#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.

[norissisca]

“I wish to be with you in my final moments, my love”

PTII — TEASER

Satoru x Suguru x Non-Sorc!Reader

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT : fempov

content warning : gore, thoughts of cannibalism, death, angst, miscarriage, alcohol, mention of rape, horror themes, psychosis, suicide

a/n : I felt bad for making my snookums wait and with my recent problems with tumblr and then deleting my whole draft, I had to re-write it so here is the beginning teaser of ptII. I hope you guys can tell what the first bit of the fanfics are, hehe always love challenging people into little puzzles

PT I

August 10th, 2017, at around midnight,

Commence of investigation and assessment

Like usual he had to say something snarky, always having the last word to those elders. . . God, I should’ve killed them ages ago. But whatever. A smirked piqued as he spun around his heel and pulled up his blindfold, concealing his icy blue eyes, as if the thought of seeing those old ragged men seeing a flash of purple before they were wiped clean from the Earth gave him euphoria.

“Fucking hell. . . Seriously, it’s just a body that is unidentifiable, these second-grades keep getting more pathetic and pathetic as they go. Makes my white hair turn whi— no, no, no, black.”

He would whine and complain, swinging his hands around to express more dramatic key to how he’s currently feeling. He’d teleport himself to the site, stretching his lanky arms and his long legs took wide steps, shoving his hands in his pocket with a pout on his face. Striding past Ijichi as he began his usual “important” rambling, breaking down the suspicion of the attack and how the investigation will play out which as expected Satoru literally always ignore him and simply waved his hand as if he already knows everything.

“Soooo. . . Do you know who this person is or are we gonna play guess who with this body.”

Ijichi would adjust his glasses as he let out a soft sigh as he had to repeat himself yet again. Satoru nodding as he continued with the information.

“Gojo-san, if you heard me correctly, the body is completely mutilated to the point the body is unidentifiable, we don’t even know the sex of the person. . . At the moment all we are suspecting is that this curse must’ve eaten its way in or out of the lower stomach, we be—“

“Euughhh! Now thats just gross, I’ll give credit to the curse for trynna be a weirdo. Cause that’s just outright weird, but nothin that isn’t past my big leagues.”

“Right. Anyways, as I was stating, we believe this theory because although the body is completely disorientated we can tell it was from the lower stomach due to the massive hole in it that its the focal point of the attack.”

Satoru would abruptly stopped walking making Ijichi speed walking into a halt which merely made him skid to the pole in front of him. Satoru would tug one of his hand out of his pocket and lazily point to the alleyway with the corpse in it. Although they can’t see the body yet due to how deep it was into the alleyway, it was evidential that it was there because of the rotting stench kissing their noses and that made the both of them grimace (mostly Ijichi).

“If that’s so, has any of you dudes found the curse yet?”

“Uh, no. That’s why you’re here, the second grade won’t talk. He’s in a state of shock from seeing the body, so it was quite hard to ask if he’s seen the curse or not.”

“Welp! I’m only guessing you want me to ask?. . . Jesus, ‘state of shock’. This guy is obviously weak as hell, can’t even handle the sight of a body torn up!”

He would’ve grumble the insult underneath his breath, obviously he was currently pissed off as the investigation is being dragged out even more all because some second grade is being a pussy. Ijichi notice the aura change of Satoru, which made him a teeny bit scared of him.

Man, I wonder how my sweets is pulling up. Lowk kinda worried about her since the past few weeks, she’s been acting strange. . . Like real fuckin’ stran—

Until it struck him. The scent of nostalgia, it reminded him back in his school days. That smell coming from the alleyway where the body was located, it was no doubt. . . Suguru

[perseus-jackass]

okay we've got jason & dick fans who hate what fandom does to tim. im mostly a damian stan and i have to say that everytime i see a post by a tim fan that says ANYTHING abt any of the al ghuls, it ends up being the weirdest grossest stuff ever. do they even realize how they sound????? a lot of posts abt the al ghuls end up being abt tim somehow and ive already blocked so many ppl. but it never stops.

i still think of that panel where tim puts damian on his "contingency" list and says its bc of his "biology"🤮🤮🤮🤮

and for a while there were a lot of posts that made jokes abt how tim had the highest kill count in the family. Like are you flexing that?????

also for the sake of jason's fans ive got to mention red hood tim aus. the only way he gets to be red hood if you flipped the batfams ages around is if you straight up ignore women and poc characters - and then tim fans do. But no he would not give a shit abt crime alley lmao he was rich and grew up rich and spoiled and has nothing in common w these people

YES YES YES OMG THANK YOUUUUUU i’ve said up before, I’ll say it again.

If you have not read a comic that they’re in pre-911 you don’t get to speak on the Al Ghuls. 

And for the most part, it’s usually Ra’s or Damian, but I’ve seen Talia catch a few strays from Tim fans too!! Which pisses me off like you do not know my wife. I just don’t understand how they can’t see the blatant racism. I am beating them away from Ra’s and Damian with a stick.

