#and usually there’s a point at which i’ll say fuck it and ignore those and turn my brain off and have fun reading some bullshit

[roanofarc]

absolutely fucked up and ill over good omens and azcrow but i haven’t read any fic bc i haven’t touched those ao3 tags since 2020 and i don’t want to know what’s going on in there

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 2 – The One About the Likes

As you will soon figure out, I will be bouncing around from topic to topic. It will all be Lukola-related, of course, but the information and speculation I discuss may not be in any particular order. However, I will add in dates of reference to help organize your thoughts.

In my first post, I mentioned our three fan-types. Because this is only my second entry, I will touch on them again.

The Sincerely Ignorant are those that follow blindly. We all know a Sincerely Ignorant. If you’re the type of person who spirals uncontrollably at the hint of bad news, I’m sorry to tell you this, you’re likely a Sincerely Ignorant. But, don’t run! I want to help calm you the fuck down.

The Conscientiously Stupid are the people who push a narrative without considering other evidence being provided to them. We’re all Conscientiously Stupid from time to time, but this category – at least in my blog – is typically reserved for the Jakholes, the A-Holes, the Anti-Lukes, and now apparently the Anti-Nics. That’s not to say Lukolas are not also Conscientiously Stupid. We are human after all.

The Fact Finders are those that collect information and share it. They may speculate on it, but they do not manipulate it. We simply argue our case and provide the evidence in support of our arguments.

Now jumping into what I wanted to discuss today –

The likes.

The motherfucking likes on Instagram.

My disclaimer today: I am only discussing the likes between Nicola and Luke in this post; however, I will use a third party to put things into perspective. This is intentional. The “adjacent” (I hate that word, by the way) likes are a separate post all on their own – but I’ll summarize it for you because, on the surface (speculation aside), it’s quite black and white. Jake likes Nicola’s posts; Nicola likes Jake’s posts; Antonia likes Luke’s posts; Luke likes Antonia’s posts. Let the meltdowns begin.

Done?

Okay. Back to the likes between Nicola and Luke…

It’s the same old song and dance.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Nicola post to her grid.

Jake likes it within a small timeframe.

Luke – maybe he likes it, maybe he doesn’t.

The Conscientiously Stupid attack and the Sincerely Ignorant spiral. And the Fact Finders take a deep breath and prepare themselves to walk the Sincerely Ignorant back on board the USS Lukola. I’m mean, it’s exhausting for everyone.

Do Luke’s likes really matter? No, in most instances, they don’t.

Do Jake’s likes really matter? Same as above! No, in most instances, they don’t.

Let’s take Nicola’s BFF JVN for example. He usually likes Nicola’s posts, right? In fact, some days, he’s just as fast as Jake. And, what about Dylan Brady? Talk about a friend who puts an instant-like on Nicola’s posts! And, another thing – both JVN and Dylan have been known to repost Nicola’s stuff to their own stories. However, no one cares about that or considers any of these “side characters” because they’re not Luke or Jake. I get it. But, let’s consider a few things.

First, JVN has liked most of Nicola’s posts except for the “NY Rats” one [which I will not speculate about right now]. But, let’s use the “NY Rats” post as a reference point. Nicola posted that October 17. Did you know that JVN has posted 14 times on his own grid since then? And, did you know that Nicola has only liked two of those 14? Holy shit, they must despise each other, right? Or, is it more likely that (a) Nicola is busy or (b) so close to JVN she doesn’t feel the need to like every single one of his posts? Now, I want you to answer this question with all honesty: Based on this information, do you have any concerns about Nicola’s relationship with JVN? If you answered yes, why?

Now let’s consider this next part, which is in the same vein as the above. Did you know that Nicola has liked most of Luke’s grid posts? Did you know that out of the last 14 posts made by Nicola to her grid, Luke has only liked eight? That’s barely over half (but, hey, better than Nicola’s average with JVN!). If you go back even further, you’ll find this is Luke’s modus operandi. He doesn’t like every goddamn post Nicola throws up.  Even throughout the World Tour, he wasn’t liking all of Nicola’s posts. Did this bother you then? Is it possible Luke is (a) not that into social media, (b) busy, or (c) so close to Nicola he doesn’t feel the need to like every single one of her posts? Let me ask you the same question I asked above: Based on this information, do you have any concerns about Luke’s relationship with Nicola? If you answered yes, why?

Okay, I’m going to assume some people are bothered by this Luke-Like bit so let’s keep discussing it for a moment.

Did you know that since January 1, 2024, Nicola has made nine IG grid posts that relate to a political viewpoint? Did you know that Luke has only liked one of those nine posts? In fact, I was quite shocked that Luke liked Nicola’s October 15 post of her Time100 speech (if you haven’t watched her speech, it’s on her IG grid). In my opinion, Luke liking this post is far more significant than Luke liking, say, her third grid post about her Time cover. He’s seemingly agreeing with her political stance.

This was a change in modus operandi. A small change, indeed, but interesting.

[smoochkooks]

—chapter twenty: this hope is treacherous

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, smut

word count: 2.4k words summary: it is not a sign of maturity, to cling to someone’s drunken words so much. but for a while, you did.

previous || next

Jungkook [Thursday, May 3rd, 05:32 pm]

How did it go? Soojin says everything’s fine between you

Want to grab bulgogi on Saturday? Same place as usual

Jungkook [Saturday, May 5th, 01:05 am]

Is everything alright? You haven’t been answering my texts

Jungkook [Saturday, may 5th, 03:45 pm]

Can I call you?

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th, 9:33 am]

Are you sick? Do you need something? I can drop by later today after work

I’m worried

Why are you not responding????

YN?

You [Wednesday, May 9th 06:15 pm]

Jungkook, sorry I have been MIA this past few days. I needed some time to think and I decided I want to keep some distance between us from now on.

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th  06:23 pm]

What are you talking about? I thought we were good.

Did Soojin say something to you?

You  [Wednesday, May 9th  06:25 pm]

No, nothing happened. Soojin accepted my apology and she decided to move on, as I think we all should.

It was solely my decision and I need you to respect it

One missed call from: Jungkook

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th  06:26 pm]

You won’t even answer my calls?

Come on YN, this is ridiculous

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th  08:15 pm]

Fine. I’ll respect your decision. Can I at least talk to you in person about it?

Please

“You’ve been staring at your phone for the past ten minutes, babe. Jungkook’s not going jump out of it, you can calm down for a sec.” Dahyun says from her place on your couch.

It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays for Dahyun are reserved for self-care, which often means trying out new face mask recipes she saw on TikTok. And since, as she stated a long time ago, “You’re my bestest friend, ever, ___” you are obligated to take part in it as well. If you refuse to participate, you should gear up for the Cheong Dahyun’s wrath.

That’s why you’re currently soaking your feet in a mixture of soap, bathing oils and a secret ingredient Dahyun doesn’t want to disclose, with a hydrating sheet mask on your face.

You lock your phone and throw it to the other side of the couch. “I should probably just ignore him completely.”

Dahyun rips off her sheet mask in a way too dramatic manner and turns to look at you. “And let that she-devil win? Fuck, no!” she blurts out.

You snort. “She-devil?”

“I would call her the b-word but I’m trying to cut down on derogatory terms when referring to women, even those who deserve to be called that,” she explains, massaging her neck with the sheet mask’s oily residue. “Anyway, I think you should tell Jungkook the truth. She’s manipulating both you and him!”

“If a say a word to Jungkook, she’s going to write a post on her social media and not only expose me, but also accuse of having an affair with him.” you reason.

“Just tell Jungkook she’s threatening you. He’s going to see right-through her bullshit, leave her alone and be with you,” Dahyun shrugs like your predicament isn’t complex at all, and motions for you to take your feet out of the water. She tosses you a white towel and hands an opaque container. “Now put that onto your feet. Girls on TikTok are saying they will feel like heaven. And smell like lavender too!”

You scoop the cream onto your nail and sigh. “It’s not that easy. She is his wife and he loves her, of course he will take her side. He might not even believe me,” you say. Your eyebrows involuntarily rise, inhaling the cream’s scent. “It does smell like lavender.”

Dahyun makes ‘I told you so’ face before replying, “You’ve got twenty years of friendship on her.”

 “And unrequited crush, and a whole book about it.” you point out.

“I forgot how complicated your life has become these days,” Dahyun says, shaking her head. “So what? You’re just going to give up? Ignore his messages, calls, don’t answer the door when he’s on the other side, hide in the bush when you’ll  randomly see him on the street and only contact him once a year for his birthday?” she asks.

Initially, your plan was to wait a few weeks after your confrontation with Soojin and eventually things would get back to normal, slowly and steadily. You’re used to being on stand-by, after all. But that was before you actually met up with her to talk. Before she’s threatened to reveal your biggest secret to the whole world. Variété would never grant you another book deal after such scandal. You would be ruined for good and blacklisted by every single publishing company in this country. You can’t risk your career like that. Not now, not when you’re already working on your new book and this time you decided to release it under your real name.

You think about your parents. What would they think about their daughter? Surely they would feel disappointed. Lastly, you think about Jungkook. If you let Soojin get away with her threats, you might lose Jungkook for good. And that would slowly kill you.

“Okay, fine. I will try to talk to him about it.” you finally decide.

Dahyun claps her hands. “I knew it! Gosh, You’re down bad for this man, aren’t you?” she asks, grinning.

“Stop teasing me or I’m going to cancel our next self-care Wednesday.”

She gasps. “You wouldn’t. I have gua-sha massages planned for that day.”

“Try me!”

You [Wednesday, May 9th 11:08 pm]

Okay. We can talk in person

Jungkook  [Wednesday, May 9th 11:09 pm]

I’m visiting Busan this weekend. Soojin has a business trip so I’ll be alone

Would you like to go with me?

You [Wednesday, May 9th 11:12 pm]

Busan is fine by me. I missed my parents

I will take the train though.

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th 11:13 pm]

See you there

“There she is! My lovely daughter!”

It’s the first thing you hear after getting off the train at the railway station in Busan. Your mum hugs you tight and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Your dad couldn’t leave work earlier today so I’m picking you up instead,” She puts her hands on your shoulders and eyes you carefully. The smile she was wearing just seconds ago leaves her face. “I can tell you haven’t been eating well! What have I told you? You need to eat or you won’t have any energy!”

There it is. The world could be on fire and your mom would still worry about you not eating enough. Twenty-something years have gone by, and she’s still relentlessly reminding you to do so.

