#It makes me feel at peace. There are no expectations to be even Decently written on my blog and I can just spam fanart of my blorbos

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Is it. Really that weird that I like keeping my personal blog away from my writing blog? ._. I'm pretty sure that's normal for a lot of people, especially people who either Do webnovel posting or intend to go into webnovel posting.

[mockerycrow]

Talk About Sensitivity In The COD Fandom **Important.**

THIS IS NOT A DEBATE POST. DO NOT BOTHER.

Hey, everyone. After the reveal of Makarov in the trailer (as well as general concern), I think a chat about sensitivity is important. Since the trailer’s release, I have seen a major increase in simping for Makarov posts as well as genuine romanticization of Russia and/or Russian Soldiers. First, I want to talk about the romanticization of Russia and/or Russian soldiers because it’s seriously getting out of hand. I need you guys to realize that Russia is an ultranationalist country and yes, maybe not everyone who lives there believes what their government does, but it’s important to know a big portion of their population does. I have seen multiple posts and edits of this man right here (pictures below).

THIS GUY IS NOT SOMEONE YOU SHOULD LIKE, AND PEOPLE NEED TO UNDERSTAND THAT HE DOES NOT LIKE YOU. This is one of the most popular Russian Soldiers amongst the internet due to the way he wears a mask, gear, has an accent, and is buff. He makes videos teaching soldiers how to kill people—innocent people in Ukraine who are just trying to survive. I have seen people straight up ignore when someone tells them what this man has done, so let me put it this way—he does not like you. He wants you dead. He is racist, a homophobe, transphobe, antisemitic, etc. He absolutely hates The West, and he does not like you unless you are a cis, straight, white 100% Russian. Even if you’re a woman, he DOES NOT LIKE YOU. If you American, HE DOES NOT WANT YOU ALIVE.

[This part is not targeted; just a general statement.] Second; there is a serious problem with how you guys address Makarov as a character. There is absolutely no problem enjoying him as a villain because I do too, but you guys have to realize that Makarov is an ultranationalist—which is exactly what Russia is right now, an ultranationalist terrorist state. “But he’s fictional, it doesn’t matter! it’s not that deep!” It actually is that deep. I keep seeing content for Makarov and I can’t force anyone to stop making “fluffy fics”, but I need y’all to have some fucking decency towards victims and people affected by the war. I know people who are affected by the war who feel ill seeing posts painting Makarov in a good light. If you are going to write Makarov, do NOT romanticize him as a character—do NOT paint him a decent or good light, because you can’t. Write him like the bastard he is. And no, this isn’t a “let people write what they wanna write” situation. You can do that, but please be expected to be judged and blocked by me and many others. Makarov is quite literally the characterization of everything that is wrong with Russia, and what HAS been wrong with Russia. Makarov is not a bad boy, a rebel, etc, he’s a fucking terrorist. Please be for real. “But the military in general is bad, so why does it matter specifically around Makarov?” Please see above my previous reasons. Thanks.

The overall message of this point is to be fucking respectful. There are actual people dying and slaughtered for no reason other than ruined pride and a lot of Ukrainian folk seek comfort and distractions in the internet and their fandoms. This ruins it for them and quite frankly, sometimes how Makarov is being written? It’s completely insensitive. Anyway, below are a few links where you can directly support the efforts and the people of Ukraine. Peace and love, and please write with critical thinking.

[zzeraphilm]

Written in the Stars

Angst - Regulus Black x F!Reader Word count: 1,163 I've been quite busy with work lately, sorry for the short one shot!

Before the summer of 1979, Regulus Black had a decently average school life. The boy found solitude in the Astronomy tower north of the castle. Far from other students and yet was drawn to one particular witch. Y/N L/N was unlike any other wizard at the school. What she lacked in social prowess, she bloomed in intimate confessions. The pair found themselves forever intertwined, always in the same class, always sat next to each other, always in the library at the same time every week. It was only a matter of time until they their time beyond academia branched into bi-weekly escapades in the Astronomy tower. At first, Regulus found it to be a hindrance to his peaceful hobby. But overtime, he craved Y/N’s presence at the mere sight of a telescope. He could feel his skin come out in hives when they were a part, he could not breathe the air that she did not exhale. In her regular outlandish character, Y/N stuck to him like glue the moment they both step foot in the tower. Their silent haven, where the heavens and stars above were their only witness. 

Tracking the stars and journeys of the planets were a veil for these evenings, both sat shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, fingers interlaced as they gaze above at the open sunset. A beautiful scene unlike any other, that would only bloom by their love. 

Y/N knew of Regulus’ dangers and tormenting life, the walls in his mind that he had built from steel and brick would only come down for her. She was determined to be his pillar, his guiding light. He was determined to never harm her, to always protect her no matter the cost. 

“Regulus, do you think you could, leave Grimmauld Place? Like your brother?” The H/C haired witch mumbled. These conversations were always met with a blank stare, the discussion of his heritage was met with destain from her partner. 

“You know it’s not that easy. That bastard ran off because he had a choice, I don’t.”

“Maybe… You could choose me. My mother won’t mind another mouth to feed, really! She loves to cook! She always makes like twelve times the recommended portion sizes! You could come with me next week, when we go back to London. My dad will drive us!” Y/N rambled, trying to ease the tense air between them. Regulus only delicately rubbed the back of her hand, his breathing steadied at the touch of Y/N skin. 

“…Perhaps mon cœur. But there’s too much expected of me this year, now that Sirius is gone. The pride and nobility of the Black family lies upon my shoulders.” 

Y/N was never fond of how her partner spoke so formally around her, the extension of his upbringing bled even into his everyday behaviour. She just wanted him to relax around her. Because to her, Regulus was not the spare turned heir. They weren’t even wizards in her eyes. Just two kids in love who want to spend every waking hour together. 

“I know that, but what I’m trying to say is that, I’m always here for you Reg!” She turns her head to face him, his eyes slightly widened like a deer in headlights, she grips his hand with both of her own, the veins along his boney hands were pumping his blue blood rapidly, she could taste his anxieties. 

“I just don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Then hurt me. Reggie, I’m not the delicate doll you think me to be. I am here for you. Because I want you. If it means I get hurt just for being with you then so be it. Because you are who I care about and love. Screw those mad preaching twats, I just want you.” He did not need to speak, Y/N knew him from the way he breathes, speaks and walks. She knows, all that Regulus had to do was come to her.

Before nightfall, the two kissed a goodnight blessing and parted ways to their respected houses. Despite his standing as a Slytherin in Hogwarts, Y/N did not care for the stares from his fellow green scaled classmates. But Regulus Black was not one for social rejection. He had kept his relationship with Y/N as discreetly as he can, only ever brushing his hand against hers for a millisecond whenever they passed in the halls. He made sure that their meetings could easily be read as merely coincidence. But the cunning snakes of his house were not foolish. They know how to plot and scheme in secret. To them, Regulus was obvious and they hated how he reeked of Y/N’s perfume every time he stepped foot in the common room. He would persistently deny that he ever cared for what others thought of him, he knew that he mustn’t tarnish the Black name. Toujours pur. Since Sirius’ excommunication from the family, he represents the family name in Hogwarts. He is to carry his family’s reputation for the future of the wizarding world. He knew the weight that he must carry. 

But Y/N was everything he ever wanted, and everything that his family hated. She was a Gryffindor, she lacked any class or etiquette, and most of all, she was muggle born. He cursed the stars for shining their light towards her, he did not wish to have a beacon of light, he had finally accepted that anchor that ties him to the darkness. Yet there she was, a beam of hope that was merely inches away from his grasp. If he could only reach out, maybe this summer he could escape his destiny. 

That night before he could even shut his eyes, a familiar owl perched on the distant window sill of the dungeon. A letter flew down from the crack of the window, and landed in front of him, the parchment was coarse, his name scribbled on with black ink and the recognisable stamp from his home. The Black sigil only meant one thing. Upon opening it, there was nothing else written on it other than the words:

You will leave for home tomorrow morning. 

Before he could say his goodbyes, he wrote his final letter to Y/N L/N. 

Mon cœur, This arrangement has been the pleasure of a lifetime. But we are still from different worlds. Do not come for me, do not reach out to me.  I will always be grateful for what we had.  Je t’aime, jusqu’à mon dernier souffle.  R.

Regulus did not take the Hogwarts Express back to London with Y/N like they had planned. Regulus Black’s destiny did not lie in his hands, he couldn’t grasp whatever life rope Y/N L/N dangled in front of him. Regulus Black knew that the stars only charted towards his sinful fate. Regulus Black never got to board the Hogwarts Express ever again. 

[clown-friend-gt]

Weighted Blanket

Edit: Changed the title of this post to make it fit in more with other bits of this story that I've posted

This is a story I've been working on for a while, but isn't substantial enough for me to want to post it yet. What I have right now is a half-finished lore doc and some scenes I've written with some of the main characters.

Both of the characters in this are students in a superhero training program. They're roommates in the co-ed housing that the program provides. Addie has the ability to fly, but has the tendency to lose control of her powers while she sleeps. Trevor's "ability" is that he is constantly growing, albeit at a slow rate.

This story takes place a ways into their time in the program, where they've already become friends. This is the beginning of what turns into a romantic relationship between the two.

************************************************************************

Addie woke up with her face pressing against the ceiling again. She groggily placed her hands on either side of her face and tried to push herself away, only to slowly drift back upwards. Before her face could become compressed again, she gained the awareness to stop flying. She let that familiar feeling of weightlessness leave her and fell the short distance back to her mattress with a sigh.

She’d been there more than a year and she was still waking up like this. Granted, it was happening less often as she got a better handle on her powers. Still, she would occasionally have nights like these where she’d start floating in her sleep and it wouldn’t stop until the morning. She could either take her chances with the fitful sleep she’d get like this or find something to occupy her time until the morning. Or…

She opened the door to the fence that surrounded her bunk. It was supposed to keep her from floating over the side of the bed, but with no ladder down, it almost looked like some kind of cage. Of course, she had no real need for a ladder anyway. She began to hover ever so slightly as she hung over the side of the bed to look at the bunk below hers.

Sprawled across the largest mattress she’d ever seen was her roommate, Trevor. At around 25 feet tall, he was even bigger than when they’d first met. It was hard to believe someone his size could still be growing. Then again, this place existed because of people like them, people who were beyond belief.

