#idk how to tag this does anyone even follow political tags

[revolutionarysuicide]

anti-imperialist network is organising a fundraiser for the communist party of the congo (PCCO, parti communiste du congo) to fund their organising efforts. i highly recommend that people who have shared news about the ongoing genocide in the congo donate to actual organising efforts by communists in the congo if they can; this is important political solidarity work for global north/imperial core communists to engage with. and as usual, if u can't donate then share, etc

edit: it looks like gofundme removed the fundraiser. it wasn't removed by AIN. still trying to ask around to figure out what's happening with the situation but just in case anyone's trying to donate. maybe keep an eye on AIN's social media (north america branch (who is/was running the fundraiser), international) for updates

edit 2: back online :)

update from AIN:

#can also vouch for AIN thru a trusted comrade of a trusted comrade #they're solid #congo #anti-imperialism #idk how to tag this does anyone even follow political tags

[kurosstuff]

Lute x fallen angel! Reader: Fallen

Short fic- tell me what you think! Hope you all enjoy it-!

Summary" lute SHOULD hate you. But. How can she?

HEAVY SPOILERS MENTIONED LIKE AKL OVER(in this like one?) IDK PLEASE. ALL HAZBIN FICS I WRITE ARENT SPOILER FREE UNLESS I STATE THAT IT IS. YOUVE BEEN WARNED

Warning(s): blood/fights, love at first sight, maybe ooc lute? Idk yoy tell me I never wrote her, heartbreak, also from my knowledge? Wing movements(from birds please correct me on the info if I do it wrong I do not own birds) in denial, Adam and his vulgur language

Ngl I love lute-

Lute a cruel sadistic woman. Odd place for a woman in heaven. But given her status as the leader of the executioners. The one who leads the battles against those vile sinners. Who trains the angels picked to fight herself. The woman second in command to Adam himself.

It's a fitting role.

Never in a million years(and she HAS been around for that long. Or so she lost track of such a useless thing) would she? A ruthless exterminator encounter this thing other fully pure angels speak of.

Love

Why would she? Lute is a fighter. A warrior. The one who Adam HIMSELF entrusts his life too. Why would she fall for anyone? She doesn't even know if she CAN feel such a thing.

But as always- Life(or afterlife?) Is full of surprises. She was well aware of a new angel coming in. Recently passed in some horrific accident she doesn't care for the details just knows- need to pick them apart see if their ruthless enough to fight. But the second she went into the room her eyes widden- an odd feeling in her chest as If her heart- her cold heart was heating up.

"Hello~ are you uh Lute?" You asked shyly- which given the situation even the most outgoing would be just as shy. She blinked, glad for the mask to hide the flushed expression - the confusion on it.

Clearing her throat, she nods slowly, ensuring you saw "I am. Welcome to Heaven, " she greeted uncharacteristically polite- gentle. If you were to be mistaken, she ignored the odd look Adam gave her, looking at the name tag, even your name is pretty- she blinked.

What?

She did NOT just think that. She did NOT Find you pretty. Gorgeous. She does NOT notice how your eyes sparkle how friendly your smile is as you both talked. She most certainly doesn't notice how your wings are the single most gorgeous pair she's ever seen. How white it is- signaling how pure you are. How the gold etched into it- putting to shame her grey and black wings- smiling soft behind her mask. How how she wishes to touch the- she stops she will NOT think that

-

It became as clear as day to her and anyone else. Lute? Is inlove. And not just anyone. The new angel- the kind soul who? Adam states follows her around like a lost puppy or in Adam's kind words "Hey look. It's lutes bitch!" Oh how she wishes to punch him everytime- hit that smug look off. But she won't. Not yet.

A common tradition in heaven- like the birds in the human realm(maybe a odd similarity she presumed. She doesn't care for the human realm after all) finding a mate, a lover with the most gorgeous wings. It was no surprise you gained such attention

Much to her displeasure.

Grumbling watching as how you yet again were surrounded by angels around you- and ad always rejecting them before that smile she oh so adored. Yet would never state aloud was sent her way- making her scowl darkly(but on the inside? She was warm) quickly making your way to her she noticed how you fidgeted. How red you were "out with it. What is it?" She grumbled out no matter how warm and soft she was on the inside? Her words on the outside could never match. No matter how she wished it

White cleared her vision making her back up scrunching her nose before finally realizing what it was- a feather. Not just any old feather. Your feather "i.. i want you to have it.. I know the meaning bur when I was preening my wings u couldn't help it.. I want you to have my feather" they whispered watching as she gently took the feather.

Silently accepting them courting her with a soft smile. Maybe she can make it a necklace?

-

As great as it was up there. There were rules. Easy to forget. Easy to break. But rules nonetheless. Once Adam instructed her to strip a betrayers wings, Lute sighed. Grumbling loudly going to the room. Ignoring the odd almost somber pitiful look Adam gave her. Hiding the feather in her shirt tucked safe near her heart, she hummed, stepping inside fixing her helmet before freezing

"No-"

Her heart dropped paling more then she was already at the bloodied sight

"NO WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!"

She roared storming to your bloodied frame she couldn't help but break her never-ending composure for the first time, kneeling to your side "do you HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA WHAT THIS MEANS?" She snarled ripping her mask off showing her teary face. Knowing her counter was now a sinner. Her angel was a traitor. A million emotions went through her head glaring down at you with every emotion but the one she should feel.

It wasn't hate.

She ignored her feelings, swallowing it down she ignored the reasoning of what you did. Of what you SAID. putting her mask on, she steeled herself. She was an executioner. A peacemaker. She takes care of the issue. So she pushed you down with her foot grabbing your once gorgeous wings now bloodied gold- in her one hand grabbing her spear she sliced. Ignoring how she was covered in your blood. The deafening screams of pain. Of agony. How you begged for her. She took a sigh taking her mask off giving you the chance to se her one last time. Without the mask. How she stared cold at you.

Before the ground opened up, "lute. Before I go- please I lo-" she cut you off, kicking you in. Closing her eyes as the ground closed. For the first time ever. She fell to her knees, holding the now broken wings sobbing out for a sinner. How was she not a sinner to for showing the regret. Showing the selfishness in this?

~~

It wasn't long before she saw you again. Traveling down with Adam to meet with Charlie and her girlfriend- to Lute it was a vile relationship. Not because of the sex- no- because of the liar Vaggie is. How that bitch betrayed her kind and then fell for the ruler of hells daughter. She could almost laugh.

Blinking, ignoring the yelling match of Adam and Charlie. Looking out the window, she froze mouth wide open- even though the demons back was turned. No wings but a tail and horns. She knew that laugh. She knew that smell. No matter how different you looked. Eyes soft watching you turn. Even as a demon. You truly are a beautiful creature. She softened her gaze behind her mask before looking away in disgust. Not with you.

But herself.

Lute a angel? Finds a demon attractive. Sure it's you but. Your a demon. A angel and demon together is vile. Disgusting in all sense of the worse.

But even now. She can't help but still long for you. Long for the almost relationship. Frowning, she looked back at Adam, who watched her with a frown. She knew they'd have a talk. Sighing, she followed after him with a deep sigh

She truly wished this outcome was different. How she longs to see you once more. Touching the feather on her chest she sighs

The only way she would be with you. Is if she was fallen as well. What a cruel irony.

#lute x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute

[thesweetnessofspring]

That post about Peeta and Katniss (and Finnick and Annie) only being in a relationship because of trauma is an odd take. Firstly, you could say this about any pairing in the series no? Gale and Katniss /literally/ only met and bounded due to trauma and survival, once that was gone so was their relationship. If Kantniss wanted to be with Peeta because of trauma, wouldn't she have, IDK, done that from the beginning? Like glued to him from the first games on? Or better yet, why didn't she trauma bound with Gale and get into a relationship since he was the first guy to bond with her over trauma, its almost like she has thoughts, feelings, and emotions that aren't dictated by trauma. I 100% think Katniss, Peeta, Annie, and Finnick probably had a harder time getting together and being together due to each of their respective traumas. Anyway, odd take, even weirder to tag Everlark just to get a start things.

(sorry for the rant, i had to talk it out and no one IRL would care)

No worries, this is why fan spaces exist, so we can talk about fandom stuff with people who get it and aren't just (at best) polite about it.

And as always, reminder that "trauma bond" is something an abuser does to the person they are abusing of perpetuating trauma to bind that person to them. It's not two people who went through a trauma together and have a bond.

Yes, I do think just about any pairing has similar traumas to one another/went through trauma together. And of course anyone is going to be close to someone who supported them and they helped support when going through a trauma. Not to say you need trauma to build a relationship, but simply that shared trauma can forge relationships.

Nor does shared trauma decide how that relationship gets manifested. Many soldiers who go through war together consider their fellow soldiers brothers/sisters. If Katniss had no romantic feelings toward Peeta, their bond would have stayed platonic. And Peeta followed through on being a platonic support per Katniss's nonverbal language after Gale's whipping, even after she sniffed his hand and told him to stay with her. The Quell makes them both let go of concerns about a future they won't have and they veer romantic, but once again he's always following her lead.

Whereas Gale is assuming the romantic lead. He ambush kisses her when she gives no indication that's what she wants. He guilts her into agreeing to give him a chance. He gets pissy Katniss wants to bring Peeta and Haymitch to what he thought was going to be their wedding and honeymoon in the forest. And when Katniss was weeks away from going into a death arena for the SECOND time he asks her where they'd be if Peeta had been a jerk and died. In MJ everything he does is to try and one-up Peeta by acting a hero and "convince" Katniss that he loves her (like that's what their issue was???). And despite their shared trauma and all of his insistence on being romantic, she still is not attracted to him! Because she was never going to have romantic feelings for him.

And it's not like Odesta or Everlark sped-run their romances. Finnick says Annie "crept up on me" and Everlark "grew back together" in addition to the nearly two years the books take course over.

It's against etiquette for sure to put in the tag, but who really understands the mind of an internet troll?

#everlark #odesta

[loviatarsluv]

An Acquired Taste (2)

“Do you wanna see how far it goes?

Do you wanna test me now, my love?

You must be crazy if you think that I will give in so easily”

Astarion x AFAB f!tav oc (Aelia) [third person]

rating: mature

CW: blood drinking, dry humping, silly banter and sexual tension bc duh

a/n: I decided I wanted this to be the story of my own oc Aelia and her sordid love affair with our fav pale elf bc idk I felt like it :3 she’s a drow half-elf rogue, and my poor girl has been through it in her life even pre-tadpole, which we’ll delve into a little bit and will give a little background as to why Astarion pisses her off so much :)

in summary: Astarion is a dick but even the strongest of us can and will fall to his charms, aelia included (much to her disdain)

word count: 6k

(I really need to keep track of where I’m grabbing gifs from I am so sorry all credits to original owner!! lmk so I can tag u ♡︎)

The air between Aelia and Astarion had shifted considerably, and it was impossible for the others not to take notice. 

It was still tense as it was before, but in an entirely new way, with so much left unsaid hanging in the air in a thick fog over their heads every time they stole glances at each other throughout the days following that night in the clearing. They still bickered, that hadn’t changed. But there was a different tone to it that neither party could truly decipher. Aelia personally tried her damndest not to think about it - as unsuccessful as she was at it. 

Most of their companions just ignored them, unwilling to disturb whatever strange peace that befell the group when they weren’t arguing about who drank the last of the wine or who was faster at lockpicking or whatever frivolous thing they chose to be at each other’s throats over.

Shadowheart would give Aelia knowing glares when she’d catch her eyes lingering on the back of the vampire’s head, which Aelia would brush off and dismiss every time. She didn’t intend for anyone else to find out about what happened between her and Astarion in the woods - even though she knew Shadowheart at least suspected something - so she chose to ignore any notions from her or Astarion about it at every cost.

He was the first to head back to camp the night of their encounter, so as to not arouse suspicion that anything happened between them and play it off as if he'd just gone hunting. Before he left her, he offered to help her redress, as a strange form of aftercare that she not-so-politely declined.

Post orgasm clarity hadn't ever been quite so sobering in the past, but she couldn't shake the unease in her gut that she'd let him finally weasel his way past her defenses. She was mostly disappointed in herself as she'd only really had herself to blame - though she still found it in herself to be angry at him for making her feel the way he did.

She managed to pull on her now muddy and soggy pants, then her shirt that was in an even worse state, and trudged back up with the rest of her gear gathered in her arms.

Immediately upon reaching the edge of camp, Shadowheart catches her eye, watching her expectantly with a cocked brow, as if waiting for her to come and explain.

She shakes her head at the half elf, waving her hand to dismiss her prying eyes. She knew Shadowheart would drop it eventually - privacy being something that she highly valued herself. Though that didn't stop her questioning glances, her curiosity was very obviously peaked.

She will just have to remain curious.

Aelia takes one last sidelong glance at the bloody red tent closest to hers - catching a glimpse of Astarion reclining in his bedroll, book in hand, twirling a curl with one of his fingers mindlessly as he was illuminated only by dim candlelight. 

Gods, why does he have to be so infuriatingly beautiful?

She huffs a breath, stomping into her tent, her legs and the idiotic thing between them still sore and her muscles burning. She collapses onto her bedroll, not even bothering to pull the blanket over her as she nestles into her pillow, shoving her face into it as far as she can without hurting her nose. She unleashes a quiet scream into the pillow, hoping Astarion wasn't listening, but knowing better and realizing that he probably was. She couldn't bring herself to care too terribly much as she feels her eyelids get heavier and heavier.

She rolls over and finally allows herself to drift off, silently praying that she’d wake up in the morning and this will have all been a stress induced dream, or at the very least that she could just pretend as though it never happened. 

That was apparently far too much to ask.

"Care to explain what you and the spawn were up to last night?"

Shadowheart's voice behind her caused her to jump as she's knelt down, rummaging through the camp storage chest for some scrolls to take for the day.