You roll your eyes, as you always do. “What did you make for dinner, then?” you ask, opening the car’s trunk and putting your bag there.

Your mom’s mood instantly lights up. “Chicken soup and jajangmyeon, your favorite,” she answers and starts the engine. “By the way, Jungkookie is also at his parents’, he arrived yesterday. Why haven’t you come with him?”

“I had a meeting at the publishing company that I couldn’t postpone,” you lie. “I’m meeting him later today, though.”

“I can’t believe my daughter is going to be a published author so-hey, you idiot! Who gave you a driving license?!” she yells. The young driver raises his hand in apology and your mom huffs. “It’s always the young ones! Anyway, do you know that Jungkook never visits his parents with that wife of his? I’ve only seen her once, during their engagement party for the whole family. You know which one, they did a big barbecue in the backyard. She seemed nice then, but a bit too standoffish, don’t you think? She comes from money, right?”

“Yeah, her parents own a company in Seoul that distributes vegetables and fruits all over the country. They also export, I think.” you reply, staring at the busy streets of Busan. You would probably rather talk about sex with your mom than discuss Jungkook’s marriage life, but your mom is a busy-body and loves gossip too much to let that slide.

To say the last, Soojin’s father is a big name in the industry. Jungkook told you once that he had to attend a dinner with Soojin and her parents, hosted by the minister of agriculture. You remember how much Jungkook worried he might not fit in the family. Soojin grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, attending private schools and going on vacations overseas. The summer after they officially had started dating, Jungkook worked two jobs so he could afford to go to Thailand with her. What was a standard for Soojin, was a hard-earned commodity for Jungkook.

Your mom whistles. “No wonder she doesn’t like coming here to Busan. Too posh for that, ha! And especially now, with two extra people in the house. Oh, ___, they are such cute babies! Everyone is head over heels for them.” she says, beaming.

You smile to yourself. Junghyun, Jungkook’s older brother, got married four years before him to his high school sweetheart and few months ago she got birth to twins. Knowing Jungkook, he’s probably spoiling them with presents every time he visits.

And speaking of the devil, you notice his car immediately as your mom pulls up to your driveway. With a heavy sigh, you brace yourself for what’s to come.

Four years ago, Junghyun’s wedding party

“So, my dear brother, when am I going to dance at your wedding?”

Junghyun was clearly drunk, his speech slurred as he wrapped his hands around Jungkook’s shoulders and gave him a loud kiss on the cheek. You giggled, positively buzzed yourself.

“I’m twenty-one and I just got back from the military. Let me live a little.” Jungkook grumbled and shoved his older brother away.

Really, it had been a little over two months now. His hair had grown into a nice length, the buzzcut long gone. He had gotten more buff, his dress shirt holding for dear life in some places. He’s matured, no longer a nineteen-year-old who had just finished high school but a grown adult.

Truth to be told, you missed him terribly.

Junghyun sat next to Jungkook, opened yet another soju bottle and poured a shot for each one of you. “To my beautiful wife Mina. I love you, honey!” he shouted and downed the alcohol. You could see Mina from across the room shaking her head with a soft smile playing on her lips. You grew up watching them fall for each other more and more with every passing day. If soulmates existed, Mina and Junghyun were definitely destined to be together.

“What about that birdie you’re dating now, huh? Sodam or something? Huh?” Junghyun asked, poking Jungkook in the ribs teasingly.

Jungkook’s already flushed cheeks, reddened ever more. “Her name’s Soojin and we are not dating. We went on one date,” he said sternly. “Besides, she’s out of my league. Her parents are super rich. Do you know she’s been to Paris this summer? She probably doesn’t know how cup noodles taste like!”

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing, then.” Junghyun shrugged his shoulders. He poured himself another shot of soju and looked at you, then at his younger brother, his face weirdly serious all of a sudden. “You know what I think?” he asked.

“I haven’t gained the ability to read your thoughts yet, hyung.”

Junghyun smacked Jungkook’s head. “Aish, who taught you to speak like that to your hyung?” You knew that, from the way Jungkook was biting his lips to refrain from laughing, that he wanted so badly to answer: “You did!”, but he decided to let Junghyun continue his drunken monologue. “I think that you and ___ will end up together one day.”

You tried to conceal your surprised expression with a chuckle. “Me and Jungkook? Please, I wouldn’t stand his ass.”

“Hey!”

Junghyun shook his head. “I’m serious. Best relationships, the ones that last years and years, are made out of friendship. Your partner should be your best friend! Look at our parents! Look at me and Mina! We’ve been friends throughout the whole middle school, tiptoeing around each other before one us decided to finally make a move. And now we’re married.” he said, his gaze longingly fixated on his wife. You dared to glance at Jungkook, thinking you’d find him amused by his brother’s drunken speech, but he was looking at Junghyun, not a hint of smile on his lips. “I think that it might take you a while to get there but eventually, I’ll dance at your wedding. And I’ll be really, really happy to do so.”

It is not a sign of maturity, to cling to someone’s drunken words so much. But for a while, you did. You replayed that moment over and over again in your head. You thought about Jungkook, his stoic expression while listening to his older brother. How he did not protest. How maybe, he could too imagine that happening. But then he went on another date with Soojin, and another. Started working extra hours to afford her lifestyle. Years gone by, and for some unknown reason, you still hold that memory close to your broken heart. 

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- 1 Becomes 2

They say that when you know who the one is you just know. I thought I knew, but I was wrong. So wrong. So wrong in fact I ended up here in small Heath having to take a barmaids job and sorting out the protection from the Peaky Blinders just to keep myself alive.

When I met my now ex, he was kind, handsome, a true gentleman. He had a well payed job and was respected amongst his colleagues. Woman wanted him, men wanted to be him. So when he took an interest in me there was no way I was going to pass up on that opportunity. Woman were envious which gave me a confidence boost… that is until a year into our relationship. He changed from the most gentle, kind guy to an evil son of a bitch. Threats were constantly made, bruises were often appearing on my arm in the shape of fingers, I tried to leave before, but he’d always suck me back in “I do this because I love you” he’d often say “there’s no one else but you. I need you” and I believed him. I believe him until I saw him fucking one on his coworkers butt naked bent over his desk. That was it. The final straw. He didn’t care about me, hell he probably never did. So I packed up my shit and left, but those threats he made never seemed empty.

I’d heard about the Peaky Blinders through the grapevine like most people, but most people don’t pack up their lives and leave to meet the dangerous men of Birmingham.

I finish closing up the Garrison when I hear the bell ring signalling that someone has just entered. I don’t bother turning around thinking it will be one of the regulars

“We’re closed” I say sounding bored

“Good job my brother owns the place eh?” Turning round I see Tommy Shelby strolling his way towards the bar I’m behind, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, peaky cap on his head as it always is. No one can deny that Tommy Shelby is handsome, but men have done nothing but cause me pain and heartache

“Mr Shelby” I acknowledge “whiskey?” Tommy grunts in response

“Make sure it’s…”

“Irish I know” I give him a little smile before turning round and grabbing a glass and Tommys usual whiskey. I slide it over to him as he stubs out his cigarette. I continue wiping down the surfaces trying to ignore the fact that Tommy Shelby is watching my every move making me nervous “is there anything else I can get you Mr Shelby”

“Enough with the formalities. Call me Tommy”

“Ok, Tommy, is there anything else I can get you?” I repeat my question

“Maybe” he replies, but doesn’t continue. Instead he downs his whiskey then rolls another cigarette on his lips before lighting it up. I stand there in silence, not really sure what to say until he finally tells me more

“I have a proposition for you” Tommy points his cigarette towards me while wearing a smirk across his face

“What… what’s that?” I nervously ask

“I want you to accompany me to the Cheltenham Race. I’ll purchase you a dress to wear”

“But why?”

“I heard your ex will be there with his new girl”

“Ok?” I frown still not knowing why Tommy wants me to go with him, but all he does is smirk before leaving alone in the pub.

The day of the CheltenhamRace arrives, Tommy picks me up in his car and drives us there. The ride was fairly quite, but a good quiet. It didn’t feel awkward at all, we we just both enjoying each other’s company. When we arrive, Tommy helps me out of the car

“Thanks you” I smile holding on to my clutch that Tommy bought. I feel him place his hand on my lower back, guiding me into the building

“You look beautiful by the way” Tommy lowly says, just quiet enough for only me to hear and close enough that I can feel his breath by my ear

“Thank you Tommy. You look very handsome yourself”

“This way” Tommy guides me, his hand never leaving the lower part of my back.

We end up in a room where jazz music is playing and many men and woman are dancing. That’s when I see him. I freeze staring at him from across the room

“Let’s show him what he’s lost then eh?”

“Pardon”

“Care to dance?” Tommy holds out his hand, this time he genuinely smiles at me. Not a smirk a real smile. I smile back and take his hand in mine and we begin to dance 

“I’m still confused to why you asked me here” I tell him as our bodies are pressed against one another

“Your ex…”

“No I know he’s here, but why do you care?”

“He’s been threatening you, talking shit about how if he wanted he could come to small Heath and take you back”

“How did he find out where I was? I didn’t tell anyone”

“Do you know who he works for?” Tommy asks. I shake my head in response “Billy Kimber”

“Shit” I breath out feeling scared

“But, he won’t fucking come near you now he knows your under the Peaky Blinders protection”

“Why do you care about me Tommy?”

“I’m drawn to you YN, like I’ve never been drawn to anyone else before. Let me keep you safe”

“I don’t know what to say”

“Say ok” Tommy says dipping me and looking into my eyes. Tommy Shelby is an enigma, but I truly don’t care. There’s something about him that now I’ve had a small taste, I know I’m going to be addicted.

[randomprose]

“What are you doing?”

Guan Shan doesn’t pause as he drops a piece of stir fried carrot on He Tian’s bowl.

“Feeding you, you ungrateful dick.” Guan Shan says over a mouthful of sweet and sour fish. And then, just to prove his point, he also picks up a slice of mushroom and deposits it on top of He Tian’s rice. “Eat up.” 

“What am I a rabbit?” He Tian grouses as he picks at the different vegetables Guan Shan kept on piling at his bowl over the course of dinner. There’s not even any meat in it. “I don’t remember being a vegetarian.”

“Oh, believe me. I know you’re not.”

He Tian makes a face at the greens on his bowl which Guan Shan pointedly ignores. Beside them, Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi are fighting over the last piece of shrimp. On both ends of the table sit Qiu-ge and He Cheng quietly eating and the only ones exercising proper dining etiquette. 