He looked so peaceful like this. His face, often creased with worry when he was awake, looked so relaxed now. She felt a little bad about waking him up. But she figured he was her only hope of getting a decent night’s sleep now.

“Hey. Trevor,” She whispered, with no response.

“Psst. Trevor. Trev. Trevor!” He scrunched his brow a little as she raised her volume slightly but stayed asleep.

“Trevor~” she sang out. He continued to stir.

“Trevor. C’mon, I need your help.” Eventually, as she continued to prod, he started to wake up.

“Huh? What is it,” he murmured, his eyes still closed.

“I need you to hold me,” she stated simply.

“What?” That woke him up. He opened his eyes to look at her critically as she cringed slightly at her own phrasing.

“I mean I need you to hold me down so I don’t fly off in my sleep.”

“Oh.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Why?”

“I keep mushing my face against the ceiling and it wakes me up.” She pressed her hands against her cheeks to mime it for him. He chuckled at that.

Trevor took a sec to take in the sight before him. Somehow, Addie was hanging off of the side of her bed. As they talked, she began to dip lower and lower. It took him a little longer than he’d care to admit that she wasn’t clinging to the bed with her feet like a bat but hovering in place upside-down.

“How are you doing that without all of your blood rushing to your head? That can’t be comfortable.”

“Um,” she giggled, kicking her feet above her playfully. “It’s not.”

“Uh huh.” He laid back down and stretched his arms upwards, as if to grasp at her bed. “How were you expecting this to work? I don’t think I can sleep like this.”

Addie pushed herself away from the bunk beds. “Well,” she said, executing a few awkward mid-air acrobatics to try and right herself, “Obviously I have to get closer.”

“Closer?” He scootched over in his bunk, as if to make room. “I guess I could–”

“Not like that.” She made swimming motions to make her way over to him. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but she was having fun, damnit.

She positioned herself above him, flipped herself so she’d be on her back, and let herself drop, landing on his chest.

“O-oh.” Trevor said, feeling himself begin to blush. “I mean, if you’re comfortable like that?”

“Mm-hm,” she answered. “Now–hand.”

“What”

“Put your hand over me, like a blanket.”

“Okay.” He breathed out. Hesitantly, he placed his hand as gently as possible over her midsection.

“Yeah.” He felt her nod against him. “I think that’ll work.”

They sat like that for a bit. Trevor stared at the empty bunk above him, his free hand laying rigidly at his side. He had picked her up before, before he knew she could fly, but this was different. It felt almost…intimate. He hoped she wasn’t uncomfortable.

He wondered if his hand was too heavy. At least he couldn’t cover her whole body with his hand. He already felt out of place and unnatural around other people; that might freak him out a little too much. Still, this silence felt a little too awkward for him.

He cleared his throat. “So, is this better than being mushed against the ceiling?”

“Mm-hm,” she murmured sleepily.

“My hand isn’t crushing you, right?” He could feel her chuckling at that.

“No. It’s a comfortable weight, not a crushing weight.” She tilted her head up to try and look at him. She noticed him tense soon after she laid against his chest, but she didn’t know if he was uncomfortable, or nervous, or both.

“Is this okay for you?” She asked him.

“No it’s fine. It’s actually kind of nice.” He added that last part quietly, hoping she didn’t catch it. But with her laying up against him, she could both hear and feel everything he said, the vibration of his voice gently rumbling against her back. In the dark, Addie’s own face began to heat up.

Addie felt him slowly begin to relax after that. His chest raised and lowered slowly with his breathing. She felt like a small ship being rocked by the gentle waves of the ocean. His body was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Gently pinned between his hand and his chest, she fell asleep pretty quickly like that.

Meanwhile, Trevor was blown away by the surreal experience. There was an entire person lying on top of him, and yet here he was, cradling her like a stuffed animal. He could feel the tiny puffs of air as she breathed in and out. He smiled softly, his eyes beginning to drift closed again.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like a monster. He never could’ve imagined getting to hold another person like this before. She was so small to him, and yet she trusted him to be this gentle with her.

Addie was something else. From day one, she had trusted him to be this careful, even when he didn’t trust himself. She helped him realize that his strength was not just a burden. How could he ever thank her enough for that?

He was startled out of his thoughts when he felt the weight on his chest begin to lift. He looked down, but Addie laid in place. This must be what it felt like when she began to float in her sleep. Shyly, he laid his other hand across her, to keep her secure. Then, he let his eyes shut fully and drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

************************************************************************

Let me know what you think! I have a couple more scenes from this story written out if people want to see those as well.

[deuxcherise]

Operation Otterly-In-Love

C/w: Possibly OOC Neuvillette, cooking soup, suggestive behavior, dramatic!Reader, male!Reader

A/n: So… is he an otter or is he a dragon? It has been answered in the game, but as with many, many others, I suspect otherwise! Hehehe. Anyway, I realized I haven’t really written a story with a male!Reader so I decided to for a romance with our favorite Hydro Otter— I mean Hydro Dragon!

Masterlist

Everyone knows that there are many rules in the illustrious region of Fontaine, where wonderful engineering meets sophisticated art. There are some odd ones such as it being illegal to eat ketchup on its own, or that it is forbidden to release anything flying during the first three days of the month. But there is one particular rule, among the normal ones, that almost all prolific families follow, lest they allow any accumulated wealth and property to fall through their fingers… like some unscrupulous members of society unfortunately ailed by gambling or overindulgence of spirits or— may their souls find peace— illegal activities.

When it comes to inheritance, the rule states that the heir shall be the eldest child of the previous title holder.

Quite simple, is it not? And quite modern in some books, seeing as potential female heirs were often looked over for the benefit of a male heir historically, even when said ladies proved more capable than their gender counterparts. Nowadays, all that it requires is that one of  your parents possesses the particular title and that you are the eldest child (and of good health) to inherit it.

In this time and age, there are more and more families who have allowed the tides to turn and accepted this rule as is. However, there are still some who find it better to continue the traditional way. Such as the Vernon Family, whose older members have firmly stated that they would rather die than bypass a proper male heir.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. If it were possible, you’d rather let your sister inherit the Vernon Viscountcy. Except that you are not only the eldest child of the eldest child but the only son of the Vernons, among cousins who are all daughters, thus you fit all of the qualifications to inherit everything. And so will your first son, should you ever consider settling down and finding a decent wife to make pregnant, as your parents constantly feel the need to remind you ever since you turned the adult age of 21.

Luckily for your despairing mama and papa, after much, much, much consideration for a handful of years, you have decided that now is that time.

You give an elegant twirl before you hold your hand out and dramatically declare, “Marry me, Neuvillette.”

It is less of a question, and more a command… or a suggestion if you’d like to put in gentler terms. However, you are confidently assured that he would say—

“No,” Neuvillette objects. Your sudden proposal did nothing to sway his attention from the ever growing stacks of paperwork on his desk he has yet to tackle, thanks to Furina. He didn’t so much as look up at all, much to your slight disappointment.

Quite understandable, really. Who in their sane mind would say yes to a sudden proposal when you haven’t courted each other yet? Even you would answer the same, though not as coldly as he did, especially to someone he’s known for a while. That being said, all part of the plan.

You place your hand over your heart and act as if he had shot you in the chest. “Augh, you wound me, Neuvi… But I understand, which is why I have come here to propose that we–”

“No.”

Cut off, you take a moment to process. “No? I haven’t even asked the question yet,” you pout.

Neuvillette puts down his pen and pinches his nose bridge, letting out a heavy sigh that weighs on you more than expected. He finally makes eye contact with you, his dark blue slit eyes daring you to annoy him further than you already have. “(Y/n), as much as I entertain many of your jokes, I do not believe courting and marriage are topics one should play around with.”

You gasp, offended. “Pardon? I should have you know that I am being very serious. More serious than I have ever been in my life, in fact. I am asking to court you. I. (Y/n) Vernon. Want. To. Court. You. Neuvillette. I'm serious.”

You almost grin once you see a certain light enter his widening eyes, a signal of understanding. However, it suddenly goes away just as quickly as it had arrived, before he exhales a tired sigh and picks up his pen again. “My sincerest apologies,” he says, returning to concentrating and scribbling on his current paper. “I apologize if I have ever possibly led you to believe that I am interested in any sort of courting with anyone. I do not ever wish to court you or be courted by you.”

It is one thing for your intended person to forsake romance of any sort, but to add words specifically mentioning that he would never be interested in you… Well, it certainly makes your heart bleed a bit.

Oh ho, but not nearly enough to dissuade someone like you!

Although pained, your face doesn’t fail to turn that melting frown right side up, a new determination traveling through your veins. If he is not interested in courting you or being courted by you, then isn’t this simply a challenge you must face in order to win his heart? All good romances have to start somewhere, yours will just have to start from zero.

Your silence piques Nevillette’s attention once more, prompting him to look up and take notice of your expression. He has witnessed that mischievous smile and those glittering eyes before whenever a fresh new idea pops into your head. The kind that tends to cause chaos.

He begrudgingly stands up from his chair intending to prepare for whatever your head has concocted, when he is stunned at a thrown white glove to his face. You place your hands on your hips and declare with a pointed finger, “Neuvillette, I will capture your heart one way or another! Prepare yourself, good sir!”

And so begins, Operation Otterly-in-Love.

The target: Neuvillette. The challenger: You.

-----🦦-----

The setting? A picnic table by one of Fontaine's many beautiful lakes under the shade of a large tree.

The objective? Culinary seduction.

Anyone who is anyone in Fontaine knows the stoic and righteous Neuvillette as the Chief Justice, the Iudex of Fontaine, and a man of unknown origins. With how long he has held the position throughout generations, if not a god or divine being then he was most definitely blessed by divinity at some point.

You, among a select few others, are fortunate enough to be privy to the fact that the subject of your heart is none other than the blue-haired, stone-faced judge. Despite that truth, you cannot help but have a strong belief that he is something else entirely. The edges of your lips instantly curl upward at the sight of those lovely, fluffy creatures swimming about in the sparkling waters of Fontaine.

Otters.

Their blue coats and their darker blue markings, their love for water, and cuteness are extremely reminiscent of your Neuvillette. In your humble opinion, of course, which he does not share.

Speaking of which, the subject in question exhales audibly, miffed at your distracted form. “(Y/n), I believe you said that there was something in dire need of my attention?”

