in a previous post, Lucifer is definitely a people pleaser. He tries to constantly help people and make excuses for them.

- However, when he sees his loved ones (*cough* you *cough*) being used it's another situation entirely.

- He most likely meets your friends by accident, just walking through the streets of hell with you when you run into them (spending time without you).

- Y'all actually have a really good conversation before you realize you forgot something in the last store you were in and run to go grab it.

- After you leave one of your friends makes a really ill intended joke about you being forgetful, and lets just say that Lucifer did not take that kindly.

- He immediately yells at them for a good couple of minutes, and then leaves to go find you after deciding they were not worth anyone's time.

- He brings up their comments to you and after you just brush them off he doesn't get mad per-say, just really sad that it's happened so much it doesn't even affect you.

- In all, he tries to just keep you busy and away from them as much as possible, because at least you have someone who thinks you're amazing.

This was really relatable while I was writing it, and I just wanted to say if any of y'all are being treated like this by anyone just cut them off. They are not worth your energy and time.

[bitemevanitas]

Vanitas No Carte

incorrect quotes

1) Vanitas: Dante has no survival skills, his need to win has replaced them.

Johann: That cant be true!

Vanitas: Watch this.

Vanitas: Hey Dante, race you to the bottom of the stairs!

Dante: *Throws himself out a window*

•

2) Johann: I have issues.

Dante: Finally, you admit it! The fırst step to redemption is accept

Johann: With you.

•

3) Johann: Are you guys bringing anything to the party?

Jeanne: Yeah, an empty stomach!

Vanitas: My sparkling personality.

Dante: A flagrant disregard for common decency?

Noé: ...

Noé: Chips.

•

4) Vanitas: Yeah, I'm a false prophet, but you believed me, so whose fault is it really that we're in this mess?

•

5) Noé: You use emojis like a straight person.

Johann: That's literally the worst thing anyone has ever said about me.

•

6) Dominique: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Vanitas and Jeanne's convo?

Johann: Me. I'm in the laundry basket.

Dante: I'm in the washing machine.

Noé: Im in the closet.

Johann: We accept you Noé. <3

Noé: No I'm literally in the closet.

Johann: Love is love. <3

Noé: ...

•

7) Vanitas: I never understood why people cared so much about their dumb friends until | got a dumb friend myself.

Vanitas: *Turns to look at Noé*

Vanitas: I've only befriended Noé for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him | would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

•

8) Dominique: Is this gaslighting? Am | being gaslit?

Veronica: Domi, if | were gaslighting you, you'd never know it.

Dominique: Is THAT gaslighting?

Veronica: Shut up.

•

9) Vanitas: You're giving me a sticker?

Luna: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying "me-wow!"

Vanitas: I'm not a stupid kid.

Luna: Fine, I’ll take it back..

Vanitas: No, I earned this, back off!

•

10) Noé: So, I've organized your messages into three categories..

Noé: "From Vanitas".

Noé: "Death Threats".

Noé: and "Death Threats From Vanitas".

•

11) Vanitas: What are you in the mood for?

Jeanne: World domination.

Vanitas: That's a bit ambitious.

Jeanne: You are my world.

Vanitas: Oh.

Jeanne:

Vanitas:

Jeanne:

Vanitas: OH.

•

12) Dominique: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.

Noé: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to his knees and sob while apologizing profusely*

Dominique: That one. | want that one.

•

13) Vanitas: Here are two pictures. One of them is your bedroom, and the other is a garbage dumpster. Can you tell which is which?

Noé:

Noé: This one is the dumpster.

Vanitas: They’re both your bedroom.

•

14) Vanitas: Jeanne is playing hard to get.

Vanitas: Little does she know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

•

15) Noé: Hey.

Vanitas: Hey?

Noé: I cant sleep. :/

Vanitas: I can. Goodnight :D

•

16) Dominique: Crushes are the worst... Whenever I'm near mine, | start acting stupid.

Noé: But you always act stupid.

Noé:

Noé: Wait a minute...

•

17) Vanitas: You got a date yet Jeanne?

Jeanne: No...

Vanitas: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

•

18) Johann: Ugh, there's always that one weak bitch in the group who isn't down with murder.

Johann: *side-eyes Noé*

Noé: Well, sorry I have morals!

•

19) Noé: You use humor to deflect your trauma.

Dominique: Awww, thanks!

Noé: That's not a good thing...

Dominique: All I'm hearing is that you think I'm funny.

•

20) Jeanne: I still have no idea how I'm attracted to you...

Vanitas: Yeah, well, you're stuck with me, and no take backs, darling.

•

21) Vanitas: There is no future. There is no past. Dont you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every fact.

Noé: ...All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake fırst.

Vanitas: ....

•

22) Vanitas: I want to kiss you.

Jeanne, not paying attention: What?

Vanitas: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

•

23) Vanitas: You disgust me.

Dante: *eats a kitkat sideways*

Vanitas:

Dante:

Vanitas:

Dante: I realize this and don't care.

•

24) Luna: You know, there's something weird going on with your face?

Vanitas: What?

Luna, super happy: You're smiling! I didn't know you could do that?

•

•

•

25) Vanitas: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Noé: Vanitas no.

Jeanne: Mistlefoe.

Noé: Please stop encouraging him.

•

26) Vanitas: I was arrested for being too cool.

Jeanne: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

•

27) Vanitas: *Gets down on one knee*

Jeanne: Oh my god, it’s finally happening.

Vanitas: *Falls over*

Jeanne: The poison is kicking in.

•

28) Vanitas: Am I going too far?

Dante: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

[sephirthoughts]

Unpopular opinion ask game: 💛

(from this ask game)

💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?