"Fucks sake, could you not sneak up on me like that?" She hisses, placing her hand over her racing heart.

Shadowheart crossed her arms over her chest, cocking an eyebrow at her as she peers down at her. "For a rogue, you sure are easily startled. Normally, you'd have heard me from a mile away. Something distracting you, Aelia?" She prods, suspicion in her tone.

Aelia groaned, rolling her eyes. "I'm just tired, Shadowheart. You're overthinking, as always."

"Tired. Right,” She drones, crossing her arms over her chest. “Listen, I'd be careful, if I were you. Resist his charms as much as possible - I don't trust him as far as I could throw him." She warns, brows furrowed as she glances back in the direction of a certain ivory haired elf.

Aelia's face twists into a scowl, as she stands to be eye level with the other half-elf.

"Have you forgotten my obvious disdain for him? I haven't the faintest idea what you're-"

"I'm not a fool, I saw the two of you skulking out from the forest. You don't have to particularly like someone to do what I assume the two of you did. Just... trust me on this, okay?" Shadowheart says, her face softening as she looks at her companion, a twinge of worry and protectiveness flitting through her.

Aelia goes silent, her jaw snapping shut for a moment while she formulates a response.

"I know what l'm doing. I'm not a fool, either, Shadowheart." Is all she manages to say, her once indignant voice now quiet and unconvincing.

"Then do not allow him to make one out of you." She says simply, then turning on her heel and strutting off toward the fire where Gale is handing out breakfast.

Aelia's shoulders slump as she rubs her temples, a deep sigh releasing from her as she feels a migraine swiftly incoming.

Shadowheart's words played in her head in a deafening echo - the very same words she'd been thinking to herself all morning.

This was only the beginning of their journey, and she was already ready for it to be over.

The rest of the companions (with the exception of Astarion) finally congregate at the fire, plates in hand as they plan out their day and eat whatever concoction Gale brewed that morning. She watched them, wondering if maybe they wouldn't notice if she just didn't join them and snuck some snacks in her pack to tide her over until dinner.

"Aelia! Breakfast is ready!" Gale calls, waving her over, plate held in her direction.

She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut in defeat.

She figures maybe if she just continued on like normal, nobody else would assume anything was amiss. She trudged over, taking the plate from the wizard's hand and thanking him quietly, to which he flashes his so-called "award winning smile" (in his own words).

She plops down on the large tree trunk bench next to Karlach, who grins widely at her presence.

"Morning, soldier! Feeling alright today?"

Karlach reminded her so much of a young pup - giddy about the simplest of things, ready to befriend anything with a pulse that looked friendly enough. Karlach was one of the only ones out of the group that she found herself acting particularly kinder toward, scared to ever dull that sparkle in her eye.

"I'm alright, thanks. How are you? Burning hot?" She smirks, leaning as if to bump her shoulder to hers, but not connecting the touch so as to not get third degree burns first thing in the morning. She feels the heat radiating off of the tiefling, feeling like the hottest summer day she could imagine all concentrated on the side of her body closest to her.

"Always. Ready to smack some evil assholes into oblivion, as per usual." She grins wickedly, then takes a large bite of her breakfast.

"That's what I like to hear." She smiles, then finally takes a bite of her food as well.

"Where shall we start today? Should we investigate that blighted village west of the grove?" Wyll muses.

The group all take a moment to consider his proposal.

"I suppose it's as good a start as any, seeing as we have next to nothing to work with as is," Shadowheart quips, the last part more of an underbreathed murmur.

"I still think we should've let that grubby little beast out of the cage, she could've at least showed us where to go." Astarion says flatly, finally approaching the group and taking a seat furthest away from everyone on a log nearby.

Aelia remembers telling the goblin, Sazza, that the tieflings captured that she could rot in that cell, not willing to expend even an ounce of trust for the likes of a goblin. For once, she very nearly agrees with Astarion.

“Are we even sure we want to ask a goblin priestess, of all creatures, to help us? They are not well known for their intellect, much less surgical capabilities." Gale chimes in.

"What other choices do we have? We're essentially running off of hope and desperation at this juncture. We can't very well afford the luxury of particularity." Aelia scoffs, her tone having more bite than she intended for it to.

"She's right, as much as I loathe to admit it," Astarion chimes nonchalantly, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement as they bore holes into the side of her head. She avoids meeting his stare with every ounce of strength and dignity she has left. "Perhaps we'll learn a little bit more about our slithery friends while we're at it, seeing as it seems other fellow infected seem to be congregating near there."

"A simple 'I agree with Aelia' would have sufficed," She grumbles.

"Oh, would you like a pat on the head while I'm at it? Perhaps a kiss on the hand and a bow?" He snarks, mimicking a bow in her direction, a bitter but teasing smirk on his lips.

Arrogant asshole!

Before she can open her mouth to retort back, Wyll claps his hands and stands. "So it's settled, then! Let's make haste."

The others begin to stand as well, leaving only Astarion and Aelia still sitting.

"The Blade Of Frontiers to the rescue... once again." He remarks sarcastically, inspecting his nails.

"Could you take a hiatus from your tireless work of being a complete and total asshole for even a moment?" She hisses, finally looking in his direction and feeling that unwanted fluttering in her gut that she'd felt last night before she fell asleep when she sees him, his ivory hair nearly glowing under the early morning sun and the tip of one fang peeking over his lip.

"No, darling, I don't think I can. You look absolutely divine when you're all worked up." He smirks, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward, crimson eyes and velvet voice lowering.

She narrows her eyes and lowers her voice to match his, and so that the others don't hear. "You're making me regret not using my knife the correct way last night."

"Oh, but if you had, you would've missed out terribly, as I'm sure you are well aware of now." He winks, letting his tongue swipe across his bottom lip to wet it.

She wants to respond but finds the words getting lost on their way up her throat, settling for only a scowl and an eye roll.

"Can you two istiks cease your incessant squabbling? We are losing daylight." Lae'zel shouts from across the camp.

They exchange one more heated glance before Aelia pushes herself to stand, tossing the leftovers from her breakfast aside for Scratch to eat. She whistles and calls the dog over, giving him a scratch behind the ears when he appears at her side. Now completely disregarding the overwhelming presence of the vampire watching her every move like a predator studying its prey, she begins to walk away, stopping for a moment and glancing over her shoulder at him. 

He watches her intently, almost as though he were waiting for her to fire back a quip or an insult - he wanted her to, it seemed. She gives him one last knowing smirk as she turns once again, heading to her tent to gather her gear, leaving an unsatisfied vampire sitting beside the fire, red eyes glowing with annoyance.

It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

-

The couple of days following that night were particularly rough as they explored the area that seemingly had been overrun and ravaged by goblins - a shame, it seemed like it was a lovely area where families thrived and nature bloomed once, only to now be a wasteland coated in filth and fire. 

They tried to be as thorough as they could when exploring the ruins of the village, each of them hoping they’d perhaps come across any sort of lead or miraculous cure in what appeared to be an alchemist’s cellar - only to come out essentially empty handed, aside from a strange necromancy tome that Astarion claimed immediately upon discovery as well as some herbs and potions.

They eventually did come across some leads, at least - leads that were less than savory, but leads, nonetheless. They’d overheard a group of goblins discussing the ruined temple of Selune that hosted the majority of the horde as well as a Drow, a hobgoblin, and the priestess Gut that the prisoner, Sazza, had mentioned, further confirming that the goblin had been telling the truth, much to their surprise. They also heard many random murmurings about the so-called Absolute that sounded like drunken nonsense, but it felt less important than the prospect of finding Gut and removing the tadpole at the time, so they hadn’t paid it much mind. 

Astarion kept to himself, following the group from several steps behind, seemingly lost in thought. Aelia glanced back periodically to see if he was still following, then cursed herself for caring or being even slightly concerned about him. 

That night when they returned to camp, his appearances were scarce - him either slinking off to the woods or remaining in his tent with the flap sealed. She couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that something was off, as on any typical night Astarion would be pestering her or any of the other companions and skulking around camp drinking wine and complaining about the taste. She figured perhaps he just needed a day to himself, and she was partially thankful to not have to deal with this strange new energy between the two of them for a little while. 

She tried to make sense of whatever it was between her and Astarion, and tried to figure out why he occupied her thoughts as much as he did. At first, she thought it was just because she hated him - she wanted to hate him, at least. She convinced herself that she did, for a good while. She wasn’t sure if it was so much hatred as it was a bad feeling about him - that he’d be her ruin in one way or the other. After all, he reminded her too much of a piece of her past that she’d tried so desperately to forget; but part of her thinks that was what drew her to him. 

She’d always been a glutton for punishment. 

And once again, after the years she spent alone, trying to forget and forgive herself for getting herself entangled in the web that was her last, she found herself thrust into an eerily similar situation. Well, not entirely similar, obviously. Nothing could ever be similar to the plight of being abducted by mind flayers and infected with their parasite. 

She laughed humorlessly to herself as she snapped out of her thoughtful daze, deciding maybe she needed a distraction. 

She found a spot just outside of camp to sit and sketch in the sketchbook that she found while looting the village earlier that day, bringing a spare bedroll with her in case she was too tired to walk back to camp.

There were a few pages occupied by crude goblin drawings of what looked to be a Lolthsworn Drow and a Hobgoblin that she assumed to be the ones they’d heard the goblins muttering about. She found it strange that it seemed there were several Drow in the area, like the one that was laid out on the table in the healer Nettie’s chambers that had been infected as well. It almost seemed that the Mind Flayers were targeting Drow specifically. She would be lying if she said the presence of her kin didn’t make her uneasy, only adding to the ever growing list of things weighing heavily on her. 

She sketches mindlessly, drawing whatever first comes to her mind and letting her hands and fingers do most of the work. The page is littered with random flowers, trees, faces, eyes - she doesn’t think much of it until she inspects the drawings a little closer and realizes the faces and eyes seem all too familiar. She stares at the pages, realizing she’d drawn several iterations of someone that looked eerily similar to Astarion.

There were several sketches of piercing red eyes that held an intense gaze, mouths that showcased a pair of sharp fangs and smile lines, and then a full on portrait of an elf with silvery curls. She runs her fingers along the pages, admiring them. After all, it wasn’t necessarily him, just something akin to him. There was no harm in daydreaming this nonexistent person - he couldn’t speak or hurt her. He existed only within these pages and her head. 

“I knew you were good with your hands, but those are quite nice, actually.” 

Speak of the devil.

She quickly slams the book closed, turning to him and glaring at him. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do than spy on me?” She sighs, too mentally drained to pick a fight. 

He sits next to her in the dirt, huffing when he hits the ground. “I was actually just coming back from hunting… or rather, attempting to.” 

She looks at him and suddenly notices the dark circles under his eyes and his already pallid skin a tone lighter and greyer than usual. His typically well groomed and pristine self replaced by a more sickly and weathered version of him. Yet still hauntingly beautiful, as if he could ever be anything else. 

“I can tell. You look like hell.” She jokes, a ghost of a smirk on the edges of her lips. 

He frowns, running his hand through his hair. “I wish I could argue with you, but if I look the way I feel, I can only imagine you’re right.” 

She isn’t sure why, but that same flash of worry she’d felt earlier when she noticed his strange behavior pangs through her. “When was the last time you fed?”

He ponders for a moment, seeming as though he really couldn’t remember. 

“On something substantial? A few days ago, I think. All I’ve been able to manage since then was the odd squirrel or rabbit. I fear the Druids may have warned all the local animals about me,” he jokes, huffing a laugh that sounds more like a sigh. 

“Oh…” She says, her voice trailing off as a thought crosses her mind that she quickly dismisses. 

“If I weren’t mistaken, I’d almost think you were worried about me, darling.” He winks, leaning his shoulder into hers. She rolls her eyes and bumps him off of her. 

“I don’t like you, but that doesn’t mean I want you to starve to death. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” 

She thinks back to the many nights she’d spent trying so desperately to sleep if only to stave off the pain in her gut as hunger gnawed at her insides, only for it to keep her awake for days on end until she was finally able to find even a measly morsel. 

“That may be the kindest thing you have ever said to me. I am touched, really.” He says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

They both laugh, then an unusually comfortable beat of silence befalls them. They sit there, just listening to the sounds of the night and each other’s breathing for a few moments, and for once the air around them is lighter, clearer. Amicable. 

He thinks to himself for a moment, and suddenly his demeanor shifts. He looks as though he were poised to say something, or ready to defend himself. Perhaps both, as he knew what he wanted to say could surely either get a stake driven through his heart… or, if luck was on his side, perhaps, exactly what he needed.

Aelia notices his demeanor shift, and a pit forms in her stomach. 

“You’re about to say something, so say it.” 

He runs a hand through his hair, then turns his face to look at her once again, his tired eyes giving their best attempt at being sultry in his very practiced and rehearsed way - instead being alluring in an entirely different way. They were hungry, but in a more desperate way - he looked at her as if she were the last bit of sustenance on all of Faerun, but not in the way he had that night in the forest. 

“Would asking you to promise not to kill me for what I’m about to say be out of bounds?” He asks.

“Asking me not to kill you in general is a big ask, so it really just depends.” She cocks a brow at him, watching him curiously.

He narrows his eyes, his lips curling into a frown. 

“I’m serious.” 

She snorts. “So am I.” 

He sighs, readjusting himself in the dirt and turning slightly to face her. “Can I trust you?”

She shrugs. “Probably not. But I’ll humor you once, I suppose, if it’ll get you to go away.” 

He looks at her, observing her for a moment, his eyes falling on the collar of her shirt and lingering there. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. 

“Have I ever told you how lovely that neck of yours is?” 

Oh.

Oh.

Her jaw goes slack, and her eyes widen. The shock of realization at what was on his mind paralyzes her for a moment - and then she laughs. 

Not just a chuckle - it was more like a cackle that bordered on mania, one that had her gasping for air and wiping tears from her eyes.