“Dire” is certainly a polite description that severely downplayed how thickly you had laid upon the supposed details of a possible disaster should he not allow you the opportunity to drag the hard worker away from his work and out of his stuffy office.

You direct your brilliant smile towards him and place your hand on top of the cloche’s handle, and lift it up to reveal one of your lover-to-be’s favorite dishes in a simple yet very elegant bowl: Soup. 

Not just any plain old soup, mind you! It is a painstakingly and lovingly homemade Consomme Purete, made with only the finest fowls, eggs, and vegetables in only the purest, chilliest waters from the highest mountains that you could get your hands on.

The method by which you somehow acquired these ingredients, well… you have already sent many prayers towards a dear friend of yours who at the moment might be busy occupying the capable hands of a certain Lord of the Fortress of Meropide. You'll have to find a suitable gift worth a million thanks for the noble sacrifice.

“Consomme Purete,” you cheekily introduce the dish as you place the cloche to the side and rest your elbows on the table, your chin on top of intertwined fingers. “A fine day to have it, don't you think?”

His narrow eyes widen just a tad at the sight of the soup. He hasn't eaten yet, and his stomach is already taken by a whiff of the savory scent. The dew of the soup reflects the gentle sun shining in the sky accompanied by a few fluffy clouds. A fine day indeed.

“And whatever is the occasion for your efforts? You know that I do not accept bribes,” he says, elegantly taking a spoonful of soup but not yet a taste.

You bat your eyes. “Should I need any occasion to feed you, my dear?”

He lowers the spoon. “If you are still going on about your ridiculous proposal, I should have you know, once again, that is a meaningless endeavor.”

You hold back a click of your tongue. “Again with that…” you wave a hand. “Well, at least have a taste. I put in my blood, sweat, and tears just to make this.”

He raises an eyebrow.

Your eyes bug out at his silent implication. “Not literally! That's gross!”

“If you say so,” he says, but still decides to take a sip.

“How is it~?”

You watch intensively as the spoonful of soup disappears behind those lips of his. The lack of wrinkles on his face seems to indicate acceptance. You spy the tip of tongue peek out for just a split second to lick whatever glistening essence hadn't made it into his mouth. This tiny seductive display sends sends a bit of blood down to your—

“It is… adequate.”

Instead of heading downwards, your blood shoots upwards. “WHAT?? Adequate!?” You shriek. You place a hand over your heart and the back of your other hand on your forehead. “Neuvillette, please. I'll allow you to step on my heart, but do not jest when it comes to my cooking.”

“Unfortunately, you and I both know I do not jest when it comes to a dish like this. I applaud you for your efforts, but you may have over-steeped the vegetables a little too long for this to be called Consomme Purete.”

Your jaw drops.

You knew it! You turned your back on the stove a little too long when you were arguing with your parents. Stupid, stupid, stupid. To think you had presented this special dish to your love interest with such confidence! Augh, you wish you could go die in a hole right now.

Plan - Culinary seduction: Failure.

Will you give up?

…..

HA! FAT CHANCE! COMMENCE THE NEXT OPERATION!

-----🦦-----

[Extra]

You give out a disheartened sigh and reach towards the dish. “In that case, allow me to clear–”

Neuvillette blocks you from reaching his bowl with his arm. “I didn't say I was done, did I?”

You tilt your head in confusion. “Huh? But– Oi!”

The Iudex lifts the bowl and gulps it down in one sitting before delicately placing the bowl down and wiping the corners of his lips with a napkin with as much sophistication as a gentleman could muster. He then gets up and leaves the table with only a simple, “thank you for the meal”.

You sit there, dumbfounded as you watch him head back towards his office.

Plan - Culinary seduction: Failure Success…?

[katieskarlette]

Long time, no ramble

I read The Calling, the new short story about Anduin. It was heart wrenching, emotional and poignant...but I couldn't stop thinking about how much I disliked the plot that sent him on this trajectory.

No matter how well Anduin's PTSD and guilt are handled, I can't forget that they stem from the train wreck of Shadowlands. He should never have been put in this position in the first place.

Just as Anduin was literally yoinked into the sky by the Jailer's minions to start the expansion, he was also yoinked out of his plot arc. He was starting to come into his own as a king, moving beyond his father's shadow bit by bit, finding the balance between his own peace-loving tendencies and the grim necessity of some violence in a world such as Azeroth. There were hints that he was struggling with the balance of Light and Shadow, as well. All of that character development came to a screeching halt when he got kidnapped and turned into Zovaal's puppet.

What made pre-Shadowlands Anduin unique was his stubborn insistence on empathy in a world full of bloodthirsty warmongers. The siege of Undercity at the start of BFA was the perfect microcosm of that: he set down Shalamayne and used the Light to heal/rez his soldiers instead. He was finding ways to lead that were effective but which allowed him to be true to his ideals.

There was nothing wrong with the way Varian led his people (or at least nothing that I want to get into right now), but that doesn't mean his style is the right choice for Anduin. I've always had a soft spot for characters who are like, "Yeah, I know the world is a cruel place. I'm not naïve. But that's all the more reason to spread hope and kindness."

I would have been fine with a plot where Anduin struggles to find a happy medium between "We must strive for peace" and "We need to mercilessly obliterate our enemies to protect innocent lives," and errs too much on the side of violence. He could feel the same remorse and lack of trust in himself as he does in the current canon, feel unworthy of the Light, think back on how Varian atoned for some of his misdeeds, and grow as a person. It would mean more if he was actually making choices and working through the consequences.

As it stands, Anduin is beating himself up over something that isn't his fault, even a little bit. I sympathize with him up to a point, but by the end of the short story I was frustrated and even a little annoyed with his stubborn self-hatred. He's not stupid, and it's not like being controlled by evil forces is a new concept for an Azerothian. He comes across as obtuse when he insists that he's indelibly tainted by what happened to him, when he personally knows people who have been in similar situations and did not become pariahs.

(Yes, I know trauma responses aren't logical. Irrational guilt and survivor's guilt exist. But realism doesn't necessarily translate into a satisfying narrative. And yes, characters need to change and face challenges, but when those challenges were born from atrocious writing it leaves a bad taste in the audience's mouth.)

Is there dramatic irony in the kind, altruistic character not being able to extend the same grace to himself? Of course. But is Blizzard's storytelling capable of that level of nuance? Forgive me for being skeptical. I'm sure he will find himself again and heal through the coming expansions, but, again, I'm not optimistic that it will be handled well.

I'm probably judging the story too harshly because my patience for WoW's story ran out during Shadowlands and I'm still bitter. If they had to try to salvage a halfway decent character arc from the bullshit of that expansion, this is probably the best way to go about it.

The new short story was well-written and tugged at the heartstrings. It just didn't win me back. I didn't expect it to, though. Instead I continue to mourn a franchise that captivated me for many years before its trip to the realm of Death meant the demise of my devotion. :(

Disclaimer: I didn't hate everything about Shadowlands. Sire Denathrius can read off a list of my sins anytime. Aww yeah. The rest can be retconned to oblivion, though. ;)

[theearlgreymage]

Despite having written close to 25k words this month, I have been SLACKING on making any type of "Six Sentence Sunday" or "WIP Wednesday" Posts. Partially because my NaNoWriMo Project is a secret gift. Partially because I have been cursed by an eldritch deity and never know peace.

Anyway. To each and every one of you who continues to tag me - you're gems. Sweethearts. Sparkles of Light on my bad days. I love and appreciate each of you, even if I do it silently from my little corner of the world.

Setting the emotions aside now.

Here are as many sentences as I feel like sharing from my project. Because I've been quiet lately and ya'll deserve more than just six measly sentences for not abandoning me. (And if you're from the CO Fandom, know that I'm coming back to all my SnowBaz WIPs as soon as I finish this beast)

An Excerpt from Chapter XI

As I finish Erwin’s request, I level my gaze back on him. Finding his eyes with my own, there’s a look, an intensity, in them that leaves my mouth dry. There’s a question flying in the blue of his irises, a curiosity that I want to sate.  What does he want from me?  Swallowing, I lean forwards in my seat. Propping my elbows on the table, even though Erwin told me that proper nobles keep their elbows off the tops of tables and desks. “How much of this is true?”  Erwin’s eyes flash at my question, and he leans in himself. Bringing our heads close enough together that I can smell the tea and cream from breakfast on his breath. “What do you think?”   “I think I’m not being told everything,” anything, “and that’s on purpose.”  Apparently, that was the right thing to say as Erwin grins at me. And again, I’m struck with how much he reminds me of that boy who’s name I can’t recall. Brilliant white teeth and pink lips that soften his angular face. The sight stirs something reminiscent in my gut. I’m half tempted to ask Erwin if he feels it too, if I remind him of someone from his own childhood. But before I can gather the courage to potentially make a fool of myself if I’m wrong, Erwin is asking more questions of me.  “And why would they do that? Why not tell you, tell everyone the truth?”  “The same reason anyone avoids the truth, because they have something to hide.” It’s an easy answer. One of the first lessons that Kenny taught me. Everyone has something to hide, and if you can find that truth in an individual you can best them every time.  “Exactly,” Erwin agrees with me as he pushes the books we’ve been studying away from us. “So what could the royals and nobles be hiding from us?”  At that, I’m stumped and shrug my shoulders. Erwin deflates with me, almost like he was expecting me to actually have the answer to that question.  He does think I’m a noble, maybe the idiot thinks I have some secrets.   It wouldn’t shock me to discover that he wants to use me for something. He’s clearly working against the nobility in some regard, and I’m sure having a noble on his side could be beneficial. But if he thinks I’m going to be some grand advantage, he’s surely mistaken. I’m nothing more than a good fighter and decent thief.  “I think we’ve covered enough for today,” Erwin redirects the conversation suddenly. Moving to restack the books and parchment we’ve been using all afternoon.

Consider the Tags below as both a Hello, but also How are you all doing?