I have not read that because I make a point to avoid Tim reading stuff. And more specifically early Tim and Damian stuff because of the way Damian is written, BUT THATS INSANE WTF. I will have to go to my Damian fan mutuals about this. That’s genuinely so racist. What the fuck who wrote that? Was it Morrison? It was probably Morrison. 

“Tim has the highest kill count in the family.” I WILL KILL YOU. It’s basic comic book logic that if the deaths do not happen on screen, they did not happen. THOSE BASES DONT FUCKING COUNT OMG

Also, thank you for the reverse robins comment. Those are the bane of my existence. If we’re gonna reverse robins, either Steph is Red Hood or we just reverse the order and keep the roles the same.

You’re absolutely right about Tim not giving a shit about Crime Alley. The whole reason Jason made that his whole thing is cause that’s where he’s from, those were his people, he loved them. Tim doesn’t have that. 

But yeah, Tim stans ignoring women and POC once again? I’m so surprised. 

[aphelionwrotes11]

Hello people! :)

PT 1

Anakin!spiderman x reader

CW: descriptions of violence, light stalking, slow burn, enemies to lovers, pining, fluff, reader bullies anakin (hes into it), nerd anakin, academic rivals, banter, lemme know if I’m missing anything.

The reason he’s called Anakin parker instead of Skywalker will be revealed later >:D

As per usual ignore any and all spelling and grammar errors. Sorryyyy

WC: 4.7k

Another day in the quiet campus library hitting the books. Not exactly how you had planned on spending your early twenties. In the Ivy League school of your choice, New York City, studying fat old books so that you can excel in yet another midterm, and for what? Anakin Parker. That’s what. Your academic rival and determined thorn in your side.

You and Mary wandered through the seemingly endless shelves of books, fifteen minutes had passed and you still hadn’t managed to find the quantum theory textbook you needed to study. The two of you had gone through the STEM section twice, her fingers grazing the shelf as you studied the titles.

”Any luck?” Mary asks, grimacing as she pulls back her fingers to find them coated in dust. “Ugh, where could this dumb book be, dude? Like.. literally no one comes back here.” She whispers, glaring at the tall shelves.

You sigh, “no clue. It should be somewhere around here.” Your eyes narrow at the shelf in front of you, the library is ordered alphabetically, the book in theory should be right here.

“Guess someone got to it before you.. wonder who that could be.” Mary sighed, rolling her eyes.

You know who she’s referring to. You moved here two years ago and there has only been one guy that’s given you any trouble.

“No. He wouldn’t have. There’s no way he could know there’s gonna be a quantum theory section on professor Harvey’s test.” You whisper to yourself. “The TA told me himself that no one else knows.” You emphasize, Carl had swore up and down that not another soul knew what he had told you.

“Yeaaah, not gonna lie though, who knows how many people he actually told. It’s not like nobody else has a spare twenty to slip him for some test tips, girl.” Mary replied casually. “And if you’re willing to go that far then you know damn well he would be too, he’s like the only one on your level.”

”How would he even know to bribe the TA, Mary? Carl is literally never around for lectures, nobody in Harvey’s class even knows hes got a TA.” You reply, exasperated. Now that you think about it, he was quite quick to snatch that twenty from your fingers. It was too easy to get anything out of him to actually trust his promises of exclusivity.

Mary shrugs, “I dunno, he’s got his ways.” She sighs, “I swear he’s got sixth sense or something.”

”Yeah a sixth sense for how to be an absolute nuisance.” You grumble.

Mary chuckles quietly, turning the corner before coming to a halt. “Well, you’ve got that right.” She says with a smirk, pointing to something.

You furrow your brows, coming up behind her and following her finger to a stack of books, your book included, resting beside none other than Anakin Parker.

“Fuck.” You mumble, rubbing your hand down your face.

“Want me to talk to him?” She smiles.

”no, no, Ive got it.”

”Alright.” She shrugs, “I’ll be over here, lemme know if you need me to put him in his place.” She says with an evil grin.

“Okay psycho.” You giggle as she wanders toward the history section.

The sigh you release is heavy as you walk towards an inevitable headache.

You half expect to surprise him, given how engrossed he seems to be in the material he’s studying, but as if sensing you near he straightens and turns to you with wide eyes.

”Hey.” He says with a cool smile, a halfhearted attempt at nonchalantness.

You frown, “Hi.” Glancing over at his stack of books. “Do you need the whole library or do you think I could borrow one of those?” You say, pointing to his stack.

He looks back, “depends on which one it is.” He smirks boyishly, his lips curling over his teeth. You wonder for a moment if he’s had them whitened.

You give him a sour look. “The quantum theory textbook.”

He raises his brow and pulls the book from the middle, turning it over, “huh, really? Didn’t know you had an interest in quantum theory.” He says with clear faux surprise.

“Yeah, suddenly decided I just can’t live without it. So can you hand it over? I only need it for the hour.” You reply flatly.

He sucks his teeth, “eh.. I dunno. Thanks to you I actually just remembered that I was supposed to be reading this, so I don’t think I can give it up. Maybe some other time.” He grins. And again, your vision zones in on his mouth. His stupid mouth.

You shoot him a glare and he swallows thickly, glancing away as if he’s nervous.