“I don’t believe I told a joke, darling.” 

She shakes her head, still laughing and trying to catch her breath. 

“You’re seriously asking me to let you bite me? I think the tadpole has finally scrambled what little brains you had to start with.” She chortles, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

He scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Do you realize how strong a well fed vampire really is? If you found me even slightly impressive before, which I know you did, imagine me twice as strong, twice as agile, twice as fast. You’d be stupid to pass up an opportunity to have me on your side, considering the bloodbath we’re sure to engage in sooner rather than later.” 

Her laughing slowly fades as she considers his proposal for a moment. She knew there was truth to his words - but she also knew the desperation of starving and being uncertain when your next meal might be, and how you would do anything to sustain for just a little longer… 

“How do I know you won’t just drain me and kill me?” She asks, matching his posture and intense gaze. 

He shrugs. “You don’t. That, you’ll just have to find it in yourself to trust me on, I suppose.” 

“I don’t know—“

“Please.”

She stares at him, her eyes settling on the dark and deep set bags under his crimson eyes. She wanted so badly to say no just to spite him and preserve whatever boundaries still remained between the two of them - yet, she couldn’t shake the sympathy she felt for him. As much as she hated to admit it, she did see a lot of herself in him. To deny him a chance to live and fight another day would go against everything in her as she’d been in his exact shoes a thousand times over, just hoping that someone would help her, hoping someone would rescue her. 

She feels her next words teetering on the edge of her tongue, but her better judgment is screaming for her to just stay quiet. She tries to reason with herself. Being down a single person when taking on an entire horde of goblins and possibly drow wouldn’t be optimal, especially someone like Astarion who was one of the stealthiest of the group and best with long range and quick melee encounters. But if she opened this door, she knew there could be a whole host of consequences as a result. She had to weigh the pros and cons deeply before just—

“Look,” she starts, already regretting opening her mouth to begin with, but she can’t seem to stop herself. “If I do this, you cannot tell anyone.”

Astarion’s eyes go wide for a moment, then his face falls to a cocky smirk, his gaze dropping to her neck once again. “These lips are sealed.” 

She shuts her eyes tight, and takes a breath, so she can get her words out properly. “This is a one time offer, and I mean that. But if you go too far, I swear to Selune—“

“You’ll slit my throat and shove a stake through my ribs?” He muses, his head tilted and eyebrow cocked. 

Gods, he looks so good right now— how does he look perfect even when on the edge of death?

“If you’re lucky.” She warns, as that dreadful fluttering makes yet another unwanted appearance in her gut. 

“I’ll be gentle as a babe.” He purrs, his crimson eyes now seeming two shades darker than before as he brings his face closer to hers. 

She watches him and it feels as if she were watching an animal close in on its prey, canines primed for sinking into the flesh of whatever poor creature ran foul of it. 

“Hold on, wait,” She breathes, holding her hand up to his chest and pushing him back gently. “Should we maybe, I don’t know… should I lie down?” 

He chuckles at her sudden nervousness, having never seen her so unsure of herself and pleased that he was the cause. He actually found it quite cute, in fact.

“I was actually hoping for a cheeky kiss, but I suppose maybe that comes after,” he winks. 

She rolled her eyes so hard that she feared they might fall out. “I’m not doing this for any other reason aside from keeping you alive and strong. Need I remind you we have an entire horde of goblins to cut through?” 

He smirks. “But you have to admit, you are a little curious… aren’t you?” 

She swallows hard. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it, ever since the nature of Astarion’s condition had been revealed to them by that Gur hunter in the hag’s swamp. She’d never met a vampire herself before, but she’d heard others whisper in the taverns about the erotic side of being bitten by one, and that curiosity always lingered in the back of her mind. 

“Do you want to do this or not? I’m perfectly happy with leaving you here to starve, if that’s what you’d prefer.” She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest and scooting into the bedroll she’d set up earlier. 

He raises his hands up in surrender, crawling toward her on his hands and knees, stopping when his face was merely inches from hers. 

Their eyes meet for what felt like an eternity, his blood red eyes boring into her silver ones like fire meeting ice. He could feel her warm breath ghosting against his cheeks and he could smell the faint scent of campfire and wet grass on her. He could hear her heart racing in her chest and her breath quickening as he inched closer. He reveled in the way he knew only he could make her react and feel - and adored even more so how badly she tried to resist it.

She swallows hard as she tries desperately to avert her gaze anywhere but at him, only for him to grip her chin between a finger and a thumb and tilt her face back to his. 

“Look at me.” He commands, his voice low and husky. 

She reluctantly obliges, her eyes wide and expectant. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I need a direct yes or no.” 

She thinks for a moment, knowing this was a perfect moment for an easy out - but the positives far outweighed any negatives in this situation, much to her dismay. 

“Yes. I’m sure. Now do it before I change my mind.” She says simply, her eyes narrowing slightly. 

He chuckles, placing a kiss to the corner of her mouth that nearly knocks the breath from her lungs. It was a small gesture that probably meant nothing and he was just playing the part to get what he wanted - but it felt like something a long term doting lover would do to their partner. It felt out of place in this scenario, which was merely a transaction. She feels her cheeks flare and surely turn an embarrassing shade of pink as he grins at her, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her backward onto the bedroll. 

He crawled over her, settling his knee between her legs and hovering over her body which was going absolutely haywire at their sudden proximity. He placed his hand behind her head, cradling her as if she were the most precious object in the entire world and required the utmost delicate of care as he used his other hand to snake around her waist. 

She tilted her head to the side, just enough to give him easy access, and braced herself for what she was sure would likely not be worth the trouble of surrendering herself to him - once again. 

He happily brought his lips to her neck, his smile evident as he trailed hungry kisses along her skin, searching for her pulse point. When he finally locates it, he places a wet, open mouthed kiss and nips teasingly at the spot. 

“Hold on tight, darling.” He warns, prompting her to grip the bedroll so tight that she feared it might rip.

She’s surprised when she feels his hand gripping her wrist and directing her hand to relocate to his waist. 

“This way you can tell me when it’s too much, and I’ll stop. Okay?” 

She nods, then obliges him, gripping his shirt the same way she’d gripped the bedroll, earning a satisfied hum from Astarion.While she appreciated his need for express consent, part of her wondered whether it was to stroke his own ego and have her admit that she wanted this, or if there was something more to it than she knew. 

“Are you comfortable?” He asks, his cool breath against the wet spot on her skin where his mouth had been previously sending a chill through her. 

She rolls her eyes. “Do you ever stop talking?” 

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against her. “No taste for chivalry, noted.” 

She sighs, but before she can retort, his lips are on her neck again, his teeth grazing the skin. He pokes her with his fangs as a brief warning before sinking them into the flesh. 

The pain is quick and sharp, icy in combination with his already frigid touch. She feels her blood pumping and leaving her as he suckles at the small puncture wounds, her vision blurring and tears forming in her eyes. She jolts at the sensation, earning a growl from Astarion. In his hunger induced daze, his hand that was behind her head fists the hair at the nape of her neck, raising her slightly into him. 

There were a million sensations and thoughts flooding her mind and body - the most unwelcome one being a pooling of desire in her gut as his knee scoots slightly too far up and his leg presses against her slowly heating core, the sudden friction mixed with his tongue swiping her neck causing her to moan involuntarily. 

Her legs instinctively move to squeeze together, only squeezing his leg between them in the process but still providing a hint of relief at the pressure. Astarion seems to take notice, moving his hand that had been on the small of her back further down to grab the swell of her ass.

Her hand flies up to grip the back of his neck, her other hand still gripping the fabric at his waist. She feels her hips buck against her own will, her body seemingly having taken on a mind of its own entirely in her bloodless fog. 

Astarion scoots his knee back slightly, causing her to frown at the loss of sensation. He lowers himself down, his body now completely flush against her and his evident erection pressing against her leg, his hip digging into her crotch slightly and causing her to sigh in relief at the return of pressure against her throbbing and increasingly needy cunt. His hips roll against her, his cock rubbing into her thigh and delivering the most delicious sensation. 

She feels herself starting to get light headed, but she couldn’t decipher if it was due to him drinking from her or from pure lust as he rolls his hips against her. Only when black spots appear in her vision does she realize it was likely from the blood loss, and she taps Astarion’s hip a few times to queue him to stop. 

He’s too lost in her to notice, so he continues for a few more seconds before she nudges his shoulder instead, hoping it’ll get his attention. 

“Astarion, enough,” she whispers weakly, her voice strained and her eyes shut tight. 

His eyes widen as realization hits and he quickly moves away from her, his hands moving to brace himself up so that he’s hovering over her. 

His eyes scanned her face for a moment, worried that he’d taken it too far. Her silver eyes flutter open, meeting his for a moment before she turns her face away, averting her gaze to anywhere but him. 

“Are you well?” He asks, placing a hand over her chest where her heart is and feeling the rapid rhythm thrumming against his palm. 

She sucks in a breath at the contact, her body still trying to make sense of what had just occurred. She still felt her desire pulsing and throbbing as it slowed to an eventual halt, her mind beginning to clear without his lips on her throat. 

She scoffs playfully. “Aside from the obvious - yes, I’m fine. Do you feel better?” 

He nods. “Better than better. That was… more than anything I could’ve ever imagined.” 

“Good to know you were imagining drinking my blood,” She says, a grimace beginning to settle on her features. “Perhaps I should be flattered.”

He smirks at her, swiping leftover blood off of his mouth with his thumb and licking it off. “You can hardly blame me, darling. If the taste of you I got the last time was anything to judge by, I knew you would be absolutely divine.”

The heat rushes back to her cheeks and the urge to clamp her legs shut again is strong. How does he always do that?

“Do you have these perfectly prepared and rehearsed lines for every situation?”

He brings a hand up to cup her jaw, tapping her chin with his thumb. “Oh, my love, you have no idea. I’ve only just begun.” 

Aelia is out her fighting for her life fr (fun fact, in my actual campaign for her, we’re only in act 1 and she already almost have perfect approval with astarion and I wasn’t even TRYING to get that high of approval with him this soon, I genuinely have no idea how it happened) ((she’s also kind of got a thing going on with karlach because I just can’t say no to her 😭 I’m sad I know I’m gonna break her heart ugh!!!!)

also lmk how u guys feel about it being an actual tav/character and if u like it, I’m kinda just experimenting for now we shall see

#love a good blood drinkin fic sorry I couldn’t resist #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x f!tav #astarion x tav #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion smut #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #aat #my fics

[writingbyshiloh]

Sharp Dressed Man

AN: mutual pining with FBI's most wanted and agent! Reader has my heart idk what to tell you guys. I'll do the tag list at some point I'm just lazy

WC: 0.6k

"Where do you think you're going?" Ressler snaps at Reddington. The criminal doesn't even look phased by Ressler's attitude, instead, he just adjusts his fedora.

"Inside. That's where the criminals are, Donald." He replies, cocking his head as if to better analyze the situation. You press your lips together to hide a smile. A smile which has nothing to do with your small, schoolgirl crush on the concierge of crime. To avoid getting caught smiling, you zip up your FBI windbreaker, the only one in the group to have visible government identification.

Donald leads the way, pushing the door to Reddington. Instead of keeping with the chain, he holds the door open for you. You walk through, politely thanking him and wait in the lobby. When he follows, you allow him to walk in front of you. Having him in the middle helps keep his profile low.

To prevent Raymond from charming the receptionist, Donald leads the group, informing her why you're here (to collect files), who you represent (special FBI task force), and who the man in the suit is (a lie about how he's your supervisor). The files are only minor, nothing critical but the company's phone reception is abysmal.

You can only focus on how she smiles at Ressler, warm and slightly fascinated at what a man in a suit with an important job is telling her. You can't blame her.

"I have some files here, but most are kept in storage on the third floor." she helpfully tells the group, only glancing at you and Reddington, keeping her eyes on Donald. If he's not picking up on her hints it may be time for him to retire. She's toying with her necklace, drawing attention to her lips. Maybe you can give Ressler a shove in the right direction.

"Is anyone on the third floor?" You ask, watching her eyes draw slowly to you. Not rudely or abruptly, but in a caught-oggling way. You flash her a small smile.

"Mhmm. Lon should be up there. I can call him if you'd like." She says, reaching for her desk phone.

"You should stay here. We can go up to the third floor." You tell Donald, a slight bite in your voice so he doesn't argue. Before he can reply, slide your hand on Reddington's shoulder to get him away from the desk.

Once directly in front of you, you give his shoulders a push towards the stairs. Raymond tries to keep his breath steady as he feels you press your chest into his back. Your arms are on his shoulders, trying to move his as fast as you can. You're taking small, wide steps, being careful not to step on his shoes. He's thankful for that but in all honestly, he wouldn't mind whatever you do to him, so long as you're this close.

Once you're out of eyesight, you peel yourself off, looking sheepish. "Sorry, I saw how the receptionist was looking at him, I think she likes him."

"I understand, my dear. Something about a sharp-dressed man?" He asks, slowly acceding the stairs, with you right behind.

"Ew. He's not sharply dressed, he looks like every other FBI agent in a suit." You reply, hoping that Raymond doesn't pick up the subtext in your words, that his suits are much nicer.

He does, but for your sake keeps it to himself. Maybe he'll wear the cream one tomorrow, try and impress you.

#raymond reddington fan fic #raymond reddington x you #raymond reddington x reader #AYOOOO WERE BACK TO THIS MAN!!!!!!!!! #Totally unexpected burst of motivation watching season 2 (phew those suits.....)

[snow-and-saltea]

People I'd like to know better

Tagged by @paleasamoon (hi tex i love you tex sorry this took a year) (HEH. get it. cus you tagged me last year. heh.)