Zhan Zheng Xi snags the last piece of shrimp but willingly relinquishes at Jian Yi’s pout. Qiu-ge rolls his eyes at the exchange as he reaches between them for another slice of pork feet.

They weren’t supposed to be part of dinner. The whole affair was supposed to be just for two. He Tian got a new place downtown and asked (read: demanded, made) Guan Shan come over and cook them a housewarming dinner. Ten minutes into Guan Shan bossing around He Tian to cut vegetables, the doorbell rang because somehow Jian Yi found out and wanted a free meal as usual. He bodied his way in with Zhan Zheng Xi in tow because where Jian Yi goes he goes. 

He Cheng and Qiu-ge arrived just as they were setting the table. He Tian had hit Jian Yi over the head for being a blabber mouth and didn’t want to let them in, but Qiu-ge muttered something about a burned house and a flooded bedroom as he pushed He Tian aside. He never did forget that incident the one (and only) time he bought them dinner. At least they brought dessert and wine. The good expensive kind. 

Guan Shan just thanked all fuck he followed his gut and made enough food to feed more than four.

He moves to put a piece of bok choy on He Tian’s bowl but his chopsticks get intercepted. He looks up and meets He Tian’s eyes. 

Stop. Don’t you dare.

His hand moves and drops it on the bowl anyway, delicately balancing it amidst the rice and all the other vegetables He Tian has moved around and still refuses to eat.

I dare.

“Fuck, Guan Shan. If you insists on shoving a balanced meal down my throat at least put some meat in it too.”

“Fine,” Guan Shang sighs muttering ‘picky eater, fucking child’ under his breath. “There.”

He puts a piece of chicken breast on He Tian’s bowl. Steamed. No Sauce. White meat.

He Tian sends him an annoyed smile. The glint in his eyes tells Guan Shan he’s about to try his patience some more and do something stupid.

“I’ll eat the vegetables if you feed them to me, darling~.”

He Tian says this with a sugary smile not caring if He Cheng is literally on the same table and witnessing his brother acting shamelessly. His tone is lilting with the pet name as an annoyingly cloying cherry on top, all meant to embarrass Guan Shan, he knows, but years of being exposed to He Tian’s shamlessness has somewhat immuned him to his antics. Somewhat.

This is one of those times. Guan Shan takes food and nutrition very seriously. 

“Fine.” Guan Shan picks up the piece of bok choy and puts it near He Tian’s mouth. “Open up.”

He Tian rears back as he looks at the piece of vegetable like it personally offended him. Then he looks at Guan Shan, nonchalantly but expectantly holding up his chopsticks as if feeding a child, and glares.

“Mo Guan Shan.” A warning.

“He Tian.” A challenge.

The table has grown silent as everyone watches the exchange. He Cheng sips at his wine and continues to eat, acting like he doesn’t care and pretending the scene in front of him doesn't interest him, but He Tian knows he’s waiting as well. No one has ever succeeded in making him eat his vegetables. Not the baby sitters, not the maids, not He Cheng, not even their own mother.

He Tian’s glare intensifies, feeling like a cornered animal. There’s oyster sauce dripping down the bok choy’s stem. He tries to convey a promise of wicked retribution to try and scare Guan Shan into backing down but he just meets He Tian's glare with a look that says 'If you don't eat your vegetables I will never cook for you again. Ever.' 

And He Tian can say he doesn’t care. It’s just food after all and he's got the money to eat good food whenever the fuck he wants if he feels like it. But the truth is it’s a real threat because he’s always really liked Guan Shang’s food. His cooking has truly elevated ever since he started apprenticing under a chef that own’s a famous family restaurant at Dongcheng. He’s saving up money to go to culinary school next year. Get proper professional training and get certified. When that happens, Guan Shan’s food is gonna be stupidly hella good and if He Tian doesn’t yield now Guan Shan will surely make good with his threat. He'll probably still cook for Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi just to spite him and He Tian really doesn’t want that.

So He Tian opens his mouth and lets Guan Shan feed him his stupid vegetables. 

Beside them, He Cheng stifles a smile through his wine glass. ‘Whipped’ his eyes taunts and He Tian glares at him acidly through his mouthful of bokchoy. 

Later, when the table has been cleared and they’ve all had dessert, He Cheng gets a call and he and Qiu-ge excuse themselves to leave. He Tian walks them to the door, anticipating an order or a job assignment. There usually is something whenever He Cheng gets a call that requires him to leave immediately.

“Nice wife you got there,” He Cheng comments as he puts on his coat.

A teasing instead of an order.

It catches He Tian off-guard. His eyes stray to where Guan Shan is making Jian Yi do the dishes while Zhan Zheng Xi cleans the pots and pans. He’s got a plain white apron on and a towel drying a plate Jian Yi has finished washing. He makes him redo it when he deems it not clean enough. The kettle sounds off and Guan Shan goes to turn it off. There’s three mugs with instant coffee on the counter and one with a teabag of green tea for Jian Yi.

And suddenly, He Tian is hit with the word. Wife. Guan Shan will blow his top off if he finds out he’s being referred to as such so He Tian thinks of another word. Husband. The word hits him like a freight train, heady with the images it implies. 

Fuck. He Tian will gladly be called the wife if he gets to call Mo Guan Shan his husband.

“He’s uh—Huh. Hm. Yeah. That’s—He’s…Yeah.”

He Cheng follows Qiu-ge out the door. He lights up a cigarette, shaking his head at his brother and thinks, 'Whipped'.

[vemaro]

How did callums and astarions first meeting go? sorry, I’m just a sucker for asty boy with kids

I saw this ask in my inbox and knew I wanted to write it out. Tho I intended to make this a little blurb instead of a long mess lol. In the end, this thing kinda got away from me

Astarion makes some assumptions and you know what they say when you assume things.

…

“Astarion? Is … that really you?”

Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t have returned. Maybe he should leave. It’s been almost a year since the wedding and they last saw each other. What if she’s upset? What if she hates him for avoiding her for so long? He was avoiding her, except he doesn’t want to know he’s avoiding her.

Unfortunately for the vampire, all of his other friends have mentioned how much she asks about him. He’s been able to brush it off for months, ignore the urge to see her—and the love he still carried for her— but a foolish flame of hope has reignited in his heart. If Tav’s asking for him, perhaps he still has a chance. It’s a sign from the gods he stopped praying to centuries ago that maybe it’s still a possibility.

So here he is, on her stoop, feeling like an idiot. Too late to back out now.

He puts on a sharp toothed grin and gives her a bow. “In the flesh.”

Her eyes drink in everything, from his impeccably styled hair, to his blood red eyes, the bite marks peeking out from the collar of his shirt, and those laugh lines used to tease him about. He’s usually comfortable in the spotlight, but under her scrutiny, he’s horribly self-conscious. Tav has always been able to see right through him, whether he liked it or not. Except, of course, in the matter of the romantic feelings he harbors. He was never sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

Astarion breaks the silence. “Kobold got your tongue? Or has my sheer beauty left you speechless?”

His words seem to snap the druid from her reverie then she all but jumps on him for a hug. “Where have you been? I thought you were dead!”

He relaxes into the embrace. Gods, he missed being this close to her. “Technically, Tav, I’m already dead.”

She abruptly shoves him away, anger splayed across her face. “That’s not funny. I was worried, Astarion. I sent letters and you never sent any back. I couldn’t tell if the others were telling the truth when they said they’ve seen you, or lying to make me feel better.”

If only she knew the reason behind his lack of appearance. “My deepest apologies. I was busy dealing with a horde of ravenous vampire spawn.”

That seems to mollify her. Tav plants her hands on her hips and waggles a finger at him. “I understand, but if you can’t visit, at least write.”

“Fair enough,“ he concedes. “I’ll try to find time in my schedule.”

Content that she got her point across, Tav smiles and crosses her arms. “Thank you.” Then she steps aside and cocks her head past the entryway. “Come on in. I have something important to tell you.”

The last time she had to tell him something important, she announced her upcoming nuptials. At least not much else can top the heartbreak that wrought.

Unless …

No. No, someone definitely would’ve told him if she’s … His eyes drop to her middle. Absolutely not. He refuses to believe it. Damnit, he never should’ve come to see her. He never should’ve let himself hope.

Her better half walks into the foyer. “Tav, I can’t find my—” He stops when he spots the third wheel. “Oh. We have company.”

Astarion detests the man on principle, but he is Tav’s spouse so he’ll play nice. “Pardon my intrusion, Terrick.” He holds out a hand. “Astarion Ancunin. I’m—”

“One of my wife’s former allies. Yes, I recall our introduction at the wedding.” His eyes flicker to the bite marks on Astarion’s neck. His expression eludes to nothing, whether he was aware of his vampiric condition until now or had previous knowledge. He steps closer to Tav and puts a hand on her waist. “Welcome to our home.”

He retracts the offered hand. “It’s quite lovely,” he says, voice honey drenched. “Which is surprising. During our travels, her tent was always filled with trinkets and mementos from our adventures.”

Terrick arches an eyebrow. “I’m not one for clutter.”

Astarion shrugs. “A little clutter won’t do any harm.” He makes eye contact with Tav. “Each souvenir is associated with a happy memory.” She smiles and it feels like a small victory.

Terrick changes the subject. “I can’t find my blue doublet.”

Tav snickers. “You lost it a month ago.”

He purses his lips, displeased with the answer. “Ah. That slipped my mind.” He walks past them, heading for the steps that lead to the pathway. “Then I need another made.”

“If I could make a suggestion. Figaro’s shop—”

Terrick shakes his head. “Shops in the Lower City are of poor quality.”

Tav clasps her hands behind her back. “Actually, his clothes are very high quality and he offers a hefty discount.” They did save him from a murderous dwarf.

The man’s whole body palpitates. “Do I look like I require a discount?”

“No, but—”

He cuts her off. “We’ll discuss it later.” Astarion’s hand is on the hilt of his knife. He could throw it and have it land right between the eyes in two seconds flat. “I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up. Goodnight.” He makes sure to lock eyes with the vampire one more time. “Astarion,” he spits.

He has to hold back a sneer. “Terrick.” And he walks off into the night. Astarion glowers as they watch him disappear around the corner. “Charming, he is.”

“I didn't marry him for his personality.” Her tone is dry and flat, almost bored. “He’s gotten a bit moodier since the wedding though. Moreso recently.”