“Listen, I don’t know how, but I know you KNOW there’s going to be a quantum theory part in Harveys test. And I also know that your nerdy ass has probably read that book from cover to cover. So please, do me this one favor.” You grit. Only two hours until Harvey’s exam, you picked the worst time to cram.

He stares at the book in his hands, not daring to look at you. “Well.. this is actually the only one I haven’t read yet.” He gives you a crooked smile.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. “Really?”

He nods. “Yes, really.” He flattens his lips

you suck in a breath. He’s obviously lying, but you have no idea why. “Well what can we do then? Cuz I need to study and I really don’t have the time for this. Can we just take turns every thirty minutes or something?”

he raises his brows, “That doesn’t sound like it would be very productive.” He glances at you and the chair beside him. “Um… How about we just study together?”

You drop your shoulders, clearly disappointed at his proposition.

he frowns, nearly a pout, “not really any better options at the moment.”

You want to say he could just give you the book and miss a few points for once in his life, if at all, god only knows how much home research hes probably already doing about quantum theory and whatever else.

you sigh, he flinches as you toss your bag on the ground beside him and settle into the open chair.

“Guess not.” You reply.

He shuffles in his seat as if making space for you even though there’s enough distance to keep you comfortable. You glance at him expectantly, his hands still clutching the book to his chest.

You jut your head at the table, “Well? Can we get started?” You sound more impatient than you intended.

“Uh- yeah- well, do you wanna get setup first?” He asks, his brows furrowed and face tight, like hes afraid you’ll blow up at him or something.

You click your tongue, your cheeks twinging pink. “Right, yeah.” You say reaching for your bag. He waits patiently for you to lay out your materials before opening the book to a specific chapter.

“Is this what we’re meant to be studying?” You ask.

“Uh- yeah I think so.” He seems fidgety, you give him a look but don’t bother to ask why.

Time goes by fairly quick after that, the two of you sit side by side writing fervently. He clearly finishes his notes before you but always waits to turn the page. You don’t comment, but you do notice it. A quiet act of helpfulness. He seems to make it a point to press the end of his pencil to certain paragraphs that he deems important. If you weren’t so helpless when it came to this type of science you would ignore his cues to help you, but you decide to put your pride away just this once. And besides, if he notices you taking extra care in writing the notes on what hes pointing out he doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t even make a face, aside from the occasional smile when you lean in to read his notes.

Your phone pings, and that seems to pull the both of you out of whatever state you were in. He looks at you with raised brows and quickly glances down at his watch.

“Shit- uh, its 2:30, we gotta go!” He whispers, jumping up and all but shoving his stuff into his bag with surprising swiftness.

You jump up too, and rather gracelessly begin shoving your things into your bag. He helps a bit, gathers pencils and strewn about papers before passing them to you.

He throws a sideways glance at his stack of books before looking back at his watch.

“No time..” he looks to you, “we’ll have to come back for them.”

”right, okay, lets go!” You reply in a frenzy, herding him towards the door. Professor Harvey’s classroom is across campus. On a normal day it would take you twenty minutes to get there from the library.

Anakin walks ahead of you with haste, glancing back occasionally to see that you're still behind him. By the time the two of you are halfway there, you’re already out of breath and the distance between you and him is growing.

“Damnit, slow down!” You cry, you don’t even know why. It’s not like the two of you have to get there together. Hell, he could already be there by now if he left you behind.

He slows and turns to you, he doesn’t even look tired. “Come on, we’re almost there!”

You groan but his steps don’t falter, you lightly jog up to him, grabbing onto his elbow.

“How are you so fast?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer, but he looks down at where your hand is on him, and his expression is unreadable. You pull away as if you’d been scorched.

“Oh- sorry.” You mumble, struggling to speak and keep up with him.

“No- it’s-“ he cuts himself off, staring at your arm. “Here.”

He reaches for you and loops your arm with his before picking up the pace, you hadn’t even noticed that you two slowed down before. Now, he was practically dragging you.

“What the hell, Anakin!” You panted.

He’s throws you an empathetic smile, giving your arm a small tug. “You got this, we’ll make it.” He looks at his watch and sucks in a breath. “Gotta pick up the pace a bit.”

“Fuck- okay.” You groan.

What a sight it is, the two of you arm in arm jogging across campus. Well, you’re running, hes jogging. You’re too breathless to feel humiliated, you probably look a mess. Hair strewn about, cheeks red, panic etched over your features. By the time you’ve reached the building and Anakin whispers the time being 2:37, you’re hit with enough adrenaline to propel yourself up the two flights of stairs at his side.

You both reach the door with a minute to spare, you’re sucking in air like its drowning you and he looks as fresh as ever.

“Ugh- god.” You whimper, putting a hand to your chest to calm your racing heart, you notice him staring at you in awe.

“What?” You ask breathlessly. He cheeks redden, like hes surprised he got caught.

“Uh- nothing, you alright?” He asks with a worried smile.

“Just peachy.” You reply sarcastically, attempting to fix yourself. You straighten your shirt and move your hair.

“Ready?” You ask him, he’s got a faraway look.

“Uh, yeah.” He pauses, reaching up and hesitating when you furrow your brows at him.