Last song: just putting on yt music as im reading manga and talking to muwi, and now its playing burn for you, from the bridgerton musical! (i don't know watch or follow it) (it's just a nice song) but i'd also like to recommend this song

Favourite colour: YELLOW!!!! 💛💛💛💛💛💛

Currently watching: my computer screen writing this up

Last movie / TV show: skip to loafer! i was screaming with muwi the entire time bc the story was so sweet and healing and everyone is so sympathetic and cute and we kept being like AAAAAAAAAA I LOVE WOMEN FRIENDSHIPS SO MUCHHHHHH

Spicy/savoury/sweet: sweet! if i could choose a combo, i like savoury-sweet. i like spice but only if i like the flavour! i'm not keen on the actual pain sensation of spice!!

Last thing I googled: hummmm i don't remember... i think a marinade recipe i made yesterday night? i made a korean base marinade for some lamb chops!! i cooked them today and invited my sister to eat with us, it was rlly yummy!

Relationship status: single! waves my aroace flag!!! i'm curious about how it feels to be in a relationship but it's not smth i try to actualize LOL i'm content w reading my shoujosei man-ga/hwa/huas <33

Current obsession: idk if i could call them obsessions yet but right now i'm really invested in sousou no frieren (anime only, havent caught up to the manga), skip to loafer (same there), and i'm looking for more wholesome healing stories. although now that i'm going through my reading lists for stories i've dropped, i'm laughing at them fjaksfjkasfj

(i promise this one has proper context bc i usually like pacifist mcs just bc i like politics and connection seeking to be based on a foundation of empathy and kindness. but this one was just so stupid and just a way to establish how good the mc was to the point that i couldn't get immersed in the story bc it was that nonsensical and i wanted to die)

i'm typically fine w mary sues / jane(?) FLs and i even tend to be biased for them just bc there's a lot of misogyny about the subject matter, so i normally don't bat an eye unless it's a writing choice i find unsuitable / doesn't fulfill the potential it could've achieved with an interesting plot.

(btw the context is that the first screenie which this rant also applies to was when some guy caught the baddies and the FL is like "No let's reward them for trying to kill us. they're just misunderstood!! i bet if we try really hard we can all get along!!")

but! i only really like it when it actually does something useful, like thematically or symbolically. like tohru's innate goodness for furuba inline with the sohma's family curse and mitsumi's unending positivity and earnestness that helps the people around her heal from emotional wounds. not that they're mary sues in any way, but since people understand mary sues as "female protagonists who can do no wrong and will be liked no matter what" (even thought their psychology and personality is just genuinely likeable), i think it makes my point clear. there's a way to write a character who is Good and Kind without cheapening them to a naivete that at best, makes the mc pitiable, or worst, is treated like the mc's totally unique worldview of "lets be nice to people and never hurt anyone ever :)" is the end all be all of the story and the solution to the plot. kindness and empathy is a coiled spring that projects you forward, a motivator. it's how you guide your hand and where it goes, not that the hand is never raised. i don't agree that cowardice towards change and the potential promise of conflict is any kind of wisdom >:T plus it kinda puts the shame to the idea of kindness as a legitimate basis for political strategy, and that leads to some set up for a lot of zero sum games i don't care for in this specific story. there is a good story where each character is trying to one up each other politically, psychologically, at all times, but this is not that story and so the tone feels very off kilter.

but yeah!! sometimes a character is just OP and the story is not even having fun with it (aka its not satire or irony), which makes me think they want to take it seriously. and my serious thoughts was that it sucked.

(i just realised this also applies to the first screenie LMFAO it just loops back huh!!)

not gonna comment about the others bc i think they speak for themselves <33 but also the first one of these three is fucked up in the sense that i dont even get where they're going w the story. its a revenge story and the FL uses the ML from childhood to achieve her revenge, but then suddenly when he's an adult she has Feelings for Him and now im like.... okay....? belief no longer suspended. beliefs are like those garter straps that snapped. my socks are like my beliefs. fallen to my feet. they are no longer suspended.

sorry that got off track </33 i enjoy looking into why i dont like things, im in this stage of life where i realise i actually have specific ass tastes!! i always have, but i just realised it very recently a few years back fjskfjskjf

People I'd like to know better (i also wanna include some mutuals who i haven't talked to but i like to see on my dash):

@snickerdoodlles

@fflewddurfflam7

@00uroboros

@perpetualstateofcrying

@pirate-with-internet-connection

💛🐢😤💪

#yuu rambles #thank you tex and this was rlly long sorry before i realised i've spent like 20 mins writing my rant about idealism JFAKSJFKASFJ #<3333

[rayofsunshinc]

Rate your muse's traits 0-10! Repost and rate your muse's traits, then tag your followers.

Daryl Dixon

Compassion: 8/10. Way more often than not.

Bitterness: 6/10. I would say for a long time, Daryl had difficulty letting go of the bad things that happened to him. Oddly, it seems like the worse things get, the less bitter he really is.

Happiness: 5/10. He can't catch a break ISTG

Politeness: 3/10. He's not exactly rude, and definitely isn't on purpose, but he just doesn't understand why people tiptoe around things. And manners are mostly out the window due to the way he was brought up.

Chivalry: 8/10.

Pride: 5/10. I had the hardest time rating this one. I don't think that he thinks much about how far he's come, nor do I think that he has a big ego. If I gave it a 5, it's based entirely on the fact that he wasn't willing to call himself Negan, no matter how badly he was tortured and treated when he was prisoner with The Saviors.

Honesty: 9/10. Daryl might try to spare your feelings, but ... that's about it lol

Bravery: 10/10.

Recklessness: 8/10. He is usually wilding out, but has been known to call for peace sometimes.

Ambition: 5/10. Idk. I feel like if he wants to get something done, he gets it done. He doesn't really think about what he wants, he just does shit to get by.

Loyalty: 10/10.

Love: 4/10. Woof.. I mean, as far as romantic love goes anyway. It's not that he couldn't be ranked higher, he just hasn't gotten much of a chance to be. I'm giving him some extra points because I think he has potential.

Sense of family: 7/10. Earlier in his life, this was obviously way lower. He's always had Merle though, and that's where his big sense of loyalty stems from. Merle was blood, but he was also always there for Daryl (in his own way) and Daryl felt like he owed Merle for that. I think Merle really both helped Daryl feel a sense of family and pushed him from wanting to feel that with other people (abusive... manipulative.. but that's another post). It makes me literally want to cry thinking about when Merle was like "Ain't nobody ever gonna care about you except me." because CLEARLY everyone cares about Daryl and he has so much family by the end of the TWD. Daryl considers the group his family. He's referred to Rick as his brother on multiple occasions and I mean, he's practically raising Judith and RJ for awhile. He had fatherly vibes with Lydia. He and Carol are OBVIOUSLY family. I think that when he told her he loved her that was one of like the only times he's ever said that in his life?? Even though he has so much family and love, I do think he has a hard time accepting and believing it.

Attractiveness: 10/10. This is a totally biased rating.

Agility: 10/10. He's done a lot of insane shit that only proves this is true lol

Sex drive: 2/10. I truly don't think it's something that he worries about whatsoever. I gave a 2 just because a 1 seemed unbelievable.

Tagged by @fcllederage Tagging: @ripkaspbrak (or any muse you're feeling of course!), @fxntasmagoria, @multivcrsity, @painofhumanity, @witchoflegends, any muses ya'll want to expand on - and also anyone else who sees this

#daryl: about #dash games

[tobeferre]

Hello there!

It's about time I did a post like this. Hi, I'm Charlie, known to my close friends as Charles or Ferre, and I love writing.

I'm a polytechnic student, and am currently studying for my diploma in Story and Content Creation (for media). I am a huge theatre fan, mainly Les Miserables, and I kinda go batshit crazy over Star Wars at times.

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

Alright, with all the introductions out of the way, I've been thinking about being more active on Tumblr so I'll be opening writing requests to anyone who may be interested. I mainly write Star Wars and Les Mis, you may check me out at archiveofourown.org/users/CharlesAndCo for the works I have published. (I implore you to ignore my Marvel fics...) But before everything, I do have several boundaries when it comes to writing for requests, so please, I hope you'll respect them if you're thinking of requesting for any fics.

I will absolutely not write /reader fics, even gender neutral readers or male readers.

The ships I specialise in are as follows: for Les Mis, Valvert, Enjoltaire, Courfius, Combeferre/Jehan; for Star Wars: Obikin, QuiObi, Anidala. I would not be opposed to exploring other ships, but I will put my foot down if it comes to any ship I am uncomfortable with, which does not happen often but if it does, consider this a warning.

If I have any ongoing WIPs when you request, especially oneshots that are meant to be gifts to my friends, I will not prioritise your request over the works for them. I love my friends to hell and back, the only way to get around this would be to become my friend, I guess.

NSFW is... well, it depends. I may or may not write NSFW depending on how I feel about it. To put it simply, I have had bad experience when it comes to sex, and so sometimes certain things do trigger me and bring back bad memories. So unless you really think that I would enjoy writing the NSFW request you send in, I'd appreciate it if you mainly stick to SFW works. Thanks :)

If I am uncomfortable, due to any reason, with the request you send in, I will probably very politely decline to write your request.

I write trans stuff as well. HMU if you want me to write a Trans!Javert fic for ya ;))))

I'm pretty versatile when it comes to writing. If you have any specific writing genres or styles you wish me to write, include it in your request and I'll see if I can meet your expectations. For example, if you want me to write an introspection for you, say it in your request, and I'll gladly write it for you!

What you could request:

Les Mis (Musical, 1972, 1978, sigh 2012)

Other musicals like Newsies,

Moulin Rouge (movie my beloved, wouldn't mind musical too)

Falsettos

Catch Me If You Can (musical)

Little Shop of Horrors

Jesus Christ Superstar

(Maybe...?) Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Star Wars (mainly Prequels, may write OT though)

If any other musicals that you might want to request is not in this list, you could check with me if I know it/would write it. And yes, Hamilton, DEH, BMC ain't on here, I will not be writing them, thank you.

More might be added, as I discover and watch more shows.

That's about it from me for now. Idk if I'll get any requests from anyone that ain't my friends (not to say that my friends can't request anything, y'all would actually have priority), but I was bored and I need to start writing more. If you've made it to the end here, thanks for reading.

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

For more information about tags:

#les mis #les miserables #star wars #valvert #exr #enjoltaire #obikin #quiobi #star wars prequels #bla bla bla tags #i want exposure so here are like 2% of all the tags i should tag for this post #fanfic #fanfiction #les mis fanfic

[steviebeastinks]

I posted 3,004 times in 2022

That's 2,256 more posts than 2021!

19 posts created (1%)

2,985 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@uwu-exe

@wizardpotions

@elytrians

@cvberitual

@wizard-email

I tagged 2,298 of my posts in 2022

Only 24% of my posts had no tags

#tumblr report - 177 posts

#art - 124 posts

#goncharov - 100 posts

#cats - 98 posts

#unreality - 84 posts

#yeah - 77 posts

#wizard posting - 74 posts

#how to find meaning - 68 posts

#tender - 68 posts

#ugh so true girl - 56 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#we joke that we wouldn’t have gotten along but i think that as long as no other kids got in the way we could have been so kind to each other

I sent 3 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

men’s bathrooms are so scary why does anyone bother with this !!! why can’t all bathrooms be single person, spacious, and non gendered 😭

2 notes - Posted December 27, 2022

#4

i don’t use twitter anymore so idk how the fandom is reacting but here’s my prediction on how ppl are handling dream’s face reveal:

fan artists upset that he is not the blond twink they’ve been drawing for the past 3 years or whatever

ppl who go bat shit fucking crazy over the fact that his reason for revealing it now had to do with being best friends w George (dnf stans r probably frothing rn)

the undying loyalists who are fucking STOKED even tho he’s Just Some Guy

the trolls i already saw in his comments section saying he looks like lord farquaad 💀

everyone else:

3 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

#3

i have finally…………..changed my high school blog name………….

starrynightsandfairylights, may she rest in peas

steviebeastinks is the new sheriff in town >:))

3 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

#2

time to finally make a pinned post ahaha

i’m stevie (he/they), 22 years old 🐝

if ur from tiktok, hi! u found me! this blog is a secret unless we’re mutuals then i lov u 💛

i mostly reblog shitposts & political stuff but sometimes also art n pretty shit ⭐️

my best posts go under #yeah (which is either yeah😌 or yeah😔 and it’s russian roulette as far as which you’ll encounter) 🍯

if u want to block sad/political posts, i tag them under #important and just started using #vent 🌙

my ask box is open & DMs from mutuals are welcome ! 🌼

4 notes - Posted June 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

“Arbor Square” is a goofy & introspective adult animated comedy series created by Eli Murphy and Stevie Maxwell. It follows Quinn and Jonathan, a pair of incompetent roommates-turned-baristas trying to make lives for themselves in the quirky titular borough of Arbor Square.

Quinn is a non-binary wild card who spends their free time getting up to (semi-legal) shenanigans!

Jonathan is a neurotic but soft-hearted lover boy who is often the only thing standing between Quinn and a prison sentence!

Their boss Cassian does his best to maintain order and drive up profits for Arbor Square Coffee & Kombucha, but he’s locked in a bitter and potentially steamy feud with Jessica, the manager of the Skybears coffee chain across the street!

Glenn, an eccentric hippie from a bygone era, is the cafe’s number one patron and rounds out the main cast!

Together this odd group will discover what it means to be neighbors in the age of wage work and late-stage capitalism >:)

39 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#showing off all my flop posts is VERY funny #my 2022 tumblr year in review #2022 tumblr year in review #year in review #Youtube

[uncannylaw]

FOLLOW Or BOUNCE

DNI/…

gon head and look at that list bc I’m being deadass when it comes to this stuff. If you’re anything on that list move around bc I ain’t got the time to deal with the bullshit

BYI/…

- I tend to spam whenever I’m in the mood

- I do have a job and am a college student, I will sometimes be inactive but will try my best to upload whenever I am free

- I am BLACK there will be times where I speak about issues surrounding my community, if this will piss you off or make you uncomfy bounce

- when it comes to asks I will do my very best to get to them when possible. Don’t SPAM, that gets annoying very quickly and I will 9/10 delete the ask. Sometimes I’ll answer them all in one day, sometimes it takes a few days, pls be patient and know that I haven’t forgotten you

- I’m nice but am very quick to get pissed if pushed to that point, I want this to be fun for everyone. Don’t come onto my blog acting an ass bc I am swift to press block

- as stated above I’m BLACK I do use the N-word, if this makes you uncomfy gon head and leave. I don’t need anyone trying to police what’s in my vocabulary.