A scary thought comes to mind. There’s no subtle way of asking, so he just asks. “He doesn’t … hurt you, does he?” He waits for the slightest confirmation of abuse. Cazador’s death will look like child’s play by comparison if he has to hunt him down.

She swats the air. “No. Terrick huffs and puffs for show. As long as he funds the repairs and my projects, it’s fine.” But then her face softens. “But thanks for the concern.”

First comes the relief, followed by annoyance. He’s relieved no harm has come to the woman he loves, annoyed he doesn’t have reason to hate the man—more reason. That’s too bad. “Now that your loving husband has left the premises, what is it that you wanted to tell me?”

Her eyes light up with manic glee. “Oh yes!” Tav leads him inside, to the closest armchair and sits him down. “Wait here.”

Without another word, she hurries off, leaving behind a curious Astarion. So … perhaps he was worried for nothing. He was jumping to conclusions, coming up with worst case scenarios. Tav’s not going to tell him she’s with child. She doesn’t love Terrick. She’s admitted that on several occasions even before the wedding.

“Close your eyes!”

He does as he’s told. “Ooh, did you slip into something more comfortable?”

She stomps a foot. “If my arms weren’t full, I’d chuck something at you. Are your eyes closed?”

Her arms are full. Does she have a present for him? “Yes, dear.”

He hears her approach. “No peeking.” He holds his hands above his head, twirls them a couple times, and covers his eyes. Not long after that, he feels her presence just ahead of him. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Open your eyes.”

When he opens his eyes, his heart shatters into a million pieces. Swathed in a bundle of blankets, is exactly as he feared; a baby. A shock of blue hair. Topaz eyes. Pointed ears. Freckles sprinkled on the apples of his cheeks and across his button nose. Pale skin, though not nearly as pale as the vampire’s.

Tav bounces and sways in place. “Astarion, I’d like you to meet my son.” The mother is sporting the biggest and brightest grin he’s ever witnessed. “Callum.”

The words echo in his mind. Meet my son. They have a son. Tav and Terrick have a child together. Those two will forever be connected through this child and there is nothing Astarion can do to sever that bond. He’s not so selfish to wish for an unhappy marriage. The innocent soul brought into this world by the woman he loves doesn’t deserve that. He deserves his real father, not a man with fantasies of coveting his mother.

What honestly hurts most is the betrayal from his friends, if he can even call them that at this point. They knew, but elected to say nothing when they fussed at him for keeping away. Worse yet, she also chose not to tell him in any of the letters she sent. He never wrote back, but he read them all.

With the betrayal comes a fierce jealousy. He envies Terrick. Not for the intimacy of creating a child, but the bond a child brings. Astarion never fathomed fatherhood, never entertained the thought, not even after taking down his former master. He’s only just attained his freedom. It’s too soon to settle down, let alone start a family, if that was even possible for a vampire spawn. Now though, seeing the joy her son brings her, he would’ve been willing to try for her. He could picture himself with a child, their child, if that is what she asked of him. What would they look like? Like he used to before transforming into a creature of the night?

The baby voice she’s using is both nauseating and adorable. “Callum, this is one of my very best friends, Astarion,” she coos. “Say hi.”

“He’s …” Terrick’s. And Tav’s. “Beautiful, Tav.”

“Isn’t he?” she gushes. “You’re the first to see him. Gale and Wyll just barely missed it, but left before he came.”

He bows his head. “An honor, truly. And I must say, you look amazing for a woman who recently gave birth.”

She jerks her head back. “I’m sorry, what?”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “I mean no offense, my darling.”

Tav opens her mouth, shuts it, opens it again then bursts out laughing. She speaks between peels of laughter. “There has been … a misunderstanding … a huge misunderstanding.”

He frowns. The vampire is missing something, clearly. What is he missing? Is there somehow another child? Does Callum have a twin? “What?”

She reaches over and flicks his forehead. “I didn’t have him. Callum is adopted.”

There’s a prolonged silence of Astarion gawking up at Tav. “Adopted?” he parrots.

“Yes, adopted.” She perches herself on the edge of a table in front of the armchair. “I’m sorry, I thought it was obvious.”

He slaps his hands on the wooden handles. “How was it obvious?”

“Callum looks absolutely nothing like me. Or Terrick.” She lowers her head so her hair falls in the baby’s face. “Notice the difference in hair color.”

What would it take for a giant hole to appear in the ground and swallow him up? “What was I supposed to say when you tell me he’s your son? Oh wow, he doesn’t have your hair, eyes, nose, or complexion. Neither your husband’s. Do you have a mistress?” Astarion. Astarion would like to throw his hat in the ring if the position is open.

That makes her laugh even harder. “No! Oh my gods, Astarion. You thought I hid an entire pregnancy?” He’s too embarrassed to say anything. “You know Karlach can’t keep secrets. Not when they’re not life or death. She’s the reason we found out about Lae’zel and Shadowheart.” She blushes and avert her eyes. “And me and Halsin.”

Many emotions are coursing through him and he’s not sure which to process first. Callum is Tav and Terrick’s child, but not in the same sense he assumed previously. Blood relations are irrelevant. Though. He’s still their child. It must be a druid thing. Jaheira has a house in the Lower City, though he wouldn’t call her mother of the year. Halsin has been taking in some strays as well. What does that mean for Tav? Will she and Terrick continue to adopt more children?

He allows himself a half-hearted guffaw. “I forgot you and the bear rolled around in the leaves.”

Tav shudders. “I have no desire to have a child with Terrick. Even when we—” There’s an implied sleep together Astarion would prefer not to acknowledge. It conjures some images he’d rather not think about. “I don’t want children with him.”

He could drop to his knees, throw up his arms, and shout his praises to the gods right now. “There’s no need. You have the perfect child right here.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” She stands back up, beaming. “Would you like to hold him?”

He really should’ve seen this coming, but he didn’t. “Oh, uh, is it safe? Babies are fragile little things. I don’t want to, er, break him.” He sits as far back in the chair as he can, hands tucked underneath his thighs.

She slides over to one side of the chair. “Please?”

“I don’t know, darling.”

“Pretty please?” It’s difficult to turn her down while staring into those wide, trusting eyes. And then there was the baby. Eventually he gives in, holds up his hands with a deadpan expression on his face. Tav smirks. “Fix your arms.”

Ten seconds later, he’s holding an infant for the first time in two centuries of undead life. He peers down at the little boy. He’s probably wondering who the hells is this monster holding me? Astarion has no idea what to say besides an awkward, “Hello.”

One Callum’s hands break from the blankets and finds its way to lightly smack Astarion’s cheek. It doesn’t hurt really, but then he does it a couple more times. When he tries to stop the low level attack, Callum grabs one of his fingers and tugs as hard as his little body can manage.

Oh.

He’s only had Callum for ten seconds, but if anything were to happen to him, he would massacre everyone along the Sword Coast and then himself.

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

i love my mom but man does it suck when she starts talking to me about god shit. because it always leads to her trying to guilt trip me into being more religious, saying things like, “it makes your dad and i very sad that you don’t believe in god” and “you’re depressed like this because you don’t talk to god.” when i tell her that choosing not to go to church anymore is one of the few choices in my life that i don’t regret, she gets upset with me. sorry, going to go on a little bit of a rant about family and religion here (specifically catholic/christian), but i’ll stick it below the cut.

usually this convo comes up when my cousin is mentioned, because my mom and my aunt will gush about how my cousin goes to church every sunday. this happened today actually. they ignore the fact that my cousin is still a horribly spoiled, selfish, honestly terrible person who yells at/doesn’t bother to help her physically disabled, sickly mom. my “wonderful church-going” cousin who left to go on a vacation to hawaii with my shit uncle, leaving my aunt alone at home even though she had covid AND had recently broken her back. which led to me having to take 2 weeks off of work at the last minute to go stay with my aunt and take care of her. during those 2 weeks, my “wonderful” 20-something-year-old cousin would repeatedly call my aunt to cry and complain that she wanted to come home because she “didn’t feel good.” and my aunt, laying in bed with her broken back and various other health issues, would baby her. oh, but my cousin goes to church, so that means she’s such a good person! i just don’t get it.

one of the reasons i refuse to go to church anymore is because of this backwards-ass hypocritical way of thinking so many people there seem to have. there’s just this feeling of insincerity to it all where people show up once a week to pat themselves on the back for being “good people”, then gather in the lobby after mass to gossip about the one trans woman who recently joined the congregation (unfortunately this isn’t an example i made up). or later go to the supermarket and yell at an underpaid employee. or go on a hawaii vacation and leave your mom home alone with a broken back.

i attended church from age 1 to age 18. as i grew older, church started to feel more and more suffocating. it got to the point where i was having anxiety attacks during mass. i tried distracting myself with drawing on the pamphlets given out at the front door. and when i was banned from that, i resorted to drawing on my skin, which didn’t last long. i ended up sneaking earbuds in and hiding the wires under my hair and clothes so i could drown out the sounds of church with music. i would just stare at the floor and try to just focusing on breathing, but it was just all too suffocating. i was told that the reason i was feeling and acting this way in church was because ���the devil was talking to me.” “the devil” was trying to take me away from church and god, so i needed to stop feeling like this and just pray. that time i started crying in the pew because it all became too much and i felt incredibly overwhelmed? that’s the devil. pray about it. uh, actually, mr. jesus, it was because i have bad social and generalized fuckin anxiety. and also very likely autistic but i haven’t been officially diagnosed until this day. so yeah.

thinking back on it now, it was kind of fucked up. but i don’t blame my parents for how they acted. sometimes i feel a little angry and disappointed about how they handled things, but i don’t blame them. because as i watched kids be baptized, i would hear the priest tell the parents that it was their responsibility to raise their kid to be a good god-fearing person. that it was their responsibility to keep their kid from “straying from the light” and avoiding damnation. i know my parents were told the same thing when i was baptized. that it’ll be their fault if i “stray from the light” and end up getting sent to hell. i just see it as guilt-tripping bullshit. it was my choice to not go to church or follow the religion. i hate that this system has told my parents they should feel guilty about this and that it’s their fault that my soul won’t be saved, because they didn’t “guide me in the lord’s way” good enough. i hate that this system has made me feel like i’ve failed my parents. it’s bullshit.

i’m sure there are churches out there who contain genuinely good, accepting folk. and i’m sure there are people who find comfort in having a religion. i’m glad for them. i’ve just personally have some negative experiences with religion and I’ve learned that it’s just not for me.

i try my best to be a good and kind person. i try really, really hard. i just don’t go to church anymore. the fact that i don’t do this one thing shouldn’t devalue all my efforts.