“Sorry- uh- sorry.” He says quietly, reaching up and fixing a piece of your hair.

“Thanks.” You say softly as he nods and pulls open the door for you.

The exam goes relatively well. You notice anakin, more than once, turning to look at you from his spot in the first three rows. You simply catch the movement of his head in your peripherals the first two times, too focused on your exam to bother looking up. But by the third time you look up and raise your brows, he whips around as soon as you catch his gaze.

He finishes his exam first, your eyes follow him as he practically scurries out into the hall. You follow shortly after, giving Harvey a small nod on your way out.

You aren’t sure why you’re so surprised to find him waiting outside, leaning against the wall opposite to the door. He perks up as you walk towards him. He opens his mouth to speak-

”Wow, what am I chopped liver?” A sarcastic voice rings from the right.

The both of you jump, looking to find Mary with her brow raised and arms crossed.

You smile, “I didn’t know you were waiting-“ your smile falters, “Oh my god. I totally forgot you in the library, I’m so sorry.” You cross the distance to her side, giving her a pout as she glares at you. Her expression fades into a grin, “Well, how are you gonna make it up to me?” She asks sweetly.

“Actually, It was my fault. We got caught up in studying and had to get to class-“ Anakin started.

Mary groaned exaggeratedly, rolling her eyes for good measure.

“Fine, how are you gonna make it up to me then?” She snaps.

Anakin pauses, looking between you and her. “Well.. I could take you both out for lunch.” He suggests.

“What, you haven’t had enough time with her yet? Gotta take her out for lunch and make more moves on her?” Mary quizzes, you withhold a laugh.

Anakin flushes red, his brows furrow. “That- I wasn’t-“ he clears his throat, “you said you wanted paid back- and- I haven’t made any..” he pauses, looking away, “moves on her. We were only studying.” He mumbles.

“Oh yeah? How about when you two were skipping arm in arm to class? Surprised you didn’t cream your pants when she grabbed you.” Mary laughs, and you stare at her mortified.

“WHAT!” You cry.

Anakin's mouth gapes open, “I- what-“ he sputters.

Mary doubles over, laughing so hard it looks like it hurts. You can’t help but to laugh along with her, your stomach hurting from the force of your giggle fit. Anakin just stares at the both of you with mild horror.

”Cream my pants?” He whispers to himself. That makes it worse, tears stream down your cheeks, Mary slaps your shoulder as she cackles, the both of you losing balance.

“Oh my god-“ you try to say between cackles.

“Mary- you-“ You wheeze, “Bitch.”

She sucks in a breath and stands straight. “Yeah I’m hungry now, you can get us lunch.” She looks at her phone. “More like early dinner, but whatever.”

You feel a bit bad for Anakin after you’ve recovered from your giggle fit. At this point you’re quite used to their antics. Mary and Anakin went to high school together, their rivalry has always been in good fun and has apparently existed long before you came into the picture. As the three of you walk towards the decided sandwich shop on campus, Mary asks how the exam went and chatters about what she was up to when you forgot she existed. You glance back at Anakin to find he’s already looking at you, you give him a small smile and he gives you one back, his cheeks still twinged red from earlier humiliation.

True to his word, Anakin buys you both early dinner sandwiches, as well as one for himself. You all settle in the corner of the shop by the window.

“Hey, pretty sure you’ve paid me back, you can go now.” Mary says with a shooing motion.

”Yeah, you wish. I’m staying right here.” His usual well meaning sarcasm has finally returned. Your shoulders relax, you hadn’t even noticed they were tense.

“Kay, whatever.” Mary replies. “Hey, I don’t blame you, you wanna hang with the champ. Bet you’re hoping her smarts will rub off on you.” Mary adds, bumping your shoulder with hers. You shake your head and giggle.

”Yeah, I guess so. Doesn’t seem like her smarts have rubbed off on you any.” He quips.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m doing very well in my classes.”

“Oh yeah?” He raises a brow.

“Okay maybe I’m not top of the fuckin score board like the both of you, but I make do.” She growls.

“The both of us can’t be top of the scoreboard.” You comment.

“Well we all know you’re number one, beautiful.” Mary says to you with a saccharine grin.

Anakin scoffs, “we’ll see once the exam scores are posted.” He smirks at you.

And there it is, in just one afternoon you had completely forgotten your own rivalry with him, how could you forget just how much he pisses you off. When you graduated high school, you hadn’t expected to do so well in university. Your own passion shocks you at times. And at the very bottom of your list of things you expected to happen, was to have an academic rival. When you first met Anakin, he was a lot more cocky. You had chalked up his recent kindness towards you as having earned his respect, you’ve held your own in this little competition of skill. But now the stakes have risen, because there’s always a prize, which has become more than just keeping your ego intact.

You frown and shoot him a glare, he shuffles in his seat.

“Right. Guess we will.” You grit.

Mary, noticing the sudden tension, quickly changes the subject.

“Soo. Anakin.. got your eyes on new internships?” She asks with raised brows. You already know why she’s asking, the prize. What you and Anakin are both after. She’s hoping he’s trying for something new.

he sighs, he has the courtesy to look sorry. “No. Still trying for the Oscorp position.”