- any and everyone is welcome but do know that my stuff is written with a black reader in mind, sometimes I’ll do stuff where the reader is ambiguous but unless stated assume the reader is black

- I'm still relatively new to Tumblr so pls bare with me. If I tag something incorrectly pls inform me so I can fix it!

WRITING THINGS/…

- I am open to critique but if you’re an asshole expect me to ignore you

- send asks about any and everything I want to see the unhinged stuff, send random horny asks, talk to me about music, tell me about a new anime obsession, I am open to listening to you guys

- as stated most of my readers will be black, I will sometimes write an ambiguous character

- my writing can go from afab! Fem! Readers to amab! Male! Readers. I am willing to try and dabble in trans masc/trans fem but I will need to do more research. If you have any advice or info for trans masc/trans fem pls let me know

- I tend to post whatever is on my mind, this can be from things that are considered political to random ass rants on tv shows, characters, or music

- I DO NOT age up characters, if they’re a minor they will remain a minor (bc that’s weird asf)

- I will dabble in nsfw if that makes you uncomfortable pls leave

KINKS/… (Safe)

This list is of things I’m willing to write

- Dacryphilia

- Impact play

- knife play

- gun play

- hard doms

- bondage

- Overstim

- Voyeurism (Consensual ofc!)

KINKS/… (Not Safe)

- Noncon (why is this even a kink)

- Dubcon (idk how to feel about this one tbh)

- ddlg (…..)

- ageplay (why is this a thing???)

- incest/stepcest (again why does this exist??)

- age gap (if they can be considered your parent absolutely not, if reasonable then we can work something out possibly)

- piss/scat

If there is something that isn’t stated that I’m not comfortable with I will politely decline

These are the RULES follow them or bounce, other than that let’s have fun!!!

#rules #read and proceed with caution #i promise i’m nice #uncannylaw

[b0ther]

tags : drabble/one-shot idk. feminine pronouns, afab reader / royalty or kingdom au, inspired by kill the villainess, eating out, semi-public and clothed though they don’t have sex yet lol we’re gonna have to wait for part two, this was supposed to be short but i got carried away bye.

i’ve been reading a lot of reincarnation manhwas, and i can’t stop thinking about knight yuuta.

knight yuuta with tough, veiny, calloused hands, his fingers are long and pretty and knuckles are chipped with dried blood; a boy that spends his days practicing his swordsmanship against a dull dummy until the sun sets. knight yuuta who is then knighted by a duke’s daughter, whose lips are zipped with obvious intention to display her disinclination to be in the ceremony. knight yuuta who follows the lady home that night, three steps behind her at all times, and recognizes that the vicinity around her isn’t the one that he is welcomed in; knight yuuta who doesn’t speak of it or point it out either way.

“i don’t need a knight,” the lady then says one afternoon, eyes closed as she sips on her most favored flavor of tea under the bright sunlight. knight yuuta is sitting across her, eyes vigilantly watching her every move and ears perked up as if someone is going to ambush her in her own garden — he insisted that the lady enjoy her afternoon tea alone, you see, that he isn’t fit to be sitting on the same table as a lady. but she looked up at him with disinterest that struck his chest, questioning his loyalty to her. he immediately took the only empty seat on the round table.

the duke’s daughter, knight yuuta quickly learns, has a cute side to herself. she keeps him close to her, in the mansion and in the castle, even when she told him that she has no need of him to be around. she takes him to the market, and inside extravagant boutiques that he had never thought that he could enter. and though she has her own lady-in-waiting, she prefers discerning his opinion over hers. knight yuuta does not think of dresses often, and so he carelessly picks ones that he thinks would look best on his lady, and waits just outside the changing room.

but she drags him in, her touch delicate and unforgettable, it’s the first time he’s been touched by those soft hands — she smells of lemon cakes and roses; his lady closes the door and tells him to sit on a chair on the very back of the room. one servant argues — it would be improper for him to see you change, my lady — and she indifferently waves their reasoning away, “he is the only person in this room who has sworn his life to me, wouldn’t it be audacious of me to place my faith on all of you but not him?” as more complaints flows out of the servant’s mouth, his lady raises one hand to silence them and commands another to undo the laces of her dress. that day, knight yuuta learns of the boundaries the lady placed between them — he also learns that the lady has smooth, silky skin, and though his expression is unmoving as he watches her undress to her corset, both hands on his knees forms a fist.

neither knight yuuta nor his lady likes the crown prince very much. he came to learn that the person he is serving is second only to the crown prince, his lady’s inimical fiancé, and that she holds power and influent that most people would not be able to even imagine. knight yuuta knows his lady as one who is loved by all in the duke’s household — and how can one not? his lady, despite her frigid appearance, has the heart of gold that many claims to have, and he is convinced that no one in the kingdom is able to rival neither her elegance nor beauty. and so he wonders, day and night, how is her fate so ill that she is set to marry the wretched prince.

knight yuuta has not ever comment on the countless times his lady hides behind the palace pavilions, shielding herself from leering eyes as she continues to sob and wail quietly into her fragile palms. he has never seen her cry, at all times, he is on the lookout for people that are walking towards them — his gaze is enough to send them away — so that his lady’s dignity would not be tarnished any more than what that bastard prince has commit. he’d kill him, knight yuuta swears, if he isn’t the goddamned crown prince, he’d slit his throat wide open for making his lady cry.

why would anyone choose another woman than his lady? why would anyone openly flaunt their choice in picking arrogant and crude ladies to be their partner? doing so is one thing, but letting his lady catch them in the middle of coition is another. she is trying her best to fit in the mold of the perfect king’s wife, and the crown prince insists lazing around with no inch of grace in his body, even knight yuuta, who comes from a lowly origin, knows better than to exhibit infidelity even in a political driven engagement.

his lady asks him to accompany her to a nighttime tea one evening, and who is knight yuuta to refuse? the underlying sparks in her eyes isn’t present, her voice is low under flickering candlelight as she brings her cup to her lips. “you’re the only one i can trust, sir yuuta,” she says without precipitating movements, “you are my only friend.” that night, yuuta stabs his blade through the chest of a man who tried to bring a knife up to his lady’s face in her own garden. though his lady is unmoving, she lifts her gaze to the sky as the assassin breathes his last breath, “the crown prince has trivialized my knight.” as yuuta peers up at his lady, his eyes widen in overwhelming exalt — she looks magnificent.

trips to town has become a weekly occurrences for yuuta and his lady; her favorite hobby is to dress in regular clothings and prance down the marketplace, making him carry all her luggages. the downtown theater is her best loved place — a new short play every week is to be presented, with new songs and new tricks. his lady loves stories, and yuuta loves watching her eyes light up at every twist the play would offer. though that evening, his lady’s melancholic frown seeps pass her defenses, and he immediately recognizes the presence of the crown prince three rows under where they are sitting — in his arm is another lover yuuta does not recognize.

as his hand creeps to the hilt of his sword, his lady stood up. she is silent, as always, trying her best to not be the center of attention, as she makes her way out the exit. all thoughts of harming the crown prince escapes his mind — his lady is all that matters, after all. he follows her to the empty night streets, hand flying out to catch her wrist; yuuta disobeys his lady for the first time and did not let go even when she tries to pry him off. she refuses to look at him, and he understands, so he tugs her frail body towards his larger one, hand pressing her forehead against his chest.

“i don’t even love him,” as soon as he feels his lady’s sobbings, yuuta pulls them into an alleyway — he will not see her crying face, so no one else can do so. her fingers grip his tunic, tears sopping the material and yuuta can only rock them back and forth as a vain attempt in calming her down. “yuuta, i’m a-always doing my best, i-is that not enough?”

yuuta grits his teeth at the question — he’d kill the crown prince, he swears it. he pulls her from his chest, for the first time, he takes in the sight of her piteous face — her tear-stained cheeks are flushed, eyes swollen, and chest heaving. his heart clenches at the sight, and so, he closes his eyes and brings his large hand to cup her jaws, leaning down to catch her quivering lips with his.

at first, yuuta expects a harsh shove. he expects a slap on his face, or perhaps even a punch. he does not expect for his lady to be melting into the contact; all the tension on his shoulders fades away as he falls in deeper to the kiss, one hand wrapping around her small waist to hold her body closer to his. he can feel her hiccups as she raises her arms to snake around his neck, pulling him down towards her. yuuta knows that he should be careful when it comes to his delicate lady, that he should hold himself back as he is much stronger than she is; and he might have committed a sin when he thrusts her onto the wall.

he silently reprimands his excitement, and while he keeps each hand on her jaw and waist, his dark eyes peered down to his lady, waiting for her to rebuke his actions. but she does not comment on the cold wall or his daring decision — instead, she looks down to her feet, still trying to manage her hiccups, and quietly asks, “are you not going to kiss me again?”

splutters of apologies fly out his lips — he has kissed the crown prince’s fiancé, and while the fear of his own life is not present, yuuta fears for his lady’s. she turns away for a moment, her then erratic breath is now calm and slow, muttering something yuuta does not quite catch. she unhooks her arms from his neck, her soft touch traveling from his neck to the curves of his hard jaws. turning to look at him, shy and timid, his lady grips the base of the hand on her jaw with her smaller ones, tugging it off his face and placing it very carefully on the mound of her breast.

yuuta holds his breath.

the resilient lady keeps her eye contact — he doesn’t know how she does it — and presses her fingers on top of his, making him dig into the fabric and feel his digits drowning in the soft flesh underneath. yuuta does not say a word, he merely does what his lady tells him to do. “you can move,” her pliable voice whispers, and so he does. he takes the initiative to fondle her chest, stepping in closer as he admires how she fits perfectly in his wide palm. the fingers on his hand loosens; his lady takes one thumb to nibble between her teeth as yuuta continues to knead her mound, his breath hot against her face. he was so engrossed in her breast, that when his lady lets out a low sigh, he immediately pulls away.

at an instant, his eyes goes to her face — has he hurt her? he is greeted, however, by his lady’s flushed face (now for an entirely different reason) and her drool pooling on her thumb and on the corner of her pretty lips, threatening to spill out. has her lips always been this plump? yuuta feels his cock hardening against the restraining fabric of his pants as he thinks about how his kiss may be the one making her look so. . . amorous.

“sir yuuta,” his lady whimpers, and he almost flinched at how sultry the complaint sounds. she is so different from the lady he usually serves — so different from the usual bold and prideful woman that she is. yuuta raises his hand back to her chest and she lets out a sigh of relief; his lady looks so small as he towers her, so supple and pliant. is he allowed to do this? is he allowed to see her in such state?

she must have noticed his hesitation. her teeth let go of the thumb in her mouth and she slowly tugs the material of her long skirt to her chest. yuuta let go of her body completely and allows her to exhibit her smooth skin, the fat of her thighs making his head go dizzy even when he’s seen her change so many times. the reveal of her undergarments is slow, but yuuta doesn’t mind, not when his lady is revealing so much of herself to him — her laced underwear cups the shape of her pussy so well, that he almost convinces himself that it’s a sin to be staring for so long.

yuuta swallows the lump in his throat and squats before his lady, the case of his blade clashing against the ground. his face is just inches from her core, breath blowing against her warmth when his lady breaks his trance, “y-you can touch it. if you want.”

he may as well faints. yuuta looks up at his lady who’s intently staring back at him, tense from all that is happening. something tells him that she wants him to touch her, and so he raises one finger — just one, he tries not to be greedy — and presses that finger flat against the length of her slit.

“ngh—“

the responses are all so new for him. he keeps his eyes on his lady as her face rumples into an expression he has never seen her worn — it stirs something inside of him. he wants nothing more but to take his cock out and beat it to the expression she is showing him, but he doesn’t do it. instead, he waits for her cues while occasionally pressing harder on her mound.

“you—“ his lady takes his hand and directs him to a specific spot of her groin; yuuta can feel a bud nestling right there under her underwear, “—you can touch me there.”

yuuta follows her command, and he finds his heart drumming against his chest when his lady’s fingers immediately grips his hair. he places his free hand on her thigh — one he has been longing to hold — and continues pressing her down on the spot she had shown him while occasionally running his finger up and down her slit.

his eyes never leaves his beautiful lady’s face, only glancing to what is in front of him for a moment to see her undergarments getting darker in color when he feels his finger getting wet. yuuta swallows the lump of his throat again — she looks so ravishing, he must say, so inviting. it takes every fiber of his being to not do anything too rash, he wouldn’t want his lady to be uncomfortable around him, but he is only getting more and more close to her pulsating core. her little pants are music to his ears, her little moans of his name — and just his name. they both don’t know what to say in times like this, and yuuta feels content with his lady calling out to him with her velvety voice.

until, of course, something inside of him decides that it’s a good idea to press his lips against the fabric separating his finger and her folds. “yuuta—!” his lady squeals, fingers digging in his scalp as he continues to place flutters of little kisses on her drenched underwear, tasting the sweet slick of his beloved lady. she’s addicting.

yuuta shifts on his feet, angling his face so that he can kiss her better. he uses one finger to pull the fabric aside and let the cool night air breeze against her wet slit. his lady shivers, and he is sure that she is about to say something but his tongue races her, and takes one long lick in between her folds to let her juice run down his tongue. his lips settle on the bud he had felt earlier and slowly sucks on her glistening clit.

noises that his lady makes after he does that is different. though she was panting before, she didn’t do so in a way that is so. . . exhilarating. he is rock hard now, sucking on her throbbing clit, squelching sounds that fill him with delight entering his ears easily. she is so so wet, sopped in her own slick for him.