[queenwille]

IDF: Israeli Defense Forces

Defending themselves from what? Displaced Palestinians hiding out in buildings? The children?

Cause last I saw, Palestine weren’t the ones with white phosphorus missiles bombing Israel every other day and wiping out the population,

wait wait wait, let me start at the very beginning- your question about what does israel have to defend itself a is joke, right…? please tell me you did not come in here to waste my time without doing the bare minimum and research something. you owe me that much if you’d like me to take you seriously.

look, idk at which point did you tune into the west’s favorite reality show which is the middle east crisis, but i honestly don’t have the time nor the patience to catch you up in all of the episodes you’ve missed up until now and that’s even if we only focus on the gaza area. what can i say, some of us were just lucky enough to be born into this. others, such as yourself, have the world wide web for free, go wild.

mmm values. that’s the thing, all those spicy stories you’ve mentioned there? y’all know about them, but you people never catch up about how the IDF took them one by one to military trail for misconduct. nah, why should you care about that part? it ruins your whole immature narrative about the bad guys, huh? y’all would rather stick to the pathetic narrative where this is a fairytale where there are big bad IDF monsters and poor little princesses to save. well, sorry, but life’s more complex than that. yep, the good guys can do bad things and the bad guys can actually not be just bad. it’s called real life. not one angry anon, like yourself, has ever asked me, or any other identifying zionist, what we think about any of those morally questionable issues, y’all just keep assuming what we think and dehumanizing us, but somehow we keep being labeled as the bigots over and over again.

i’m glad you’ve mentioned those tiktok dances because those are usually soldiers who don’t even fight in combat and y’all like to attack them online so much. many of them are not even armed. you know which other soldiers were unarmed? the female soldiers murdered (16, one of them by a doctor in captivity in gaza) or taken hostage (7, one rescued, one murdered, 5 still held hostage to this day) on october 7th. shocking, i know, but not all IDF soldiers are armed. did it matter?

me signaling? do you see me giving out random twitter posts by FUCK KNOWS WHO as valid sources? no? so no, i don’t take it as a valid source. sorry, friend. and my best bud al jazeera? besides the fact that they’ve been proven and, i believe, even admitted to exaggerating with their death tolls, they’re funded by the qatari government. i’ll let you google who qatar used to house before israel —— him and who else it supports financially (spoiler: both start with H). other than that, for good measures, when i’d like to give out a source, i usually avoid using, not only israeli sources, but also jewish ones. just looking out for all of my antisemites out there. 🫡

when did i call it an accident? find me one time time i referred to a palestinian death as an accident. go on, i’ll wait. that’s right, i didn’t. there is though, a difference i make between the people massacred on october 7th and people who get killed as a result of war and y’all never seem to like that. don’t get me wrong, i find both to be horrific, but there’s a very clear difference between being gunned down, raped, abused, mutilated, tied down with cables and more to getting hurt/killed as a result of being unfortunate enough to live at an active warzone. i say this btw about israelis who, unfortunately, got killed/hurt from the missiles fired from gaza during this war as well… and soldiers. it’s just not the same, i’m sorry. what happened on october 7th was purely dystopian and the fact that so many of you keep trying to deny/ignore/justify/compare it to anything else, despite hamas (unlike the nazis) not covering even one drop of blood shed or even part of their intentions, is really baffling. even more so in the 21st century when literally everything is at the palm of your hands. it truly is amazing how much you’re willing to ignore just to feed your white savior complex by patronizing and forcing your western white ideology on terrorist organizations such as hamas.

never have i said to mind your own business. i personally believe that it’s important to be informed and get engaged outside of your very own bubble. hell, i’m a SW student who majors in community work/activism. i do have a few questions though. do you do it cause you’re entitled to? i mean, because your taxes paid for it? so like, you paid a ticket for the show and now you deserve in? like when you vote for your favorite singer on the the voice? that’s the thing, many of you come in here, wanting your slice of the matter, while thinking that reading a little on social media is enough. it’s not. be respectful.

[ronearoundblindly]

Sneak Peek!

a Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader excerpt

Summary: Steve reaches his breaking point when you return to the field after severe injuries.

Warnings for a touch of the spice and a vicious/hot argument. WC ~550 *This work is not in final edits yet. All mistakes are my own.

“You’re not my superior officer, and if you think for one second I did anything wrong out there, go ahead and report me. From where I’m standing, I did the work, got cleared for duty, helped out the team, and stopped you from being shot in the head.”

“Fine," Steve shouts, arms crossed over his chest, "but quit acting like a selfish coward.”

“A what?”

“You heard me.”

“If you’re gonna throw a hissy fit every time I get a scratch—“

“THREE BULLETS IS NOT A SCRATCH.” He tries—he visibly, painfully tries—to keep his cool one last time. “You weren’t ready,” he concludes, judge, jury, and executioner all poured into one star-spangled package.

“Say’s who?” You’re stepping closer, getting in his face because this is bullshit and unfair. “Last time I checked, you’re not a doctor, and you should be thanking me for saving your ass—“

“It’s not your job to save me.”

“We have the same job, Steve! We are both perfectly capable of—“

“I know that,” he barks.

“Do you? Because you don’t seem to think I can’t handle myself." You push weakly at his chest like it's a game. "Maybe you need to walk it off, buddy.”

Oh shit. You’ve done it now.

“Walk it off?! WALK IT OFF?!”

Steve charges like a bull seeing red, crowding you against the far wall, a derisive finger pointed at your heart.

“You were injured. You didn’t make contact. You went dark for days, and you could have died. Alone. Out there. Who knows how long it would have taken us to find you. No—“ he cups your chin in a tight pinch “—you want to talk about a job? It’s protocol to check in. It’s common courtesy to let me know you’re alive, and it’s goddamn rude to ignore your own safety.”

There’s a deep line of frustration carved between his brows. His nostrils flair as he waits, daring you to refute him.

“Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Excuse me?”

Steve lets go of you, smacked away by your cutting tone.

“Oh, whatever, Rogers,” you taunt, rolling your eyes. “Play martyr all you want, but we both know you don’t have the authority to bench me.”

“Like hell I don’t,” he growls, grabbing your wrists and throwing your arms above your head. He weaves your hands through the cargo net behind you. The loops are tight and complicated in seconds, he’s so fast.

You can’t wriggle away.

Steve roughly throws the zipper of your uniform down, letting the jacket hang open to show nothing but your sports bra.

“Let’s see how you like feeling paralyzed—“ he dexterously undoes your belt “—exposed—“ your pants and underwear are yanked down to your ankles “—and afraid.”

His last word thickens the air on the jet. 

How can this man launch you into unbridled lust in the space of two syllables? Who. Fucking. Cares. How.

Steve’s fingertips teasingly glide over the swell of your breasts, brush down your belly, and tick their way in a casual walk between your legs.

“Maybe I should leave you wondering how it’ll all play out, leave you wondering if I’ll ever touch you again, wondering if…”

“Yes,” you breathe.

a/n: Tentatively planning to have this done to post on Sunday since the original was a 'Sweet Sunday' ask. Per usual, don't quote me on that, but I got a huge chunk done today which was likely the hardest part. Thank you to all those who sent messages of support! I won't let you down 🫡

[Main Masterlist; Old Dog, New Tricks; Ko-Fi]

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

[pastara-cell]

Not a traffic/hermitblr post, But i’ve fallen back into the the music freaks fandom for probably around a month, so I wanna post thoughts.

I’ve seen WAYYYY too much shit about drew getting a redemption arc. Guys, redemption arc makes him no longer the antagonist, and as much as i’d love for him to get a happy ending, I think We are missing a very obvious plot point here that not enough people are capitalising on, and that is a COMPLETE VILLAIN ARC.

Okay okay, hear me out. I know that, on the surface, this seems like it wouldn’t happen, drew’s stated that he’s done with jake, and to be honest, he seems like he’d be way to upset to get revenge, and I dont think he’d be the type for it either. He’d probably just ignore jake. HOWEVER-

He already hated the club, and what do you get when you mix hormonal teenage boys with back to back bombshells at once (jake spending less time with them, then finding out zoey cheated on him, losing jake, and probably some other stuff,I need to rewatch tmf)? You get an absolute minefield of emotions, ready to blow up the entire field if so much as a stone is thrown at it.

This is where the ultimate villain arc sets in. First few weeks, maybe 1 or 2, drew’s not gonna do shit. He’s gonna be grieving and probably honestly crying himself to sleep, you CANNOT tell me he wasn’t 2 seconds away from sobbing in the drakeup fight. However, after those 2 weeks, this little shit(/pos) is gonna go full on Regina George, World Burn style.

In the past, Drew has (canonically) been the one to start verbal fights, but let other people do the fighting while he just watched and laughed. Not anymore though, because now he’s pissed and petty and is probably feeling the teenage equivalent of his world pretty much ending. Nothings gonna be the same again, so why bother?

I feel like he’d projecting heavily, starting fights with the music club and even other people for even so much as provoking him. I don’t think these fights would ever go past swearing, insults, and maybe a finger shoved into a chest to point at them, as I don’t think drew’s the kind to get too physical, However, I can absolutely see him screaming at the top of his lungs at Luke Because He knocked over his lunch tray or something, which would probably spiral into a fight with zander

Small inconveniences and remarks would feel like a stab in the chest to drew, causing him to lash out. And one small fight could definitely domino into a WHOLE arc. I’ll list a theoretical example for this scenario, expanding on that tray idea from earlier (This is just one way of how this route could go, and is just for example)

>Luke bumps into drew, knocking his tray down. Probably apologises

>Drew doesn’t give two craps about apologies at this point, and yells at him, probably calling him a name and getting more annoyed than usual

>Zander spots Drew yelling at luke, and comes over to protect him. Luke tries to get zander to go off, knowing he’ll probably make it worse. Zander doesn’t listen, and yells at drew, probably something along the lines of “the hell is your problem?!”

>Drew yells at Zander too, and it begins to go back and forth. Definitely name calling, maybe pushing or shoving if someone got too close

>if a teacher hasn’t already seen them, then I feel like hailey would go over. Jake would probably follow behind, but be out of drew’s vision for a bit

>Probably spirals into drew vs zander and hailey, while luke tries to break them up and jake just kinda standa there.

>Drew starts screaming at them, is probably overwhelmed with everything all at once, because emotions

>I feel like this is when Jake would step in, and tell drew to back the fuck off. He’d probably say it nicer, but definitely would be like “hey, quit yelling at them! Its not a big deal, just clean it up!”