She sucks in a breath and looks to you quickly. Her nervousness makes you bristle.

“Well. May the smartest one win.” You reply tightly, and he nods.

This competition, whats it all for? The prize? An internship at oscorp working in one of the best labs money could buy. There’s only one opening and its reserved for the highest scorer in this round of exams. The realization that you had spent the day with the one person you’re competing against for something that will change your life makes you shift in your seat. Thats what its always been about. But now that the deadline is so close, it feels a lot more real.

The three of you finish your sandwiches in silence.

“Well, we better head out, don’t wanna miss the bus.” Mary finally says after a few long minutes of tense silence.

Anakin finally meets your gaze, he looks like a kicked puppy. “I can walk you to the bus stop-“ your glare cuts him short.

“No thanks. See you later, Anakin.” You say as you rise from your seat.

Mary and you part ways once she gets off at her stop. You’ve still got another three stops till you’ll be on your block. Plenty of time to overthink your bitterness.

For the life of you, you really can’t decipher why the internship is such a soft spot. Do you really doubt yourself that much? After all this time of the both of you head to head, suddenly you fear you don’t have a winning shot. You fidget with your fingers and glance out the city bus window. Today was a really bad day for your exam nerves to kick in. The first day of midterms, you’ve still got five more to take. All the grades will be posted on the following Monday. Your stomach feels as if its twisting in on itself. Why were you so relaxed today? It’s like you just forgot what the stakes were. Did you pay extra attention to the questions? Did you recheck your answers? Did you really get it all? Your brain whirs as you try to think of any possible slip up you could’ve made.

You’re still reeling from the fact that you were so distracted today as you get off the bus and begin your trek to your apartment. You’re relatively certain you did well on the exam, but you still can’t believe how easy time seems to slip away when you’re around Anakin. Did he do that on purpose? Usually he doesn’t hesitate to remind you of the stakes. So why was he so helpful? God, all it does is piss you off.

You’re too caught up in your thinking to catch the sound of footsteps behind you. Your brows furrow as you suddenly come to. It’s dark, you're still a good five minute walk from your apartment building, the street is empty, and whoever is behind you has been steadily getting closer and closer. You curse your distractible mind.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You try to calm yourself, to hide your bunching shoulders, slow your breath and listen. The steps behind you grow closer, you pick up the pace just a smidge and they do too, that’s what sends you into a frenzy.

You break into a sprint, the feet behind you do as well. You race down the dark street, the corner light in front of you seems miles away. There’s a small alleyway coming up, you contemplate taking your chances on it.

When you turn your head you find your assailant to be hot on your tail, that makes up your mind. You whip to the left into the narrow alleyway and begin shouting, kicking down trash cans behind you. When you turn the corner, you find a dead end.

You turn, your assailant stands at the end after he turns the corner, a wicked grin on his face.

“Help me!” You scream. How cliche is this? The damsel backs herself into a corner. I mean seriously, running into an alleyway? Classic movie drama. Except this isn’t a movie, this is real life. And you are now alone in an alleyway with a scary dude who could easily overpower you.

he starts pacing towards you, mumbling incoherencies under his breath. You brace yourself, try to remember any self defense you’ve ever happened across. Go for the throat, the eyes, the nuts. Scratch him, get his DNA under your fingernails. God help you, fight like a madwoman. Thats what you remind yourself as you let out a final scream once he gets close.

you stupidly squeeze your eyes closed as he lifts his arm, a natural reaction you suppose, but the impact never comes. There’s a thud, you open your eyes. Evil guy is attached to the wall to your right, covered in what looks to be webs.

“Spider-Man?” You mumble, eyes wide.

”The one and only.” Says a voice beside you, loud, playful.

You whip around, there he stands. Tall, muscular, sporting a suit you’ve seen so many times. On the news, the paper, the internet, now here right in front of you.

He obviously notices your shock, he waves a hand in front of your face and you snap your mouth shut, you hadn’t even noticed it was open.

“You alright, ma’am?” He asked, his voice a gentle timbre, much softer than it was before.

You nod. “I’m not- hurt.” You sputter. “Just shaken up.” He nods thoughtfully.

“Would you like me to take you home? I can deal with this guy after. He’ll still be here.” He jokes, jutting his head to the man attached to the wall.

you blink, once, twice. “Take me home?” You repeat quizzically.

”sure. Would you like to walk or,” he points to the rooftop above, “swing.”

Spider-Man just saved you and now hes asking if he can take you for the joyride of your life.

you look up at the rooftop, and back at him. “Will you go slow?” You ask softly.

“Course I will. I’m sure you're scared enough.” He replies, he almost sounds excited.

“Promise?” You ask thoughtlessly.

He falters at that, nodding his head. “Promise.” He whispers.

He reaches towards you, you give him a look of apprehension.

“Can’t exactly swing without holding onto you, angel.” He chuckles.

You practically melt, your hesitance dripping away from you. You step close to him and place your hands on his sturdy shoulders as he pulls you into his body with one arm.

“Hold on tight, spider monkey.” You can practically hear the smile in his voice.