Oh there are ever so many. i usually keep my mouth shut because i don't want to yuck anyone's yums or draw aggro from crusaders, but this is an unpopular opinion game sooooo

WARNING: UNFILTERED OPINIONS UNDER THE CUT

The one that i think burns my ass the worst is Cloud/Tifa, mostly because the game and fandom tries so hard to shove it down our throats. In the FF7 games, there is this blatant assumption all through the narrative that "of course the player is into this girl" which instantly makes me rebel against anything in any game, especially when it's heteronormative bullshit.

cyberpunk was the worst, when they tried to force me to like that leatherfaced blow-up-doll panam, who was so egregiously written by misogynist cismales, that i nearly quit the game. the grossly overt assumption the game made that i the (obviously cishet male) player would automatically be into her led to me abandoning her dirt nomad questline and never going back. i checked later, they just stand around in the desert waiting forever if you don't go back.

the problem with tifa is very similar. hetshippers always like to try and carve out a moral highground for their "canon" ship, by acting like it's misogynist not to like the female love interest in a game. i have news for you, babes, i don't have to eat garbage just because it's labeled organic.

a female character designed and written in a lazy, misogynist way is the same. consuming that fictional relationship uncritically is not something i am required to do, nor will i. the women in final fantasy games, for the most part, are badly written, terribly designed artifacts of a time when women were just objects and that was ok to say out loud. they're hardly even trying to hide it, now, but at least they are a little.

my theory on tifa's design is that the otaku devs had never seen a girl irl and when they tried to make one, what they came up with was a pair of massive tits and the personality of a wad of dryer lint. then they gave her some tossed together martial arts to justify why she's following cloud around taking up a party slot, instead of staying at home minding the children and elderly like a good girl.

also the business with her and aerith seeming to get catty and jealous over cloud several times (which they mercifully cut from remake) is such revoltingly juvenile and misogynist writing, it's almost funny. almost.

honestly the whole romance they are pushing between cloud and tifa is revoltingly juvenile and misogynist, since she's a personality-free prize for the male hero, not to mention homophobic, since it primarily seems to function as a beard, so sephiroth and cloud don't seem too gay (MISSION FAILED).

Cloud Strife is a character with whom i deeply connected and fully inhabited, and he is not a heterosexual neurotypical male in any way whatsoever. and yet i'm supposed to like seeing him shoved into the blandest wish-fulfillment, 'winning the titted-up tomboy hometown girl as a prize for being awesome' fantasy that some chuuni would've written in the back of their school notebook when they were 11. please.

examined fully, there's literally no reason for the pair to be romantically interested in one another, outside the pervasive and poisonous heterosumption of boy+girl=love. and i know what people are going to say about them being friends, but she doesn't like him. she never does. she likes the idea of the person she thinks he should be, and persistently tries to force him to become, throughout the series. she thinks the way he is needs to be fixed, because he's wrong somehow. we can still see it happening in advent children.

that's fine though, because he doesn't like her, either. he kind of remembers her from the past. that's all. he does not have the capacity to form that kind of attachment, when they first reconnect, and by the time he could form a meaningful connection with someone (circa advent children), he's already been fully railroaded into the domesticated role everyone has decided he's supposed to be in, and she is reduced to a nagging wife, by the writers. he is very clearly unhappy, and it's not because of sephiroth.

last but not least, is the lack of any kind of romantic tension between them. there is more chemistry between cloud and biggs, than cloud and tifa. hell there's more chemistry between cloud and those alley cats. it's very clearly a manufactured relationship for the sake of gratifying the decreasingly cishetmale player base of yesteryear.

in conclusion, cloud x tifa is the cold oatmeal of ships and i just want to spit it out yack

[mrs-monaghan]

Hello Shaz

I would love to hear your opinion on 3D and all the talk around it

My thoughts on the talk around it is; "wow, well this is a load of garbage" (no offence to any friends I may have who don't like the song I just disagree that its a terrible song)

Alright. 3D. Let's talk. My thoughts. First, what's with the fucking homeless trousers??

I hate rich people 😭😭😭😭 if I wear this people will wonder why I didn't go back home to change after I fell in mud 😪

Anyhu, before i even say a thing. We should probably all try to remember that JK said this

(Thanks @chicknbunny13)

Yeah sure, even if he doesn't write a song, he may resonate with it. But not everything he does is a reflection of his actual life. This one, is for the Jikook antis btw. This is why my anons are still off. People, I dont have the energy for antis rn. JK sang 'girl' so what? This topic is super old and tired and consider it officially retired from this blog. I'm sooooo over it 🥱🥱🥱🥱

Now that we have that out of the way let's tackle the fact that our JK is a grown, grown adult. I don't need to bring back the live where he told people he's an adult and he is almost 30 and he will do what he wants to do. And if he wants to sing about this, that's exactly what he will sing about.

Oh my,

Even Jimin knows all about it

Tweet

BAHAHAAHAHAHA!!!

Let is be known i am choosing to take that sentence literally. I think JK just means him, the girl, with champagne and confetti. I really don't think it means anything else here. But, seeing as this is another sex song, I won't put it past him.

Anyone else notice a recurring theme here?

Okay then. 😳

Also shout out to this random kid with the horse

I can't be the only one who has no clue what his point was 😂😂😂

While we are on the champagne topic,

I mean....

Make no mistake, SEVEN and 3D are singing about the same thing. If SEVEN was in your face, 3D is subtle. But they are both just talking about sex here. Which is why it doesn't make sense to me why people are so upset??? As a person who likes Harlow and has heard his songs before, this did not shock me one bit. There is nothing wrong with this song. It is meaningless and shallow but guess what, thats the type of music the GP is listening to rn. I understand why Asians have an issue with this line

And I can respect that. I don't have to understand it, but if Asians say its offensive, then its offensive. In which case I think that's just ignorance on Harlow's part. The people behind the song and JK himself are not going to okay something degrading. So it is of my opinion that people are reading too much, way too much into something that aint even meant to be deep.