“y-yuuta—“

he loves her. he really do. yuuta does not lower the intensity of his sucking, and instead, only grips her hips to support her body against the wall once he feels her knees trembling from either side of his body. she’s muttering all sorts of things now, telling him how he feels so good, how his tongue is making her feel so hot.

“yuuta— i’m gonna, i—“

his sweet lady cannot finish her sentence — she is cut off by her own gushing, juice flowing to make a mess on his chin as he continues eating her out, tongue poking at the sensitive button between her folds. she’s trying so hard to keep her voice down, yuuta can tell, biting the back of her hand as she throws her head on the wall. her hips convulses so hard against his face, grinding down on him.

yuuta does not stop. he keeps on lapping up her cum, obsessed with the taste of her honeyed slick as he tugs on her clit softly with his lips, silently begging her to give him more.

“s’enough—“ his lady’s words fall on deaf ears, yuuta keeps slurping up her juice until she finally pushes his head away. “e-enough, sir yuuta!”

yuuta blinks up at her — drowning in the sight of her post orgasm: sweat drenching down her face and neck, chest heaving with massive draws of breath, her hair disheveled and messy (quite unfitting for a lady), and her face somewhat debauched. he made her look like that, a sense of burning pride flares up in his chest, he’s the only one to see his lady like that.

remnants of her juice dribbles down his chin on his throat, and yuuta unconsciously scoops it up with a finger to put in his mouth, indulging himself in another taste of her sweet slick. his lady sees this and looks away, muttering about how indecent he is being. he cannot help the small smirk slipping on his lips as he wipes his face free of her wetness. he stands up, not making a move though his eyes lingers on her chest — he stares longer, more than he usually would and wonders what would his lady’s tits look like under all these article of clothings, and would she ever let him suck on them.

she drops the skirt from her hand, crossing her arms under her chest — perhaps to tease him, or to coax him even further — as her cool expression returns to her face. she still looks embarrassed, face still flushed with her hair sticking firmly on her forehead with sweat, but yuuta does not point it out.

instead, he simply offers her his hand when she says, “take me back to the mansion.” he does not mention too, of course, the way she stumbles in her steps, slightly limping, as they walk back home.

#jjk #one-shot #yuuta #knight yuuta #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

[morningsound15]

So, there's this fic that was posted today on ao3, "She cheated" by kmcgrath. It's written by a young and inexperienced writer who even faced with lots of negativity in the comments left really sweet and polite replies. And even though they absolutely shouldn't have to, they explained why their writing is not so good and why they wrote about this topic, saying "I hope you can understand that everything that’s been written is fictional, but also based on something in my life". Yes, it's a fic where Lena cheats on Kara, so not many people like that, but it's tagged accordingly, and it doesn't give people the right to harass the writer.

And then we have the comment section where a user called HippieJr5 left multiple comments stating things like "Dont want mean comments, stay away from the internet cuz even the nicest mfrs get dragged on here. Again if they didnt want mean comments they would/should disable them, simple". Obviously that's complete bullshit and an unacceptable attitude for our fanfic community.

So, I beg everyone who has ever written a fanfic or ever tried to write but felt not good enough and everyone who has ever followed a young writer, reading their fics and seeing them improve over time and not giving up on writing, I beg all of you who value ao3 and the fanfic community to go to that fic's comment section and leave the writer some encouraging words and tell HippieJr5 to go fuck themself.

hey thanks for this message! i went and checked out the story and you were right, the comments section is absolutely brutal. i didn't read it but it seems like a few keyboard warriors have got it in their heads that it is their duty to be assholes to this kid who worked pretty hard on a story, and i don't think that's cool at all.

idk what's happened to fandom recently, idk what's up with the entitlement from readers and people online who get upset when writers choose to write stories that don't align with their ideas for how characters should behave. and dumping on a new writer for taking a stab at a tricky subject, even one that is as polarizing and unpopular as infidelity, really isn't cool.

i've written some stories that people have reacted pretty negatively to. one of my most popular fics is literally about two character cheating on (and with) each other for like years. even the fics i write that people really like always get some shitty comments, from just plain rude all the way down to downright racist. luckily at this point i've got a pretty thick skin, and things like that don't bother me. but i've gotten a few incredibly rude comments over the years, and i always take the time to say basically that, hey, it's not cool to talk like this to someone, even someone you don't know online! even one vile comment can be enough to devastate a young writer. they don't bother me, i've learned to ignore them, but it can't be easy to get this kind of reaction. like every single comment on that story is super negative, and the author is being as kind as possible (way kinder than i would be given the circumstances), which i must respect the hell out of.

the internet absolutely blows sometimes, but fandom is supposed to be different, it's supposed to be about supporting people who make works for free and for fun, sharing their stuff, encouraging them.

at the end of the day, a lot of the content you consume is up to you to filter out. if you think a story is going to upset you based on the description or the tags, just don't click on it. super easy to do that.

i actively feel bad for this writer, seems like they were already pretty down on their writing and being dumped on like this isn't cool at all.

the comment section of that story is linked here. if anyone wants to go and shoot a kind word i think that would be very nice in this situation. even if the story isn't your cup of tea, being shitty to a kid who's just starting to write isn't the way to go. all it does is crush someone's voice, and that isn't cool. if i got shit for every story i published or wrote when i was in high school, i probably wouldn't still be writing fic today.

sorry for the long response this just hit something in me and wanted to speak on it. thanks for sending this

#sending some kind words would be a very good fandom thing to do friends #just if you're feeling like getting your good deed out of the way today #anonymous #asks

[lilbittymonster]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Aw fuck I can actually do these things again, woo! Tagged by @crackinglamb and I’m tagging in…..any mutuals who write, it’s been so long idk which ones are writers anymore lmao. If you do, tag me!

I know I literally just posted some Kitali snippets the other day so here’s something a little more long form.

—

“If I may, Estinien, could I have a word with you? In private,” Aymeric said. It wasn’t a question, not really.

“Of course,” he replied anyways.

Aymeric turned and led the way to his office, assuming Estinien would be following. The guard at the door nodded politely and opened the doors.

They slammed shut behind the pair, and Aymeric walked the length of the room until he stopped just short of his desk. The professional facade dropped.

“You make my job exceedingly difficult sometimes, you know that right?” he snapped as he whirled on Estinien.

“I’m not the one asking you to keep sticking your neck out for me,” Estinien countered evenly.

“I wouldn’t have to if y-” Aymeric stopped himself short and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. “Tell me what happened, Estinien. The truth, if you will.”

Estinien stood quietly, arms still folded, for several seconds. Long enough that Aymeric was losing patience.

“Estinien-” he began.

“The Eye awoke to another.”

Aymeric blinked. “What do you mean, another? There’s only ever been one Azure Dragoon at a time-”

“I know,” Estinien cut him off. “I’m just as surprised. If not more so.” His arms were still folded tightly in on himself, his body a coiled spring.

“Who, if I may ask?”

Estinien sighed. “Alberic has a new apprentice, I guess. Some Au Ra woman was with him, and she came looking for me, and when I confronted her I felt the Eye’s power surge forth and she must’ve felt something too, from her reaction. I-I don’t know how that’s possible–” his posture grew more and more agitated as he spoke– “I don’t know what’s so special about her but….If Alberic sees something worth training her for, then-” He began to pace the width of the room. Aymeric sat back on his desk and watched, waiting.

“I tried explaining to them what I was trying to accomplish, but they both dismissed me out of hand. I had no choice but to fight her-”

“I feel as though you did have a choice,” Aymeric commented drily.

“-and I was so close, Aymeric,” Estinien continued as though Aymeric hadn’t spoken, “I almost had her, and then. And then I wasn’t looking at a woman anymore, I was looking at Haldrath himself, in all his might.”

Estinien reached up and removed his helm, long silver hair tumbling from its haphazard bun over his shoulder. “If the Eye has seen fit to choose another, am I no longer worthy of the title Azure Dragoon?” he asked quietly, gazing at his own distorted reflection in the visor.

Aymeric regarded his friend carefully. “It would seem that you’re having a crisis of faith, as it were,” he said, not unkindly. “I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

Estinien raised his gaze to meet Aymeric’s, and for one of the few times in the years he’d known him, Aymeric saw a shadow of doubt.

“Or, perhaps, you’re just not used to sharing,” Aymeric continued. That got a snort out of the dragoon, at least.

“I wouldn’t wish this burden on anyone, let alone a stranger who has no idea what she’s gotten into,” Estinien retorted.

“Well, that doesn’t seem up to you, does it?”

Estinien didn’t have a response.

“Will you welcome this Au Ra as a fellow dragoon?”

“I don’t know. It remains to be seen whether or not she’d even be accepted into the city, let alone properly trained.”

“Then in the meantime, perhaps reflecting on the past few weeks would be a good use of your forced respite,” Aymeric said lightly. “And for the Fury’s sake, don’t try to sneak out again. I will let my men shoot you this time.”

Estinien just snorted again. “Of course, Lord Commander. Can’t let the public think you’re playing favourites.” He twisted his hair back up, donned his helm again, and dropped into an almost overexaggerated bow. “A pleasure as always, my lord.”

“Dismissed, Ser Estinien,” Aymeric shot back, the edges of a begrudging smile tugging at his lips

#ffxiv #ff14 #my writing #final fantasy xiv #dragoon spoilers #I think they should show Aymeric and Estinien actually being friends more instead of just saying it #so uuhhh I wrote this :) #tagged

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

#i wonder what your thoughts on diaspora in hetalia are#cause its a pretty interesting topic (the post in question)

@urmomsstuntdouble a collection of things that I think about on a semi-regular basis below the cut (also thank you for the tags!)

Disclaimer: I think this turned into more of a discussion of immigration and immigrants, but I hope this strikes your fancy anyways 😅. Also this got SO LONG and I explained quite a bit of history (because idk whether anyone knows much about this), so the key thoughts will be bolded!

My thoughts are kinda complicated about this tbh; it’s weird, because if China really did exist as a personification in real life, we’d probably both be judging each other, just for different reasons 😅.

General Hetalia Cases

I think when discussing immigrants/diaspora, you have to think about why different immigrants left. @cupofkey kinda discussed that a while ago (if anyone hasn’t seen this superb post, GO READ IT NOW) about the Vietnamese diaspora, and I think there’s some of that in every country. How do the immigrants feel about the home country? Why did they leave: because of hard times, poverty? Political instability/revolution/war? Opportunities overseas? Are they doing well in their new home, or still struggling? Does their new country treat them like foreigners or outcasts, unworthy of even arriving, or doing anything besides menial labor, or have they been welcomed (rather unlikely)? Do they hate their home country (politically), or miss them? Would they ever go back, not just to visit family or the place of their birth, but to return permanently?

I think on the whole, hetalia nations would still maintain a connection to their immigrants, especially since most are still in touch with their culture, although they’ve crossed borders or changed nationalities. (However, the angst of not being as in touch with your culture as you think you should is so real; would our home countries be disappointed? Or do they sympathize, somehow?) In the end, we’re all the same that way. Plus, the alternative thought of them just disowning immigrants feels weird; I don’t even know how that would be possible. But I think that connection gets complicated by the reason people left, and their feelings for their place of origin; I’ll be using APH China and Chinese Americans as an example to discuss this hksdgsdf (sorry I don’t want to do more research than necessary and I have Thoughts about this)

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER that immigration/diaspora discussions are almost always case by case and will vary greatly based on things like country of origin/race/ethnicity, country immigrated to, initial socioeconomic status, time period, etc. And even among diaspora, people can and will have vastly different experiences, and it’s not good to generalize. These are just some thoughts with one example.**

1. Waves of Immigration 

Depending on when people arrive, they’ve got different push/pull factors drawing them to a country and it also factors into how the nation feels about them and vice versa... Chinese immigration to the US has mostly two major waves (you could also say there were 3, counting the post-WWII/Communist China wave, but I won’t talk about that): one in the mid 1800s and the other after the 1970s/1980s into modern day; the gap is because the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882) that banned most immigration from China wasn’t repealed until 1943 (because of Japan’s attack on the US in WWII, the US needed China as an ally).