The quote snaps you out of your daze.

”Twilight?” You question, a smile gracing your lips.

“What? It’s a good movie.” He shrugs, and before you can even respond, he shoots a web to a nearby building and you are suddenly in the air.

You shriek, moulding yourself into him.

”Jesus Christ!” You scream as the two of you continue to ascend at an alarming speed.

“Slow down- slow down- slow down-“ you cry, burying your head into his neck, his hold on your waist tightens.

“Hey, easy, easy. I’ve got you.” He says softly. The movement stops, you’re clearly somewhere very high.

“Look at this.” He whispers.

You shakily lift your head from his neck and your breath stalls in your lungs. The two of you are hanging from a large building, so close to the top you can see the railing, but that’s not what caught your eye. The city, from this view, its beautiful. Thousands of dazzling lights, buildings, life everywhere. The wind whips through your hair.

“Do you get to see this every night?” You ask him, meeting his gaze. The eyes of his mask narrow, you suppose it must be from him smiling.

“Mhm, just about.” He says.

“It’s amazing.” You whisper.

“Yeah. Pretty amazing.”

The two of you stay like that for a bit longer, until the warmth of his body is no longer enough to subdue the cold breeze, the chill set deep in your bones causes you to shiver.

“Better get you home now, it’s late.” He says, swinging down.

You guide him to your apartment building, the ride down much smoother than the ride up.

He drops down on the ground in front of your building, setting you down and making sure you’ve got your footing. When his arm unravels from your waist, you nearly gasp at how much colder you get.

You look at him, still breathless.

“You okay?” He asks once again. And you grin as you nod.

“Thank you, Spider-Man.” You say softly.

He clears his throat. “Of course, just doing my job.” He straightens up, like he’s posing or something, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Well, I better head in.” You say, and he nods.

“Right. Have a good night ma’am. And uh- I guess if you ever need help again, just scream.” He says, backing away.

“You think you’ll be able to hear me?” You ask playfully.

He halts. “Yeah. I’ll hear you.” He says it like a promise, and just as sudden as he had appeared, he was gone.

Your bones were practically jelly by the time you melted into your bed. As you drifted into sleep a smile crept onto your lips.

Abrupt ending!! Sorryyyy anyways hello everyone I’ve returned. Dedicated to @chocolatepeanuttraveler happy late Christmas and late birthday. I LOVE YOUUUUU, im gonna edit later don’t worry guys. Mwah xoxo

[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.

[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

[hellwurld]

may I suggest for the fem lawstappen series another thing about liams nails? She makes a point to open her redbull cans on camera just to show off her ability to do it with nails on (It's not actually all that hard yet people are constantly impressed)

They’re doing another cooking challenge, even though Max can’t cook.

She is sick of cooking challenges. The Red Bull marketing people have only really made her do a few in her multiple years with the team, but every time they do, Max wants to brain herself on a rock. She hates cooking, can’t cook and refuses to, and she especially doesn’t want to do it on camera. Liam, however, is elated, because Liam apparently serves the larger agenda to be entirely opposite to Max in every way.

“Can we make a lolly cake?” Liam asks, raising one manicured hand before immediately asking the questions without being called on. Rosa, one of the marketing girls squints at Liam for a second, before sighing.

“You can make whatever you want as long as it’s not criminal,” Rosa says, and Liam nods sagely.

“The only thing criminal about it is how good it is,” Liam laughs then, dramatically winking at Max. Max hates that she is incredibly endeared by it.

So, they’re making fucking lolly cake. Max needs energy. Or a gun. But, she can only get one of those things easily, so she cracks open a Red Bull before filming starts. Liam makes a noise at the sound, tying her apron behind her back.

“Toss me one?” She asks absently, so Max does. Liam catches it perfectly and Max hums, impressed.

“Nice reflexes,” Max says, before grinning a bit, “You should be an F1 driver.”

“God,” Liam rolls her eyes, “Y’know, I never thought of that. You really think so?” She flutters her lashes teasingly, and Max swallows dryly, clearing her throat.

“Yeah,” She says, a little cracked, but Liam thankfully doesn’t notice, “I do.”

Max hates herself, a little bit. She takes a long sip of the Red Bull, and tries to ignore the judgemental stare of Rosa behind the camera. It’s hard to, when Rosa’s eyes are fucking glued to her forehead, but Max tries. Then, Max fails, and has to look away to try and distract herself. Her eyes land on Liam, who’s scratching at the top with her nails. They’re shorter than usual, more square than pointy, but still an inch long and deeply, deeply impractical.

“Need some help?” Max offers, and Liam shakes her head.

“Nah, I got it,” She says, still scratching at the top, “Just fidgeting, y’know?” Max does not know. She nods anyway, and Rosa starts counting down to when they’re going to start filming before Max can respond. She counts down from ten, and Max fumbles to get her own apron on, wrestling with the fabric as Liam purses her lips to not laugh. Eventually, Max hears the snap of the shutter and the video begins.

“Hello!” Liam starts, before Max says anything, “I’m Liam Lawson, Formula One driver for Red Bull, and I’ll be teaching my teammate—” 

“Max Verstappen,” Max deadpans, waving slightly.