It's a song, about sex. The only thing deep about it, is the holes that will be getting penetrated.

This song doesn't require to be analysed. Okay, maybe when trying to decipher the analogies being used but that's it. JK has one agenda and one agenda only; release music that the general public will devour, get his name out there and be a huge pop star. And it is working.

Cue Boracity's new video about each member and who their target audience are for each solo project

JK did not write these songs. If he did I'm sure they would have more meaning. But that's not what he's aiming for rn. Right now the man just wants to put out something that he knows will sell. Wants to put out something that will be a hit. And 3D is exactly that. Just like SEVEN. Mans was asked for the meaning of the song and by his answer, I'm not sure even he knows.

What??

Did anyone understand that???? If you did, break it down for me coz I did NOT understand that 😂😂

This song has no meaning. Its shallow, catchy, easy to remember and move to. Enough with trying to complicate shit! It ain't that deep. Period.

JK cared more about the choreo.

While Jack is calling himself a whore for wanting 4 women, JK is busy dancing throughout. So I will listen to JK and enjoy the song and choreo. Because there is nothing in the lyrics and there was never intended to be.

Idk why y'all mad when we stan a consent king:

Personally I dont have time to be angry because 1) i see no reason to be, and 2) i am too busy admiring JK's body proportions 🤤🤤

Damn, Jimin's man is hot!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[creampuffqueen]

8 and 18 for the ask game!

choose violence ask game

8 answered here!

18. It's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

i know y'all have got to be tired of me yapping about the avatar novels but i CAN'T STOP THEY'RE TOO GOOD

so. broad answer: literally every character in the avatar novels

specific answer: yun, the false avatar

i feel like i only see him brought up in two scenarios: shipping and powerscaling

as i've already discussed. i am so fucking tired of powerscaling

but i feel he's so underrated for his STORY. like i think the tragedy of his character is on par with certain other tragic characters from the main series, like azula. yes, azula

like just think about it. here you have this kid who grew up with basically nothing. no family, no funds. when he was found at around 14 he had no family to speak of and was getting by through running scams on people to make money. overnight he is thrust into the most powerful and influential position in the world. overnight he goes from nothing to everything.

and then, after having the world at his fingertips for years, it's all ripped away from him in one fell swoop. he is discarded like garbage by the person who he had come to see almost like a father. just. tossed aside. in the span of an hour he goes from everything to nothing.

i'm so deadass i can't think about yun for too long or i start tearing up

his role in the story, in kyoshi's story, is incredibly influential. because the thing is, one might expect that it would be necessary, within the narrative, for kyoshi to go and claim her rightful title as the avatar from him. that yun, being the "false avatar" wouldn't be able to do the job

but that isn't what happens at all. yun would have made a great avatar. he was smart, strategic, charismatic, powerful. he was trying to do things right. for a while he was succeeding

which makes it all the more tragic that everything is stripped away from him

so, i just think yun deserves more love and more appreciation. not only is he very powerful and talented when it comes to bending, he's such an interesting character that is, frankly, slept on

[k-tarotz]

how come theres so few stories of people having dated an idol? i can ask through reading what itd be like with xyz idol but id have thought by now that more people who have actually dated an idol wouldve given their experiences on it or is there too much backlash if they do speak about it? i know ndas are to protect the idol but how long do they last and dont they have to renew an nda even after they stop dating or hooking up? im sure some idols have broken a few hearts along the way so yeah im surprised that there arent legimate stories of someones experience with an idol. considering how much fake rumors there are about them.

Hey anon, I wanted to answer sooner but tumblr was down for me. It’s always down at the most unfortunate times indeed.. I had to rewrite this twice bc they can’t update it properly 🙄 Anywaysss…

I am pretty sure that the biggest reason we don’t see a lot more people coming forward with dating k-pop idols is quite literally because it’s their private life.

As in, both the idol’s and the person’s private life. They quite literally do not owe us anything, not a story time nor a hint. [Although I would like to say I find it quite annoying when people do story times about an idol without mentioning the name because you can always tell they are lying.]

It’s not that idols don’t date non idols, they do, some also have quite a preference for it even. I am sure idols date people like youtubers, make up artists, office workers, baristas and so on because at the end of the day they are human too. It’s not that idols don’t date idols, but it’s just that there have been several cases of idols dating non idols with regular jobs like you and I. It’s just their private life.

I do remember someone younger than I, a rookie idol, being “caught” dating a classmate by a saesang (ew), GOT7’s JB dating a youtuber and I am pretty sure Taecyeon from 2PM has a non celebrity partner who he is protective over: so we do not know anything about the person really, but their relationship is quite serious I assume.

To be frank with you, I don’t know how NDAs work, my assumption is after the first one expires and you are still in contact with one another you have to sign another one.

Regardless I don’t think that’s the only thing holding people back from telling whether or not they have dated an idol.

Firstly, come to think of it, who would believe you if you owned up to dating one? Let alone if the person is popular. Even if you have proof it can be faked easily, and delusional k-pop fans who feel entitled to their bias’ love sure as hell will accuse you, no matter if you genuinely tell the truth or not. The “fans” who view these idols as dolls, as objects to control and play along with sure as hell won’t give you the grace of treating you with respect. Treating you as if you were a human. So, knowing you will be treated like this, who the hell would want to own up to it unprovoked? And who knows, your ex might see it and find it embarrassing that you go around bragging that you dated them at once. That is humiliating enough on it’s own too.