@aristocratic-otter @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @artsyunderstudy @bazzybelle @bookish-bogwitch @buffy @captain-aralias @confused-bi-queer @cutestkilla @ebbpettier @erzbethluna @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @foolofabookwyrm-activated @gekkoinapeartree @hushed-chorus @ic3-que3n @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @ionlydrinkhotwater @j-nipper-95 @johnwgrey @krisrix @larkral @martsonmars @letraspal @moodandmist @mostlymaudlin @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @shrekgogurt @skeedelvee @stardustasincocaine @stitchyqueer @tea-brigade @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[cheribl0ssom]

Oliver Aiku x Fem!Reader: Common Courtesy

Word Count: 4.3k~

C/W: fem reader, alcohol use, mentions of smoking, enemies to lovers trope, established friendships

A/N: a little self indulgent mostly fluffy piece, i've never written something so long before but this idea awakened something in me. I hope you like it!

thank you @heavenlyakin for beta reading <3

The last place you wanted to spend your night was out at the club, but you decided to give it a chance since you were being asked to go by your best friend Meguru Bachira. You two were basically inseparable despite the fact that you had such differing lifestyles. 

You were the kind of person that preferred to stay at home, in the peace and quiet, lounging around doing whatever you felt like without a care in the world. He liked the nightlife, the never ending fun of the city and he wanted to share that experience with you.  

“Come ooooon,” Bachira teased, sticking his tongue out at you. “You never know what might happen when you put yourself out there.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you hummed, rubbing the back of your head  “I guess just one time won’t hurt. But seriously only this time!”  Bachira giggled at your response while sifting through your closet, determined to choose the perfect clubbing outfit for you. The instant a black, tight mini dress caught his eye, he swiped it off a hanger and handed it to you and then motioned for you to start getting ready.

It only took a couple of hours for you both to get ready, especially since you kept getting distracted trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t the worst idea you’ve agreed to before. Once Bachira had finished getting ready he spent his time reassuring you, making sure you were genuinely comfortable with going out. He also made sure you both had a couple drinks in your system so you could start a steady buzz before you left the house.  

“You look gorgeous as ever!” Bachira encouraged you as you did a 360 spin in front of him, showing off your final look. Your best friend’s hype had you feeling on top of the world at this moment, forgetting the anxiety from before.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” You cheered, as your cheeks heated up from the alcohol and excitement growing in you. 

—

As you pulled up to the venue, your anxiety was making its comeback, the weight of the unknown started to sink in. The music was so loud you could hear it from the outside. Everywhere you looked there were bright, flashing lights. It was dazzling. Even though Bachira told you what to expect, you were still taken back by the shock of seeing it all for yourself. As you shuffled out of the Uber, you tipsily and nervously grabbed onto Bachira’s arm causing him to look back and smile at you. 

“Reeeelax,” He chirped, “Everything is going to be great.” 

The line to get in the club wasn’t too long with the security check being skimpy at best. The dance floor was just the right amount of people for things to feel natural and not overly claustrophobic. The hardest part of the night was over; you were at the point where you could enjoy yourself and let loose. It was clear Bachira was on the same page, as he went to put in a couple song requests with the DJ and grab drinks at the bar. 

— 

As the songs started to blend together, you weren’t sure how long it had been since you had arrived at the club. You and Bachira had been steadily ingesting drinks to stay drunk, dancing your asses off and enjoying the night way too much. You never wanted this to end despite your original skepticism. 

You sipped up the last drops of your beverage and looked over to Bachira, whose glass was completely empty. Collecting his glass from his hand, you offered to get the next round of drinks. This was the perfect excuse to step away for a second and catch your breath; Bachira was in his element so you didn’t wanna pull him out of that. 

Strolling up to the decently packed bar, an electronic clock with bright red numbers caught your eye. 11:30 p.m.. Not bad. It’s not too late yet, you thought to yourself. You had a little bit left in you before you’d be okay with calling it a night, so you focused on getting the alcohol that would give you that last burst of energy. 

You politely shoved your way up to the counter, waving your hand hoping to catch the eye of one of the few bartenders behind the counter. One of the bartenders caught the signal and started to walk in your direction, but before you could get a word out you were hastily pushed aside by a black and green haired tall, muscular man. 

“Blue Moon. Can I get an orange slice with that? Thanks.” The man shouted, making sure his voice took priority over the music blasting in the background. 

“Guess waiting your turn for service doesn’t apply to some people,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to protect your spot at the counter.

“And I guess other people don’t know how to assert themselves effectively in social situations,” the man shot back with no hesitation, picking the fresh glass of beer that was placed before him. “Better luck next time.” 

“Dick.” you muttered, turning away from him, “Excuse me! I’m trying to order some drinks here.” Your words were drowned out by the loud music blaring from the speakers overhead. The unfazed man smirked a little and shot you a wink before walking away. 

What was all of that? You sighed to yourself. After another 15 minutes fighting for your life at the bar, you were finally able to get some drinks and head back to Bachira. 

“Y/N! Took you long enough,” Bachira poked as he accepted the drink from your hand. “You doing alright?” 

As much as you wanted to answer, this wasn’t the time or place and you didn’t want to be the vibe killer. You chugged your drink and forced the moment with the mystery man to the back of your mind. 

One more drink. Then another, and another. Your aggravation faded away as you gave in to the powerful combination of alcohol and the music. 

—

“Just how much did we drink last night?” you groaned, sipping on the coffee in front of you as you waited for your food to arrive. After placing your cup down, you leaned back in your chair trying to come to terms with how sluggish and awful you felt from going all out. 

“Knowing that isn’t going to cure your hangover, so forget about it!” Bachira laughed, completely unbothered even though he was hungover too. “So are you going to tell me about what happened last night or are you going to keep changing the subject?”

Bachira always saw through your attempts to hide your feelings, but you knew he could tell you were still annoyed by something that took place when he wasn’t around. 

“Ugh! Well like it’s not a big deal….” you trailed off, trying to downplay it. “This guy with black and green hair cut me off at the bar and he was just a total jerk!” You sighed angrily, feeling like you were reliving the scene just momentarily. 

“I think I have seen a guy like that around there before, he’s a frequent face downtown. I can't say I’ve had any interactions with him though.” Bachira responded, pondering the information you gave him and eating the freshly cooked breakfast the waiter just brought over to your table.

“It… it’s fine I was drunk anyway and probably overreacting. Anyway, when were you planning to hit the clubs again?” The thought of having more nights like last one excited you, aside from the bar encounter. 

“Wow, am I asleep? I’ve gotta still be dreaming if I’m hearing that question come out of your mouth.” Bachira was in total disbelief, but he pulled out his phone to view his availability. 

—

Before you knew it, a month had passed since your interaction with black and green haired man. You continued to go to the clubs with Bachira here and there as it fit into the puzzle that was your own schedule. Every so often you saw the mystery man, but you went out of your way to avoid any sort of exchange with him. 

“It’s your turn to go get refills,” Bachira exclaimed, passing his empty glass over to you. It had been about three hours since you arrived at the club, and you were downing drinks like no other again. You felt every drop of alcohol racing through your body.

When you got up to the bar, you pressured your way into the one available space and prepared to put in your order at the first opportunity. While the bartender began to make your drinks, you heard a quiet snicker from beside you. Before you could react, the bartender placed your beverages in front of you and sent you on your way.

As you walked back to the dance floor, you drunkenly glanced back and noticed the mystery man was the one next to you who had been attempting to create some sort of scene. Tears of embarrassment and anger welled up in your eyes. Seriously, what was up with that dude trying to start something with you a second time now?

“What’s wrong?” Bachira shouted over the music, gently taking his drink from your hand. In the time it took for you to get drinks and meet up again, Bachira had met someone and they were dancing on him; thankfully they were paying no mind to the conversation between you two.

“Ummm, I think I just need to go catch my breath…” you lied. “I’ll be back, promise!” Rather than try to formulate a coherent explanation, you faked a smile and blinked your tears back before heading to the outdoor seating. You were not going to get in the way of your best friend getting some; Bachira knew better than anyone you were distancing yourself from him so he could leave at his own leisure depending on how things go with his newfound interest. He also knew you could handle yourself enough to make it home safely and soundly. Your goal now was to get outside and sober up a bit so you could get home in one piece.

Stumbling outside, you noticed a vacant seat in the far corner of the patio and you decided to help yourself to it. You had your head in your hands as you tried to collect yourself; you had way too much to drink and everything you were feeling was intensifying more by the second. As you were starting to sober up, the smell of cigarette smoke entered your nose causing you to gag. You looked up with intent to scold whoever was polluting your oxygen, only to see the last person on earth you wanted to be around standing right next to you.

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Blue Moon with an Orange Slice.” you drunkenly jabbed through hiccups, revealing the suppressed aggravation that started to surface. 

“Sorry, do I know you?” He responded looking down at you, a smirk growing on his face.

“No, I suppose… You actually don't.” You couldn’t help but angrily pout when you noticed he had the upperhand in this situation. Your previous commentary revealed that he had successfully gotten under your skin, leaving you more and more bothered after each encounter. 

“Hmmm, you sure seemed certain before,” the man rubbed the back of his head while puffing on a cigarette. He crouched down in front of you, and pushed some stray hairs away from your face. “Don’t you think you’ve had a little bit too much to drink tonight?” 

“What’s it to you?” You managed to ask, trying to feel out this mystery man’s intentions.

“Let’s go. Your usual companion is already gone and I am not going to let a drunk lady wander off on her own.” He stood back up and extended his hand out to you; you hesitantly accepted and got up. “Can you tell me where you live?”

Rather than order you an Uber and send you on your way, he decided to walk you home. It was only a twenty minute walk and the fresh air was definitely more comforting than being in the back of a stranger’s car. 

–

Once you arrived at your door, you shakily unlocked it and stepped inside.

“You… can come in… if you want?” You offered as you were unsuccessfully trying to kick off your shoes. Having not sobered up all that much from your walk, even the simplest tasks were feeling like a chore. He walked into your apartment and closed the door behind him. He helped you over to your couch and sat you down.

“Give me your foot,” he demanded, taking one of your feet into your hand and taking your shoe off and repeating the action on the other one soon after.

“I- wanna…” you whined, “I’m… sleepy.” You leaned back on your couch and began to cave into your desire for sleep.

The man picked you up and walked through your apartment searching for a bed to put you in. Once he found your room he laid you on the bed and rustled through your dresser looking for some sort of night clothes to help your barely awake self change into.

The last thing you remembered was hearing your front door close. 

–

You rolled out of bed, confused by how you made it there. What the hell is this shirt? You asked, looking at yourself in the mirror. The shirt was an oversized t-shirt you meant to return to Bachira some time back, but had forgotten about when you accidently shoved in it your dresser along with your usual laundry some time ago. 