>Drew, at this point, probably not wanting to deal with all 4 people at once, would leave, probably taking henry and liam with him

And then, seeing as how a lunch tray could probably set him off, we’d rinse and repeat this and other scenarios until drew just snaps. You’d get tired of constantly feeling as if you’re battling the world with every inconvenience too right? Insert mission Burn book!

Mission burn book is essentially what I like to call drew’s way of getting “revenge” on the club. (Name is 100% inspired by mean girls.) Whether it effects jake (I personally think it would be targeted at the club in general, drew not even caring jake was in it any more) or not, It’d be something drastic. Definitely a 2 in the morning, chugged 4 cans of redbull and 2 monsters decision.

I feel like it’d definitely effect them socially, maybe outcasting them even more than they were before. Infact, outcasting them SO BADLY, that essentially everyone in the club starts to get bullied. And this makes for great angst, and flashbacks to middle school jake!!

Drew, meanwhile, would sit back and watch the chaos, making sure to keep henry and liam out of it. Maybe he’d regret it a bit. Maybe he wouldn’t. But it either way, he’d go all out.

TLDR: guys make him evil stop making him get a redemption arc, the potential with evil popular teenage boys is actually so high

[asteria7fics]

Could you share some EWILY Cartman headcanons with the class? 👀

HAPPILY!! ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

My usual housekeeping: There WILL be spoilers for EWILY through chapter 11. If you haven’t caught up yet, then go read that first! (It’s a lot I’m so sorry)

Also, I’m going to include a few NSFW headcanons here… because I want to. They will be clearly marked though!

Without further ado, some of my Cartman headcanons!

Alright, first and foremost let’s get some of the basics out of the way. When I set out to write EWILY, I had a really specific image of what I wanted Eric to be like. He was actually the first character design I started drafting… while waiting at the hospital for my niece to be born ahaha.

Like, he had to be a bit of a neckbeard, Discord Mod loser. I’m sorry, I simply cannot imagine teenage dirtbag Eric being any other way.

So obviously I've posted the actual illustrations of all the boys, but Eric's appearance was one I was actually pretty nervous about. I don't see a ton of depictions of him having the longest hair, or being a bit scruffy looking in general. Though I agree that he probably does actually have decent hygiene habits typically, he's... Going through it in EWILY.

I also couldn’t imagine him being popular, because despite him honestly being pretty charismatic he’s still a despicable asshole and everyone in town is so used to his bullshit by this point that they’ve all but given up any hope that he’ll ever improve as a human being. His charms have become obvious manipulation by the time EWILY begins.

There is an actual story behind why the main 5 are no longer cool with him (for the most part), as is briefly referenced in chapter 7 before all hell broke loose, but that’s a story for another day.

Unfortunately, I also felt that Eric had to be smart. Is he taking all the same classes as Kyle just to fucking harass him? A little bit, though he would say it’s to ‘keep an eye on that conniving Jew’, but I think it’s pretty clear that he is actually a pretty smart and creative kid, he just doesn’t typically apply himself. Without friends to get into trouble with though, what else is he supposed to do?

I should also probably address the… antisemitism. I mean, it’s literally canon, as is him being a racist piece of shit, among other things. Look, I think there’s a time and a place to sanitize Eric’s character at least a little bit, but doing too much loses a quintessential piece of what makes him tick. I’m not gonna go into what makes people embrace bigotry, but suffice to say I personally believe a lot of his comes from ignorance and fear, especially the latter as he gets older.

On the flip side of that, I thought it would be super funny to give Eric a major fetish for Asian women! Partially inspired by my own love of k-pop, and partially from some comments Trey has made about his own… preferences, at least ones he had when he was younger. I actually pull a lot of inspiration for all of the boys from Those Bastards, despite my better judgement. It does have the nice effect of making them feel more real, though!

It also gave me the opportunity to make a very funny joke about his favorite member of a particular k-pop girl group, who has been majorly blasted online for wearing a shirt with a swastika on it… look, I saw my opportunity and I took it. The kids who got it, got it lmao.

I suppose this is a good opportunity to transition into some NSFW headcanons. This is your warning! I’ll mark the end of the NSFW stuff so you can skip it if you’d prefer!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite being pretty outwardly homophobic towards his friends, Eric is not straight lmao. He sure wants to THINK he is, but he’s bisexual at LEAST with a slightly stronger leaning towards women.

Initially, Eric is very confident that he needs to be the dominant one in the relationship. He would prefer women that seem submissive (hence the super racist Asian fetish, oof king just cannot be normal) and can be pretty easily manipulated, which is! Objectively gross! Bad Eric!!

Being one of the most sexual kids in the show (yes I do have a mental ranking), my brother is fucking nasty. Definitely was the one that got Stan mildly addicted to porn for a hot minute there (a headcanon I never explore but definitely need to), has a massive and extensive collection of pornography on his computer, on top of frequenting OnlyFans.

Eventually though, when he finally gets to actually feel the touch of another human being he gets over that need to be on top, literally and metaphorically. He relinquishes control VERY slowly, but eventually with a LOT of trust lets his partner have more power in the bedroom.

Also, his gf eventually definitely pegs him. Try and tell me I’m wrong. Do they get even nastier? Absolutely, but I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination. (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ANYWAY! Back to the normal stuff. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Speaking of his girlfriend, I know it's not popular but I adore loverboy Eric. The idea of him fighting so hard to be a good person just to maintain an important relationship is *chef's kiss*

Now I won't formally diagnose Eric with anything, but he definitely has some... Antisocial tendencies. We see him visit a therapist a couple of times in canon, and I think he would keep that up until about the time his friends ditch him. Entering his social recluse era oof. He definitely stops seeing the point in improving himself when people are going to abandon him anyway.

So of course, he's still not a very good partner. I would get into his relationship with Yen more but, like with all the relationships in EWILY it's... Complicated.

Alright, I’m gonna do some quick-fire headcanons to get the rest of my thoughts out ahaha

Is the shortest of the main 5 - yes, even shorter than Kenny, but only by a couple of inches. This wasn’t always the case though, and was actually the tallest when they were kids. (TSOB era)

He and Butters have the smallest wieners. RIP sorry loser it’s canon.

Never really got over his little crush on Wendy. Funny how he’s still into girls with dark hair… (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Desperately wants another cat, but Liane has really only put her foot down about this one thing after what happened to Mr. Kitty. Sorry, I had to remind you.

Definitely still packs heat, but doesn’t get away with bringing it to school.

Hardcore schemer still and does all kinds of questionable shit to make money. You know, instead of just getting a normal job.

Wears those super long cargo shorts year-round. Claims he ‘doesn’t feel cold’ but definitely does.

Met Yen in a random Discord server, one he became pretty popular in. Still has lots of online friends that only really know the persona he puts on for them.

Man, what else is there...

I suppose this is a good place to drop some of the other things I've put together for him! You can look at his Pinterest board here, and his Spotify playlist here!

Okay, I seriously need to stop you guys, but I could talk about Cartman all day. Literally my son oh my god he’s so silly!!! I hope this was a sufficient answer for you, dear anon! I’m always happy to share my thoughts and feelings about these dudes!!

Thank you for the ask!! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[decepti-thots]

(I’ll preface by saying: huge JP fan who has no problem with people not liking it)

Anyways I’m actually super curious…

How are most JP fics “boring”? 🤔 I’ve always found their dynamic to be more entertaining than most, given the dichotomy of their characters.

So I’m curious as to how you’ve wound up at “boring” of all the possible reasons to dislike it. 🤣

I'm going to be a bit blunter here than I usually would be on the topic, as I was directly asked. So I'll cut the uh… negativity? I guess? For those who prefer not to see folks talk shit about a ship they like, lol.

First and foremost Jazz/Prowl is basically just… essentially made up and purely based on fanon inventions/additions, and made up fanon stuff is usually not of real interest to me without a very strong hook somewhere in the actual canon material. It is 99% fanon by volume that draws on little to no canon material of any kind but just... years of fanon, reproducing itself and mutating almost like a fanfic game of telephone, all developed in fandom echo chambers. Which renders the characters in the vast majority of fic a) largely unrelated to any canon material I like in a meaningful sense and b) tbqh, the kind of generic stuff found in a lot of typical, large dudeslash fandoms where the characters are… they're Dudeslash Fandom Archetypes with a gloss of paint on top, you know? People come in, look for which character in a fandom fits their favourite m/m trope the most, and then squish the character down to fit into that pre-existing archetype.

And the thing is, J/P has historically made a certain kind of sense for this, because the appeal was basically that… they didn't HAVE that much canon material? In the Marvel G1 comics, they have a little more specific characterisation and canon, but the G1 cartoon is not exactly a character exploration piece ANYWAY, and for Prowl especially he is a blank slate you can functionally project an OC onto. Which like, that's fine! That makes a lot of sense even if it's not what usually draws me into something.

My issue has become that if I read one more G1-fanon-soup fest mistagged "IDW" I'm gonna scream. I like IDW Prowl (and IDW Jazz too!) for the fact that these characters have specific, strongly delineated canon personalities, arcs and dynamics, and both of these characters- Prowl especially, but both of them!- have like. Things about them which are true, and which J/P fic not only tends to ignore but actively treats in a loooot of cases as somehow Inferior To Our Fanon and something to be "fixed" with idk, the power of Extremely Generic Dudeslash Tropes. I've been in many a fandom with Migratory Dudeslash Fandoms writing fic. J/P is extremely rote to me as a result, if nothing else.

It warrants mentioning that J/P fandom is where one does find a lot of examples of just undeniably racist treatment of Jazz in fic, both the truly inexcusable phonetic accent bullshit and also a lot of bad decisions around tropes. I don't think this is a function of the ship, per se, but that its specific persistence in J/P fandom (bc trust me: this has been a point of criticism for A Long Fucking Time) is in part due to it having this long entrenched fanon-to-fanon game of telephone going on? It would be better to talk about the fandom's issues there outside ship talk so I'll leave it at that, but I can't deny it has not… helped my feelings. TBH. And I know that's where a lot of the resentment you will find in the fandom obviously stems from.

IDK. It's just. It's usually fanfic of itself, you know? J/P largely feels to me, in most cases, like fanfic of fanfic of fanfic, and I come to TF fandom for fanfic of a canon. So. Yeah. Not a fan. At all.

[carbondioxda]

The damn snow.