Aside from that, we have to keep in mind that these people don’t just date idols to brag about it later on. At least, I assume most don’t. Otherwise they would be a piece of garbage.

Regardless, if an idol chose to date someone, anyone, regardless of their status, the person would need to be incredibly trustworthy. Even when they just hook up with people. They are not dumb, they can tell when you look at them as a human vs as someone you have a fantasy about rather than choosing to see them as their real self.

So with this in mind I am sure that when an idol x non idol starts to date it’s genuinely because they fell in love with each other not because they want to brag. At the end of the day, both sides are human. They date to be able to talk to the person, show them love and look after them. Not to break up 6 months later and gossip about the person. [Funfact, wealthy people are actually way more likely to do this to you unless they have manners.. and a lot don’t lol]

If they date an idol, that’s a whole different story though.

They both know to not publicise it without the both of them agreeing, how the industry works, know each others history better and actually have a lot more chances of seeing each other around. [If you see idols break up bc of not having time for each other they are lying 99% of the time.]

In my eyes it’s like dating someone from your school vs waiting to become an adult and meet someone who you can connect with on a mature level you know? It will either work out, or it won’t.

Either way I agree with what you said, I do think there are a lot of idols who have broken hearts along their idol career. It would be weird if there wouldn’t be.

Just like you can tell there are idols who are completely pure. Never dated and inexperienced due to whatever belief or experience they have. I think it’s funny when people say there are none because they are grown but at the end of the day some could choose to be protective over their body. That’s completely okay too! People act like it’s a shame when it’s not. In my experience though, there are a lot more hos in the idol industry than you would think 🤧🤧🤧 [I am not sorry for saying this, some of these people are NASTY]

To put it short, a lot of idols date and we don’t know about it because quite honestly it is none of our business.

Hope I didn’t come off as cold or anything y’all, this is just the way I speak fr.

– Candy

[they-lived]

20 questions for writers

@theblueeyedfirebender THANKS FOR THE TAG FRIEND I LOVE YOU LOTS 💙💛💙💛💙💛

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

41! (And an additional 37 on ffn 🤪 for a total of 78 just cause I was curious what 11 years of a hobby produces)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

782,267… holy crap 😅

3. What fandoms do you write for?

On my page you’ll find fics for Dragon Age (2 fics), Resident Evil (3 fics), Baldur’s Gate (2 fics), Until Dawn (2 fics), Critical Role (1 fic), Fullmetal Alchemist (6 fics), and Yuri on Ice (25 fics)!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Bloom in the Dark (Yuri on Ice)

Сонечко - Sunshine (Yuri on Ice)

What I Wouldn’t Do (Yuri on Ice)

Truth (Yuri on Ice)

Four Hidden Talents of Yuri P (And His Hidden Achilles Heel) (Yuri on Ice)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I used to not respond because on ffn you pretty much had to dm people to do so which felt weird (especially because I was 11-17 on there and did not want anyone knowing that fact even tho it was pretty obvious in hindsight) but now I respond to almost every comment I get! Fandom is a shared experience and I want to communicate more!!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Lessons I Learned From Loving You Alone (Dragon Age) ~ Loghain’s wife had a really tragic life in my brain and I leaned in HARD

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I almost always do angst with a happy ending but I think the happiest is a toss up between Сонечко or As The World Begins to End (which is my resident evil meets pride prejudice and zombies mash up)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I wouldn’t call it hate necessarily but weirdly I get a lot of discourse around Yuri P being Ukrainian but like… I have always written him this way and I always will lol. It’s a part of my brand at this point. For the most part they’re pretty tame comments tho

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep! Most of the time I use sex as a way for characters to express their indescribable inexplicable connection or just to explore a couple in their most intimate moments. I love smut with funnies too so I try to throw that in there… also yes I do write porn without plot just because I want to lol.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not really. Closest I got to was As the World Begins to End, which is Resident Evil in a similar world as Pride Prejudice and Zombies, but the zombies and lore were still RE based. It was more inspired by than anything else.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Back in the day someone wrote a fic “based on” one of mine but they just changed the names and nothing else. I still laugh about it because like… what an odd thing to do.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yup! Into Portuguese, Japanese, and Russian! It was very cool and they were so nice!!!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope but I’d be down!

14. What is your all-time favorite ship?

Don’t ask me that my stomach hurts (it’s probably Everlark or Jasper or Otayuri or Royai don’t make me choose~)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I never say never but golly it’s been hard to keep writing I Will Carry You idk why I really lost steam on it. I also have a fic I’m literally 25 pages deep into that was supposed to be a bit fic that I have not posted but WANT TO FINISH SO BAD

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m super good at eliciting the specific niche emotion I’m looking to express and hitting the exact topic I want to address. When I want something to be heightened and funny I nail it, when I want something to be bone deep nostalgia I’ve got it. That part is really fun for me personally.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I. Hate. Describing. Scenes. And. Action! My theater of the mind is pretty garbage so when I have to exposit what something looks like I cannot for the life of me enjoy it. My brain shuts off and on autopilot I go.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Even though I am bilingual I still get nervous doing this. Mostly because I’m smol and embarrassed but also because I really have to decide what the purpose is. I love having multilingual characters I grew up on the border between the us and Mexico and I have constantly been surrounded by multilingualism and generally think it’s dope. But I prefer to write the dialog in italics if it’s in another language so my audience can immediately understand what’s going on and have the full picture. If I don’t want them to know what’s being said I simply gloss over it lol

19. First fandom you wrote for?

*Glances wearily at my self insert Harry Potter fic I wrote when I was 12 and had the audacity to post on ffn* … uh… Hunger Games