“—how to make the beautiful dessert of lolly cake!” Liam finishes with a flourish, cracking open her can effortlessly and making a show of taking a long sip. Max watches her drink and swallow a little speechlessly, and Liam makes a questioning noise and nudge at her once she opens her eyes again.

“You excited?” Liam goads, and Max furrows her brow.

“How did you do that?” She asks instead, and Liam startles.

“Do what?” She asks, cocking her head, and Max gestures at the can.

“Open the can with your nails,” Max frowns, “It looks painful.” 

“Oh,” Liam blinks, before giggling, shoving playfully at Max, “It’s really not! Once you figure out the best way to do it, it’s actually a breeze, mate. You just gotta get the right grip and bam— Your fingers are a can opener!”

“I like my fingers as fingers,” Max says, matter-of-factly and Liam doubles over in laughter, which has Max feeling quite pleased with herself, the same warm, heavy feeling she used to get when she’d make her dad smile at her or make Christian pat her back proudly after a race, except it’s kinder this time. Easier. Less expectation around it. It’s just as good, but it’s not as scary.

Liam’s not very scary.

Max thinks she might watch Liam’s hands too much. But, still, it lets her figure things out about Liam, like how she opens cans without abandon, without caring if her deeply expensive, wildly time-consuming to create nails will pop off or rip under the pressure. Max thinks about it again once they’re wrapping up with filming, as Liam cracks open another Red Bull before doing their closing statements. Max watches with furrowed brow as a bit of glitter, a piece of acrylic falls off Liam’s nails.

“I can open those for you, if you’d like,” Max offers conversationally once filming is over, pointing at the can in Liam’s hands. Liam looks at her questioningly, and Max clears her throat. “So, you, ah—” Max hums, “So you don’t break your nails again. Part of them fell off, I think.” Liam looks down at her nails, flexing her fingers a bit, frowning at the slight damage. Still, the frown is erased when she looks at Max, replaced with a light smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” Liam shrugs, “Anyway, shows people that the nails aren’t a waste. That I can be strong even with them on and everything. It proves a point.” Max shakes her head, stubborn.

“You do not need to prove a point by breaking your nails on cans,” Max huffs, “You prove enough of a point by being a Formula One driver. Let me—” Liam goes to interrupt her, huffing with anger, and Max lets her, but Liam stops before she can even form the sentence, instead staring at Max skeptically.

“Let you what?” Liam goads, squinting, and Max— Max wants to die, a little bit.

“Let me—” Take care of you, keep you comfortable, keep you safe, keep you beautiful and lovely and pristine and happy, keep everything you cherish completely perfectly maintained, are all things Max doesn’t say. Instead, she says, “Let me help you,” which feels almost twice as damning. 

Still, Liam smiles. Hums a bit. Wraps a careful, soft hand around Max’s bicep.

“Okay,” She says softly, leaning into Max as she leads her out of the room and into the hallway, towards the lunch area, “You can help me as much as you want. As long as it’s only what I ask for, okay?” She looks up at Max then, and Max can’t help but think she might be agreeing to something terrible.

“Okay,” Max agrees, because she’s always been one to make bad decisions for beautiful women. It’s her fatal flaw, and Max hopes it kills her. What a simply lovely way to go that would be.

Liam never opens another Red Bull can again if Max is around. My own personal can opener, she calls her once, on video. Daniel says she’s calling Max a tool. Max insists that what Liam is really doing is calling Max useful, and she loves to be useful.

[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

[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 - ˵ ) ✧

[marinette-buginette]

Do you think that Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee can reconcile and become friends again?

First thing first anon, I'm sorry for taking so long to answer, I just needed to sit down to write all of this down and yes, I know it took so long we are in 2025 now, I am sorry.

TLDR: It depends

Now for the actual analysis aka my word vomit, under the cut

No, really, it depends. Are we only taking the end of the show as canon? Do we consider any of the comics canon? Only part of them? Was Azula institutionalized? Did she escape? Did she open her super secret daycare in Smoke and Shadow which included Mai’s brother? Do we entirely ignore the comics and assume she was imprisoned? Did she run away? Is she actively working against the post-canon Fire Nation leadership? Is she just chilling somewhere under a fake identity having decided to say fuck all that?

Cause all of that affects the way in which Azula could interact with Mai or Ty Lee, their reasons for interacting, the state of mind they are in etc. There is a whole deep blue sea of options to explore here. 

Now if we attempt to remove all of that somehow and try to get to the barebones of it all, I’ll discuss first one very important contextual thing about (my interpretation of) Azula and then a look at her separate relationship with Mai and Ty Lee (cause they are two distinct dynamics).

Azula, loyalty and duty

In my reading, Azula is a character who highly values loyalty, in the sense that she both offers it and expects it. And when Azula is loyal to someone/something she truly gives everything she has. Those two things are usually her father and the Fire Nation. There are multiple instances where this is very clear. I’ll discuss one that I don’t really see mentioned a lot.