Albedo x reader <33

c/w: lots of swearing!!, the reader is a girl, traveling through dragonspine, reader has a backstory and a cryo vision, experiments, mentions of the ginger, overall fluff and comfort

a/n: second fanfic, writing this at 2am sorry for typos or repetitions!! english isn’t my first language, so please tell me if I make any mistakes, I’ll be very thankful!

as I said in my previous post, the way I write dialogue might different than what you’re used to

She was sick of hearing the crunches her boots made in the thick snow. It was deafening at this point.

She felt hot inside, which made her wanna rip off her winter jacket, but somehow her joints were completely frozen.

,,I’m gonna loose my fucking fingers by the time I get there.” She thought to herself, knowing it was a plain lie, because it wasn’t her first time going through Dragonspine. And most certainly not the last.

Maybe it would’ve been easier if she had a pyro vision, instead of the currently useless cryo one. Everything in her life was about snow. Parents? Froze to death. Siblings? Froze to death. Homeland? The fucking cold-ass Snezhnaya. Herself? Froze to death as well, multiple times actually. Every single time she made her way to her spouse’s laboratory, to be more precise.

Despite her past expieriences she wasn’t afraid of the cold. She used to be, however now it’s just making her blood boil. Only hatred stayed.

They did have a small, cozy, warm, cute house in Mondstadt, but Albedo was stubborn on working in the most annoying fucking region known to man.

She looked up, ignoring the snowflakes on her eyelashes. Right, time for a hilichurl. Poor guy picked the wrong time to be on her way. He didn’t even have time to notice her, before her weapon went flying into him. She was waaaay too pissed off to even try to put effort into this fight, or any other thing at this point.

She flew over to his lab, using the wind glinder. It was a true wonder how it worked in that weather. She stood right next to the small fire right at the opening of the ,,cave”.

- Oh? You’ve arrived. - Albedo noticed, unfocusing on his work.

- No shit. - his beloved mumbled, still covered in snow and barely able to move. He must’ve noticed how much she hated going into his lab by now.

- You were pretty fast. Two minutes faster than usual. - the blonde pointed out, inviting her in.

- Furious too. - she stated, taking off her soaked jacket and taking out a few small boxes from her backpack. They weren’t in such horrible state as she was, thankfully. Albedo took out a few herbs from them, he needed them for his research. As she went further inside, a nice smell struck her nostril. He was cooking soup.

- I see. - he smiled. He wasn’t phased by her behaviour. The first time she had to come there was extreme though, he was afraid to even speak to her. - Those look more fresh than I anticipated.

- Childe gave me those this morning, when he arrived. He’s going on a worldwide trip again, I guess. - she said, now sitting next to the fire, regaining her ability to feel arms and legs. She spoke in a calm tone now, not wanting to let out her anger on the poor alchemist. Fingers are gonna take a hot while to come back.

- Do you know if he’s staying for long? - Albedo asked, multitasking. He was boiling some water and mixing liquids with the herbs, while still listening to what she had to say. She didn’t come all this way to just be ignored, after all. Honestly, he couldn’t ignore her even if he wanted.

- Not really. But not for long, if I had to guess. He never stays for longer than a week. I bet he’s gonna visit that one guy from Liyue next. - she rambled, staring into the fire. It was so comforting to finally rest.

- Drink this. - he requested, giving her a cup with a flowery-smelling tea. It had the same blue hue, as the herbs that she gave him.

- Is this made from the thing you asked me to get you from Snezhnaya? - she said puzzled. - Come on, I thought you needed this for research!

- I did. I saved some of it. Come on, drink up. It’s gonna make you feel better. You need more vitamins, don’t force me to make you come all the way up here every time I see you skip meals or eat junk. - he insisted. It did make a lot of sense. Whenever she was overworking herself or too lazy to keep a healthy diet, he’d make her come to Dragonspine and drink crazy teas, which were probably vitamin bombs.

- You…you realise you couldn’ve made me a tea at home, right? - she mouthed, slowly sipping on the hot drink.

- You forget about all of the things I make you in a span of 10 minutes. They all go cold. - he pointed out. He wasn’t mad, or said it in a venomous tone.

- Good point. - she responded bluntly, trying to forgive him for the torture he made her go through. - But you could’ve just reminded me!

- Also, I need to work. - he added quickly. He focused on his work again, meanwhile she started reading a book. Albedo gifted it to her some time ago.

She managed to finish her tea. Then, he put away all of the documents he had on his desk into a drawer. He did the same with some supplies, only left a few colorful vials untouched. The blonde made his way to the girl’s side. She was feeling warm now, but looking at the horrible weather outside made her want to cry. Albedo noticed it.

- We’ll head out tommorrow when it stops snowing so much. You did a great job going through that snowstorm, I honestly thought you’d stay home. - he said, sitting down.

- Nah. I decided to be productive. I wanted to see you. - she smiled at him. Finally, she was in a good mood. He took out two bowls and finally put the wonderful-smelling soup into them. God, they were starving. It was gone in a few minutes. Now, she was fed, tired and ready to sleep.

- I think I’m gonna take a nap.

- A nap? It’s nighttime anyway. Just go to sleep. - he giggled. He slowly got up and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

- Aren’t you gonna rest too? - she asked, seeing him get back to his desk.

- No need. I’ll get plenty of that when I die.

- You’re not gonna be doing that anytime soon. Lay down with me. - she begged. She saw him hesitate for a second.

- I still need to finish this. If I won’t, I’ll need to do it some other time and you’ll have to go through the whole Dragonspine just to see me again. - he tried to negotiate.

- I will.

- Don’t you hate the snow?

- I do hate it, yes. Not as much as I love you though. - she said, her words sounding like honey to him. He had to take a breath before he responded, trying to comperhend how she never had a filter.

- Got me there. - he said, coming back to her.

Now she’ll cuddle him to death.

[slendytubbiesdeaddove]

Filth Chapter one

Laa-Laa woke up one morning to something so horrifying, she punched it in the face. This was because it smelled so horrible that she actually gagged. She keeps using ‘it’ because she wasn’t sure if this was actually a Teletubby.

It stumbled backwards into something with a yelp. It had been crouching down in front of her so no she was not overreacting.

“That wasn’t very nice.” It appeared to pout a bit while rubbing the back of its head.

“You’re the one hovering over me like a fucking creep!” Laa-Laa tries to stand up, but something pulled her back down. She glares down to see something cuffed around her wrist which was attached to a pipe coming out of the dirty hard wall behind her.

If she tilts her head to the side, as far as her neck with allow, she could see bright lights shining somewhere behind it.

“Where the hell am I?” She usually only swore around Dipsy.

“Underground.”

Yeah, thanks, that sure answers her question.

“For fucks sake, WHY am I underground?” The more she looked around, the more dirty she felt.

“You kept trying to leave the Main Land too many times so Lucky decided you would stay down here with me.” He sounded and looked very happy about this.

“What are you even talking about?! I can’t stay here, they’ll notice I’m missing!”

“No they won’t,” he insisted, “they got their minds wiped so they don’t even remember that you exist.”

Laa-Laa’s jaw dropped. For a few seconds because this just ended up with practically inhaling the filthy scent. “Main land? Minds wiped? What are you yapping about?!”

He makes his way for where the bright lights are coming from. “I’d explain, but I have to get back to work, I’ll check on you when they start eating lunch.”

Laa-Laa scowls but doesn’t say anything because the guy going away was better than him being too close.

On hour passed and she has run into a problem. She crosses her free arm over her stomach and tenses up her muscles. Her green eyes desperately scan her surroundings. Even if she were able to spot something that looked like a bathroom, she wouldn’t even be able to reach it.

Laa-Laa will die before she asks some creepy guy for help so instead she crossed her legs and begged her body to just hold it until she thought of a plan.

She opened her eyes when he came back, smell gave it away. He seemed to be holding a weird small bag.

“Hi, I’m back.”

“I can see that you moron.” She grits her teeth. “Where the fuck even is the bathroom, surely you have to use one at some point.”

Her belly filled with dread at his confused expression. Then seemed to have an ‘OH’ moment.

“Sorry, I don’t have one of those.”

...WHAT.

“What the hell do you do then?” He had to be joking, who didn’t have a bathroom?!

“I just go a bit into the sewers and then just go there and then come back here as fast as I can, I wouldn’t want to miss anything.”

Ugh, ew.

“Anyway, I brought you a sandwich.”

A WHAT now?

“After your dirty fingers touching it?” She wrinkles her nose at the bag, eating would just make the urge worse.

“My fingers aren’t dirty, but I haven’t touched the inside of it.”

She could just sit here and repeatedly refuse but she didn’t want to spend hours with this smelly guy close to her.

Laa-Laa grabs the top of the weird bag, careful to not accidentally touch the disgusting fur. Problem was that he been touching the bottom half so she had to open the bag without touching where he was touching.

“...Do you need help?” Unfortunately he planned on kneeling in front of her until she ate.

“Hell no.” She rips into the top with her teeth, and luckily could just eat it like this. It didn’t taste bad, it just didn’t taste as good as toast. “Can’t you go back to work instead of staring at me?”

“They’re eating lunch and I’ve seen it a million times so I’m not missing anything important.” He looks at where her wrist his restrained. “And you seem to need to ‘go’ so I need to walk you deeper into the sewers.”

WALK me? Just ignore him and continue eating.

She just wanted this to be over so she was quick as she could without choking and just threw the weird brown stuff aside.

“I guess you’re not eating the crust.” He takes the thing off the pipe but not the one around her wrist. Unfortunately he wasn’t that stupid.

Hopefully she might be able to force him to turn around since double ew to the thought of him staring at her body. If she wasn’t wrapped up in these thoughts, she might have questioned why he would have been watching them eat. And what did he mean by work.