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Changes by the day honestly but the top 5 are as follows in no particular order:

- As the World Begins to End (p&p will ALWAYS take me out you guys)

- Сонечко (the way I trauma dumped in this one is still so raw and so relevant. The fact that family and love really does win OUCH)

- An Ode to the Daughters of Darkness (first and only attempt at a more poetic style and some of it really holds up)

- Idioms and Idiots (idk I feel like I could turn this into a whole novel it’s wholesome and funny I smile the whole time I’m reading it I love her)

- Long May You Reign (I have reread this bitch so many times since she’s been posted I love the chaos the funnies and the feels. Idk man I just have an insatiable craving for Royai to be parents and this makes me laugh while writing it)

Tagging @masterdisastre @lou-is-lurking @kaleidodreams @weeheilandcoo and anyone else who wants to ✨✨✨✨

[jerktournament]

ROUND ONE - Byakuya Togami (Danganronpa) VS Yesod (Lobotomy Corporation/Library of Ruina)

(The contestant image for Yesod is from Lobotomy Corporation, but this entry is for both renditions of the character.)

!!! PROPAGANDA BELOW !!!

BYAKUYA: "- His title is literally, get this, "ultimate affluent progeny" - Fucking look at him /hj - Treats everyone as inferior in every way, even when they're trying to solve a murder he goes "how did YOUUU figure this out before MEEE???? >:0" - Constantly has an "Me vs. Them" mentality about everything so he feels the need to prove himself to be superior - Messes with crime scenes because it would "make them more interesting" (purposefully incriminating someone else, who he didn't like) Actual quotes by him - "I'm only here to get breakfast. I have neither need nor desire to talk to you. Now withdraw." - "You're like a child lost in the woods, you know that? A total waste of space." - "You know, I still just can't believe it... That an uneducated, brain-dead, useless piece of garbage like you has survived this long." - "You have only yourself to blame—you came to me with your tragic little story. I didn't ask you to. This is the real world, not some romantic fantasy fairytale.""

YESOD: "AAHGH HOW DO I EVEN BEGIN TTHERE'S JUST. yesod. probably spoilers here but when you first meet him in Lobotomy Corporation I think one of the earliest things he does is make a jab at your fashion sense even though it's universally agreed by new players that his outfit is a disaster (although he dresses like that for fear of contamination and his Trauma!). He's cold to mostly everyone and is very strict, rules-following kind of guy, and people often see him as emotionless and heartless, coming up with the nickname "The Viper" for him as a result of that! BUT!!! BUT!!!! LISTEN EVEN IF HE'S MEAN. EVEN IF HE'S COLD. HE'S LIKE THIS BECAUSE HE HAS TO BE!!! He has so much unresolved trauma in his past of getting too close with am employee and befriending them and losing them because he wasn't strict enough on safety regulations and let them off with a pass because they were friends. AND NOW HE'S CLOSED AND WITHDRAWN AND OBSESSIVE OVER SAFETY PROTOCOL BECAUSE HE'S SCARED AND HE REALLY REALLY DOES CARE ABOUT HIS EMPLOYEES!!! It's hinted that he doesn't like the nickname Viper but he accepts it because it makes him out to be the respected person he wants to be!!!! He praises the real AI of the corporation, Angela, for being cold and emotionless(which is ANOTHER bag of repressed trauma worms) and wishes he could feel nothing like her because HE FEELS TOO MUCH!!! I LOVE HIM SO DEARLY MI AMOR!!! And AND in the second game he's healed a little bit and is still a little mean but the first thing he does THE VERY FIRST THING HE DOES to the protagonist is walk up to him wordlessly and reach up to fix his tie. I'm normal about him. Also he's short. Short people closer to hell or whatever. IDK he's purple ok? :3 Even if he loses IT'S A TESTAMENT TO HIS GROWTH I'M PROUD OF YOU YESOD!!!!!!"

[legolasghosty]

So. About a year ago, the lovely Innytoes created a list of spicy writing prompts. And I, being the dorky ace that I am, decided to take it as a personal challenge to see just how UN-spicy I could do some of said prompts. The actual giving of prompts was kept to a few friends, and it was mostly a silly thing back when I could actually sit down and spin up a one shot in an evening. (A few of said prompts actually made it to ao3 at various points, you can read them here, here, here, and here!)

HOWEVER, I took a couple of the prompts off of the list before I offered it to my friends for prompts. Mostly cause I just had no idea how to make said prompts not sexual. But one of them has continued to haunt me for over a frigging year now! SO, here's some little snippets of how one could de-saucy-ify the prompt, "The lube is what flavor?"

Option 1 -

"Okay so what am I supposed to be getting again?" Alex asked, the phone to his ear as he entered the O'Reillys.

He heard Bobby groan on the other end of the call. "We've been over this at least five times, Lex." Alex could feel his exasperated glare without even seeing him.

"I'm sorry," Alex sighed. "I just know literally nothing about car fluids. Blame the gay in me or whatever."

"You do realize I'm gay too, right?" Bobby pointed out. "But again, you're looking for silicon lubricant. And for the love of God, don't get that Red and Tacky garbage Chad 'recommended'."

"I'm sorry, the lube is what flavor?!" Alex demanded, turning onto the aisle marked 'Fluids'.

"You're not supposed to-whatever-just get the silicon stuff," Bobby said instead of answering. "Valvoline usually works just fine."

Alex glanced around at the overwhelming shelves of bottles and jugs. He drummed out the beat to a song Luke and Julie had shown them the day before on his leg as he narrowed down the options. There, that looked right.

"Okay I found it," he told Bobby. "But you're explaining how car lube can be 'red and tacky' to me later."

"Deal," Bobby responded, sounding relieved.