Oh well. All you really cared about right now was getting a bite to eat and cleaning yourself up from last night. Walking into the kitchen, a yellow piece of paper on the counter drew your attention. It was a post-it still attached to the notepad. 

It read: “Make sure you drink some water. - Oli” 

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you tried to recall the events of the night. It was all a blur in your mind and you couldn’t believe you let a stranger into your house, especially not the person who caused you so much irritation over the last month of your life.

Before you had time to start processing anything, the front door of your apartment flew open as Bachira let himself inside.

“Good morning~” he exclaimed, making his way over to where you stood, “How was your night? You never texted me to tell me you made it home safe so I wanted to come check in on you.”

Rather than wait for your response, he grabbed the note off the counter. 

“Give that back!” you shouted, reaching hopelessly for the note Bachira was holding away from you.

“Oli…” he mumbled, “Now that I see that name it all makes sense. This is that black and green haired guy from downtown, no?” You nodded, still at a loss for words. Every moment back to your first interaction replayed through your mind. 

“Can I have that back now?” You snatched the note back from your friend and lightly tossed it back on to the counter and tried to hide your ever growing embarrassment. 

“What are you so worked up for? Did you guys do it?” Bachira’s tone changed from serious to joking, knowing he was getting you even more riled up.

“Excuse me?! No! Look… I have some things I need to take care of.” A lie that passed so easily from your lips whenever you were trying to avoid talking about things. Being your best friend, Bachira caught onto these things pretty easily, so he decided he wouldn’t press the matter any further.

“Fiiine, I’ll take my leave.” he sighed playfully and headed towards the door, waving before he shut the door behind himself.

Not soon after his departure, you decided to seek comfort in reading, which meant you needed to head to the bookstore to pick up something new to read. 

There was no rush in your solo adventure today, so you took your time browsing the selections of the shelves at the bookstore. The genre of the book wasn’t too important to you at the moment; you just wanted something to get lost in. You wandered aimlessly, until you found yourself stumbling into the BookTok section. As you zoned back into reality, you noticed someone very engrossed in a book standing at the end of the aisle.

“O-Oli?” The feeling of his name rolling off your tongue was so foreign, you couldn’t help but stutter. Appearing equally caught off guard, Oliver slammed the book shut and shoved it haphazardly back onto the shelf.

“It’s not what you think,” he proclaimed sheepishly. “It’s for… a friend.” The usually level headed and calm man was all too frazzled, making it clear that he was embarrassed by the situation unfolding. The shift in the power dynamic you two usually had was all too thrilling to you.

“I would have never taken you for a BookTok reader. Is that your guilty pleasure,” you ruthlessly teased with a smirk on your face.

“Let’s just pretend this never happened and call it good. I mean we’re even now… I helped you out the other night, didn’t I?” He smiled back and rubbed the back of his head. 

“I’ll make you a deal. I won’t tell anyone what I saw here on the condition that you treat me to some coffee and tell me everything that happened last night.” You nodded toward the coffee counter on the opposite side of the store.

Oliver took the lead and guided you over there, nonverbally accepting the deal. 

“Order whatever you’d like and get me one of the same. I’ll grab us a table.” He offered and then handed you a twenty dollar bill.

The table he chose was one in the far corner of the establishment, providing you the privacy to openly discuss the details of last night.

“Spill.” The command coming from your mouth felt instinctive as you locked eyes with one another.

“I don’t know what you’re hoping to hear,” he sighed, stirring the caffeinated beverage with the straw. “You had way too much to drink. Your friend had already left and I wanted to make sure you got home safe. I walked you back to your apartment, helped you change into sleeping clothes, and left once you started to fall asleep.”

As much as you wanted to believe him, you really had no reason to. “You must ‘help’ a lot of drunk girls get home.” It was a cheap shot, but you weren’t scared to stoop low after his behaviors toward you in the past. Even if he may not recall those times, they still bothered you so you felt this was all fair game.

“Believe it or not, you’re the first.” He responded, not breaking eye contact with you for even a second. His demeanor right now was unlike any other time you’d crossed paths. “I benefit nothing from lying to you, the same as I benefitted nothing from helping your drunken ass home. I did it because I wanted to.”

You shrunk into your chair a bit, coming to terms with the reality of the situation. He was right, without a doubt and the least you could do was be appreciative. Awaiting your response, he sat back with his arms crossed and cocked his eyebrow at you.

“I jumped the gun. That was my bad.” you grinned apologetically while twirling a strand of hair around your index finger. “If what you’re saying is true, then I’d like to thank you. Are you free tomorrow night?”

–

Your entire day was spent preparing for the date you had tonight, if you could even call it that. He had agreed to your offer for dinner; you simply took it upon yourself to invite him over to your place and cook for him rather than go out in public. Despite your questioning, all Oliver mentioned liking food wise was salmon, and he wouldn’t elaborate more about that.

Grilled salmon was always a safe bet and pairing it with some rice and fresh vegetables sounded like a classic meal anyone could enjoy. You also made it a point to grab his favorite beer with an orange for him to garnish it with. 

As the rice was finishing up, you ran to your vanity to apply any last minute touches necessary to your hair and makeup. You wanted to look like your best self, but also not like you tried overly hard so you went for a more casual makeup look. Staying on that idea, you kept your outfit cute, but simple too: a sundress with a floral pattern. Once you were ready you did one last 360 in your mirror before heading to the kitchen to plate the meal for two. 

The ring of the door almost caught you off guard as you put the last scoop of rice onto the plate in front of you. You took a deep breath before heading over to the door to welcome Oliver inside. 

“Hello Oli,” you hummed, closing the door behind him as he entered. His timing was perfect.. “Take a seat, whichever you’d prefer.” You strolled over to the counter and grabbed the two plates you had just prepared, putting them in either spot. Then you circled back to grab a White Claw for yourself and his usual.

“Well isn’t this just something?” He chuckled, sipping from the drink you handed him. “I didn’t expect you to remember details like this.”

You half smiled, recalling the irritation your initial encounters with him brought you. “Well, you definitely left an impression on me. What can I say? Tell me about yourself.” You were quick to change the subject, not leaving any room for an awkward silence to occur. 

After a few minutes, the conversation seemed to flow effortlessly as you both exchanged facts and information about yourself. It was a flow of give and take, where either of you knew when it was your turn to talk or to listen. 

Time began to pass by quickly with you both eager to learn about one another, but your mind still wandered back to the elephant in the room. You finally found your opportunity when he told you about his career as a professional soccer player. This newfound fact made you even more curious about him.

“What business does a professional soccer player have downtown every weekend?” You poked cheekily, as you both finished up your plates. 

A slight tinge of blush shaded Oliver’s cheeks and you weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol affecting him or embarrassment. “It’s actually the way I like to blow off steam when I’m not on the field.”

“I guess I’ll accept that answer,” the sarcastic response practically rolled off your tongue. “How about this then: tell me why you’re so different in the club compared to right now?”

You simultaneously finished your beverages with one giant gulp; the liquid courage from your beverages fueled you both in this moment.

“L-look,” he smiled almost bashfully. “People like me have a certain reputation we have to maintain in public settings. It was never anything personal though.” His tone and body language expressed sincerity, so you didn’t question it further.

As a mix of shyness and drunkenness started to overcome you, you instinctively looked to the floor to avoid eye contact. ”Oh okay…” You battled the silence trying to put together a response until you felt his rough thumb against your cheek.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. We’re here now, so let’s just enjoy what’s in front of us now.”

–

After that night, Oliver made it a point to see you a couple times a week. Each time was different from the last and all were equally fun. With each date, the connection between you two grew naturally and eventually you almost entirely forgot about the flunk encounters of the past. He more than made it up to you with the sweetness and tenderness he treated you with now. It felt effortless on your part to return all the affection even more so, as you fell deeply for him. 

The weeks of memories made with Oliver played through your mind as you both laid together in your bed after a hot shower together. You had just returned back to your place after a night together at the clubs; it was the first time you had both gone since you had met and also the first debut together. Everything felt like it was coming full circle. 

As you cuddled up in the sheets with Oliver, you were certain there was no place else you’d rather be. The way he was holding you reassured you the feeling was mutual. The light from the moon illuminated the room through the cracks of your blinds, giving just enough light for you to enjoy the features of Oliver’s sleepy face. A small smile crept onto your face as you felt your lover’s hands tracing gently up your spine. 

“Yes, my love?” you questioned; he had a look on his face that seemed like he had something to say. He chuckled a little before taking your hand in his free hand and kissing it gently. This was a side of him that only you knew and you cherished it. 

He pulled you in closer than you thought possible and leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in an expression of affection. Instinctively, you kissed him back and pulled his bottom lip between your teeth as the kiss ended. As the tension heightened, he leaned back just enough to lock eyes with you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he breathed, gazing lovingly at you - the look on his face so genuine, you’d remember it for the rest of your life.

[loregoddess]

14, 15, 25 for the Love your fandom ask

14) the ship that always makes you smile Hmm, for long-running media, probably Midna x Link from LoZ:TP, bc that's basically the oldest ship in my fleet and it still brings me lots of joy. For mid-running media, probably Kay x Franziska for AA (my first rarepair), Rinea x Faye for FE:SoV (rarepair I wasn't expecting to see others ship), and Ashe x Dedue (literally got me to go out of my comfort zone to figure out how to draw cute ship art, when I was really bad and afraid of drawing people interacting). For stuff that I've gotten into over the past year, probably Alear x Pandreo from FE:Engage, and Mineru x Purah from LoZ:TotK (also I'm kinda silly goofy happy about Jin x Xiaoyu finally getting some development in Tekken 8, but that's bc I had to suffer watching it come to fruition over like, 20 years of my life, slowest goddamned slowburn I've ever had to endure).

15) the character that always makes you smile Oh, lots and lots. Long-running media would be Shad LoZ:TP, love that guy, I get excited anytime I see him. For mid-running, Satoru Hosonaga, my beloved from DGS/tGAA, a decent number of FE characters (Kurthnaga, Rhys, Libra, Flora, Lukas, Faye, Dedue, Ashe, and Ferdinand come to mind off the top of my head), most of the FF7 cast but esp. Red XIII/Nanaki. For more recent things, Alear and literally any of the Engage characters actually, the Octo2 crew (and also the Octo1 crew, and a fair amount of NPCs from both games); I also read Dungeon Meshi recently and I gotta say one of the most casts of all time, I haven't settled on favorites yet but damn were there some good characters.