[chthonicarcher]

you’ll be interested to know I hadn’t actually read your response to me on AO3 yet at the time of receiving this ask! I haven’t looked at my AO3 inbox at all since you left your original comment, in fact. if you felt bad about whatever you said, you could have just deleted it at any point... (but it doesn’t matter. the entire thread will be deleted soon regardless!)

continued... ->

okay, so first: I do sincerely apologize for replying to your initial comment in anger. because yes, it made me angry! I should have waited until later to reply, when I wasn’t so annoyed anymore. but I didn’t wait, and I do regret that. and, as a side note, I did *not* actually intend to sound condescending—but, as I’m sure you’ve realized, intentions sure don’t count for much here.

because you claim in your ask that you *intended* to “kindly” let me know about an error you noticed in my fic. but what you actually did, though, was rudely ignore the chapters you had read and PRESUMABLY enjoyed (who knows?? not me, because you didn’t say shit about that) and instead decided to point out what you perceived as a math error on my part (which, I’ll only say this once more, because it doesn’t actually matter: I was not, in fact, wrong about in the first place!) and called it a day. WOW, THANKS!

pictured here: KINDNESS!

do you understand why that kind of thing might make an author feel bad? I mean, really, do you? it’s like you walked into my house, sat down at my table and started eating this cake I had baked for you *without uttering one single word to me* the entire time, and then abruptly stood up and left while loudly talking about how *you* would have frosted the cake differently. come the fuck on, man. even just *thinking* about writing things again is hard enough for me right now. I mean *nice* comments don’t even hit the same when you’re feeling bad about your work! *this* shit feels demoralizing. like listen, I get that you probably weren’t trying to be a dick on purpose, but please just...try to have more awareness of how your words could affect people? I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

by the way, some advice for the future, if you’ll pardon the condescension: if you ever feel an urge to get pedantic in somebody’s comments section, in MY opinion you should either a.) be their trusted friend already or b.) be very sure they are receptive to those kinds of corrections. and ALSO, in addition to those things, you should probably say literally anything else in the body of your comment so you don’t come off like a total dick. you don’t have to write a whole novel or anything, as appreciated as those are—even something as brief and to the point as “this was great” is a perfectly acceptable comment.

SIGH. so okay. so.........I’m sorry, but I think it’s really fucking interesting that you ALSO left this comment on cabin fic, which *also* made me feel terrible? you’ve really got a knack for that, it seems. yeah...actually, I’m going to go ahead and request that you stop leaving comments on stuff I’ve written? usually it really is true that more comments = better! comments are so, SO appreciated by fic authors...I mean, they fuel us. they really are all that’s keeping us going sometimes. but...in both of these examples...I really think just saying nothing would’ve been better.

and...that brings us to the elephant in the room. again, I’m sorry—I just don’t know of a way to approach this without being a bit condescending?...but, listen. if you *are* in fact a minor...then I don’t just need you to stop commenting on my works, I need you to stop READING them. both of the fics we’re talking about here are rated Explicit. minors are not welcome.

alright, with that out of the way: at the time of this posting, I still haven’t read your second comment on AO3. if you’d like to delete it before that happens, please feel free. I’ll be deleting the entire thread pretty soon regardless. I don’t need it sitting there festering and making my WIP fic any harder for me to look at than it already is.

with all that said? thank you for apologizing. and, again, I’m sorry for the tone of my response, too.

— 𝒜𝓇𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇

[nuri148]

💝CLARITY VALENTINE'S SPECIAL! 💝

We don't celebrate Valentine's day in this household (we do St. George's day, which is the local traditional lover's celebration before VD was imposed by greedy merchants and pervasive foreign media), but this plot bunny popped into my head a while ago so I went ahead and wrote it.

The scene takes place within my fic Clarity's universe; it assumes the reader is familiar with the setting and the characters, so be warned that if you haven't read the main story, you'll miss things.

Also, while there are still several chapters of Clarity to be written, the following fic takes place AFTER the planned ending, so if you don't want to be spoiled as to whether will-they-or-won't-they, hit the back button now. (yes that was rethorical).

And now, without further ado and by popular demand...

❤💜❤💜❤💜LoveLapsang Souchong

♥💜❤💜❤💜

(1380 words)

It is a cold February day; Levi’s out running errands when he notices something odd. Bakeries offer heart-shaped, red glazed biscuits and heart-sprinkled cakes; confectioners are rife with heart-shaped chocolates and chocolate boxes; stationers boast pink and red garlands, silk paper cupids and gold heart-shaped confetti over flowery cards; florists are bursting with blood red roses; jewelers display heart-shaped pendants and earrings, rubies, engagement rings, diamonds that last forever. Every shop, restaurant and cafe is decked with those gaudy decorations. Even the bank and the post office. It’s like smallpox, but with hearts.

It’s as perplexing as it is disgusting.

And who the fuck is Valentine?

To add insult to injury, the moment he goes back into his tea shop, his safe haven, he spots Lucy wearing a pink cardigan with little red hearts in it. The clash with her ginger  hair is paramount.

Her smile fades as she sees the murderous look Levi’s giving her. He ignores her question whether he’s alright and sits on one of the bar stools, leaning on the counter as though he were a patron.

“What the fuck’s with all them fucking hearts?”

Lucy puts on her perfect host smile.

“It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow!” she says, signaling to her ghastly cardigan with the same hand gesture she uses to show the biscuit selection to clients.

“Last I checked, it was Saturday.”

Realization hits her.

“Oh, God, you have no idea what Valentine’s is.”

“And I’m not sure I wanna know, though I guess I’m about to find out.”

Fairly enough, this is the first year the foreign holiday is being celebrated in Paradis. As the island opened up to the rest of the world over the years, and people has learned about other countries, so has arrived the knowledge of their customs and celebrations. Some are similar, like New Year; others are different. And among these, some, like Valentine’s, have slowly been gaining interest among the islanders. Lucy explains the story of the day with her usual cheerfulness.

“… a day to celebrate Love! and not just romantic love, no, LOVE in all its manifestations. A day to tell your lover, your best friends, all your favourite people, just how much they mean to you,” she concludes.

Levi is not amused.

“Utterly revolting.”

Lucy sighs loudly in frustration. “Why. Enlighten me,” she defies, hands akimbo.

“Tch. Corny as fuck. Why would I force any of that tacky heart shit on my loved ones? You don’t need a special day to show your affection.”

“I’ll concede that the Aesthetics of it may not be to everyone’s taste, but maybe you should consider giving your girlfriend something, you know, just in case. It doesn’t need to have hearts in it.”

“See?” he points with his missing fingers. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. Guilt-tripping people into consumism. Mikasa knows I don’t give a flying fuck about this kind of schemes. Besides, I just gave her a birthday present.”

Lucy looks sceptical, tilts her head and returns to work.

“If you change your mind,” she says, “I can share some ideas for the shop."

“Over my dead body,” he mumbles, then walks into the back office.

The door opens and Mikasa and Emma step in. Levi comes out on hearing the greetings; Mikasa blows him a kiss as she hangs her coat and hat on the rack and rushes to the bathroom. Emma tries to take out her coat without releasing her school bag, fumbles a lot, her blonde locks get all tussled and the coat ends up on the wrong side and into the umbrella stand.

“Leeevi!” she calls to him, more excitedly than usual.

“What’s the hurry that you mess your clothes like that? Your mother’s gonna have something to say …” Emma’s not listening; she’s laid her briefcase on the closest bar stool and is picking something from inside it.

“Here! For you!” she says, handing Levi a … card? He takes it, naturally.

“’The fuck is this?”

Her little face is glowing. “A valentine! We made them at school.”

Levi looks at the card, made of plain construction paper. The cover is a colourful pencil drawing of a heart-shaped teacup with its saucer and a heart-shaped cookie on the side. From the cup hangs a tea-bag string, and the label says “Lovesang Souchong”. On the top, two hearts, one red and one pink, and the phrase “Happy Valentine’s Day!” in purple letters.

He opens it, reads it.

He stands still, eyes fixed on the squiggly words of the five-year-old brat. He swallows.

“Thanks.” His voice comes out barely a whisper.

“Do you like it?” Emma asks, all smiles, and hugs his waist. Levi lays the card on the bar to hug her back.

“Yeah,” he mutters. Emma lets go of him and takes a look at the shop.

“Aren’t you going to do any Valentine Day’s specials?”

Levi hesitates for a moment.

“Er … We were just discussing that with Lucy. Lucy?”

Lucy’s face is contorted in an unfathomable expression: she’s been doing such an abysmal job at pretending not to be completely engrossed in the exchange that’s just taken place.

“Yes, I was thinking we could highlight the red berries tea, and the baker left a list of the themed biscuits he’ll be making, too.” While Lucy makes her speech, Mikasa has come back and perches on a stool, listening with interest. “He showed me a sample of a new cake; it’s called red velvet and it’s not cheap, but it’s absolutely to die for. As for decorations …”

“Is this about Valentine’s Day?” Mikasa asks. The others answer in the affirmative. She looks at Levi. “I thought you wouldn’t care about this kind of things.”

His ears go red.

“Well … every other shop in town is doing something, we can’t be any less, right?”

Mikasa nods appraisingly, glances at Lucy, who mirrors the appreciation while very discreetly gesturing to the valentine now lying on the corner of the bar. Mikasa gets up.

“Can we get that cake Lucy just said?” Emma has the perfect puppy eyes; not that she needs them.

“Sure,” Levi says, ruffling her hair. “Ginger, you take care of everything.”

“Emma, is this how you hang your coat?” her mother says, pointing to the umbrella stand. The little one goes to put it properly and Mikasa walks to the bar.

“What’s this?” She picks up the card.

“From Minimin,” he says, averting his eyes like he don’t care.

“I’m going to do my homework.” Emma leaves through the house door.

“May I?” Mikasa asks gently. He shrugs.

There are no customers at the moment; the only sound is Lucy placing the baked goods order on the telephone.

Mikasa opens the card and reads. Her lips curl slowly in a blissful smile. She gives the card back to Levi; his fingers graze hers as he takes it and their gazes cross. The tenderness in Mikasa’s eyes is sweeter than all the heart-shaped chocolates, softer than all the rose petals, brighter than all the diamonds.

She gives him a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kiss on the cheek and gets inside the house.

Levi takes a deep breath, goes to the till and hands Lucy some money to go buy decorations. "Just don’t go overboard with it,” he pleads. She acknowledges the instructions, thankfully quieter than her usual self, and leaves.

Now alone, Levi looks at the card again. Then, he rummages in the cupboard beneath the till for supplies. He wraps the card with a piece of cellophane, securing it tautly with sellotape. Next, he pins it to the wall, right beneath the framed picture of the tea shop Emma gave him months ago.

He contemplates the humble art display, sipping the tea Lucy brewed before leaving.

The smoky woodiness filling his throat is the perfect counter balance to the sickly-sweet profusion of romantic imagery. And yet, there’s something titillating in that bouquet; a sense of intimacy … Levi imagines himself cuddling with Mikasa by the fire, under a pile of blankets, in a secluded cabin, oblivious to the raging winter outside.

Lovesang Souchong, the damn brat wrote on that card. There’s an idea for a holiday special. His mouth quirks into a sardonic smile.

“Fucking Valentine.”

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