Option 2 -

"-and the vocal folds need to be kept moist," Julie explained.

Luke nodded, but Julie knew she was losing him. His vocal health notes had dissolved into scribbles and half-finished lyrics. She'd better wrap this up.

"So they're naturally lubricated with a really thin layer of mucus," she continued. "And in order to keep that layer thin and stuff, you have to stay properly hydrated."

She paused to pick up the light blue plastic water bottle from the studio floor. But when she looked back up to whack him with it, the mostly full container seeming like a decent way to make a point, he was already staring at her, eyes full of confusion.

"What?" Julie asked, one hand flying automatically up to her ponytail to see if it had come loose or something.

"The lube is what flavor?" Luke asked, mouth hanging open a bit.

"I-what?" Julie asked again, now feeling almost as confused as her bandmate looked.

"The voice cord lube stuff," Luke responded. "You said it's like mucus. But isn't that just... snot? Your voice is covered in stuff that tastes like snot?!"

Julie tried to hold back. She really did. But she failed. She burst out laughing, dropping Luke's water bottle in a futile attempt to hide it. "Luke, mucus is more than just snot," she tried to explain through her giggles. "But yes, that's what keeps your vocal cords moist."

Luke shook his head. To all the world, he may have looked like a man who'd just been told he was colorblind, that everyone else could see a universe of shades his eyes couldn't comprehend.

But only Julie would know the truth. At least some part of her mini-lecture on vocal health got through.

Option 3 -

"Okay, and then pass me the 205?" Flynn requested, holding out a hand to Reggie, who was sitting on the floor along with most of Flynn's tools.

"Um, the what?" Reggie asked sheepishly, glancing around at the various brushes, screwdrivers, and small tubes surrounding him.

"Oh, the switch lube," Flynn clarified, pointing at a small jar. "It's GPL 205G0, and there's lots of types of keyboard lubricant, so we usually just use the numbers to ID them."

"Oh, right, sure," Reggie responded, passing her the container. "Sorry. Computers aren't really my thing."

"Well that's what you have me for," Flynn pointed out, smirking. "I fix your glitchy keyboard, you keep me from failing math."

Reggie laughed and leaned back against Flynn's bed while she worked. After a minute, she passed him back the jar and started fitting the keys back into place. He entertained himself by inspecting the black lid.

"Wait, so the lube is what flavor?" he asked, looking up at Flynn again. "Da-vinny-key?"

"Divinikey," Flynn corrected easily. "And that's a brand, not a flavor. Please don't eat keyboard lubricant."

"Well I wasn't planning on it..." Reggie said, letting his sentence trail off suggestively.

"Reginald Jacob Peters, you wouldn't dare," Flynn warned, shooting him a glare over her shoulder.

He held her eyes for one moment. Two. Three. Fo-

Reggie burst out laughing, with Flynn only a moment behind.

"I make no promises," Reggie wheezed as he got his breath back.

"I'm not taking you to the hospital when it poisons you," Flynn shot back, her grin betraying her words.

Thank goodness Reggie's keyboard was done already.

Thank you, sorry for wasting your time with my brain worm!

[passifaggot]

sorry gang i'm on a writing roll so here is

Ash's Thoughts About Every Winner + A Bonus

Wife, this is your warning. Do not look under the cut. You will be spoiled for literally the entire series.

Also I do briefly mention self-harm towards the end so if that is a trigger for you, I would recommend either scrolling or not reading the massive paragraph at the end.

Dr. Will (BB2) - There's a reason he's an iconic winner. He's a bit of an asshole but he's a lovable asshole, much like my dad.

Lisa (BB3) - Now, do I think a bitter jury contributed to this win? Yes. Is this win still deserved? Yes. She was a strong player in her own right and I'm still happy she won.

Jun (BB4) - One of my favorite winners. Basically invented the floater strategy that other houseguests try and fail to replicate to this day.

Drew (BB5) - Honestly, I have not dived very far into this mid-stage of the old seasons but I guess he's okay.

Maggie (BB6) - Not a big fan of her, tbh.

Mike Boogie (BB7) - There's a lot of shit that happened outside of the game that sours my opinion of him.

Evil Dick (BB8) - Ok, listen. He's a character I can say that much. But, there was a lot of production protection around his win. I don't think he would've gotten as far without America's Player.

Adam (BB9) - I haven't watched BB9, and I probably won't.

Dan (BB10) - What can I say about Dan that hasn't already been said? He is a BB legend and probably the best winner.

Jordan (BB11) - Yeahhhh, no.

Hayden (BB12) - I have conflicting thoughts about Hayden. Is he kinda responsible for Derrick? Yes. Is he entertaining to watch? Yes.

Rachel (BB13) - Ok I gotta admit, I'm not the biggest fan of her in 13, love her in 12 though.

Ian (BB14) - Ian is my favorite, if you have anything negative to say about him fuckin leave.

Andy (BB15) - I refuse to watch BB15.

Derrick (BB16) - See my future "Derrick Levasseur Ruined Big Brother & I Don't Respect Him As A Person" longpost.

Steve (BB17) - I am extremely biased towards Steve. BB17 was the first season I watched and the first to make me fall in love with Big Brother. If you asked my dad, he would say Vanessa was robbed. And I kind of agree, but also don't. We didn't have good enough internet for the feeds at the time so there's a lot of shit we missed.

Nicole (BB18) - I hate Nicole Franzel. I am tired of seeing and hearing her and I do not care if she lives or dies.

Josh (BB19) - 19 was a garbage dump as a season which makes it only fair to get a garbage dump of a winner. Only Kevin winning would satisfy me because he was the only bright spot in this hellhole of a season.