25) a piece of advice for taking care of yourself in fandom spaces Block button is your bestie, don't feel bad for blocking people for any reason whatsoever so that you can peruse the fandom tag in peace. But also, if you find other fans who are making stuff you enjoy, support them by reblogging their art or headcanons or writing or whatever, or even just liking their stuff.

Do what you want to see in your fandom if you have the energy. I like to see people excited about things they love, whether that's a character or a ship or something about the story or their OCs or their own headcanons, like, doesn't even matter if it's not my Thing, I genuinely enjoy seeing people happy and brave enough to share that happiness in the main tag, so I try to also share stuff that brings me joy when I engage with fandom stuff too. Share joy when you can.

This is not to say you should never be negative ever like, you should also give yourself space somewhere to be a petty snob about things that tick you off. You don't have to make it public, but at the very least give yourself an outlet to let the negative move through and out of you. Believe me there are so many things that tick me off so much about either fandom spaces or various media that I could rant about for hours, but I just choose Not To Share It after I've written it out bc writing it often makes me feel better--or I go and find a trusted friend who I can be like, "Hey I gotta vent about something stupid real fast, will you hear me out?"

Lots of things in life are never all positive or negative feelings, but no emotion is inherently good or bad, so it's important to let yourself feel those emotions and let them pass without bottling them up. Otherwise they stagnate or explode, and neither is fun to deal with the aftermath for. But like, it's okay to be pissy about things from time to time.

Have fun, but never feel like you have to engage with a fandom just because you used to be a part of it, or you got into a new thing. I treat fandom like a public park, I can go there when I want to enjoy myself but I can also leave anytime I want. If a bunch of mean people are hanging around the park I know there are other parks, and I can just go to those instead and cultivate my own little garden to make up for the park I won't go to anymore. I might even get to invite some friends to that garden. Honestly, most of the time I'm some weird forest hermit who only comes out sometimes to haunt the park, and I think that's just fine as well. Engage with fandom in a way that makes you comfortable.

[yukihime242]

I did tell myself that I should be more discipline and not post and concentrate on my exams... but I'm so bored! Why does the exam got to be next week?!

(GIF Source: arzamasfok.ru thru Google Image Search)

Anyway, let's get onto the topic of this post.

So, recently, I saw a post on the FB Community for Genshin regarding players disliking Paimon.

(GIF Source: Tenor thru' Google Image Search)

The post was basically asking players to not hate her "for no reason" and to be accepting towards her... generally...

The only thing that came to my mind after reading that long post was that this guy must be a new player...

Well, I am not saying that it is wrong of people to dislike a character and I am also not saying that that original poster was correct entirely. There were also some valid points in the comments section. So, I thought, we should just clear the air about Paimon.

1️⃣ Paimon talks too much. LITERALLY TOO MUCH

(GIF Source: Tenor thru' Google Image Search)

Paimon, for one, talks too much. Like even when we are fishing, she makes noises.... And here I thought fishing was meant to be peaceful and relaxing...

I mean, it was even addressed in the game by Paimon herself, asking why the Traveler doesn't talk, to which the Traveler replied that Paimon was already saying everything that they wanted to say...

I highly doubt so...

(GIF Source: Giphy thru' Google Image Search)

Anyway, as much as Paimon can be annoying, there is a good reason why she does all the talking.

First, we need to remember that the Traveler is not from this world, hence, the common tongue of Teyvat is not the Traveler's native language.

And I know you people will argue "but the Traveler speaks to the people of Teyvat!"

Yes, I know, but that does not mean that the Traveler understands everything. I mean, by now in Fontaine, the Traveler's grasp of Teyvat's common language should have improved significantly but it's still possible for the Traveler to have difficulty understanding certain terms.

Which brings me to my second point, that although the Traveler seems to be coping well in conversing with the people of Teyvat, it does not mean that the Traveler fully understands every single word. This is possibly the reason why Paimon always does a recap with the Traveler after learning some new things.

To explain about that point would require me to write an entire research paper, so, short answer is so that the Traveler is on the same page as everybody.

2️⃣ Paimon is dumb!

(GIF Source: Tenor thru' Google Image Search)

I really have no idea how to put it in a much nicer way but it is one of the reasons why players dislike Paimon.

Truth to be told, one of the reasons I dislike her is because her intellect seems to be going downhill as the game progress... it could possibly be just me.

The reason I say this... compare it with the beginning of the game. For some reason, I just feel that Paimon at the start of the game seems to be smarter than the Paimon in the current patches. I don't expect her to be a genius, but to have some level of decent smartness. I... really don't know how to explain this but it's just what I felt...

But to counteract this "dumbness" of hers, she is a literal child... I believe 🤔... Still 😤

You'd notice that most of her interactions and reactions are like a child. You could say, to some extent, she has a mind of a child. Minus away the exceptions, you would never expect a child to know the Pythagorean Theorem, or that almost everything in this universe is made out of atoms, break it down and you have protons, electrons, and neutrons.

While I do have my personal opinion about her intellect, and also with whatever I have written, Paimon is still a child in some sense. So, no, she's not "dumb".

3️⃣ Her voice is annoying

(Picture Source: darxilver on Reddit thru' Google Image Search)

I have to agree to a certain extent...

Many players may have gotten used to her voice being extremely high pitched, but she was actually much lower at the beginning of the game.

You can refer to the links below to compare Paimon's old and new voices.

Old voice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efqQMNFysdc&t=6s

New voice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFct8477oOM

I don't expect you guys to be watching the entire video but just the first few seconds to compare her voices ���

Anyway, her now high-pitched voice combined with her personality could be the reason why she annoys many players in the community. While I am not sure if it is true, there is intel that the reason why Paimon's voice is so high-pitched now is because the company in-charge of doing the voice-overs for Genshin are betting to see how high can Corina (Paimon's VA) go for Paimon.

And speaking of Corina, this also brings me to my final point of Paimon...

4️⃣ People disliking Paimon because of her VA

(Picture Source: VICE thru' Google Image Search)

It's no surprise that there will be people not liking Paimon's VA, Corina, for whatever unknown reasons... Not everyone will like a celebrity even though they are famous and popular, right? To emphasize the point, some of you may not like Adele, or Ed Sheeran, or Taylor Swift, or Charlie Puth, or Sam Smith.... It's all down to personal preference, yeah?

It is the same with Corina here. While there is no one openly claiming to dislike her (and share their reasons), my only guess, and based on the FB post, was due to her latest antics.

Some of you guys may remember that Corina claimed to not be getting paid for her voice acting work for Paimon. Whether it was true or not (sorry, I didn't follow up on that news), it was very skeptical because no other VAs were speaking up about it. Just based on this alone, I surmised that it was most likely a disagreement between just her and the company in-charge.

While it was incorrect of her to give the wrong impression that all of the voice actors were not getting paid, it is also kind of like the whole hating Tighnari character thing again... I am not going to elaborate it because it is a very sensitive issue, but the point I am trying to make here is that while we may have our own personal reasons for disliking a character, we should not "hate" on a character simply because of their respective VAs or representative.

Well, it's quite a tough topic to touch on so I am just going to leave it at that...

(GIF Source: Imgur thru' Google Image Search)

So, there we have it. While this doesn't change my opinion of Paimon, that is being a super annoying and irritating emergency food, it also points out that Paimon is just being Paimon with good reasons. May not be the best reasons, but it is legitimate. In some sense, i guess.

[more-than-a-princess]

A Valentine's Application, written in small, tight handwriting, though not without its own elegance.

your  name: [How strange. It seems like there was a name here, once, but it's been painted over with ink. It's unreadable now, replaced by fairly well-done sketch of a curious tanuki, likely drawn from a personal encounter with wildlife.]

your age: 18

your perfect date: Is it terribly boring if I write that it's the company that makes a date good or bad, and thusly I think that any date with you would be lovely? Then, an aquarium, perhaps. It's peaceful and quiet, most of the time, and there are so many strange and interesting creatures that most people never acknowledge. Even the deeply bizarre creatures that live at the ocean's depths, or perhaps especially them, are so wondrous. Although, either way, I'd prefer not to decide on a date entirely on my own, and I'd prefer to involve your interests as well. Something like, a day out, at the aquarium, and eating together at a cafe, then retiring to watch a film? In keeping with the spirit of the day, 'nautical horror' isn't a genre I'm especially familiar with, so perhaps you'd have a recommendation?

make out in private or in public?: Private, certainly. I imagine that given the crowds that we sometimes both draw, any obvious public affection would invite unnecessary attention. I'd wish to keep something like that private, away from where others could see or comment. Besides, I'd like to kiss you properly, and in such a situation, I'd rather devote my attention to conveying all my feelings with my affection than worrying about prying eyes.

do you like to cuddle?: I confess that I'm not entirely sure. It's not something I have a great deal of experience with, but if I think of it honestly, I can't imagine being so near to you being in any way an unpleasant experience. Certainly, I would like to try, at least. It feels a bit vulnerable, to be so close with someone, but is it strange of me to say that I wish to be vulnerable with you?

tell me something about you: I don't like to talk about myself, typically, but I'll do my best. I like reading and athletics in mostly-equal measure, though I'd choose literature if I had to choose between them. When I was a child, I wanted to be either a writer, a painter, or a marine biologist, and though I think it unlikely that I manage any of them at this point, I do try to keep them as hobbies, to an extent. I enjoy watching films as well, though my tastes have been described as surprising or unusual. I'm not especially accomplished in the kitchen, but there are a few dishes that I believe I prepare to a decently high standard, although I prefer not to cook solely for myself. Also, I think I'm deeply in love with you.

why do you want to be my valentine?: Were I to list all the reasons, it would eclipse the boundaries of this page, I think, and I've written entirely too much. If I try and be brief about it, it's because I admire you so ardently. You put so much passion and enthusiasm into everything, from your friendships, to your charitable works and political causes, to your horror and occult hobbies. You make it look easy, though I'm sure it's anything but. Despite how much everything expects of you, and your own needs, you give so much to everything you do, and everyone you encounter. Your passion for things, and how completely you throw yourself into things, inspires me. At first I thought my feelings were simply platonic admiration for how impressive and amazing you are, but I've come to realize that they're far more than that. It amazes me how you do so much more than anyone I've ever met, but I don't want to simply marvel at it any longer. I'd like to stand at your side and support you. I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries to say that I feel you shouldn't have to put up with as much as you do, or at least, not by yourself. I adore you, and if my feelings and my companionship are desire in turn, I offer them freely.