IMMIGRATION WAVE 1: MID 1800s

These immigrants were mostly from southern China (Canton area), and they came to the US because of hard times (Opium Wars + political instability because of things like the Taiping Rebellion) and economic opportunity in the West (eg. Gold Rush (San Francisco is literally “Old Gold Mountain” in Chinese today) + industrialization, railroads, expansion etc.). There was Much Discrimination against those immigrants, and many worked as hard laborers in a variety of occupations (on railroads, gold mine, farms (in the South esp), laundry businesses; there were merchants as well, but they were the minority); many were looking to get some money that they could send back to their families in China and planned to return, but over time, they settled down and stayed. I think for those immigrants, Yao would definitely be understanding, even if he might not be empathetic. After all, he’s not thriving at that time either, and although he thinks Alfred is inferior to him (in many ways), he understands why people would be drawn by economic promise and quick wealth, even if it might not be the best strategy for getting rich. It’s not like staying in China would be better lmao. However, I don’t think he would approve (?) how many of his immigrants stayed in the US when most viewed it as a temporary move; I think Yao is very surprised by how so many of them persisted to carve out a home there, despite the discrimination and limited opportunities. Perhaps he admires their resilience, the creation of Chinatowns and community and how they still come to a country that doesn’t even let them in (see the San Francisco Fire of 1906 and the boon for paper sons), but still wishes they would come back, however unlikely that hope is. Personally, Yao would never be able to stay in Alfred’s country, the beautiful country, if Alfred’s hypocrisy prevented his experience, his immigrant’s experience, from being anything close to beautiful. (You were founded by immigrants and foreigners, but now you spurn them: the poor sojourners who continue to flee to your shores, and refuse them respite from the disasters at home.) And anyways, Alfred is just the next scrappy young upstart, barely 70 years old but with a swagger like he rules the world; how could he have something over himself, the Middle Kingdom, who has stood the test of time? (Admittedly, he’s doing nowhere as well as Alfred—even he can see that, despite his pride, and despite the haze of opium in his brain. Leaving is the logical, objectively sound choice. Still, his pride hurts vaguely when he thinks how his immigrants keep choosing a country that keeps rejecting them, over and over again, instead of himself. But it is no matter. The injury to his ego is inconsequential and easily brushed aside; for they are still his people, and they deserve a good life, wherever they are. His distaste for Alfred flares up again: Arthur’s bastard child, who takes advantage of his trade (see the Open Door Notes, 1899-1900), but refuses his people.)

if anyone wants more context or is interested in the history I mentioned, I highly recommend this pdf (from the book A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki)

IMMIGRATION FROM 1949 TO 1980: according to Wikipedia, there was very little immigration from mainland China during this period due to the Cold War and China becoming Communist; most of the immigration was from Taiwan/ROC but counted in the quota for China. Since there’s a separate Hetalia personification for TWN, I’m not going to go over that. However, there were also many people from Mainland China who escaped to Hong Kong, still a British colony, during that period (I hope it’s clear why, but if anyone asks I’ll put it in a separate post); some stayed there, while others emigrated to the US; both trips were for more freedoms and a better life etc because China was really really messed up for a bit (also keep in mind the people emigrating all had the means to and were at least middle class, usually somewhat educated, etc.). I will not be talking about that group either because I don’t think it’s my place to, but please know they exist as well.

IMMIGRANT WAVE 2: 1980s ONWARD

A lot of people came from mainland China for education; there was also an. exodus of intellectuals following 1989 (which I Will Not get into). Many of these people sought job opportunities, like those that rapidly opened up in the computer industry, there are many students who come here to study abroad, who take SATs and TOEFLs to get into good US colleges or to conduct graduate research and get PhDs; some stay, others have gone back to like, advance China’s development (this sentiment of getting good students to go abroad and then go back to China to use their talents for Patriotic Purposes isn’t a new thing, stretches back to like the late 1800s). I don’t really have much to say about this group besides what’s below ↓. 

2. Immigrant Thoughts On Their Home Country

more complicated, because it varies by generation and time period and probably 203943 other things. Mainlanders that came over starting in the 1990s till now have relatively positive feelings towards China (imo, extrapolating from my life experiences); I think part of that is also because most* of these immigrants aren’t really escaping from something? They’re coming for an education/job opportunities (students studying abroad in the US (留学生 or liuxuesheng) for graduate school or university come to mind as one example), and they’re still very much connected to China politically and culturally, sometimes* more so than to the US. For these immigrants, I think Yao doesn’t worry too much about them? They’re pretty successful* overall*, and discrimination, although still A Large Problem™, isn’t the same from stuff that Yao (or his immigrants) remember from, say the mid 1800s (see above), or even during the paranoia about Communists after WWII and the subsequent Chinese Confession Program that made many people really scared of being deported. (Red China made Chinese Americans a target of the Communist panic, and the confession program was instated in order to make sure Communist spies couldn’t infiltrate the US. Those who immigrated illegally could confess that and gain citizenship; however you also had to weed out everyone you knew who also immigrated illegally.) I think Yao would see them as an extension of himself in a different land; they’re very much still part of him, and he gives them his well wishes.

However, I think that immigrants born in the US in modern day at least (1990s onwards) are definitely more ambivalent about China’s legacy + modern day Issues™, as much as we are connected via culture and heritage. Not quite sure how Yao would feel about that, because I’m not quite sure how much Yao is the state and how much he represents the people. However, I think there would be some mutual unease; does he see this as betrayal of some kind? Perhaps he doesn’t blame us for feeling as we do? Maybe he wonders what we feel about him; maybe he doesn’t want to know. Maybe he chooses the easier route: to focus on the bonds between him and his huayi instead of the grievances, and leave the rest unsaid. 

Additionally with first gen immigrants, there’s the conflicting feeling of being stuck between two worlds and value systems that oppose each other in many respects. Also there’s sometimes a feeling of not-quite-being-in-touch-with-your-culture (in other diaspora as well, ofc. here it’s often exemplified by forgetting or not knowing how to read and write Chinese proficiently, among other things 🙃); idk. does Yao see that as a bit of a disappointment? Would he wish us to try harder? Does he view it as inevitable, for those raised in the US; the environment is too different, and perhaps he won’t blame us for those differences, or shortcomings. Does Yao know, or care, about the racism? What about his immigrants who try to assimilate completely into American culture, who try to erase the Chinese part of their identity? Those that have tried it, but regretted it? Are they still his, when they have tried rejecting their connection to him, choosing to drop the “Chinese” from Chinese American? Does he consider racism when thinking about them? What about international adoptees? Does he claim them, when some have not been raised in a culturally Chinese environment, and when it’s still a sensitive subject on both sides of the ocean? I don’t have answers to many of these questions.

There are also immigrants who fled China because of war or persecution or upheaval, (one example is with regards to the Cultural Revolution), but I don’t feel qualified to discuss it here, and I don’t want to take it lightly.

But, despite everything I’ve discussed above, I’d like to think that however an immigrant feels about their home country or however long they’ve been there, all nation personifications would still wish them a better life (even Yao). I mean, it’s not always easy being an immigrant/part of a diaspora (especially when race becomes a factor). I really don’t think any of the hetalia characters would say “look at your struggles. What a mistake it was to immigrate somewhere where you still face so many challenges, although they might be different from the ones back home”. that’s just No. Also, I think that when you disregard sentimentality and their inherent connection to the people, countries would still be able to sympathize with people trying to strive for better, you know? People immigrate for a better life, whether it’s because it was getting rough when they left or because other places had more potential, and like. although nation-people can’t leave their own country, I think they understand the people who do, because it’s a chance to make a new life, and it would be unkind, counterproductive, limiting, to prevent someone from taking that opportunity if it came. And their children, and grandchildren; they are still connected to their origins even in a new country, by blood if nothing else, and nations are people too; they must have some sentimentality for their people born in a different land. I’d like to think that if Yao met a Chinese American kid running around San Francisco’s Chinatown, or bumped into an ABC high schooler in a well to do Massachusetts suburb, he’d stop and nod and maybe say hello, and wish them luck, wherever they go in the future. After all, they are the products of his immigrant’s hopes and dreams, and they are his too, as much as they live in Alfred’s land.

* (asterisks): this is a) from my experience and research; not everyone will have the same experiences! please keep this in mind and don’t generalize a very vast group of people. :)

Idk if that was too sentimental or rambly or something, but yeah, those are some of the things I consider when I think about nations and their diasporas. If you made it down here, thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate it. Also I hope I got all my facts correct, but if anyone spots anything incorrect, especially regarding the post 1980s immigration wave, please tell me! Tried doing my research but there are still a few things I’m unsure about rip. 

This might be deleted tomorrow because I’m feeling weird about it, but feel free to reblog! I’d also very much love some feedback too if any of y’all are feeling up to it

#i was thinking about a lot of this when writing the zine fic so this post is partially an extension of that #hws china #aph china #musings #hetalia #nation lore #hws #aph #aph china headcanons #hetalia worldbuilding #headcanon musings #hetalia headcanons #I GUESS??

[dreamties]

Slashers W/ a Punk S/O

T/W- q*eer is used a few times- in a positive, self affirming kind of way. But I can add other trigger warnings if needed. :)

A/n- Literally no one asked for this, but I wanted to make more HCs like the soft pastel one...so I just went wild and made them. 

I included a little bit of punk culture into this as well, because it’s not just about the fashion, but since there’s such a vast variety within punk culture I mostly stuck with my experiences in the community, and some bits and pieces from documentaries(mostly live footage from “The Decline of Western Civilization”).

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Norman Bates, Michael Myers

Will make one(s) for Brahms, Amanda, Helen or Daniel if asked

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

so early 90s, the Riot Grrrl movement emerges

bands like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, Heavens to Betsy or Sleater-Kinney

it’s a very female-powered oriented movement, but I notice that a lot of minorities tend to be drawn to this music and community (LGBT folks, people of color, etc).

both boys, and yourself, being outside of the norm and all (polyamorous relationship, gay/bi) are sort of drawn to it!

and sure there’s a lot of really great queercore/homocore bands, and there’s probably a good LGBT+ punk scene out there somewhere, but in a little town like Woodsboro? Hell no. Sticking with this fem punk movement, while again mostly a space for women in music- it’s the most accepted the three of you have felt outside of you’re relationship. 

you’ve always been pretty into the music, stuff like Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, or the short-lived Germs- but it wasn’t until you stumbled upon Riot Grrrl that you really got into it. 

the music, making zines about local-ish political issues(probably not so much Woodsboro stuff, more Cali in general and neighboring towns) and a few ones with queer themes and hand-drawn illustrations of your partners, and DIYing all your clothes

since you’re so experienced with DIYing your clothes and sewing on patches, you’ve helped repair the Ghostface costumes on numerous occasions. they kind of adore this(Stu is the only one that will- and does, frequently- admit that)

Let’s face it, the three of you do everything together- but you especially enjoy when Stu tags along for thrift dates. 

he’s the more fashionable one, and he makes the whole experience more enjoyable- cracking jokes and just being his all-around goofy self.

Woodsboro is a very little town, so they don’t have much...but they do have a few small stores- usually you’ll make a whole day/date out of it though. driving to the next town or so over, since they have more stores and a better selection, and spending hours looking for cheap, old t-shirts, belts, clothes with funky patterns. heading out for pizza after.

Billy’s more likely to get into the music and everything with you(he’s kinda,, angsty, no offense to him)- will definitely go to shows with you.

just- imagine Billy in ripped jeans. and he’d have like one or two patches sewn on to it- one of them is your all time favorite band, and the other is a band that he found on his own time, and actually really enjoyed.

Stu is dragged along with you guys, you can’t just leave him at home- he’s gonna feel left out and sad. :(

He’s mostly there to keep y’all company- he really likes the energy of the shows though!

the two of them are such a chaotic duo though, so much so that you have definitely been kicked out or banned from a few venues. all for varying reasons. good grief these men can not be tamed.

The Lost Boys

as we all know, these vampires are total punks. so they’re gonna appreciate having a s/o who’s also into that whole scene.

How you meet:

you’re a baby punk, and it’s your first show ever, and you look so nervous. you’re dressed up in pretty plain clothes, a single homemade patch for your favorite band barely hanging to your jacket side(you were mid-way sewing it, when you realized you were gonna be late if you didn’t leave asap).

it’s a few local bands, ones you’d never really heard of really. you look anxious. but when they start playing? you look so unapologetically yourself, you’re so in the moment dancing- it’s completely mesmerizing to the boys. the music isn’t even that good, but you seem to be having the time of your life.

they greet you after the show, and you’re a tiny bit flustered- cause gosh, heck, they saw you. dancing. so embarrassing. 

David is the one that introduces himself and the group, and initiates conversation. Dwayne’s a pretty quiet guy, so he just listens to what you have to say. 

Marko’s pretty excited about you, and initiates in some small conversation, he may have complimented your little patch(Marko- patch jacket KING, complimenting your jacket?? more likely than you’d think) 

and oh, oh- Paul is out there being a total chatty-cathy, and is absolutely bombarding you with questions. like, okay, Paul is pretty talkative, but the other vamps are a little worried that he’s scared you off. and you had seemed so cool :(

you end up pretty engaged in your convo with Paul though, even if all the attention is overwhelming. He ends up snagging a date for the five of you the following week.

once you start hanging out/dating:

y’all just hit it off so well those first few days. they all love how sweet & shy you are- but also how much of a badass punk babe you are.

Marko helps make your patch jacket(collecting ones for bands you enjoy, how to make your own, sewing them on, etc). you probably could have done it w/out his help, but my gosh- you weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Marko gets really soft around you sometimes, since he doesn’t really do this activity with anyone else, it’s saved for you. 🥺🥺

Dwayne likes listening to you talking about the local scene(outside of the shows you go to- mostly about stuff he can’t attend, protests and meetings during the daylight.)

all of them(especially David) are very protective of you. I mean, generally. but also when you go to shows. they let you do whatever the heck you’re gonna do, but the mere second that someone even thinks about starting shit w/ you?? well, y’know. those vampire instincts kick in.

the four of them obviously share a lot of similar tastes in music- but they all have different favorite bands, & fave parts of the community. which, they can’t even fully participate in,, but it’s okay.

they, individually, introduce their favorite bands to you. and they get it in their head that oh, they said they liked it. they must like it as much as I do. and awkwardly coming out to the four of them, as they argue about your favorite band, “Well, actually- this *insert band they’ve never heard of or barely listen to* is my favorite.” and their just kinda like, oh, okay. please tell us more about them. 

so it’s sorta like,, you’ve been learning all this cool knowledge from them, now you get to share cool knowledge with them.

idk. I think it’s cute. 💕

Norman Bates

so first off- let’s just pretend Psycho was in at least the 70s/80s for a moment. because realistically- the punk subculture didn’t really exist back then.

baby boy is absolutely fascinated by the way you dress (mother is less thrilled though)

imagine your jacket is getting a bit weathered, and needs some repairs- so he helps you to sew edges closed, and make sure the patches aren’t on too loose, etc

he enjoys hearing your stories of all the past shows you’ve gone to. you always get so excited about them, and he finds that so endearing. But he pretty much leaves the actual punk scene to you because of these stories.

he was already worried from the stories, and made sure you were well prepared for any trouble every time you left for a show.

but one time, you were able to get him to join you. never again though. he was so nervous!

the music was too loud! and he could hardly understand what they were saying- it was so confusing!

you stayed with him most of the night, standing near the back, holding his hand. he’d gently bob his head to the music occasionally. 

but you accidentally found yourself swept into the crowd, but you looked so blissed-out in the moment, that he figured it would be okay for you to dance* over there for a little bit...right?  