Kaycee (BB20) - Honestly, I don't give a rat's ass about this season. I was on Discord most of the summer so I didn't get to connect with a lot of the players.

Jackson (BB21) - Why do we award racists? I only watched the first half of the season because I was so angry.

Cody (BB22) - The only good thing he did was evict Nicole. This season made me stop watching until midway through BB24 because all of the Pre-Derrick players were evicted for trying to, yknow, play the fucking game how it was meant to be played. So tired of white boys.

Xander (BB23) - I have not gone back & watched BB23 in its entirety due to certain events in my life happening at that time because I fear it may trigger me and ruin my excitement for Big Brother.

Taylor (BB24) - It's what she deserves. She is 2 in my top 3 favorite winners, those being Ian, Taylor, and Lisa.

Jag (BB25) - I don't think you should win if you were evicted, but that's my opinion.

And finally, our bonus player:

Paul (BB18 & 19) - I have incredibly mixed feelings on Paul. When they played in 18, I thought they were the greatest person on Earth. They were cool and funny and had awesome style. And to an autistic middle schooler who couldn't keep up with the changing tides of the social hierarchy, they meant a lot to me because we were already very similar. So I mirrored them. I mirrored them HARD. They were everything I wanted to be as a person. Instead of being the kid who got bullied all the time, I could be cool. To this day, Paul is a really special houseguest to me because they provided an escape from the newly developing self-hatred and urge to harm myself. I'm older and healthier now, so I don't value my worth against people but they were a bright spot in a dark time in my life.

Then BB19 came along. And I felt betrayed.

Why was the person I looked up to suddenly acting like the very thing I was escaping from? It genuinely hurt a lot. And because of those feelings that still linger today, I still feel like that 12 year old "girl" who didn't know what was wrong with them whenever I see clips of Paul on BB19.

Thank you for your time. See yall on Thursday.

[zuzsenpai]

This is another personal post with TW mental illness. I'm sorry there have been so many recently. I really have nowhere else to put these things. Feel free to ignore.

I don't think my depression has ever been this bad before, in the almost 13 years I've had it. For maybe the past two months it's been steadily growing to a point of intensity that I can't ignore. The absolutely awful feelings won't go away. I can't stop thinking about how miserable I feel.

I can barely take care of myself. I eat takeout every day. There's garbage everywhere at my house. I can't get shit done at work and at some point people are going to notice. I have multiple really REALLY urgent doctor's appointments/calls I HAVE to make (one of which is to my psychiatrist who apparently I'm blocked from messaging on the healthcare app), yet I can't seem to pick up the phone. I am mentally incapable somehow. There's a wall there.

I have been told to exercise and meditate and I physically and mentally cannot. Again, there is a wall.

I have a video game I wanted to play, I try to play it, and I feel completely unattached to it (even though I have loved it in the past). I joined a really exclusive roleplay community for that game and proceeded to be too overwhelmed to make the character application and now the mods are asking me what I want to do. I haven't written fanfiction in two months because of severe burnout, and I miss it so desperately that it's making me realize I might have been using it as a bandaid/distraction. But my brain is so fried that I feel too overwhelmed to write again. People are leaving me nice comments on my fics and I can't even bring myself to read them let alone respond to them. My memory is so bad that I can't remember a lot of what happens in any of my fave series' and I feel like creating good fan content for those things is impossible at this point.

I'm ignoring online friends in my favorite server. I promised multiple IRL friends I would watch animes they like and I am feeling guilty that I mentally cannot do that. I'm dreading the two anime cons I have coming up in March because I don't think I'm going to feel comfortable in my cosplay this year. I have a close friend (who is also my coworker) who keeps trying to get me to do things with her and her husband and I keep turning them down because I'm worried I'll get overwhelmed by social anxiety and general awkwardness. Just the thought of having awkward social interactions is terrifying me and pushing me down harder than it ever has.

I had a boyfriend between October 2022 and December 2023, but I felt like it was a huge chore every time I had to see him and I developed zero feelings for him. I felt repulsed by the thought of us being romantic. We ghosted each other in December and now I feel like shit about it because he may have been the only chance I'll ever have at a relationship... but I also am in such a bad state that it's probably good things are over. Why don't I feel relieved?

I'm having physical tics in my abdomen and jaw that are getting worse and worse to the point of pain and people noticing. I can't talk to literally anyone without sounding upset, negative, angry. I had my best friends from out of state over a few weekends ago and I was so sick the whole time, I felt like I was letting them down. I've been repeating awkward interactions with friends and coworkers over and over in my head to the point where I think about it at night.

I haven't put my Christmas decorations away because I fucking CAN'T.

This week has been particularly bad. Yesterday I was working from home because of snow. When the snow stopped I rushed to my parents' house because I needed to be somewhere with people I know. But I was so negative in how I spoke with them, and it's making me feel even worse. I used to be really talkative and intelligent when having conversations with my family, but depression has taken that away from me pretty badly over the years, to the point where I can barely talk without thinking about how absolutely dreadful I am at conversation.

But today might be the worst of it (unrelated to Valentine's Day, though it certainly isn't helping). It pained me emotionally and physically to get out of bed, and I wanted to take a mental health day. Literally fell back asleep for an hour before I had to get up and DREAMT about taking a mental health day. But being alone at home is actually so much worse than being at work where there are at least people I am comfortable with. So I went in. I have been absolutely bombarded with depressed feelings all day though. I get up to walk down the hall to the bathroom and somehow that feels worse than sitting and staring at my computer without accomplishing anything. I'm sitting here crying at work, completely destroying the four months of tally marks I had for 'days without crying at work'. I didn't break my record, sadly.