Valentine's Day Application - Accepting through February 14!

Well...this was surprising.

Someone who, for all intents and purposes, seemed to understand Sonia quite well. Perhaps a little too well, in what she wanted in a partner and out of life. If she felt like being suspicious, she would have wondered who precisely was listening into her supposedly private conversations amongst friends.

But Valentine's Day wasn't a time for distrust and suspicion. It was one of love and affection, something the application had in spades. "W-well, I would not object to an aquarium," Sonia stammered. "Truth be told, I have not visited one in ages, and the deep sea creatures are my favorites. Them and the otters, I think: the otters are so very playful and sweet! It would be nice to visit again."

She nodded in approval at the prospect of a cafe and a movie. As much as she liked to immerse herself in everything Japanese, she missed the cafe culture of home. Not that she was ever permitted to sit at a sidewalk table and watch the world go by, but she envied those who did as she was driven by in a car with bulletproof glass and tinted windows.

"This all sounds wonderful, you seem wonderful, and I am pleased to make recommendations for horror films featuring aquatic adventures. I hope you have seen Jaws as it is a classic, but The Creature from the Black Lagoon, Deep Water, or Leviathan, but for something more romantic for the holiday, perhaps The Shape of Water-"

She could go on and on with suggestions, but that tended to bore others. Others, but not the writer of this application apparently: they spoke of their strengths and interests, some of which aligned with her own, but Sonia blushed a deep crimson at their reasoning for wanting to be her valentine.

"It is not easy, I can admit that in private," She sighed. "Admitting it in front of others sounds too similar to a complaint, which I am not permitted to do. But I did not think anyone noticed nor cared about what I value and what I do: I would very much like to thank you. And become better acquainted with you."

A pause, as she glanced to the name written, or not written, on the form. Sonia frowned: she couldn't recall a Tanuki-san in her life.

"But that being said, you have not given your name as to who you are. My best guess is that Tanaka-san might have sketched me an adorable animal. I suppose I must go and ask him!"

"And inquire after what it means to be 'properly' kissed. For am not sure as to what that entails: I may be in need of a demonstration."

[rainydayhues]

Chenford Week 2022 - Day 6

title: piece by piece

prompt: “we're not friends, we're married" and "Chen/Bradford family"

“Look, they’re probably expecting this. We’re not friends, we’re married.”

She looks up at him, eyebrow raised, head tilted, challenging him to play that sentence back. 

“Okay, you know what I mean.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who had a surprisingly emotional piece of his wedding vows dedicated to our friendship. Something about friendships making the best partnerships?” 

“Seriously? You’re going to use that against me?”

“Your wedding vows? Absolutely, always and forever, every day if I can,” she parrots back, her smirk subtly turning into a small smile at the reminder of their wedding day.

Because his vows that day had been a surprise - Lucy always expected that she’d knock Tim (and their guests) out of the park with her vows. It was a given - she reads poetry, she journals, she’s always vocal about her feelings. Communication is exactly in her wheelhouse. In the weeks and days leading up to their wedding, she’d wondered more than once if they should walk back their decision to write their own vows. It’s not like it was a competition, but she didn’t want Tim to feel any pressure in the lead up to that day. 

But the thing is, they’d discussed both options. He and Isabel hadn’t written their vows and this time around, Tim had been the one to suggest doing something different, excited at the self-proclaimed challenge. And who was she to burst his bubble? They both loved a challenge and besides, she knew she had this one in the bag.  It’s not that she had low expectations, she just figured his vows would be steady and sweet, simple but never lacking in depth - Tim Bradford in a nutshell. 

But on the day of, he’d been the one to surprise her. He’d gone on to recite the whole damn thing from memory, which melted her heart just that much more - he’d had to write them, voice record and finally listen to the sound of his own voice on repeat to memorize his vows. And he’d known it’d be worth it for the surprised (and maybe slightly put out realization that he “won”) look on her face. His vows, the story she didn’t know she needed, peppered with jokes about being the rookie who wouldn’t leave him alone and finally wore him down, sweet sentiments about being the last and best he’s ever trained, culminating in a deep dive of their friendship turned partnership and how ultimately, today and everyday, Lucy is, was and forever will be his favorite person. 

(And if she maybe sent herself his original voice recording to listen to on her best and worst days, that’s no one’s business but her own.) 

Which brought them back to today. Because two years later, as of twelve hours ago, Lucy had officially crossed over into the start of her second trimester and telling her parents she was pregnant was next on their to-do list. 

(Because it’s not like it was a secret from everyone else. Their friends had known for weeks - the friends they chose to be family, who, frankly, caught on very quickly. Seeing them every day made hiding anything next to impossible but thank god for their village for never pushing, letting Tim and Lucy take their time, all the while waiting with baited breath and the promise of celebratory hugs until they officially announced their good news.) 

Things with Lucy’s family were - decent, maybe even more than. In the early days, having Aunt Amy act as a buffer helped (plus, she’d taken to Tim right away and was invested in making sure nothing got in the way of her niece’s happiness). Eventually, both of Lucy’s parents had come to make a sort of tentative peace with Lucy’s career and by extension, Tim’s. He wasn’t the son-in-law they imagined but it didn’t take long for both Drs. Chen to see how deeply and effortlessly this man loved their daughter, the same love mirrored in Lucy’s eyes. But it hadn’t been easy and to this day, off color comments still poked at nerves. But these days, there were also family dinners, semi-regular phone calls and genuinely good moments that outweighed (most of) the bad. 

“Lucy, your mom’s wanted a grandkid since before you and I were even together. I seem to remember a conversation about egg freezing and insurance?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me and don’t you go taking her side again!”

“Hey, I’m on your side, always have been. I’m just saying, where are these nerves coming from? She’s going to be thrilled, Lucy, you have to know that.”

“I just, I know. The rational part of me knows that. They just, they’ve disappointed me before, Tim. I know they love me, I know this. But that doesn’t mean those other times hurt any less and right now…I’m just so happy. We’re having a baby and I have been riding this high for weeks and I just, if they’re even slightly disappointed, I don’t think I can - ”

“Lucy, hey, c’mon. They’ve come a long way since then, things have been good, hell, your dad even brought up the Rams the other day without getting into a lecture about concussions so I think we’re golden?”

“Tim,” Lucy lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“Okay, hey, sorry, I’m not - you’re right. Things have been rocky in the past and you’ve been disappointed and I get it. But Lucy, the thing is - we’re our own family, we have been for a while now. I mean, just think about how long we’ve had Kojo. So really, it doesn’t matter what happens when we go in there because you always, always have me.”

A beat passes before Lucy cracks a smile. 

“Are you - borrowing from your vows right now?”

“First of all, you brought them up, okay? And second, I’d do it everyday if you thought it would help.”

Lucy widens her smile because, this man. For as decent as things were with her parents, Tim was right - they were their own family. He’d proven that to her day after day, before they were even together, really.  In very different ways, their childhoods had been far from ideal but she knew that together, they’d do their level best to make sure their child always felt supported and loved, never leaving any room for doubts. Over the years, Tim had restored her faith in what family was and could be; in fact, they’d done that for each other. And right now, in the midst of her own doubts, he'd found a way to be aggravatingly sweet and exasperating in a way that only Tim could be. The nerves weren’t gone but they had dissipated significantly. Because with Tim at her back, there was nothing she couldn’t handle. 

And so with a calming breath, Lucy grabs Tim’s hand, ready to walk up the driveway of her childhood home. 

“Just - no jokes about a Baby Boot on board, they’ve come a long way but let’s not tempt fate.”

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Call It What You Want

A/N: Another little story matching one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs ever. I feel like Call It What You Want is so under appreciated. It’s not fair. Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader Word count: 1,531 Warnings: A little bit of angst, lots of fluff

Your love life was a treacherous, fracturing, mess.

It had been like that for years and years, taking a new round of douches and less than decent men every couple of quarters until finally the cycle got too old, the warped record screeching far too loudly to be tolerable anymore. So you gave up.

You were never really the quitting type. Perseverance was stitched into your work, setting expectations higher for yourself was just a norm. And as much as you hated to have to break it to your little teenage self with a shattering ego who dreamed of someone to love her one day, you had to admit that maybe love just wasn’t your thing.

“Okay, you’ve had your bad rounds of guys.” Your best friend bantered on, pacing your living room with a glass of wine in her hand, “That doesn’t mean you just give up.” You shrugged.

Online dating was a nightmare. Just thinking about it made you want to cringe. Guys in bars were always snobs looking for a hookup, and worse, co-workers who approached you. That was a huge no-no.

But you loved yourself, and in the end that’s what mattered. Two years of no relationship, no need to worry about a man who wasn’t even worth a mere second of your time, and you had begun to genuinely love who you were. You woke up in the morning loving the woman you saw in the mirror. Your body shape, your hair, your face, your eyes... you loved everything about you. And at the end of the day, you couldn’t have asked the universe for anything better.

“Please, Y/N,” Your best friend, Y/B/N practically begged, “He’s such an amazing guy and I can legitimately see you two being soul mates.” “For the last time, no!” You stated, turning around from where you were retrieving items from your fridge to make dinner with her. “I’m not getting together with another man who is gonna trample all over me like I’m some one night stand again.” “He’s different, I promise.” She insisted.

“That’s what they all say.” You responded, grabbing some bowls now, “And then they’re all the same.”

Okay... so maybe you were a tad bit wrong.

Scratch that, you were completely, utterly wrong.

This man was legitimately perfect. It sometimes stung you a bit that he was stuck with you, a written on, erased through, scratched off, piece of paper that had been crumbled and smushed into the bags of failed love time and time again. But he managed to look at you as if you were some sort constitution of love.

Every-time you looked into his eyes every stab to the heart and salt in the wound you ever felt melted away and you were left completely new, completely clean. He was such a gentleman, it was even the little things like always opening doors for you or insisting he put the groceries in the highest shelf at whatever cost it what take so you didn’t have to.

And of course he knew about your incredibly fractured love life in the past, but he was making you question every conclusion you have jumped to about the word ‘love’.

You were so deeply in love with him, sometimes it felt like your stomach was so filled with butterflies they flew up to your throat. You hated yourself for letting this love get to you, yet you were ecstatic at the exact same time.