*Norman is still unsure if you’d even call that dancing.

Thankfully, nothing bad happened in the mosh pit.

you gotta give him lots of attention and reassurance afterwards though- you almost scared Norman half to death D:

He’s happy enough helping you out and listening to you though- and that’s okay for you, too. you still love each other lots, even if this particular interest doesn’t overlap.

Michael Myers

he thinks you’re outfits are pretty interesting. 

he’s a little worried at first, when you start experimenting with putting things like safety pins in your ears. cause like- that’s not supposed to be in your ear, Y/n, what the fuck

if you make zines at all, Michael really enjoys watching you make the illustrations for them(not that he’ll admit to it though), and helps to find newspaper and magazine clippings to incorporate into the spreads.

you always show michael the final booklet before distributing it

he doesn’t talk a lot, so he doesn’t ask questions- but he often does the little head tilt once you give it to him. since he’s not very privy to current events, and a lot of your zines are political, you spend a lot of time explaining them in depth.

he has no use for any of this knowledge, but he listens on, intently.

Important note:

dear god do not bring this man to concerts and local shows with you.

it is a nightmare, to say the least

Michael is sort of,, emotionless sometimes, doesn’t really care for people at all, and if he does? definitely not in the same way most people do. 

so imagine combining that part of michael, the fact that he’s also a giant stabby man, with super loud, energetic- almost aggressive- sounding music and a bunch of strangers that aren’t respecting any personal boundaries. 

you need to keep him at the back of the venue- lest your local scene may go missing.

#billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy x reader x stu #slasher x s/o #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #michael myers x reader #scream #poly!ghostface x reader #halloween 1978 #halloween #psycho #norman bates x reader #the lost boys david #the lost boys david x reader #the lost boys dwayne x reader #the lost boys paul x reader #the lost boys marko x reader #marko x reader #david x reader #dwayne x reader #paul x reader #slasher movies #slashers #slasher #slasher headcanons #headcanons

[daemour]

GOT7 Hogwarts Headcanons

I had this thought while reading Harry Potter and now its accidentally a whole universe, If u want to hear more about these idiots' shenanigans at Hogwarts lmk :sanapray:

also idk how to format this so I'm sorry. italicised is like a third indent just so u know

Word Count: 2173

Warnings: None

-

Mark Tuan

7th year Hufflepuff. No question about it.

He doesn’t mind the stigma around his house because boi’s got a fiery temper, he single-handedly undoes the stereotype.

He spends one-third of his free time in the dorms, another third out by the lake, and another third in the kitchens.

It’s evenly split, and nothing can change it. (Except maybe a handsome Gryffindor who laughs with a wide mouth and has the cutest bunny smile)

Jack of all trades, master of like 4.

He gets ‘A’s and sometimes ‘P’s on his assignments but during exams and times it matters, he’ll get ‘E’s and ‘O’s.

His favourite subjects are Muggle Studies (because it’s an easy class for a muggle), Magical Theory (a surprise to everyone who knows him), Charms, and Transfiguration.

The teachers don’t usually call on him and he likes to sleep in class. It annoys some students that it seems he doesn’t do shit but still gets good grades.

He didn’t want to go to Hogwarts at first—his family had moved to London when he was ten and he wanted to go to Ilvermorny—but his mum had convinced him to give it a try.

He stayed there for the rest of his school years, even when his family moved back and gave him the option to transfer.

He was asked to be Head Boy but he was like “hell no too much responsibility”.

He’s such a fucking Quidditch lover lmao, closeted jock but it’s a not very well-hidden secret. Could rival Jackson in his love for the sport.

He plays Seeker on the Hufflepuff team and once was Captain but resigned. Particularly likes doing loops around Bludgers.

Mark was going to aim to play professionally but after a bad injury decided he would just play for fun and also resigned from the Team Captain position.

Wants to be a Curse-Breaker but hates Arithmancy. Powers through the subject anyway and passes with good grades.

Don’t tell anyone but Jinyoung tutored him endlessly for the final.

As soon as he graduated he moved back to America to be with his family.

Jaebeom

7th year Ravenclaw Head Boy, half-blood.

His mum’s a witch, his dad’s a muggle. Bit of a nasty shock when he found out. (im sorry)

He likes to go up (read: sneak up under the pretence of Head Boy duties) to the Astronomy Tower in his free time for fun, even if he loathes the subject. The view is best there.

He takes way too many subjects and ends up dropping, like, half of them after midterms because he’s an overachiever.

Consistently gets ‘E’s and ‘O’s though, which is why professors don’t mind when he drops their classes.

Jaebeom especially likes Care of Magical Creatures, and Professor Neville is his favourite professor

He raises his hand all the time, even if he doesn’t know the answer because he just likes to seem cool and smart.

Though he’s Head Boy, he can be a little quick to anger. Since he met Youngjae, he’s mellowed out but sometimes Jaebeom can flare up. It’s why Mark was the first pick.

Jaebeom doesn’t really like Quidditch but will go to games to cheer on his best friends.

He used to be a beater but he fell off his broom and is salty.

He wants to be a professor (and Head of House but don’t tell Professor Flitwick)

When he graduated he cried

Jackson

6th year Gryffindor half-blood

Honestly, he thought he was a squib until he was watching rugby and didn’t break a single bone falling off the bleachers accidentally.

His parents celebrated by buying him a Wiggentree

He named his tree Bob

Jackson is never found in one place for more than 30 minutes at a time. He wanders a lot. It causes people looking for him neverending grief.

Sometimes he’ll drag Mark along. Mark always complains but most everyone knows he doesn’t actually mind. Jackson remains oblivious.

BamBam and Yugyeom tag along a lot more often, and when they do teachers who encounter them will probably have a headache for the rest of the day.

Jackson excels in DADA. It’s his favourite subject as well, Herbology right under it. But he doesn’t like the current teacher, he had heard stories about the late Professor Lupin and just really wished Lupin was his professor.

Jinyoung has a theory it’s also because Jackson just loves wolves and Professor Wolf McWolfy Werewolf is a dream for Jackson. Jinyoung suffered from pink hair that day.

Jackson gets pretty good grades but sometimes he’ll get a ‘P’ or a ‘D’. He doesn’t mind it much, just works a bit harder next time. The only time he’s studied through an all-nighter was the time he almost failed DADA.

He was in the wizarding school for China but transferred to Hogwarts because of the Quidditch opportunities in London.

Speaking of Quidditch, Jackson lives and breathes the sport. He’s a jock. The jockiest jock of all. Mark finds it endearing.

Jackson actually is Captain and Chaser for the Gryffindor team. He has a self-proclaimed rivalry with the Slytherin Chaser but they actually go to Hogsmeade together a lot. Mark is not Jealous™

Jackson would 10/10 be an Auror….if his Potions grades didn’t suck ass. He just gets overeager adding the ingredients. Instead, he just vies to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement or as a Herbologist.

He once wrote to Mr Harry Potter and asked if he had to take potions to be an Auror. Harry replied very kindly but said that he should talk to Jackson’s Potions professor.

When he graduated he kissed Mark who visited to see his best friend graduate. Mark turned so red he almost cried.

Definitely followed Mark to America and became a Herbologist so that he could be with Mark wherever the older went.

Harry sent a very generous, anonymous wedding gift of a large box of chocolate frogs. Mark knows who it was but doesn’t tell Jackson in case he would explode on the spot.

I’m sorry this wasn’t supposed to be a Markson headcanon

Jinyoung

6th Year Ravenclaw Prefect pureblood

Takes pride in his pureblood status but tries not to follow traditionalists’ values. Sometimes Jaebeom has to remind him when Jinyoung is crabby or sleepy.

No one really takes it to heart, though. Jinyoung means well.

Jinyoung is always found in the library or in the common room. He’s also been known to just talk to the knocker and Yugyeom will always make fun of him for it.

Once he made fun of Yugyeom back but accidentally prodded too meanly. Yugyeom cried and Jinyoung forever feels bad. Yugyeom forgot about the incident

Jinyoung loves History of Magic. Might be one of the only students in history who actually do.

People always ask him if they can borrow his notes. He only lets his 6 other friends.

Consistently gets ‘O’s. Rumoured to be the next Head Boy when Jaebeom graduates.

He doesn’t partake in most extracurriculars, and he would’ve avoided Quidditch like the plague if Jaebeom didn’t drag him along to matches once in a while.

He does love playing Wizarding Chess and wins every tournament. He let Yugyeom win just once when he was crying about exams. BamBam knows and hilariously doesn’t tell anyone. Yugyeom brags.

Jinyoung wanted to be Minister of Magic but doesn’t feel like getting into politics. He now wants to be a wizarding professor.

Once, Jinyoung went to Beauxbatons for an exchange program. He fell in love with the school and hopes to teach there.

Once he graduated, Jinyoung immediately started applying for jobs. BamBam called him a boring person. BamBam can’t seem to find his favourite pair of earrings.

Youngjae

Youngjae is a 5th year half-blood Slytherin. I do not accept submissions.

He was worried about being sorted into Slytherin at first because he was scared the dungeons would be cold. The Head Boy assured him the dungeons had a warming charm.

The dungeons did not have a warming charm, but Jaebeom used his status and convinced the Head of House to add one before Youngjae went down for the first time.

Youngjae is in the kitchens like half the time. The other half, he’s talking to Jaebeom about whatever interested him that day.

Jaebeom loves that time. Once, when Youngjae was in the Infirmary for a bit, Jaebeom visited him to tell Youngjae about HIS favourite parts of the day.

Youngjae loves Charms best but struggles in the subject. He actually performs best in Divination. Sad, he hates heights so going to Divination class is a nightmare.

Does not want to do any job with Divination because he thinks it’s a joke. Doesn’t say that to anyone though, because he doesn’t think it’s very nice.

Youngjae is perfectly happy with an ‘A’ in most subjects, though he does get ‘E’s a lot. Especially because the teachers find him very gifted even if he doesn’t really try.

Youngjae is perfectly content to watch Quidditch. He once tried commenting on it but he kept mixing up the rules. No one had the heart to tell him but he knew.

When he was younger, he wanted to be an Auror but he didn't quite like DADA. Working at St. Mungos is now his dream.

Youngjae almost slept through graduation, BamBam had to fetch him thirty minutes before his name was called.

BamBam

4th year Slytherin muggle

Once he found out he could do magic he immediately wanted to know if he could make himself taller.

BamBam likes to spend time by the lake. He also likes to practice flying at the Quidditch pitch with Yugyeom cheering him on but he keeps falling off.

After a nasty fracture to his wrist, Yugyeom insists he doesn’t fly higher than 5 feet off the ground. The taller one will also constantly spot him.

BamBam pretends to be annoyed but secretly finds it cute.

For a while, BamBam used to hang out with Jackson because he had a crush on the 6th year boy, but when he found out Jackson named his Wiggentree Bob he changed his mind.

Charms is what BamBam loves and excels at. He could easily be one of the best wizards at it…

...that is if he studied harder. For someone in the House of “ambition” this boy practically kicked it out the window.

Okay, he does study, but not when he deems it unnecessary.

Still gets ‘O’s on it. Never anything under that. ‘E’s and ‘A’s for everything else. He used to get ‘P’s often but after his mum had a parent-teacher conference BamBam tried harder.

BamBam would love to play Quidditch.

Except he sucks.

He’s the commentator instead.

He wants a career in wandmaking OR to be a radio host. Don’t tell anyone but he somehow turned out to be an Unspeakable. Jinyoung finds that highly amusing.

When he graduated he fell into the Lake

Yugyeom

4th year Hufflepuff pureblood

Doesn’t understand anything about being a muggle but tries his best. BamBam always makes fun of him.

Yugyeom just goes wherever BamBam or Jinyung goes. Once he fell asleep in the Library when sitting with Jinyoung and almost got detention for being late to class. Jinyoung saved his ass.

Jinyoung actually took the blame and the detention, but didn’t tell Yugyeom.

Yugyeom found out anyway and felt really bad. (BamBam told him as an avid supporter and vice president of the JinGyeom club) (Jackson is the president)

Yugyeom is average in all of his classes. He passes in most of them, yes, but struggles in others.

Jinyoung tutors him, but Yugyeom falls asleep a lot. Jinyoung hasn’t given up.

Yugyeom’s best subject is surprisingly Astronomy, always scraping an ‘E’ if he doesn’t study. Yugyeom says it’s because he used to go on his house’s roof to look at the stars.

His worst subject is definitely Transfiguration. He’s not that bad at History of Magic because his parents drilled Magical history into his brain when he was younger, as they take pride in their wizarding history.

He once had to get remedial sessions with the professor. That’s what Jinyoung had teased him mercilessly about until he cried.

Yugyeom is the youngest Quidditch Team Captain during 4th year. He loves the sport just as much as Jackson and Mark, though he wouldn’t pursue it professionally ever.

He plays Chaser and can stand in for Seeker. He was initially terrified of heights but after flying on a broomstick for the first time and Mark taught him how to do a flip, Yugyeom fell in love.

Jinyoung finds it really cool.

This is turning into a JinGyeom headcanon too im really sorry

Yugyeom wants to just travel the world. Honestly, he would be happy to just have a family and stay at home because he doesn’t know what he would want to do when he grows up.

He ends up being an astronomer

When Yugyeom graduates he falls asleep during the ceremony. BamBam had to wake him up too.

#got7writerscollective #got7 #igot7 #got7 au #harry potter #harry potter au #got7 mark #got7 jaebeom #got7 jinyoung #got7 jackson #got7 youngjae #got7 bambam #go7 yugyeom #mark tuan #jaebeom #got7 jb #jinyoung #jackson wang #youngjae #bambam #yugyeom #what do i tag this #got7 headcanon