I have a therapist. I have an appointment with her today actually. Maybe I'll just read all of this to her. I don't know where it's going to lead or what she's going to tell me to do, but all I want is to walk down the hall to the bathroom and have at least average, neutral emotions instead of carrying a chest full of raging depression. I want to be able to say something happy to someone so that they don't dump me as a friend for being toxically negative. I want to live, and I have things to live for. But damn if this depression isn't making it extremely difficult to enjoy those things.

[kiwiana-writes]

Kiwiana's Christmas Fics

@stereopticons tagged me to share my Christmas/holiday fics and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm not sure how I feel about this list 🤣 I am a HUGE Christmas person... in the southern hemisphere, so I’m super out of my depth writing Christmas fics for most fandoms because winter Christmas just feels so fundamentally wrong to me. (I've done it exactly once, in 2019 with family, and I felt like I was in a Hallmark film.) Which does result in the Schitt's Creek list being... well, interesting.

Let's go.

Red, White & Royal Blue

All Those Christmas Clichés [Alex/Henry; rated M (subject to change); WIP (advent fic, daily triple drabbles Dec 1-25)]

Daily triple drabbles: snapshots of the lead-up to Christmas 2023.

Schitt's Creek

I see every part of you [David/Patrick; rated M; 1,514 words]

Patrick is a straight-up aficionado when it comes to giving gifts. David has known this from literally day one of their relationship, when he pulled a bunch of tissue paper out of a blue gift bag, looked away from a sentimental receipt in a solid frame and into a pair of earnest eyes, and thought, 'I hate it when Stevie’s right.'

How the reindeer loved him [David/Patrick; rated E; 2,178 words]

David wraps an arm around him, hand splayed across his chest to pull him close. “Tell me,” he says quietly. “I want you to dress up as Santa,” Patrick rushes out in one quick breath.

This is all I'm asking for [David/Patrick; rated E; 3,957 words]

But by the time they clean up after the party, and Patrick tactfully offers to take the garbage bags out to the shed to give the Roses a bit of family time, it’s well after eleven and David can only assume all their plans for the evening are out the window. That is, until they turn out of the motel parking lot and instead of Patrick putting his hand on David’s knee like usual it lands halfway up his thigh, fingers tracing absent circles around his inseam, and David realises that at least one part of the plan is still very much on the table.

Dear Santa... [Gen: David, Alexis, Patrick; rated G; 2,191 words]

Letters to Santa, 1987-1997

Do you wanna fuck a snowman? [David/Patrick; rated E; 7,216 words; co-write with @ships-to-sail]

David mimics her stance — and he has to admit, she’s not entirely wrong. In the quickly disappearing light, already blurred a little bit by the still-fallen snow, the snowman does look a little like he has tree trunk thighs and a well-formed ass, rather than being Frosty-shaped. But it’s the best they’re going to do, and David’s toes are officially cold.

I need some Christmas spirit [David/Patrick; rated T; 626 words]

David can handle his alcohol, is the thing. So no, it doesn’t occur to Patrick to warn him.

It probably should have.

Happiest Season

We always walked a very thin line [Abby/Riley, Harper/Abby; rated T; 2,775 words]

The girlfriend — Abby — stumbles over a lie about being Harper's orphan roommate, which… wow. Girl is a bad liar. Riley kind of wants to take her by the hand and tell her she’s going to have to get a lot better at that particular skill if she’s going to be in a relationship with Harper Caldwell. She doesn’t though, because it’s not her place and because who knows what, if anything, Harper has told Abby about her?

[sephirthoughts]

Sorry if this is a lot but I am consumed by Cidvin at all times, so for the ask game for Cid/Vincent could you do 7, 22, 31, 32? Or any of them really! (I am obsessed with the way you talk about these two) Cheers!

7. Cid is clumsier. This is not his fault it’s just that Vincent has literal superhuman physical abilities. He makes up for it by being extremely confident though. Which makes him seem a lot cooler while he’s tumbling down two flights of stairs into a pile of garbage cans.

22. i was going to say Vincent’s would probably be physical touch but that’s more soothing/grounding. i think his actual love language would be acts of service. quietly, persistently, creating a bubble of care around his person. like making sure whenever cid absentmindedly reaches for his coffee mug it’s full and hot. the ash trays are neatly emptied no matter how much he smokes. his slippers are always near to hand. the enemies that have surrounded the place are all quickly, silently slaughtered and disposed of before they can disturb cid’s peace. that kind of thing.

Cid’s would be quality time. lest we forget, he’s a literal rocket scientist which means he goes fucking hard when it comes to work. when he specifically makes time for a person, he’s telling them “you’re more important to me than my work/lifelong obsession.” that said, he would drop absolutely everything for vincent at any time. not even in an emergency. if vincent was just like…bored and wanted to see him.

31. They spend their anniversaries just relaxing together, having a lot of sexy time, cooking a nice meal, exchanging small gifts. appreciating the time they have together while not calling too much attention to the actual number of years passing, because cid knows how difficult that is for vincent.

and late at night, after cid is asleep, vincent lays there staring at him for hours, memorising his features like snapshots in time, counting the grey hairs that he’s getting more and more of every year, as gold turns gradually to silver. quietly preparing himself for the long, cold night that will come, after this brilliant sun sets from his life, and he’s left alone and bereft, to face what it truly means to have loved and lost. to pay the bitter price that fate demands for having possessed such perfect joy. then he wraps cid up in his arms and whispers “it’s worth it” before he drifts off to sleep.

32. i answered this one before but i feel it’s incumbent upon me to emphasize how much of a sticky octopus vincent is. like he only begrudgingly lets go so cid can use the bathroom. and beware of his fangs because he claims he’s not a vampire, but if he feels ignored he will bite in and hang on until he draws blood or is sufficiently petted.