Azula, the current heir to the throne (Ozai had no clue she was bringing Zuko along), who is a prodigy firebender and generally liked and respected by the high-ranking people of the Fire Nation (”Everyone loves Azula”), following a historical feat (Ba Sing Se has never been conquered before) which made up for what was probably the greatest military failure in the history of the Fire Nation during the 100 Years War (The Siege of Ba Sing Se), shows up to her father’s doorstep with a (foreign) military force strictly loyal to her (the Dai Li).

And Ozai doesn’t even blink as far as we are aware. Any monarch with more than two brain cells would have seen that as a threat. Cause it is. The optics of it are batshit insane. Ozai does literally nothing. She’s still invited to all military meetings. She is out and about during DOBS. Let me reiterate that. Ozai, who finds himself and a good chunk of his troops without bending, during a foreign force invasion, allows his daughter and her personal military (who can use their powers cause they aren’t firebenders) only loyal to her run around as the last means of defense for him.

So there are two options here: he is an absolute moron (which understandable, but as someone who took part in regicide, she should see *some* nuance of this if nothing else) or he has no doubt that Azula would never turn against him. Easy to figure out which one is more likely right?

(The only time when she goes against her father’s wishes with bringing Zuko back, it backfires on her pretty badly. I bet you Ozai leaving her behind during the comet shows something shifted there)

Stick with me okay, I am going somewhere with this.

Loyalty is something Azula takes very seriously. And it intertwines a lot with duty in her case (to her father, to the Fire Nation). It’s a very strongly embedded into her as a character. And she, the princess of a whole country, expects the same from her peers (and subjects). It affects the way she interacts with them and asks things of them. Case to point:

Azula and Mai

Azula and Mai are much more on equal footing as a friendship than Azula and Ty Lee. In many ways Mai and Azula have the same experience, trying their best to fit a role their parental figures dictated for them as a means of survival. 

But Mai does not care about the Fire Nation or her family. She is a lot more individually focused. She doesn’t join Azula because it’s the right thing to do for the Fire Nation bringing traitors in or capturing the Avatar. She does it cause she hates Omashu and wants to get away from her family. And she does not save Zuko’s (and everyone else’s) life because it’s the right thing to do. She does it cause she loves Zuko despite him being an absolute jackass. The only time when Mai said anything about the loyalty to the Fire Nation was when she was talking with Zuko in the Boiling Rock and she did it more as an attempt to convince him to come back for her and his personal gain rather than some Fire Nation loyalist reason. 

Also Mai does not fear Azula. The famous line from Boiling Rock is not her admiting Azula scares her. 

(Not when Mai said during the Drill episode that Azula can throw as much lightning at her as she wants but she’s not getting into the sewage. And when we see Mai later then after that battle is lost she does not look like someone who fears the consequences of what she did.)

That is her knowing exactly where to strike to hurt Azula (the way Azula sort of did to her during the beach episode). They know each other very well, which also leads to knowing how to hurt each other very well. I would say Mai’s betrayal probably hurt more, not just because she was closer to Azula but because it was premeditated (even though it was over a short period of time).

Azula and Ty Lee

Ty Lee, much like Mai, does not care about the Fire Nation or her family. However, in some regards, she’s a lot more unreliable and flighty (which I would say stems a lot from her not being very sure of her own identity). This refers mostly to pre-reunion, though because from the moment Ty Lee joins she’s perfectly reliable as a fighter, and, in one instance I can think of (the Drill) even more so than Mai. The thing about Ty Lee in general though is that she tends to be quite fickle.

Let’s take the circus situation. Ty Lee said that the circus is her calling and her aura has never been pinker. We know she was strong-handed into joining Azula’s mission but nothing stopped her from going back to it after the fall of Ba Sing Se. Instead, she sticks around Azula and Mai in the Capital. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing but it certainly shows Ty Lee’s fickleness. I also think that it was an advantageous thing for her to do. I don’t know how much she thought things through when she joined the circus (and I don’t think she’s too prone to long term thinking) but that would have certainly had negative impacts on people’s perception of her, an experience deemed unworthy of a nobleman’s daughter (“Certainly our parents didn't send us to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls to end up in places like this”). So returning home with such a victory most likely made her life much easier if she just returned after she got tired of the circus. Add to this Ty Lee’s penchant for excessive flattery and I think there might have been some point where Azula wondered Ty Lee was still her friend just because of the benefits (I don’t think she was and I don’t think Azula believed so either but the thought could have still crossed her mind). 

And when it comes to Boilin Rock, Mai had some time to think through her actions and make a decision. Ty Lee just acted on an impulse to end a fight between her two friends before either of them did something they regretted. But that’s certainly not what it looked like to Azula in the moment.

Conclusion

I think whatever rekindling of their relationships might happen, it will have to be based on building trust again from very fragmented relationships. Given how many times Azula gave her loyalty and support for it to blow in her face, the trust issues run deep, especially cause Mai and Ty Lee already had it once and well, we know how that ended. I’d say they might have a harder time in some regards, getting that trust back because of their history. On top of that, I think the way Azula sees the Fire Nation and how tied she still is or isn’t to her sense of duty, would play an important role in her reflection of understanding of Mai and Ty Lee or any relationship they might or might not rekindle.

So yeah, it depends.

[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.