You had really tried to dive head in every second of this relationship to drown yourself in the really heavy love you felt for this man. If it ended one day, you at least wanted to live in the moments filled with bliss and not your mind torturing itself with the thought of this all coming to an end, which was more of a possibility than not given your track record.

It was an oddly peaceful night. You had finished up your work for the weekend, he had finally been given a few weeks off. So you just sat on your couch, the little fire in your fire place flaming on with all the power it could, and a movie playing softly in the background. His arm loosely thrown around your body which laid in his lap, the warmth from him made you feel like a teenage girl in love.

You couldn’t help but look up for a moment, admiring his features from below. The scruff of his beard, his perfect nose, and his jawline that was just a little too sharp but not enough to push you away- “What’re you lookin’ at?” He smiled down at you. You sleepily smiled with a small blush growing.

“Nothing.” You responded, barely above a whisper.

“Oh?” He asked with a quizzical look on his face, “Then why were you staring at me?” “You’re very handsome.” You responded, “I just couldn’t help myself.” He lightly laughed, leaning down to give you a long kiss, as you reached your fingers up to just graze his cheek.

When you two separated for a mere moment to take a breather, his gorgeous eyes scanned across your face, studying it more than ever before. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” You smiled at his oddly serious tone and face.

“Would you marry me?” Your eyes shot wide open at the question sank in, maybe a little too fast. He could immediately tell you were in a state of shock, so he removed his face from such close proximity to yours, giving you room to think and breath.

“Uhm,” You coughed a little, sitting up to be next to him. “I um-” “It doesn’t need to be an immediate answer.” He replied, still looking at your while your eyes strayed away as if trying to defuse the situation. “Take as much time as you need.” “I mean-” You said, formulating words that just didn’t want to come out. “Are you, like, sure?” “What d’you mean?” He asked.

“Like, ya know, there are lots of other very wonderful women out there and you wanna marry me?” You asked, more of a warning laced in your voice.

“Why- why wouldn’t I wanna marry you?” He asked with a slight laugh, looking more confused than ever. The room grew awkwardly silent, only the slight cackling of fire and dim sounds of some comedy you would never be able to watch again filled the tension-thick room.

“I mean, I’m just, I’m-” Again, you were trying so hard to just put a sentence together that didn’t want to come out. “Am I really the love that you wanna have for the rest of your life? Don’t you think you deserve something better?” At this his own eyes went wide, in a state of shock similar to the one you were just in.

“What does that have to do with anything?” He asked, “I’m surprised I pulled you, and you’re saying I deserve better?” He scoffed, “I asked you to marry me because I want to spend every second of the rest of my life with you. I know, it’s really cheesy, but there’s a reason I never asked anyone before you. And it’s because I do want your love, and no one else’s.” “But mine’s very used,” You explained, “It’s not like one of those fairytale loves that everyone wants. I’m not capable of that. And I think you deserve all the happiness in the world and then some. I’m not sure how you could do that with me.” “I do it everyday already,” He insisted, “Everyday I get to wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world, and I get to fall asleep next to her every night. And even when I don’t I dream about you laying next to me just so my mind will shut up about how much I miss you. I have the perfect love, and I have my fairytale fantasy, Y/N. And you happen to be the main character right next to me.” You couldn’t help but look away as small tears began to brew in your eyes.

“I don’t know if I can burden you with me, and the fact I just can’t love you like what everyone wants-” “It’s not what I want.” He replied, “I want your love, and that’s it.” You nodded slowly as he grabbed your hands delicately in his, looking down to watch his fingers caress your palms.

“I’ll think about it.” You replied with a small smile.

“Take as much time as you need,” He smiled back, “I’ll be waiting here for you as long as you need.”

It only took a couple of days before you reached a decision, agreeing to marry him but wanting it to not be rushed. You didn’t feel the need for a big, fancy ring, or even some big wedding. You just wanted to get married when it felt right, and now was a little to early.

“You’re sure you want this?” You asked him, “All of this? Because the majority of my love is not novel-worthy.” “Call it whatever the hell you want.” He smiled down at you, “But I want you.”

[mid-weast]

Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader

Words: 2.6K

Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).

Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!

“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”

Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.

You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.

You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.

As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which

you opened the door.

“Can I help you, lil boy?”

From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.

Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.

"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."

"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.

If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"

He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”

You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.

"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"

He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.

And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.

Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.

He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest

You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”

Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"

Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.

Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.

"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."

At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.

You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.

"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"

Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.

After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!

"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.

"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.

"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."

"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”

You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.

You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”

Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....

“Well I-“

“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”

You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.

He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.

When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.

“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.

[tunglo]

Re-Read Break again and I just. Have a lot of emotions. Was also listening to TS' Exile and the emotions tripled. Now I'm wondering what happens to anakin. Will he heal? Does he find his own way? Will he find peace, somehow? He was awfully aware of what's gonna happen to him if he stays - so what does he do now? Swear off the Force, find a spot of galaxy with lush flora and try to (finally) live for himself? I'm invested in the obikin, but I also have money on a relatively content Anakin - even if he's always gonna be a little heartbroken. What of Obi-Wan? What went through his head? What is //going// through his head? I imagine he knows where Anakin is but chooses to stay away. He does, however, send anakin little notes that he's sure Anakin deletes (he's not sure why anakin hasn't blocked him off completely) - just anecdotes. I don't think he would apologise in those missives. Too impersonal, too imposing, not nearly enough sincerity, etc. Idk man. I just have. A lot of feelings for this one.

<3333 anon, this was so exciting to get - just, that it's playing in someone else's mind, wondering what happened... It's extremely cool to me!! I keep saying I will write a sequel for it one day and hopefully I will... But as my track record is, er, not good, I will at least ramble about what I planned!

Anyway, this one came from my kind of headcanon fix-it verse where Anakin's at about the last possible point of getting out before inevitably Falling. It would have to be a big enough break to stay away from the Jedi, and Palps, and Padme, etc. So Anakin would do what everyone does in SW when left to their own devices for 5 mins - get involved with some kind of criminal enterprise.

Pirates, bounty hunters, who knows. I picture him spending a couple of years being fairly wild and turning his back on all forms of responsibility/duty. In the tiny bit of the sequel I have written it's glossed over as:

Here he wasn’t The Hero with No Fear, or The Chosen One, or even General Skywalker.

He didn’t have to live up to some ancient prophecy, or down to the worst fears of people who had only ever been waiting for him to fail.

Because he had tried being good and just and righteous. And when that hadn’t worked he had been wild and wanton and feckless.

Raced pods, and sniffed spice, and kriffed his way across the galaxy.

Anyway, after a suitable amount of time I've handwaved away, and the good guys have uncovered Palps' plot and brought him down - Anakin probably helped in some way on the sidelines with ferrying information or suchlike - Anakin would end up settling on Stewjon which he likes because it's got a temperate climate, fairly laid back vibes, and (though he won't always admit to it) he knows it's where Obi-Wan was born which makes it ~special~ to him.

By the time the sequel opens his view on life is that he might not exactly be happy but he is mostly content. He's doing a job he likes (fixing ships or similar), in a place he likes, surrounded by people who don't expect anything from him but to be a decent fellow human being sentient.

I always think that the thing Anakin most needed was to learn to value himself, not the perception others had of him. He badly needed some time to be able to make his own decisions and live life on his own terms, and generally work out who he is and what he actually wants. So, yeah, the sequel would open with him having had a decent bash at that and being fairly chill with everything.

Then there is an ~event~ that brings Obi-Wan back into his life. Anakin would have kept in sporadic contact with Padme, and Ahsoka, and possibly others, but though he's kept distant tabs on how Obi-Wan is, they haven't actually spoken since he left. Anakin because he thinks it'll only re-open old wounds as he has faced up to the idea that he will always want more than Obi-Wan can give, and Obi-Wan because he'll have been busy drowning in his own guilt and interpreting Anakin's radio silence as proof that he hates him.

My still fairly vague idea for this is that Stewjon is basically space!celtic fringe and is renowned for its ancient ruins, etc. Generally the best finds are in one of the other sectors than where Anakin lives, but there's still plenty of interstellar traffic brought in, especially of students and historians and space archaeologists who are presumably good at what they do but terrible at maintaining their engines.

Anyway, a particularly spectacular find is dug up and everyone's excited because they're going to send out a ~high ranking~ Jedi who, under the terms of the new and improved Republic (aka trying to get over all of Palps' galaxy wide propaganda), have to now recompense the locals fairly for anything they want to take back to the Temple. Then even greater excitement because there's a complimentary find in his own sector. (Mostly so I can write about his new neighbours/local officials/etc being like, omg you need to raise your price for everything by at least 50 credits. Posh people with deep pockets from the Core are coming! And Anakin thinks about his own time with the Jedi and the hospitality they received, who must have paid for it, etc.)

[Something, something, something, the two ancient finds will represent Force balance in some way and trying to remove them causes problems I've yet to plot. The important thing is that it will kind of symbolise Anakin and Obi-Wan balancing each other out.]

The important thing is that they obviously send out Obi-Wan who, actually being Stewjoni, surely has the best chance of securing a good deal on this stuff. But of course, Obi-Wan actually knows next to nothing about Stewjon. So inevitably he ends up reconnecting with Anakin, while Anakin explains to him what the people care about on his own home planet. (Because during all the time he's been 'over' Obi-Wan he has nonetheless dedicated much time to thinking about how much his old Master would enjoy x, y, and z about Stewjon, and whether or not Obi-Wan might have understood him better if he remembered anything about his birth family, etc, etc.)

It's all very sweet and grown up and lovely, and then Anakin realises he's getting in over his head because Obi-Wan is just going to go back to the Temple, and he's going to be stuck desperately in love with him all over again. All the hard work he's had to put in to get his head in order, to carve out a place for himself, it's all put at risk by what he feels.

But this time it's Obi-Wan who won't stop pushing. Who keeps finding reasons to see him, sitting too close, etc. Culminating probably in some kind of accident / care taking situation where a recovering Obi-Wan tries his best to ~seduce~ Anakin, as much as a guy who's never got past witty repartee with people trying to kill him can. Ultimately Anakin refuses because he knows it will only make everything more complicated / hurt worse when Obi-Wan still picks the Order over him. Cue much angst.

Then more stuff happens than I'll probably ever have patience to write, with the endgame being the pair of them getting together and learning lessons about compromise, and balance, and living for more than duty...

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx