#Same principles as to why it was turned off for most of last year i was NOT listening to russia vs ukraine discourse

[unibrowzz]

Just gonna... just gonna disable anon again.

[kimchikrust]

She Rocks the Ball 1.0 an addition to Act on Heavenly Principles (x katsuki)

“Another year, another red carpet,” Denki breathes, glancing out the tinted windows. There are photographers, interviewers, and dedicated fans lining the entrance to the venue, waiting in anticipation for their celebrity heroes to appear.

Katsuki gets his grumbling out in the car before he plans on going silent for the rest of the night. It’s their fourth annual Hero’s Ball since graduating high school and earning their license, and it’s turned into a night Katsuki dreads every year. It was an evening of small talk, dreadful music, and small portions, but at least he had his friends. 

Katsuki and his friends were in the top hero class in high school. They were big fish in a small pond then, but now, there were other, bigger fish in an ocean of talented heroes. It only meant more stepping stones for Katsuki as he climbed the ranks. But that was the sole reason he grit his teeth and attended the ball: the new rankings announced for the year. His spot in the top ten solidified for another year until he can rise higher. 

“Alright, you animals,” Eijirou announces at the front of the limo. “They’re almost ready for us.”

Katsuki and his friends attended the same as they did the year before and the year before that. Five heroes together, an unofficial team often seen together by the public, climbing out of the back of a limo like a clown car. 

“Big smile, hothead,” Mina antagonizes Katsuki with a grin. She’s dressed beautifully in a sponsored gown and glittering hair accessory for the event. “Gonna need a babysitter?”

“Fuck off, Shido,” he mumbles with no real heat, adjusting his collar for the twentieth time. 

It was Katsuki’s turn to escort Mina into the event. The past few years, the other fellas in their group of friends walked with her. It started when Eijirou wanted to escort her to the first ball as friends. The following year, Denki wanted a turn. Last year, Sero walked her in, and Mina’s been pleading with Katsuki to take her since. 

Soon enough, the door popped open, and Eijirou climbed out first. Sero and Denki followed suit, and Katsuki went after them. Like a gentleman, he faced Mina and took her hand as she stepped out in heels, and he could hear the roar of approval from the fans behind him. 

Lights flashed and blinded him as he guided Mina’s hand to rest on his arm while walking her up the carpet. Katsuki wasn’t smiling; he tried his hardest not to grimace at the flashing assault. But Mina was smiling enough for the both of them, satisfied to walk with her friend into the event. 

“This is so much fun,” Mina gushed, hugging Katsuki’s arm tight, which he allowed on the premise that she was his friend. No one else would have dared, especially with the constipated expression he had no control over. 

“How are you two this evening?” An interviewer stopped Mina to ask, expertly avoiding any shutdown from Katsuki. 

“So far, so good,” Mina jokes, glancing up with bright eyes at Katsuki’s stoicism. She was completely unfazed by his attitude, and that’s precisely why he had no problem escorting her. 

“Escorted by the final member of the Bakusquad,” the interview sets up with buttered enthusiasm. “What will you do next year?”

“Well, we’ll get to it when we get to it,” Mina brushes off through clenched teeth. As the only woman in their close group, she often complained the most about the bullshit questions the news always had for her. 

The interviewer nervously faces Katsuki, forced to look up from under his towering figure. 

“What about you, Dynamight? Any theories on the rankings this time around?” 

Mina digs her nails into Katsuki’s arm, and he holds back any reaction to it. The petty brat Mina is, taking out her frustration on her friend than the asshole interviewer. 

“I don’t, but Pinky does,” Katsuki grits out politely enough. “She’s been yapping our ears off lately on what she thinks each of our ranks will be.”

“Yes! I had to look up a few charts for their stats online,” Mina admits sheepishly, preparing herself for a rant on the rankings for this year. As attractive and feminine as Mina was to the public, she was just as obsessed with the rankings as he and the guys. 

Katsuki tunes out what he’s heard from Mina three times over at this point and briefly scans over the entrance to the venue. Izuku and Ochako are there as a couple, occupied by the photographers and giggling quietly between each other. Eijirou and Sero are taking interviews together while Denki interacts with fans. 

Other former classmates are there, too; Shoto Todoroki attended with his older brother, but Katsuki can’t remember the frost user's name. The rest are nameless idiots he couldn’t remember if he’d met before. 

His eyes land on you last. He had no idea you were there or that the Commission had even invited you, but you fit like the missing piece of a puzzle. You’re wearing a beautiful gown that reveals the skin on your back and the delicacy of your collarbone. Katsuki can faintly make out faded scars in the exposed areas – a demonstration of pride for your job. 

He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he thought you looked beautiful. You weren’t speaking to anyone or in the scope of the paparazzi but striding right into the venue. You weren’t smiling or appeared to enjoy the event as you marched past the interviewers and fans. 

“Dynamight, what are your thoughts on the American Hero, Sentinel?” The interview’s voice finally reaches Katsuki’s ears, and a glare casts over his face. 

“What does it matter? She’s just another low-level hero down in the ranks,” he says without thought. A natural response from the fan-favorite hero, Dynamight, and the interviewer couldn’t look more pleased. 

By the time Katsuki was making his way inside, it felt like hours had passed. He and Mina had regrouped with the other three men and decided their dining table would be the ‘base’ for the rest of the night.

The reserved table that Eijirou had graciously bought for them still catered to two other nameless heroes and their dates, and the others were kind enough to make conversation during the meal. Katsuki ate silently, responding when his friends brought him into conversation and dozed off in boredom. 

When Mina excused herself to the bathroom, taking Denki with her for the ‘trip,’ and Eijirou left to serve himself more food, Katsuki took on people-watching with Sero. 

“That man is almost twice the age of his date,” Sero comments as he glances at another table for Katsuki to notice. 

The blond casually looks over and confirms Sero’s claim. 

“I think that’s one of the members of the Commission Board,” Katsuki laughs indignantly. 

Sero grimaces and massages the crease between his brows. “Man, are you serious? That’s disgusting.”

Katsuki doesn’t get a chance to respond as your reappearance derails his train of thought. 

You’re leaning over another board member’s shoulder, talking into his ear sternly. Your face read all business, and Katsuki wondered if you were attending the ball or working it. 

The man waves you off, and Katsuki watches the flicker of anger in your eyes before you accept defeat and walk away. 

“Scoping out the competition?” Sero says in a playful tone.

“She’s not competition,” Katsuki mumbles irritably. “She’s not even on my radar.”

“Then why do your eyes linger?” Sero presses, leaning back in his chair. 

“They do not-”

“Oh, look, she’s walking this way. Excuse me- Hi!” Sero’s fat hand slaps over Katsuki’s mouth as you’re flagged down and notice them. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Cellophane, but please call me Hanta.” Both men rise as you approach them, and Sero extends his hand forward. 

“I’ve seen your work before,” you nod in acknowledgment, accepting his handshake like a tycoon. “It’s nice to see you as well, Lord Dynamight.”

Sero stifles a laugh as he glances at Katsuki, desperately craving to poke the bear. 

Katsuki breathes patiently before saying, “Just Dynamight is fine.” He doesn’t miss the wink you send Sero, which has Katsuki’s friend busting out in laughter and holding his stomach. 

“Are you both enjoying your evening?” You sound like a host catering to patrons, so Katsuki is urged to ask. 

Sero beats him to it.

“You don’t look to be. How come you’re not seated anywhere?”

You sigh tiredly before smiling. “I’m working the event as security. The board thought it was a better idea than outrightedly attending.”

Both men frowned and glanced at one another, thinking the same thing.

“Well, that seems odd, but we’re glad you could still make it.” Katsuki fights the instinct to roll his eyes as his friend speaks for him. 

“Yeah, it’s grueling, but work is work,” you say enthusiastically. Pivoting your hip out, you reveal a little radio attached to your dress. “I even got my radio now.” You look up at Katsuki, and he feels his ears grow hot. 

The last time he saw you, you didn’t have your radio yet, and your reference made it sound like a secret joke only he understood. 

“Anyways, it was nice meeting you,” you say to Sero as you take a departing step. “They need me in another area, but have fun for me.”

“I’ll go with you,” Katsuki says, grabbing his jacket from his seat and making Sero’s eyes bulge. “Shit’s boring anyways.”

“Hey, rude,” Sero comments, placing his hand over his chest. “You’re just gonna ditch me?”

“It’s really okay, sir,” you side with Sero. “Please, stay and enjoy your event.”

“Nah, I’ve got a few questions for you. Keep doing your job. I’ll do what I want.”

You hesitate, glancing at Sero briefly before your radio earpiece grabs your attention.

“Forgive me. Enjoy the evening,” you tell Sero before walking with haste in the opposite direction. 

Katsuki doesn’t falter, falling into step behind you, and you don’t bother glancing back to see if he’s following. 

a/n: hehe only pt 1 bc pt 2 is still wip 👀 & special shoutout to my new moot @hinatas-gym-sock 💗

[racfoam]

AO3 is down, I have a lot of Tomarry & Harrymort EPUBs, here they are. Most of them you'll have to download.

Banish Me to the Garden of Eden

Harry Potter had expected the green of the killing curse, not the red of a stunning spell. He couldn't have guessed that Voldemort would discover the truth first, and chose to trap his wayward horcrux. And in his new cage there is a very simple rule: behave and be rewarded, act out and be punished. He had been asked to die, never told to live.

In Due Thyme epub

Harry Potter has never decorated for the holidays before. Why has he started now? Better yet, why does Voldemort care—and why can't he stop? Their marriage of half a decade has worked flawlessly on the simple principle of, out of sight, out of mind. Neither of them are here by choice, after all, and the manor is large enough for them to avoid each other for months at a time without any trouble. It's safer that way for all involved. Voldemort had assumed they had an understanding on the matter.

But now, his halls are clogged with garlands and lights and Harry has wrought a subtle magic that keeps tugging on the Dark Lord's mind, pulling his attention away from more important matters—like paperwork and the running of a country without the assistance of competent minions. Celebrating the holidays is a waste of time anyway.

Now, if only Voldemort could convince the strange, uncertain yearning in his heart of the same thing.

Coriander

Five times Voldemort saves Harry from being love-potioned (or lust-bombed), intentionally or not - and one time he doesn't have to.

Entwined & Enraptured

Voldemort has won. Hogwarts and England are his, but satisfaction is fleeting when Harry Potter, who vanished during the battle, begins to appear in his dreams, fighting for survival in a frigid wasteland. As Voldemort grows close to Harry, murderous intent gives way to lustful desire and when he succeeds in bringing Harry back from the Drift, their lives are irrevocably changed forever.

Primeval EPUB

A vicious snarl thundered in the air, one that made the hairs in Harry’s arms stand on end, and then— Screams. Harry thought he knew terror, had known it from the moment he’d faced off Voldemort in his first year at Hogwarts. Now he knew better. Something wrenched in his stomach, petrified and noxious at the same time he saw Voldemort move and turn. Voldemort was— Harry gagged. AKA Voldemort's ritual goes horrifically wrong.

hostage EPUB

Love at First Sight EPUB

Voldemort rises from the cauldron with two dicks and some extra powers. Harry's mesmerized.

Murmuration (EPUB)

Exhausted and anemic from Umbridge's Blood Quill, Harry decides to relieve stress by writing Voldemort a parody of a letter, intimating that Harry wouldn't mind if Voldemort murdered Umbridge (not that he'd ever send it, of course). In a series of events culminating in Voldemort receiving that letter, Harry discovers what it means to request the aid of a possessive Dark Lord.

Kisses Cursed EPUB

Fairytale AU. Loosely inspired by Beauty and the Beast. Some said he was once a man, cursed, and some that he sold his soul to demons and became one in turn. Others said that such evil as he could never have been human. That he was instead a nightmare, left lingering upon the earth a very long time ago. Harry just knew it wasn't safe to walk near the Riddle House after dark.

another day to find you

When Lord Voldemort last closed his eyes, his greatest enemy had bested him and he had felt the final vestiges of his ruptured soul sinking into his greatest fear. He opened his eyes again only to be met with a reality far too inconceivable to be true: Harry Potter cooking his breakfast in an apron.

splits your skin from end to end, down the center of the earth

Snape has just killed Dumbledore before Harry’s eyes, and he will not rest until he makes the man pay. But Snape isn’t the only Death Eater wanting to gain favor with the Dark Lord. No, there are ambitions far worse than even Snape’s, Harry learns. Ambitions that deliver him directly into Voldemort’s hands.

“I was so very nearly tricked, you see, but Lord Voldemort is not so easily fooled. No, I shall not kill you Harry, not yet. I think I should like to keep you instead.”

Freefall

A voice whispers to Harry in the still of the night, when he is on the verge of sleep and at his most vulnerable. A retelling of Deathly Hallows. Rated M for Harry/Voldemort slash.

Like My Very Own Blood

Minister Riddle won his election in part because he took the extremely charitable path of adopting a war orphan—Harry Potter, the child of a historically Light family—and raising the boy as his own. It was an investment worth making… or it had been, until his quiet, clever son grew into a brilliant, scheming Omega determined to seduce his adoptive father by any means necessary.

Or: Harry out-Slytherins the ultimate Slytherin, and Tom’s absentee parenting comes back to bite him on the ass.

(Or make him bite Harry on the ass. Or. Whatever. It’s all very bad-wrong and you should probably avoid this story unless you are morally bankrupt. Like me.)

Two Words In Green Ink (last 2 chaps ie Godric's Hollow are missing)

Eleven year old Harry didn't know how he knew--he didn't even know what it was he knew--but as he stood in Olivander's shop with Hagrid, he vowed that he would never tell a soul about the two words written on his wrist. Avada Kedavra. --- a story of souls told in three parts.

Mine

After the incident at the Department of Mysteries, Lord Voldemort discovers what Harry Potter is. He reaches out to his human horcrux through dreams, and the course of the Second Wizarding War is forever altered.

A dark fairy tale.

Harry Potter and the Seven Soup Bowls

Harry stumbles upon a house that belongs to a man named Voldemort. Inside the house he finds soup. And a bed. And maybe true love.

There’s A Potter On Me

Potter is attached to Voldemort in the most literal sense and the brat won't let go. Voldemort is... very confused. (Okay, maybe more homicidal than confused but that only lasts the first few hours.)

Monster Fucker

During their nightly gossiping session, Ginny poses a question about how snake-like Voldemort might be. They fantasize a bit, then go to bed and assume that that was it.

A week later and Harry just has to know.

With Every Guitar String Scar On My Hand

Severus rose and looked at him in anticipation and the Dark Lord's eyes remained fixed on him, "My Omega-"

Sorry, what? What? Severus just hallucinated. My Omega?

"-he hasn't presented yet but he went into a drop and from what I am inferring he was under a lot of undue stress," The Dark Lord informed him in detail, "I will let the healers take you to him but I must warn you until he breathes so do you and your godson, the minute anything happens to him I promise that I will kill you both."

Severus noticed how stiff Lucius became at the man's words. He then quickly made his way into the room to see Cissa and every other healer in the Dark Lord's service present, crowding around the bed. As he moved in the direction of the bed, the healers moved away and Severus felt the air leave his lungs. Fuck. Harry Potter was the Dark Lord's Omega. The realisation hit him like a truck and the need to apparate away from this grew stronger.

Or Harry disappears. Severus is summoned, threatened and horrified in that order. Narcissa is holding her sanity by a thread. Tom is smitten.

Nightshade

In his mind, in his heart, in his soul — Harry.

Female Harry Potter

Precious Horcrux - of course I have it, that is my dream fic, of course I downloaded it, and I managed to get full 10 chap pdf in between AO3 crashing, and then sent a full pdf to @youknowmevj

"Precious Horcrux..."

The two possessive, cloying words, hissed low, made Harrie feel nauseous.

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to keep you."

Let me know if you can't open a link of the epub/pdf bcs I had to unrestrict manually each one so I might have missed some. Happy reading! 🫡❤️

[mazeinthemiroh]

guardian angel

Pairing: Seonghwa x female! reader

Genre: romance, angst, fluff, slight crack, highschool! au, bad boy! au, happy ending

Word count: 3.8k

Requested?: yes

Warnings: cursing, a lot of cliche themes, mentions of smoking and drinking, elements of crack, potential sexual assault (doesn't actually happen), suggestive, wooyoung being his awesome self

Summary: Seonghwa is known for being a delinquent. Nothing phases, and no one messes with him. But there is someone who he is drawn to. Someone he can't quite keep off his mind.

Author's Notes: I had so much fun writing this you have no idea. It took way longer to write than I wanted but I need it to be perfect. This fic does have some mature theme so do be warned! Thank you so much anon for requesting this. I really hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think!! <3

The whole concept of having a guardian angel was comforting. intriguing, almost. Having someone watching over, protecting you, perhaps without you even knowing. That was a comforting thought.

Or at least for you it was. But in this compulsory religious studies class, most kids were seconds away from falling asleep. The teacher droned on with her monotone voice, flicking through the PowerPoint presentation, which looked like a half-hearted effort, put together last night.

Not that it mattered. No one was paying attention anyway, all except the handful of teens who wanted to get the best out of their mediocre education system.

"Silence please" the teacher mumbled weakly at the class. Poor Miss had no presence, no impact. The hard-working students, such as yourself, usually sitting in the front row, could usually hear her feeble voice. But they weren't the ones who needed to hear it.

"She said shut up!"

A voice with authority. Everyone collectively gasped, quick to close their lips now as they turned to face the principal, who walked in not moments ago. She was the one to be feared.

And yet there were still some people who just didn't fear her enough.

"You boys at the back" she snarled as she pointed over to the back of the classroom.

Ahh, the boys at the back. There's such a thing to be said about a high school's social hierarchy. It followed the same, cliche, stereotypical pattern as every American high school rom-com movie does. It is the same each time, each year. At the bottom: nerds, geeks, unconventionally attractive pupils, or just simply people who strive to succeed academically which for some reason makes you a loser. And at the top? Hot, rich mean girl gangs who absorb their power by thriving off the fear of the 'low-lives' below them. And, of course, the boys at the back.

"Why are you still talking? Did you not hear me the first time?"

One of them mumbled and snickered but it was hard to tell who. Or at least, for the principle it was.

It was quite clearly Wooyoung. Known for never knowing when to shut up, Wooyoung was the one to not understand when things went too far, or when a situation was too serious. And he was the one to get away with everything.

"Who's still talking?"

Wooyoung decides, the clown that he is, to turn to Seonghwa in this instance, with the usual shit-eating grin on his face, making it seem like Seonghwa was the accomplice.

"Was it you, pretty boy? To the front of the class now!"

Seonghwa glared daggers into Wooyoung as he reluctantly grabbed his stuff and got up to walk right to the front.

Even just walking through the class, you could see how much power Seonghwa would hold. Girls would giggle and swoon over him, whispering to each other about how good he looked today. Boys would cough awkwardly as he walked passed them, pretending not to be even remotely attracted to him. And the nerds at the front wouldn't even dare look at him. Especially you.

Which was typical because the only desk that was free at the front for him to sit at was the one directly next to yours.

So, as you screamed internally at yourself for not choosing another seat at the start of the year, Seonghwa settled down next to you, throwing his stuff on the desk and sitting back leisurely on his seat. he let out a long, dramatic sigh.

"Good. Now the rest of you need to get on, you will be tested on this!" Everyone let out a low groan at this, and then the principal promptly left without another word.

The usual rumble of conversation started up again. You stared downwards at the work in front of you, trying to concentrate on something, anything that wasn't the hot guy next to you.

"Hey."

Your heart stopped. Breath hitched up in your throat as you strangled on a previous inhale. Is he talking to me? You thought to yourself. Eyes wide with fear, anticipation, and excitement, you decided to do the unthinkable.

You turned towards him.

Never had it occurred to you that, not only was he talking to you, but he was looking at you too. So as you mustered up the courage to turn your head towards him, you were faced with two, large, deadly brown orbs staring at you, eating you alive by the intensity of his gaze. This was the closest he had been to you. And the bravest you had ever been to dare to take his features in this close. You couldn't help yourself. Eyes trailing along his smooth, tanned skin, jawline so sharp you were convinced you could cut yourself on it if you touch it. Jet black hair styled to frame his face so expertly; so precise was the wisps of his fringe, and although he kept brushing his hair back with his long fingers, the stubborn stray hairs would remain rested neatly on his forward. Perfect. Strong cheekbones, magnificently angled nose, luscious lips that hid a devious tongue.

And all this time you were staring at him. But by God did he stare back. Reality only hit you once you were done drinking in his features, savouring the human painting before you as if he was the last painting left on earth. You only blinked your eyes downwards once you were conscious and very much aware that your wide eyes and agape mouth had made his eyes sparkle with curiosity.

"Hi" was all you could muster. A feeble, pathetic excuse of a word that he could barely hear. He felt the corner of his lips pull up at your response.

"What are we actually supposed to be learning?"

You were surprised at his question. Did he actually wanna do the work? Or did he just want to talk to you? Or.. or... what was happening?? You blinked in response before clearing your throat.

"Well, today's lesson is about angels. You know, the different types of angels, and different religious interpretations of what they are like. Miss just finished talking about Guardian angels and-"

"Oh, I don't actually care sweetie," he chuckled lowly as you blushed ferociously at the sudden pet name. You suspected he was mocking you, but all the while his eyes held a warm curiosity as he continued to gaze at you. "I don't believe in angels or anything like that, tsk."

Perhaps he was passing the time. Making the lesson go faster for himself by making conversation. That's how you viewed it anyway.

"Why did you ask then?"

Your sudden boldness shocked you both, but you hid it well. His eyebrow quirked up with interest.

"I just wanted to that pretty voice of yours," he hummed, his tone a mixture of playful banter and flirtatious intent. It made your cheeks feel warm.

"Do you believe in any of this crap then?" He queried, suddenly looking away and taking a much more serious interest in his broken pencil, which he played with masterfully and with great skill between the fingers of his right hand.

You tried not to get defensive about his ignorant and outright rude attitude. Part felt that that's what he wanted. He wanted to lure you into a trap, an argument, and all just for his amusement.

"I like the idea of guardian angels," you paused to look away from him, your gaze sinking to your desk again, "having someone to watch over you like that... I don't know... the whole idea makes me feel less... less lonely."

That was your truth. This wasn't the first conversation you envisioned having with him. It felt a bit strange, a bit peculiar. Too deep too quick, especially with someone like him.

You expected him to scoff at this considering his previous remark. But you felt him gaze at you once more. He didn't tut, he didn't hum in response. He just turned away without another word.

That was the first time you interacted with Seonghwa. And you had a feeling, deep down, that it would be your last.

I mean, who were you kidding? You both guys ran in different circles. Had different lives, different friends, different... everything.

You knew this, and you knew this well. So why were you still thinking about him?

You felt he was undoubtedly out-of-your-league in all aspects. Looks, attitude, social status. Stuff that meant absolutely nothing to you but supposedly meant everything to everybody else. It was infuriating to tolerate these mindsets on a daily basis and yet you find yourself enduring and getting swallowed but the same expectations these mindsets create.

As you wallow in a stream of these thoughts you do not think for a second that the boy you now had eyes for - the delinquent who took a shine to you for reasons you could not explain - would be thinking about you in the same way.

But he was. And he hated it.

He wasn't a ladies' man like Wooyoung was. Wooyoung thrived when given attention from a pretty girl and he would do anything to impress them. Seonghwa was just not like that.

Rather, he preferred to flirt around, subtly. Throw a few winks here and there, biting his lip for too long as he made fleeting eye contact with as many girls as he could. He was quiet in his flirtatious endeavours, but he never really meant anything.

So he doesn't know why he starts feeling this way about you.

"What's the matter with you then?" Wooyoung nudged his friend, who seemed quieter than usual. The usual gang of boys met on the rooftop of the art building in their school. They would usually stay back well after hours, long until it gets dark. No one knew they were there, and jumping the gates was easy when they need to exit.

So that's where they were, vaping sloppily and drinking uncontrollably. The bottles of beers accumulated around the overflowing rubbish bin. It was surprising that no one caught on to their activities considering they were shamelessly loud, with zero fear of getting found out, perhaps because they got away with everything.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Seonghwa shrugged his friend off, staring down at the glass bottle in his hand.

Wooyoung isn't stupid. He knows when something isn't quite right. Better yet, he is persistent. Stubborn, even. Annoyingly determined to chip away at you until you crack. He gets what he wants.

"Must be some lucky girl for you to be thinking about her so much," Wooyoung teased as the rest joined in to chuckle. Seonghwa scowled at the boy, glaring at him in a way that would send chills to someone's heart. It was a shame that he was glaring at Wooyoung, who was simply brimming with audacity. Seonghwa knew better than to get into an argument with him, so he just kept quiet.

What Wooyoung said made him think though. Why was he thinking about you? Why you, specifically? His calculating eyes shifted from one object to another as he tried to pattern in his mind some sound reasoning.

Perhaps it was the way you looked at him. Well, other people stared at his face on a daily. He just looked so perfect. So absolutely stunning. As Seonghwa looked back he realised you had the same gaze and yet something different. It was obvious you admired his appearance, perhaps even shocked when seeing him up close. However, he recalled a certain trace of curiosity. Of excitement. And as you stared at his face like this, he didn't realise was studying yours.

Yet, there was something in the way you interacted with him; the spike of boldness that shot out of you was something he didn't quite expect. Most girls either stammer like idiots when trying to talk to him, or they screech and giggle and touch him playfully when he doesn't want them to. There's no in-between. So admittedly, he was caught a bit off guard by how you responded to him.

And he liked being caught off guard.

It had been a long ass day and you were, quite frankly, fed up. With your last lesson just finished you were so, so ready to go. Shoving your notebooks into your already heavy bag, you were stopped by the teacher.

"Y/N, I was just wondering if you wanted to join some extracurricular activities? It would really boost up your grades and would make your CV look excellent-"

Ah yes, of course. Here comes the lecture all the bright pupils get which guilt trip them into joining some weird club that no one goes to. You've heard this all before, and you weren't considering it now. It's a shame your teacher caught you at the wrong time because you were barely able to keep your eyes open from pure exhaustion as she spoke to you.

"Thanks Miss, but I've been really busy lately.."

You could see the disappointment in her face but you were so done with the day that you didn't even care.

"Just think about it, okay?"

Heaving a sigh, you slung your bag over your shoulder while the teacher left the classroom.

You knew one of the boys was still there, lurking at the back somewhere. The same group of boys always stayed back and you couldn't possibly think why. And you didn't dare to ask.

"Hey, Princess~"

You couldn't pin that voice on a face. It sounded familiar, but all the boys' voices sounded the same. Only Wooyoung's voice stood out the most since he talked so damn much. And, of course, Seonghwa's...

"You joining a stupid little club for your favourite teacher, eh?"

It was so petty you could've laughed. You turned around to face whoever this boy was, and his name escaped you. His name didn't matter to you regardless.

It unnerved you that he was by himself. Sure, having a whole group of them sneer at you wasn't ideal, but being alone with this guy after school hours made you want to run. But you didn't.

Your unamused face made the boy chuckle as you stared directly into his eyes. You wish you hadn't looked there, because surely you must have looked terrified by now; how he stalked up to you with confidence and intensity of a crow attacking a fresh piece of roadkill.

You stood your ground.

"No, I decided not to."

End of conversation. Done. Dusted. Swept under the rug.

Surely?

He was at an uncomfortable distance now, too close for someone you don't know. And even closer for someone you didn't want to know.

"Good girl."

You shivered. The dread built up in the pit of your stomach.

"Still," he mused, "a strip club doesn't sound so bad."

He had you pressed up against the table as his hands started for the strap of your vest top, a finger curling around it as he slowly started to pull it down. You were paralysed. Eyes wide with fear and disbelief and confusion. You should've run, you told yourself. You should've run you stupid girl.

"Get your fucking hands off her!"

There was a voice, familiar in its depth, but not so familiar in its intensity and rage. Both of you snapped your head over to find Seonghwa, his eyes emoting the most indescribable anger someone could ever feel.

"What the fuck is wrong with you man, let us have our fu-"

It was too late. A fist thrown to the face was enough to send the boy flying. He was weak as he crashed down dramatically into one of the desks. Seonghwa moved to him and kept going. Punch, kick, slam. The boy would be bruised for weeks.

But he ran off anyway, stumbling out of the class. The heavy footfall of his feet echoed down the hall.

You and Seonghwa stared at each other in silence.

His eyes were full of regret. Regret that he didn't stay behind with his 'friend.' Regret that he let you see this violent side of him. Regret that he wasn't there for you. If he hadn't come in at the right time-

Your eyes were filled with sorrow, vision clouded by the beads of tears that formed at the bottom of your eyes. You had felt so alone, so out of your depth and in danger.

"Thank you so much," you burst into tears. You grabbed him and sunk your head into his chest and sobbed into the fabric of his t-shirt. Holding him close into a feeble, yet certain, hug. It was not something you intended to do, but in the overwhelming situation you found yourself in, you felt you owed him the world.

So a hug will do for now.

"Of course he's out of the group, what are you even saying? It's no problem! He was a twat anyway."

Wooyoung sucked on his lollipop with such passion and vigour that Seonghwa thought he was going to inhale and choke on it, which admittedly would've been quite funny.

They sat by themselves on the rooftop, dangling their feet over the edge. They could see the sunset very clearly. It was beautiful. Wooyoung teased that it was almost... romantic! Of course this caused to threaten to push him over the edge for.

"You really pummelled him in though. He's got a black eye and everything. I never thought you were the type," Wooyoung said through slurps, talking with his lollipop still in his mouth.

Seonghwa stared at the sun ahead, its rays giving his face an ethereal glow.

"I don't care."

There was a moment of silence. Seonghwa's eyes stared ahead.

"I can't let anything happen to her."

"Why though?"

"I don't know. I don't even know!"

"I do."

"Huh?"

"You L word her."

Wooyoung chose this moment to flutter his eyelashes mockingly at Seonghwa.

"Shut up."

"You do!"

"That doesn't make any sense I don't even know her."

Seonghwa may have said this but, in his heart, he knew he was wrong. Deep down he knew you. He had watched over you, observed the way you talk, what your interests are, what classes you liked the most that make your eyes light up, and what classes you hated and never put your hand up in. All from the back of the class, he would peak every now and then just to make sure you were okay. Like a guardian angel-

"Maybe you want to know her."

Seonghwa looked at his friend with an eyebrow quirked.

"How does your eyebrow not hurt from you doing that so much I will never know..."

"You're a pain in my ass, Wooyoung."

Seonghwa chuckled and gazed at Wooyoung fondly. It was nice having a friend like him to talk to about anything. Wooyoung can be crazy at times but he always has his back, that's for sure.

"Don't worry, I got this for you."

Seonghwa scrunched up his face in confusion.

"Wait wha-"

"Shhh, don't worry. I have an idea~"

"Not another one of your crazy-ass ideas."

"Don't worry. You're gonna love this one!"

The end of the day on the last day of term felt like such a rush. Nothing exciting happened but you didn't expect much to begin with.

"Bye, I'll see you after summer," you hugged one of your friends goodbye, giving them a squeeze. It would be lonely without them for all this time, as they were going on holiday. There was a certain emptiness you felt at the bottom of your heart when you watched them walk away. You felt there was nothing to look forward to until they returned. It was a shame.

The hallway was starting to lull down with its usual chaos and students fled the school as soon as the bell rang. One by one, students disappeared until only a few remained around you.

As you fiddled with the keys to your locker, on opening it a piece of paper slipped out of it.

Your eyes sparkle with curiosity as you leaned down to pick the paper up. It was small and folded. Your fingers worked at opening it up, revealing slanted handwriting in black biro pen:

'Meet me on the art room roof.

~ Your Guardian Angel'

Your eyes glossed over now, staring at the paper. It was hard for you to examine what you had felt. It wasn't disbelief or shock or confusion. It was certainty. Relief. Comfort.

Smiling to yourself, you did as you were instructed. There was a quickness in your step, a skip of hope and anticipation as you marched to the other side of the school.

Up the stairs to the art classroom, opening the fire exit door and up some more stone stairs, cold and loud with each footstep. And up you were, on the roof, the sky now open to you with open arms as you were embraced by a warm breeze.

There stood Seonghwa, his slicked back hair shining in the sun. His shirt was untucked and hanging over his black trousers, and he wore his usual white bomber jacket on his back, which you thought, at this moment, looked like two angel wings. Perhaps you were romanticising, but it was his fault.

His back was to you as he stood near the edge of the roof. It was like he was posing, like he was in a movie and this was his action shot. As the drone camera circulates around him, getting a 360 cinematic shot of him, his face would be revealed as daring, determined eyes shining in his passion. That's what you had imagined.

"Is this my guardian angel?"

There was no movement when he heard your voice. You expected him to turn around but maybe he had other plans. Maybe he wanted you to come to him. On debating about it in your mind, you decided to give in, shuffling closer until you were right beside him, staring out into the distance just like he did.

"I don't believe in that crap, you know that."

This statement didn't hurt you. His voice was soft, playful, almost melodic. There was a purposeful gentleness about his words in which no man had ever spoken to you before.

A silence was shared between you both, and you couldn't discern whether it was awkward or just simply... was.

"But I like the idea of it," he continued. "The whole idea makes me feel less... lonely."

You recognised your own words that you had said to him before, and suddenly the bubbling sensation of hope erupted in your heart.

He turned to you with a fond smile, and at that moment your eyes connected. You had never felt so at ease when gazing into someone's eyes before. Seonghwa had a warm reassurance that no one could quite match.

Pulling you close to him, he embraced you gently, head atop yours as you both gazed out at the view together. It felt so intimate, like you had both shared a secret, that could never be told to another soul. It felt safe, comfortable. It just felt right.

Secure in his arms, shielded, protected: that's where Seonghwa wanted you to be, always.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Trey Clover - Dorm Uniform Vignette

"If you end up liking it"

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Rose Maze]

Ace: Tending to the lawn's so useless, ain't it? Doesn't matter how much weeds we pull, they grow back almost right away.

Deuce: Guess you and I see eye to eye sometimes, Ace. I feel like at this rate, we'll never be finished.

Trey: Hey now, don't slack off. We need to make sure the lawn is perfect for the Unbirthday Party.

Cater: And if the yard is in disarray, it won't look good in picture. After you finish weeding, then comes the mowing ♪ Good luck!

Ace: Eeeh～ Why do the first years have to do this～?

Trey: It just turned out that the first years were put in charge of getting the croquet field prepped. The second and third years have their own tasks, you know.

Trey: We all have to help set up the party. That's what the Queen of Hearts' Laws say, after all.

Trey: Everyone works together to put together the party, and grows closer to each other as a result… A rather common principle, don't you think?

Ace: …No, what I think is that everyone's just scared of it losing their heads to the Dorm Leader, and that's why they're all working together.

Deuce: So then, what are you upperclassmen doing?

Cater: I'm getting the party venue set up～ I'm gonna make sure it's poppin' so you better be looking forward to it ♪

Trey: I'm making the cake. We can't skip out on the cake for an Unbirthday Party, after all.

Ace: Yay! We get to chow down on Trey-senpai's super delish cake! What kind are you making this time?

Trey: What kind of cake? …Hmm, I don't think I can describe it in one word.

Trey: An "Unbirthday" is literally a day where no one has a birthday. So it'll be a cake that's specifically built for that.

Ace: That pretty much makes it sound like how it looks and tastes is gonna depend on the person who makes it, then… Ah.

Ace: Wait, so, on the other hand, doesn't that mean that the cake could literally be any kind of cake?

Ace: Oh, but marron tarts aren't allowed, right.

Trey: Eh? Ah, yeah. Based on what's been established by the Queen of Hearts' Laws…

Trey: "Place candles on the cake," and "Marron tarts are forbidden."

Ace: Then how about we use a cherry pie as a base this time around, 'stead of a regular cake?

Ace: It's sweet, tart, delicious, and the crispy, flaky pie crust just makes it so perfect to chow down on ♪

Ace: …And most importantly, it's my favorite food.

Deuce: Ace, don't be all selfish like that and cause more problems for Clover-senpai. Also…

Deuce: Instead of a cherry pie, it'd be better to make a chiffon cake made with a ton of eggs. It's not as sweet, so everyone can enjoy it.

Ace: Look at you, you're also just requesting something you want to eat yourself!

Deuce: N-No I'm not. I was thinking of the whole dorm…

Heartslabyul Student A: Whaaat, are we requesting cakes? I want a chocolate one!

Heartslabyul Student B: Me, I want a cheesecake!

Heartslabyul Student C: Cakes don't necessarily need to be sweet. Trey-senpai, what if you make a quiche next?

[rabble, rabble]

Trey: Hey now, you all. No one said I would be accepting any requests!

Trey: All the ingredients are already prepared in the first place. It'd be difficult for me to switch it up at the last minute.

Ace: I'm sure you can do something about it with that big brain of yours, Trey-senpai～

Cater: I get wanting to beg the super genius pâtissier Trey-kun～

Cater: But it might be a bit problematic if you all bombard him with your own wants, y'know?

Heartslabyul Student A: Yeah, but even if the cake is crazy delicious, if it's just the same thing we always have, we'll just get bored of it.

Ace: Ahh, I get that. It's like, something original would be great… 'Cause I'd just get bored otherwise, so I kinda want to eat something different each time.

Trey: …I see.

Trey: Then, how about you all try to make your own cake? That way, you can eat whatever you want.

Trey: As you know, as with the Master Chef elective course, this school likes encouraging the student body to learn how to cook.

Deuce: Master Chef is that practical cooking class, right?

Trey: Right. It's a traditional program that was established some time ago so that the students will be able to cook for themselves after they graduate.

Trey: It's not required, so not many students take it, but it teaches you the fundamentals, so it's a pretty good class to take.

Heartslabyul Student A: Hmm… Guess I'll give it a try. From what I've seen Trey-senpai do, cooking looks like a cinch.

Heartslabyul Student C: It'll definitely be more fun and easier than all this boring weeding!

Trey: We're always shorthanded when it comes to making the snacks, so it'd be great if you guys come out of this with a newfound passion for cooking.

Trey: Alright, so I'll give you the equipment you'll need to cook, so come with me if you want to make your cake.

Deuce: …

Deuce: …Hey, Ace, that was pretty rude what you just said. How could you say you'd be bored of his cakes, or that it's not original…?

Ace: You were thinking the same thing. 'Sides, Trey-senpai's chill, so he won't get angry over something like that.

Deuce: Hmm… Maybe? Guess he is pretty mature.

Deuce: He's unusually helpful and kind for a student at this school, too…

Deuce: If someone told me that the job that I'm always doing is "easy," I bet I'd get pretty upset.

Ace: If he got angry over something so small like that, there's no way he'd be able to look after our super short-tempered Dorm Leader like he does.

Cater: That's true. I don't think I've really seen Trey-kun get too angry before that much either～

Cater: But... That's why when he does get angry, he carries it for a while...

[Heartslabyul Dorm]

Riddle: I absolutely do not believe this. Just how sloppy does one have to be to leave something like this?

Riddle: The weeding has not been completed, and the rose painting is haphazard. The silverware hasn't been polished yet, either!

Riddle: At this rate, nothing will be ready in time for the Unbirthday Party tomorrow!

Trey: Settle down, Riddle.

Trey: You agreed that we will see through the whole party without losing any of the dorm student's, remember?

Riddle: Urgh…

Trey: No one can do everything perfectly the first time.

Trey: Why don't you start with teaching the first years the proper and efficient way to tend to the lawn?

Trey: If we just take it one step at a time, everything will be ready in time for the party. Right?

Riddle: …You're right. I understand. Thanks, Trey.

Trey: Now, then. I'll go check on those painting the roses…

Trey: …But before that, I think I'll go check on how the guys are doing in the kitchen, just in case.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Kitchen]

Heartslabyul Student A: If we're making a chocolate cake, we need to melt the chocolate. Let's put all the chocolate bars in the oven!

Heartslabyul Student B: No wait, aren't we making a cheesecake? I want a particular type of cheese, so we should use magic to ferment the milk.

Heartslabyul Student C: I already told you, we're going to make a quiche. On that note, does anyone know how to fillet a fish…?

Trey: Seems pretty busy in here. Yeah, looks like you guys are trying hard.

Cater: Ah, Trey-kun. Did you pop on over to look in on the first years trying to make the cake?

Trey: Yeah, basically. Have you already finished setting up the gardens with the rest of your group?

Cater: Siiigh. Yeah, we're still working suuuper hard at it…

Cater: Maybe it's 'cause he's all strung out about the upcoming Unbirthday Party, but Riddle-kun's been in a super bad mood recently～

Cater: I feel like if he sees even one more mistake, he'll explode.

Trey: Well, the fact that he's not exploded so far shows just how far he's come, right? He's trying his best, too.

Cater: And there it is, you're coddling him again～!

Cater: Has your relationship with him been like this since you were little?

Cater: I don't really have any childhood friends, so I don't really get it, but doesn't it get really tiring?

Trey: Not really, he didn't really have a temper when he was a kid. Maybe he is like he is now because he's hoisted the responsibilities of being a Dorm Leader on his shoulders.

Cater: Eeh～ Seriously? You sure he didn't inherit that from his super intense and strict mom?

Trey: Heheh. I'll let you know now, Riddle's mother is not like what you see with him at all.

Trey: Back when we got caught having snuck Riddle out to play…

Trey: She stormed over to my house and with a thundering rage 10 times as ferocious as Riddle's, she lectured my whole entire family for 5 hours straight.

Cater: That's scary! …How can you just laugh about that, Trey-kun!?

Trey: I mean, don't you think it's funny when looking back on it now? She got so mad at something as simple as playing outside.

Trey: But yeah, I was definitely scared at the time. I didn't even understand why she was so angry…

Trey: I was so worried that I had done something unbelievably horrendous.

Trey: Whenever I'd ask Che'nya about it, he'd be super unhelpful and just say "I don't knyeow～"

Trey: On top of that, whenever I thought about the fact that Riddle must have gotten in even more trouble than me, I just felt so guilty.

Cater: Huh. I guess you were a pretty serious kid when you were younger… Or maybe more of a worrywart?

Trey: Anyone would become like that if they came face-to-face with that kind of mother. Anyway, she was someone who was almost impossible to deal with once she flew off the handle.

Trey: So, when I think back to that, I'm just glad that I can help Riddle's mood by giving him something sweet to eat.

Cater: There it is! Yeah, I can definitely see how his mood brightens whenever he has one of your tarts in front of him.

Cater: Seriously, your cakes are do so much for us. I don't know how many times they've probably saved us all past year…

Trey: You can praise all you want, but you won't get anything out of it.

Trey: And this time, I got kicked off cake duty without being able to make anything, so.

Cater: Ahaha…

Cater: …Yuuup. He's definitely a lot angrier than I thought.

Trey: Did you just say something?

Cater: Nooope.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Tea Garden]

The next day―

Ace: S-Somehow… Somehow, we were able to capture all the escaped hedgehogs before the party started…

Deuce: The flamingos are all ready to go as well. Now the party can start without a hitch.

Trey: Thank you, the both of you. It seems you went through quite a lot of trouble to prepare for this.

Riddle: As one point I also worried about whether we would be successful, but… It seems we'll be able to begin the Unbirthday Party with no issues.

Cater: Riddle-kun's looking pretty satisfied with everything. Guess all our necks'll be saved, at this rate ♪

Riddle: Oh?

Riddle: I don't see the cake around at all. Wherever could it be?

Heartslabyul Student A: Uhh, that is…

Riddle: The Unbirthday Party cannot begin without the cake. Hurry and bring it forth!

Heartslabyul Student B: U-Understood…

Ace: Hm? Do the faces of those guys who made the cake look kinda off to anyone else?

Trey: …

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Tea Garden]

Riddle: The Unbirthday Party cannot begin without the cake. Hurry and bring it forth!

Heartslabyul Student B: …Here it is.

Heartslabyul Student A: This is the cake… that we first years worked really hard to make.

Deuce/Ace/Cater: !?!?!?

Deuce: Gag, what's that smell!? It's sweet and smoky and fishy… and tart and spicy! It makes my eyes hurt!

Cater: It has green syrup, blue cream, and a shocking pink decoration…

Cater: I feel like this is more of an art installation than an actual cake. If I were to upload it to Magicam, I'd have to tag it as #DestructiveCreativity, probably.

Ace: Hey, did it just move? That cake definitely just moved right now, right? Is it really something edible!?

Trey: Oh, man. Looks like a pretty intense cake. How was this even possible to create?

Heartslabyul Student A: I-It wasn't me who did it. It's this guy's fault!

Heartslabyul Student B: N-No, it's not! More like you… Wait, hold on a moment?

Heartslabyul Student B: If we're looking for who caused it, didn't this all happen because Ace said, "I want to eat a different cake than we usually do"?

Ace: I might have said it, but you guys are the one who made it! I got nothing to do with this!

Heartslabyul Student C: Then it's Deuce's fault for chiming and saying he wanted a chiffon cake, then.

Deuce: D-Don't drag me into this! Take responsibility for your own mistakes!

[rabble, rabble]

Riddle: …

Cater: Uhhh, hey, Riddle-kun? Let's try to keep the peace here, 'kay?

Riddle: …You lot!!!!!!

Heartslabyul Students: Eek.

Cater: Sh-Shoot. We all came so far, but Riddle-kun's temper's about to explode…!

Riddle: I cannot believe you would craft such a preposterous cake for our prestigious Unbirthday Party…

Riddle: I'm sure all of you are prepared for the consequence, yes!?

Ace: Waaaaait! Why me, too!?

Deuce: Rosehearts-ryōchō, please calm yourself! If you require an apology, I'll make these guys…!

Riddle: Your excuses are useless!!!

Riddle: Off with your…!

???: Stop!

Deuce: Eh, this voice is…

Trey: Settle down, Riddle.

Ace: T-Trey-senpai!

Riddle: What are you doing, Trey? Let go of my arm.

Riddle: I must mete out the proper punishment to these first years who have ruined this Unbirthday!

Trey: …You're right in that this cake doesn't look to be edible at all.

Trey: Not only is it absolutely unappetizing, it also smells atrocious and is sloppily made. It's very laughable.

Trey: …But still, the first years came together and made a very Heartslabyul-like cake.

Trey: Don't you think that in itself is a good thing?

Riddle: NOT AT ALL!!!!!

Cater: That's what I thought he'd say.

Riddle: To start with, there aren't even any candles on this cake. They did not even follow the Queen of Hearts' Laws!

Riddle: Why didn't you make the cake like usual, Trey? If you had made it as you normally do, this wouldn't have happened…

Trey: Alright, alright. Don't blow a fuse. It's our Unbirthday Party, after all.

Trey: Don't worry about a thing. I've already prepared the cake I always make for our Unbirthday.

Deuce/Ace/Cater: Eh!?

Trey: An Unbirthday is an extremely precious occasion for us here in Heartslabyul. Obviously, I would never slight something as important as this, now, would I?

Riddle: …

Riddle: …You should have started with that, then. I almost reflexively took the heads off these boys.

Riddle: As long as we can begin the Unbirthday Party without any issues, then everything is well. You lot, make sure you thank Trey.

Heartslabyul Students: W-We're saved…!

Cater: That's Trey-kun for you! Alllright, looks like everything's ready to go.

Cater: Let's get this Unbirthday Party started!!!!

Trey: Yeah, let's do that. …A very merry Unbirthday!

Everyone: MERRY UNBIRTHDAY!!!!!

Ace: T-Trey-senpai… Or rather, Trey-sama! You saved us!

Deuce: I thought we were going to lose our heads. Thank you very much for persuading the Dorm Leader not to!

Cater: That was amazing, Trey-kun! When did you even make that replacement cake?

Trey: Last night, after everyone went to sleep. I had a bit of a bad feeling, so I made it, just in case.

Ace: Man, Trey-senpai's cake looks super delish, as always～ Just looking at it’s making my stomach rumble.

Deuce: Yeah, I can't wait to eat it.

Trey: Oh, but this cake isn't enough to satisfy you, right?

Deuce/Ace: Eh?

Trey: Well, apparently, it's not enough to have the same flavor every time, so don't worry, Riddle and I will eat this one.

Cater: Guess you really were upset by hearing all the first years say they were bored of your cakes, huh.

Ace: T-Trey-senpai～ Don't say such mean things. That was just a rhetorical comment…

Deuce: That's right! I think that your cakes are the best, Clover-senpai. Right, you guys?

Heartslabyul Students: Yes! We want to eat Trey-senpai's cake!

Trey: …Do you guys understand now, right? You can’t just throw whatever you want into baking and hope it sticks.

Trey: You need to calculate all possible risks, plan ahead, and adapt to the situation as they arise…

Trey: Once you can master that, then it becomes "the norm." After all, it takes a lot of work to get to that point.

Ace: Uhhh... I'm just asking here, but you're still talking about baking, right? Kinda feels like you might be talking about the Dorm Leader there…

Trey: Regardless. Maybe you all learned a little bit of what I have to go through?

Deuce/Ace: Yes, sir…

Trey: Good, I appreciate your honesty.

Deuce: I really learned from this. …I'll savor this cake you made, Trey-senpai.

Heartslabyul Students: Let's chow dow～…

Trey: Wait.

Deuce/Ace: Eh?

Trey: What do you plan to do with the cake you made? Don't waste any food.

Trey: Unless you can finish eating that whole thing, I can't let you eat any of my Unbirthday cake.

Deuce: Y-You want us to eat this disgusting cake!?

Deuce: So I guess it's not enough to just apologize with words, huh…

Ace: How's he the "mature and kind one," again…?

Cater: Basically, the nicer the person, the scarier they are when they're angry ♪ Looks like that was the biggest lesson learned here today.

Requested by Anonymous.

[calaisreno]

Consequences

Prompt: Family

This is a small sequel to While You Were Dead . It might be a bit confusing if you haven't read that story, so here's a very brief summary: While Sherlock is dead, John, working a late shift at the A&E, meets a much younger Sherlock who has inadvertently time-travelled to 2012. They sort out a few things.

This story happens after Mycroft picks Sherlock up from the A&E.

...

Mycroft takes him home. 

“Little brother.” He’s given the speech many times, understands the futility. But he can’t not tell him what he needs to hear, even if he refuses to listen. “Mummy will be told. Last time I swore I would, and I always keep my promises.”

Sherlock doesn’t speak. He’s probably still coming down off whatever it was this time. He’ll read the doctor’s notes later. It’s not the what so much as how often. It’s becoming a habit that will eventually destroy his younger brother. 

He gives Sherlock a sidelong glance. No earphones, so he must have lost his device again. Mummy will buy him a new one; for some reason she always thinks that kindness is the best consequence. He accepts that it’s the lot of the older brother never to see the younger one held to the same standards. Parents are like that; the firstborn is raised by strict principles, never indulged. Not that Mycroft ever wanted indulgence. His own life is turning out well, thanks to self-discipline. Coddling doesn’t teach that.

But Sherlock is an amalgam of different traits: impetuous, withdrawn, needy, with a restless brilliance that is in some ways more impressive than Mycroft’s. He hates to think of such an extraordinary mind wasted on things like drugs. And caring. 

“You know what will happen now,” he says. 

Sherlock turns his head, focusing those pale eyes on Mycroft. He looks sleepy, almost confused. Presses his lips together, thinking. “I’d like to go to rehab.”

Mycroft maintains control of the car. “You would like to? Why?”

His eyes are closed now, his head leaning back against the headrest. “Maybe… things can be different.”

“It won’t be easy, brother mine.”

“I know. But it might be worth it.”

“You surprise me. What’s changed?”

He opens his eyes, turns to Mycroft, smiling. “Sentiment. Caring. You’re so fond of telling me those things don’t matter. But maybe they’re the things that matter most. I don’t believe I’ll ever be perfect, but I care enough to become better than I am.”

They ride in silence for some minutes. Mycroft pulls up in front of his building. “You’ll stay with me until I make arrangements.”

Sherlock nods, steps out onto the pavement. He looks tired, Mycroft thinks, but not as unhealthy as the last time he saw him. Something has changed.

Inside, he drinks the cup of tea that Mycroft makes him. Yawning, he begins pulling off his clothes, dropping them on the floor as he makes his way to the bath. 

Once he hears the water start, Mycroft opens the envelope with the discharge papers. 

Cocaine, obviously. Not an overdose; he brought himself to the A&E. Dehydration, skin pallor, nausea. No seizures, confusion or anxiety. Slight tachycardia, BP and temp normal. He was given fluids, the doctor noted, and observed for several hours. 

Doctor’s signature: John Watson, MD. Dated: 20 November 2012

He frowns at the date. A tired, overworked doctor might misdate a record, substituting a digit or turning two around. But to write a date that’s fifteen years in the future… 

He makes a note to himself. Contact Dr John Watson. Maybe it won’t be worth the time it takes to find him and question him, but Mycroft doesn’t like untidy details. 

On the other hand, Sherlock has agreed to rehab, a hopeful development. Perhaps he shouldn’t probe. Ordinary goldfish do make mistakes. 

Wearily, he rubs his eyes. Sherlock, wrapped in a blanket and nothing else, is stretching out on the sofa, preparing to sleep. He works himself into a comfortable position and gives a great sigh. “You worry too much,” he mumbles.

Mycroft stands and stretches. A long day, and tomorrow starts early. He’ll think about this later, when he’s more rested. He heads towards the bedroom, picking up Sherlock’s discarded clothing. Piling it on a chair, he studies the lump on the sofa that is his brother.

“Good night, Sherlock.”

There’s no reply, only deep breathing. 

@lisbeth-kk @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @bertytravelsfar @momma2boys @jrow @helloliriels @the-reading-lemon @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @elwinglyre @mydogwatson @thetimemoves @jobooksncoffee @lhrinchelsea @peanitbear @gregorovitchworld @7-percent

[nahkyl]

PSG vs Toulouse FC : a balance to be found.

Ladies, Gentlemen, Gays and Theys, welcome back to another episode of The Football Thesis.

Today, we're gonna review Paris Saint Germain's game against TFC. The game philosophy seems clearer, and so do the shortcomings. It's only the second game of the season though and I won't be as cutting in my judgment as I will be five to six games from now. I also don't think we can say that the last two games are telling of what our season will look like. However, one thing is appearant : a strong team focused on collective play is in the making.

Something that seemed surprising to many was Ousmane and Kylian not being part of the starting XI. I think it was part of a strategy. If you've watched Enrique's coaching throughout the years, you know his game style is all about possession, which is what he's trying to institute in PSG and if the game against Lorient is anything to go by, he seems to be succeeding. Such game style tires the opponents out and subbing the game changers during the second period might have been a way to deliver the death blow to the opposite team. It didn't quite go as planned.

There was a clear difference between the first and second periods, so I'll cut this review in two parts.

First period : a clear game philosophy.

Toulouse was the 6th ranked team last year, and won La Coupe de France. However, despite a strong defending team which hasn't lost their first game at home since 2005, PSG stayed loyal to Enrique's principles. First period saw a similar gamestyle: the possession was ours and the pressing was strong.

However, possession is nice when it leads somewhere. Turning around the toulousin block making passes wasn't gonna make us win. And that's where it is appearant that we need a midfielder that's creative, that makes assists that have intent behind them. Warren is a gem, but he's still not experienced enough and shouldn't carry such pressure, Lee Kang-In needs to find his footing in this team, Ugarte has potential but what we need is a spark of genius. An actual #6 or #8. The owner of the first spot is left out of the squad for reasons that are sure to be extra-sportive, and the other is so phatomatic the spot might just be VACANT. It is imperative that we reinforce the midfield.

We had what was one of the three most creative players of the generation we grew up watching, and it is necessary to replace him with a strong midfield, with someone daring if we want to compensate.

What was also blindly obvious was that in today's football, which is more about transition that posession, it is necessary to have speed. Players that are quick witted, and daring. And that's where Kylian and Ousmane's entrances changed the face of the game.

For better...and for worse.

2. The second period : the shaken balance.

Here's the thing : the second period was obviously marked with more offensive opportunites for PSG, carried by Dembélé and Mbappé. But it also created an imbalance, because the counter-pressing wasn't at strong as it was during the first period and the rigor was off. Kylian didn't defend, and I'm not sure it's something he can force upon Enrique. I understand wanting to save himself for sprints, but there were missed balls that we should not have allowed the opposite team to have.

Thing is, as I said in the beginning : if we're gonna play possession, then it's with the purpose of tiring out our opponents, and disallow them from going out of their part of the pitch. If we allow counter-attacks by the 60th minute, then what's the point ?

The imbalance could also be because of the defense's repositioning which is something that makes me frown. I know it was the coach's instructions and I trust Enrique's vision but whilst strikers are used to dezone and play on the left, axis, and right, defenders don't have it as easy with their reflexes. That's why they usually keep the same spot no matter where they play.

It could also be because they were excessively eager to score, now that they finally had Mbappé and Dembélé on the pitch. They saw the opportunity to switch the game up and took it, but that ressembles the way we played last year way too much for comfort and if Enrique's words are anything to go by, he seems to agree.

L.E: “In the second half, we started to lose balls and we conceeded a goal. If we want a competitive team in the league and in the Champions League, we cannot do that.”

That imbalance ultimately resulted in the corners then the stupid penalty.

So at the end of the day, I'm actually glad Kylian and Ousmane started on the bench because it allowed us to see what it is fundamental NOT to do.

Tops :

Warren Zaire-Emery : absolute gem of a player. And I'm convinced Enrique is gonna make him one of the best midfielders of this generation. There are still some reflexes lacking but holy fuck the kid is SEVENTEEN. Incredible.

Ugarte : Ugarte's involvement the last two games has been very reassuring. He's great at pressing, and he's daring when it comes to getting the ball back, and I appreciate that.

Hernandez/Skiniar : I am SO glad we get top defenders in this team, you don't understand.

Again, I will not mention any flops because I think this is a new team that needs more time, and to get used to playing together. I will start giving flops 10 games in.

That being said.

HARD Flops :

Fabian Ruiz. This motherfucker's involvement is as neutral as non-flavored yogurt. I feel like watching Ethan Mbappé. So scolar it's like he just got out of the academy.

Soler. Listen. Solar cream is useful. Carlos Soler is not. I do not understand how this dude is not imprisoned in the loft, I truly don't.

Anyway, this was only the second game of the season and I must admit : despite the spectacle not being what it used to be, this team is more reassuring, cleaner, and I appreciate that a lot after the TRAUMATIZING season we had last year. I was happy to see a PSG that might not have been as difficult to play as it used to be, but that was still heading towards a collective that was united and strong. I don't care if we have to lose some feathers to get there long term. We're in this ride for Life anyway. When you're a football fan, winning is great, but what's better is feeling like your players are fighting for you, like you're all in the same train. This may be a season where we have an alma.

It hasn't happened since we qualified for the finale of the UCL in 2020.

To keep it short : there's definitely a balance to be found between posession and efficiency. Give Enrique time and stay optimistic.

Thank you for reading ! See you next Monday (maybe) !

[princessofmerc]

With each passing race I become more and more bitter.

I love Lewis for what he has achieved in the sport, but my goodness his fans put me off. Why do they always have to hate on George for no reason? It’s disturbing and cult like, people can beat your driver.

When he first joined the team I was so excited to see how the move benefited his career, but it’s come to the point where I want him out of it. Time and time again his teammate, team principle and members of the team throw him under the bus time and time again. I hate seeing people who rated him in Williams turn against him.

Mercedes won’t win championships any time soon and I want George to have the opportunity to do so. I can’t remember the last time I watched a race live. You know RB are gonna win the rest. Maybe next year will be better.

Lewis is a great driver. But he needs to realise that he's not going to lose by losing out against George. George was better all weekend the result may not show this in points but anyone who really watches knows. He may even be a great person. I'm personally getting the ick from the people he surrounds himselves with but let's be honest. They're all privileged and rich. Even Lewis as the only black driver. As the most succesful driver.

His fans are an abusive bunch of shit. And I mean that. With Max I didn't say a lot because I personally didn't see a lot of abuse that wasn't a direct reply to racism. And both sides were wrong. With Nicky it was unwarranted. The FIA and Red Bull are so much more to blame and for Nicky to hire security to protect his girlfriend (because he was scared of something happening to Sandy more than himself). They're visibly sending out "kill yourselves" to people. To minors. And no their excuses mean nothing. Not if we're already back to part two of the vicious cycle of dealing with team Lh. Tomorrow they'll pretend nothing ever happened.

Honestly Lewis, as long as he continues glorifying his fans the way he does and giving people the reason to believe they are right and they have nothing to fear. I'm through with him. I'm not claiming there aren't assholes along the George Russell fans. Even Alex Albon fans can get it wrong sometimes. Being a Lewis fan doesn't make you an asshole. As much as being a George fan doesn't make you a racist or fatphobic and stuff. And I'm aware that just because there are black sheep in every section of driver fans and it's generalising to claim there'S an issue with Lewis fans that I amd oing what I'm condoning.

Maybe it's being friends with someone who claimed "yeah okay that's bad but I got one hate anon by a George fan so both sides are bad". But I'm bitter. In 2021 y'all wanted him what are you so afraid of?

George showed a lot more this weekend than any driver did the whole year. He can drive on the same level as the world champions on the grid. He is the driver to look out for. He makes these mistakes and never makes them again. He takes responsibility (other than others who blame their team, the wind, George Russell, Oscar Piastri, the sun, the moon and the stars). The pace he's been showing. He's going to be a problem to so many drivers in the future. And I guess that's the issue

As for the team. I feel like something shifted today. It's small. It's maybe just a different twitter admin. Who knows. (But for Shov to not even mention Lewis). Maybe I'm delulu. But at the end of the day I don't think George should go elsewhere. Not because he couldn't outdrive any driver in their current team, which I believe firmly he could. But because I'm not sure if the teams that could help him succeed would let him. Other than maybe Williams, who after the European stretch is over are probably going to go back to the back of the midfield because that's what happened 2020,2021 and 2022. No other team would let him grow as much as Mercedes. What use is a Red Bull seat if you aren't allowed to beat Max Verstappen?

So yeah. I feel like a lot of the leading engineering voices in the team are more neutral than, say Toto. Which makes sense. Lewis had a massive impact on the success of Mercedes. But let's not forget that without a team like Mercedes Lewis wouldn't have had the success he had as well. Mercedes is one of the best teams on the grid as much as we sometimes hate it. They can win championships in the future and I feel like the people who matter know they can do it with both Lewis and George. And that George is their future.

Mercedes can be a shit place but unless Williams turns it around for the 2024 season it is the best place for George to be.

[adecila]

I think they are doing this to us on purpose...

I love this fandom, I was sad and depressed because of the 💩 ending but after reading all of this amazing jonerys fics I felt happy and no matter what I still found comfort on this.

Please I now it's a lot to ask but don't go don't let them took away this bubble of happiness (you and the others on this fandom created for all of us) from us too.

On purpose? Yes if by that you mean the purpose of doubling down on the season 8 ending and milking whatever they can from the old Game of Thrones fan base. You know, the same ones who are so easily swayed by CGI dragons and will tune in to watch The House Of The Dragon. And the ones who think that the only thing wrong with the ending was that Dany's turn was too quick (but they thought she was mad in the first place, so that's not why they're raging about the ending), the ones who wanted Jon to kill the Night King instead of Arya and the ones who wanted Jon to end up on the Iron Throne.

WE ARE NOT THE SAME WHAT THE FUCK IS NOT CLICKING

Now that I'm heated again and in light of what Emilia said, I'm gonna say this respectfully but you're giving too much credit to HBO AND Kit.

Let me refresh your memory!!!

HBO agreed to the ending we got. Have y'all suddenly forgotten?? The HBO CEO watched the rough cut of the 6 episodes and thought hey these are great

In fact HBO stood by the ending after the petition to redo the season gained worldwide popularity

HBO even thought it appropriate to insult the fans even further and stick by their ending when they gave D and D a cameo in Westworld in which they chop up Drogon

While Kit himself feared that the ending would be divisive, he thought that it was justified:

I'm not saying he wasn't traumatised because it obviously fucked with his head having to kill off his friend on screen (READ THAT AGAIN) I'm just saying y'all are mistaking his grief related to the end of GoT as to the grief for Dany's botched up story.

In fact Kit thought that Jon's ending was "really sweet" 🙃

I cannot overstate how much Kit has in fact stuck by the writing choices

Emilia saying now that this spin off (told y'all the news was real and legit, even if it the spin off might currently be in just the very beginning stages) is certified by Kit doesn't mean shit to us Dany fans!!!

Because tell me what in everything I showed you that Kit said regarding season 8 sounds like a man who would ONLY do a Jon Snow spin off in order to revive Dany and retcon season 8?? It just sounds to me that he loves the character so much he'd probably play it again in most circumstances now that he has had time to deal with his mental health.

Like an asoiaf podcaster said, who if given $10M to play Jon fucking Snow would say no out of principle?

Exactly.

And I'm not "letting them take away anything." Please. I was amongst the last women standing when the last episode aired. I was one of the few still trying to hold everyone's hand through the grief we've had to deal with. I have and still am pouring my heart into so many jonerys fics and I will continue to do so until I can't do it anymore. I've stuck with jonerys through all the shit Kit has said since the ending of GoT, I just tune him out now (after the proper rant ofc) because I really don't trust his judgement on a lot of things 😃

And before you come for me I can still like Kit and drag him for all the shitty things he's done and said. It's called nuance 🤍

Go read an old jonerys fic today and show the author some love. We don't need HBO. We don't need shitty spin offs. We've done well for ourselves for the last 3 years, this isn't going to suddenly make me love jonerys more. Thank god my love for Jon Snow (the legit one, not the s8 one), Daenerys Targaryen and jonerys doesn't depend on what Kit Harington says or does.

[grimaider]

They Were Always Allowed: A Personal Theory of TV Girl’s Hit "Not Allowed"

Hello internet, it's grim.

I just wanted to quickly thank everyone that went a read my last long post! My last post is probably the most popular piece of literary and analytical content that I have ever written, so I am happy that my writing is being seen by those in the community. As I start to write more over this year, I want a place to share my content beyond Tumblr, so if you're interested, I have opened up an Instagram account focused on advertising my blog here.

For this post, I plan to talk about another major interest of mine: Music and lyrical analysis. It's not something that I am totally great at yet, so please bare with me. Thank you.

Who Really Cares: The Inescapable Album of 2023

One of my favorite hobbies over the past few years has been rating albums and songs that I come across. It was something that I had picked up on when I was in 8th grade, and it helped me handle my emotions and stresses during a time of abuse. Now, as a college student, I rate albums as a past time, and I have come to enjoy it. In fact, a few of my college essays have revolved around music artists and the impact their music had on the world and myself.

Here are a few of the albums that I have rated over the past 5-6 months on AOTY.

Now for most albums, the rating process is fairly boring. I go through an album, pick out what songs I enjoyed and hated, and give my rating. Nothing out of the ordinary. But every once in a while, an album comes around that, for whatever reason, people on the internet flip the hell out over (regardless of whether the album is "good" or "bad").

90% of the time, I tend to wipe these albums off my list of albums to rate, typically because these albums tend to be overrated in some way, shape, or form. But in 2023, I could simply not get away from TV Girl's 2016 album, Who Really Cares. Despite the album turning 8 years old as of this year, I have still seen this album appear numerous times on YouTube shorts, Instagram stories, Instagram Reels, Twitter memes, and Spotify playlists. In fact, the reason why I even know of TV Girl is due to the fact that an ex of mine dedicated their hit song "Not Allowed" to me after our breakup. So I gave the album a 78/100 and moved on with my life (and my AOTY rating can be found here).

Fun fact: The source image for Who Really Cares originates from George M. Hester's The Classic Nude (Reddit). Arguably one of my favorite album covers of all time.

Most of the songs on the album aren't bad, and the unique sampling is extremely entrancing, but the album sounds the same throughout, with most songs lacking individual uniqueness. There were many instances in which I would attempt to write a short take on individual songs just to realize that I would be pointing out the exact same lyrics between two songs. For instance, "Not Allowed" and "For You" both use the "never intend to do what you say at all" line, which I found funny. While this could've been TV Girl using the line as a thematic or symbolic purpose throughout their album, it just felt lazy, especially since this doesn't occur in other albums that they've produced. Albums such as Summer's Over and Lonely Women were much better in terms of order, structure, and thematic principles than Who Really Cares, and neither of them have the repetition issue either.

"Not Allowed" and Misogyny : The Anthem of "Male Manipulators"

After rating and criticizing Who Really Cares back in mid-December, I didn't think too much else about it. Most of the traction around TV Girl started to die down, I started hearing their Tiktok-styled songs less, and many people started to drop the album as social media algorithms led the masses to other albums. Personally, I just liked a couple of songs and downloaded the album cover, and moved on.

A few weeks go by since I listened to the album and I decide that I want to change my profile picture on Steam. Not thinking anything of it, I changed my profile picture from Fleetwood Mac's Then Play On to a close-up of the man on the cover for Who Really Cares. Nothing too crazy, but this does go somewhere.

I hop into a good ol' game of CS2 with a few of my friends. We rage and get our asses kicked as per usual, but we eventually get paired up with another team that is more on our playing level. At the beginning of the game, everything was going well. Both teams were at about 3 or 4 points, so there was a chance of us winning. However, during the middle of the game, one of the teammates on the other team makes a comment about my profile picture being TV Girl, and claims that I was a listener of "male manipulator music." What?

I was so confused by what their teammate was talking about. What the hell is a "male manipulator?" Is it a man that manipulates people? Who is he manipulating? What does he get out of manipulating the subject in question? Or is it a woman that manipulates naive men? What does she get out of it? These questions wrapped around my brain that I had to team kill like three of my teammates to get off of CS2 to go do some research about this term.

Now from what I researched, there does not seem to be an official definition for the term "Male manipulator music." So I did what every other being on the internet does: I looked it up on Urban Dictionary.

Worst discovery ever. I listen to The Smiths, Deftones, and TV Girl so this is like my own personal 9/11.

In short, "male manipulator music" is a subgenre of artists and bands that have a fanbase of men that tend to manipulate women. Their unique yet depressing taste in music is sometimes used to reel in emotionally damaged and/or naive women into harmful relationship dynamics, hurting both the artist and their fanbase. It would be fair to argue that these men are almost like parasites to fanbases rather than part of a fanbase.

But this led me down a much larger rabbit hole regarding TV Girl that I had no run into back in December. Why is TV Girl thrown into this category of "male manipulator music?" So I went digging, and boy did I find some stuff:

(btw all the images are linked to my sources if you are interested in reading further)

Let's just say there are accusations galore about TV Girl and being misogynistic. From the lyric writing to the sampling sources, numerous cases and analyses have been written on TV Girl being misogynistic. Now, most of these are regarding different songs from TV Girl, so most of these might not apply to "Not Allowed," but then I kept running into more posts claiming that the entire point of TV Girl was to simply be misogynistic. That their aesthetic, mindset, and point of view was meant to put down women in a negative light as if men are superior, non-flawed beings. And the more I dug, the larger the accusations became.

Pack it up boys, we aren't allowed to listen to TV Girl anymore...

I was completely shocked. A song that I had picked up from an ex that helped me get through a rough spot in my life was now the target of a much larger campaign of women online claiming such music was meant to put them down? I wouldn't even care too much about the whole phenomenon, but it gets brought ALL THE TIME. And TV Girl has been making music for over 10 years.

With this rabbit hole successfully uncovered, I decided to write down the overall points that many critics point out regarding TV Girl's music.

TV Girl is misogynistic because:

Lyrics describe women in a humiliating and/or degrading manner

Songs are associated with or attract the previously mentioned "male manipulators"

TV Girl sympathizes with the male psyche post-heartbreak

Now that I had a list of reasons why people argue that TV Girl's discography is misogynistic, I am going to try my best to not only debunk these, but give my own personal interpretation of "Not Allowed," which I believe has been heavily misinterpreted and improperly characterized as an anthem for possessive, manipulative men.

Whack-A-Theory and Debunking Misogyny Claims

But before we can talk about the reasons why TV Girl's "Not Allowed" is misogynistic, we must first figure out just what "Not Allowed" is about.

According to the general consensus (aka the Internet), "Not Allowed" is a song about:

The feelings of a man who is rejected by a woman who is in love with someone else.

A man who fears to speak his thoughts on a love interest due to a fear of being socially criticized for speaking about sex.

Slut-shaming a woman who has rejected the singer.

Now, these are all very different theories, and even though they might sound similar since they revolve around a relationship dynamic filled with blurred lines, the implications of these theories vastly differ.

If any of these were MOST LIKELY to be true, it would be theory one. Let me explain:

First of all, "Not Allowed" DOES talk about sex. I'm not entirely sure why the second theory is thrown around so often in the TV Girl community, but it simply does not make any sense regarding the song. Furthermore, any basic research into the intro sample of "Not Allowed" would lead you to the feminist rap group Yeastie Girlz, which were known for their raunchy yet pro-women stance on sexual openness. In fact, the "song" that the sample is from is called "You Suck," which is a recording of the Yeastie Girlz talking about female oral sex in their album titled, Ovary Action:

For TV Girl to use such a raunchy sample in a song that is NOT supposed to talk about sex seems a bit ironic. While it could be argued that these underlying variables are meant to poke fun at the stigma of sexual talk, it wouldn't make sense for TV Girl to use those same elements as a way to insult the girl's partner either.

Take for example:

"But now he's playing with your head But did he ever make you cum?" Personally it doesn't make sense to me why TV Girl would take a jab at the sex stigma by using sexual acts to describe his bitter attitude. Furthermore, TV Girl pokes at the girl's sexual partner (or partners), singing:

"But how quickly they [the sonnets] turn sour So be careful who you screw."

Again, TV Girl's excessive use of raunchy samples and the jabs that the singer takes at sex itself doesn't add up to this theory. No one here is benefits from the negative usage of sex in the song, making this theory seem false.

While the second theory seems like complete bogus, the third theory could hold some weight. However, I think that there is more to this theory than what is presented online. While I will argue that the singer is shaming sexual actions within the song, I would say that the singer is taking more jabs at himself and the girl's current partner rather than the girl herself. Going back to the "messing with your head" lyric, TV Girl doesn't seem to take a jab at the girl having sexual intercourse with her current partner, but they seem to take a jab at the partner and how bad they might be doing at satisfying the girl's sexual needs. While one could argue that a jab at the girl's partner throws her in as collateral, the singer makes it very clear that his feelings towards himself are not great either, stating:

"I guess it's different 'cause you love him But I've got an interactive Sick and twisted imagination And that's gotta count for something" While the singer does not degrade himself to the same level that the girl's partner is subjected to, it is important to note that the girl is the one person in this entire song that is degraded THE LEAST. Not only does this disprove theory three, but it also disproves theories one and three of why "Not Allowed" is misogynistic. If "Not Allowed" was meant to take jabs at women, it would focus way more on the girl's actions rather than the singer and the girl's partner. Furthermore, the second theory on why TV Girl is misogynistic is just a lazy attempt to play the guilty by association fallacy. The only reason I would defend this argument was if "Not Allowed" was truly ripping on the girl the entire time throughout this song, which does not happen. Also, why would TV Girl use Yeastie Girlz as a sample if they wanted to push an anti-woman anthem? None of the reasons posted on TikTok make sense, and the fact that people pushed these theories regarding TV Girl's "Not Allowed" seems silly and lazy.

We Were Once Allowed, But TikTok Thinks We're Strangers

Now we are down to just one theory. I purposely held off the first theory because my theory and the first theory are pretty similar. While I do believe that the song revolves around the feelings of a man who is rejected by a woman who is in love with someone else, I believe we are hearing the perspective of a jealous ex rather than a stranger.

Let me explain:

When I first heard this song, it was after I had broken up with my ex. I'll spare you the details, but I've always seen this song as an ex that felt like he was pushed out of the way for another guy that was waiting for the girl to leave.

"Now you suck We wanna talk about sex but we're not allowed Well, you may not like it but you better learn how 'cause it's your turn now You're wasting your tongue with lame excuses and lies" This part is the singer talking about the girl, saying that she sucks. He goes onto say that they wanna talk about the sexual aspects of their relationship but they are no longer allowed to. I would argue that the singer is making the assumption that his ex is truly not over him and just hopped into a relationship for a rebound. The singer says it's the girl's turn now to hear what he has to say and that she should shut up and listen to what's in store. It could be implied that she has also gone around and spread a false narrative against the singer.

"So how should I begin this? I guess it started when you were with him. And how he never even took you out to dance But did he fuck with any rhythm?" Here we see that the singer is collecting his thoughts on when he was first made uncomfortable with the girl's new partner. He explains that the girl's partner never took her out to dance, implying that he might've during their relationship. The "fuck with any rhythm" could be taken as either him liking any music or rhythmic sexual intercourse. "But now he's playing with your head But did he ever make you cum? Did he ever make you cry?"

Moving on from the dance, the singer now leaves us with a dilemma. He claims that the girl's partner is playing with her head, which can be seen as the singer altering the truth to make the girl seem dumb, or he realizes that the girl is being taken advantage of for her partner's own sexual gratification. Personally, I'm choosing the latter. The singer then asks if her partner makes her cum or cry. Since this is in the past tense, it could be argued that this fling soon dies out or this is the current partner asking if the singer ever made the girl cum or cry, and the singer is just repeating the thoughts of the current partner.

"Do the wires in your mind get sewn together Rubbed and severed by the heat You don't know how long I could stare into your picture And wish that it was me" The singer now asks if there is a personal bond built between the girl and her partner. Based on the previous assumptions, we could argue "Yes" or "No." I would argue "yes" because the next line shows that the girl has taken pictures with the other person in question, making the singer wish that it was him. Again, this could also be seen as him feeling as if he is incapable of controlling ex or he's just jealous that she's with someone else after all that she's supposedly done.

"I guess it's different 'cause you love him But I've got an interactive Sick and twisted imagination And that's gotta count for something" Based on this, I feel like the ex might've complained about the singer's sexual habits. It might be implied here that the ex was disgusted by the singer's sexual interest towards her, but now it's different because it's someone else. The singer then gives himself the positive, claiming that his graphic imagination must be worth something.

Skipping the chorus becuase it's the same as the intro and I don't feel like repeating myself

"I dreamt I was standing in your doorstep Licking sweat off of your forehead With your finger in my mouth And the sound when leather jackets hit the ground" This could be the singer reminiscing on a past scenario in which he and the girl in question are being sensual. Nothing more to analyze. "You should hear when you're not around When it's just us horny poets Who can't wait to write it down And swear we were only being honest." I believe this excerpt is the singer rubbing the past into the face of the girl's partner. Almost like a "yeah we used to have sex too y'know" moment. It could also be the singer implying that him and his ex have made small talk since they've broken up, attempting to come to closure. Nonetheless, it's clear that this was aimed at the girl's partner rather than the girl.

"Do you like these little sonnets 'Cause I wrote them just for you But how quickly they turn sour So be careful who you screw And never call. And I'm starting to suspect You don't intend to do anything you say at all."

After taking his shot at the girl's partner, the singer seems to take aim at the girl. This time, he's offering a set of sonnets he's written about her, but they all have a bad ending. He claims that the sonnets are written this way because she had sex with him and then (possibly) ghosted him afterwards. He then finishes up the excerpt by assuming that his ex was a liar. This could be seen as the singer uncovering an abusive relationship between him and his ex.

"All by yourself, sittin' alone I hope we're still friends, yeah, I hope you don't mind." This is the part that led me to making this entire post. How could the singer and the girl "still be friends" if there was nothing else to begin with? You can't be friends with someone you never knew. This stupid verse led me to travel down a whole rabbit hole and a half just to give my own interpretation of the song, and I have no regrets. The singer is simply mocking the girl breaking up with the singer, claiming that they could still be friends and that she hope he doesn't mind, which is a common tactic that abusers might use after a relationship to hold some sort of control over their victim. This could be seen as an innocent ending to a falling out, or the ex looking for an avenue to hold onto the singer while he struggles with his own thoughts.

Conclusion

Regardless of whatever theory I or anyone on the internet come up with, I believe this song acts as a great litmus test as one's attitudes towards relationships. When I was scrolling through theories and the misogyny rabbit hole, I noticed that many people who wrote about "Not Allowed" focused on inputting their own experiences into the song, writing their theory as if the song was about their relationship. I would even argue that I did the same, and that's completely okay. I made this with the intent of simply debunking what has already been said about the song. While I think that anyone can have an opinion on what this song is supposed to represent, I didn't think any theory prior to mine was "the" meaning (as in what people should take the song as at face value). To put simply, I do not think that this song was about a male manipulator waiting to prey on his next victim, but the girl in question doesn't love him. If it was, then it wouldn't fit into Who Really Cares at all, for the album is about Brad's (the lead singer) troubled relationships with women. I think that's what people ran to because a majority of TV Girl's fanbase is women who have had shitty relationships, regardless of whether it was their fault or not. This has then led to TV Girl's reputation being about male manipulators because all the women in their fanbase simultaneously fear abusive men (and rightfully so). TV Girl simply reinforces that it could be either side's fault depending on how you look at both sides' cruel and immature behavior towards the fallout. I also found inspiration for this song analysis from NEOPUNK (it's a good listen check it out):

If you've read through the entirety of this damn blog post without knowing about the song I've been rambling about, give it a listen. It's pretty good:

And with that, I'm tired. Good night. ~grimaider.

[rhine-gold-archive]

I have never had a ship put me in tears more than Diluc x Dainself isnducgbdn if it was a movie it would be black and white, and ever scene in it is them staring out the window to the rainy gray sky jsnhxnsk its so edgy it’s comedy

Diluc x Dainsleif Film Noir AU

I knew he was trouble from the moment he walked into my office on that dark and stormy evening. Usually I’d welcome a distraction, because rain puts me in a bad mood. Well, more accurately, I’m always in a bad mood, but the rain brings ghosts from that fateful night of my 18th birthday when my life was shattered into pieces. But the sight of this one turned my bad mood into foul - he was a blond, and a platinum one too, which is the most dangerous type. He was dressed in black clothes so tight like they were painted on him. That outfit looked expensive even without an extravagant cape, and trust me, I know a thing or two about how the aristocrats dress. He had legs for days and when he sat in the chair from across my desk without asking, he stretched them out like he owned the place. He looked at me with the pale, piercing blue eyes, the same color as the aquamarines that I sold with the rest of family jewels, and said

“Hello.”

I knew he was trouble from the moment I walked into his office. It was dark and stuffy, but even the dim flickering light of the lamp could not diminish brilliance of his scarlet hair. The flashes of lightning through the half-closed Venetian blinds sharply outlined his figure. He wore a dark coat, well-made, but clearly worn out, but even if he was trying to look unassuming, he failed as hard as Celestia’s nail on my homeland. The way his shirt was styled, the way he carried himself, the haughty look on his sculptured face – it’s all screamed nobility and trust me, I know a thing or two about aristocratic bloodlines.

He didn’t answer my greeting, instead he poured himself a glass of some liquor from the open unlabeled bottle, it looked too dark to be wine and too strange to be conventional whiskey, probably some homemade alcoholic concoction of the sort that can kick Snezhnayan horse off its feet, and said curtly

“What’s your business?”

I took a sip of my grape juice, watching him closely. He didn’t answer right away, instead, he took out the cigarette case from his pocket. It looked antiquated, a genuine rare deal, and it had four-pointed runic star engraved on it. He picked a cigarette and searched for lighter. I leaned across the table and brought a small flame on the tips of my fingers to him. He raised an elegant eyebrow, but bent down to light his cigarette, looking up at me from under half-lowered lids with long thick lashes and his eerie intense eyes. Under the orange light of the cheap lamp and my own flickering fire, pale gold of his hair got sharp highlights, like the darkish wild yellow halo that sometimes appears on the edge of the full moon.

"I need something investigated and I heard you're the best private eye in town."

"Flattery. How pedestrian. If you've heard I'm the best detective, then you should've heard I'm the hardest to work with and I don't tolerate low play."

He said it with such self-possessed disdain. Looking at him, I felt nostalgic about time the many centuries ago when I was just as principled and confident that I would never dirty myself. I straightened up and took a long drag of my cigarette, looking him over. A pyro vision. Suiting for such a hot ticket. Last few hundred years cigarette butts were the only ass I was getting, and unfortunately, it was not about to change.

"Yes, I've heard that you left the police because of their corruption. But that's why I wanted you, I need to investigate a cop. I think he might be shady."

I took another sip of my grape juice. After the last corrupted commissioner was busted, Jean was performing the duty and he trusted her to keep clean. But she was so overworked and stretched herself so thin that I could believe she might have missed something under her nose. I didn't want to tangle into knight's business again, but I couldn't turn the blind eye either. Not to mention this enigmatic stranger who suddenly appears in town - and if he was there for long I'd already know - and the first thing he wants is to root out Mondstadt dirty cops? Fat chance this is a double play.

"What cop?"

I pulled a photo of the target out of my pocket. The long lost sister of my former companion suddenly shows up in this city and first thing she does is team up with some sleazy cop? Something is clearly going here, but I needed someone who knows this turf to help to get to the bottom of this.

I put photo on the table in front of him. He frowned and looked up at me sharply, scarlet eyes narrowing.

"Oh, this cop is definitely shady, I can tell you this right now free of charge."

"You know him?"

"Yeah. He's my brother."

[lentendays]

Hi!! Here's a fic-related ask: Do you have any deleted scenes/plot ideas from any of your fics that you feel like sharing? Personally, I'm a big fan of your BNHA fics, but this question can apply to any fic you want!

Okay YES I have MANY

Here are a few for the BNHA fics:

Breaking through the storm clouds: Kurogiri time travels to 17yo pre-nomu Oboro's body and raises Tenko

BTTSC Chapter 5/The Flashback Chapter/keep your face to the sun:

OK it definitely didn't fit anywhere in there with the angsty tone but I *really* wanted a scene where the league are doing Smash Marry Kill and Kurogiri, immediately and with no hesitation, says smash Midnight (or Eraserhead). He's been quiet the whole time. They almost forgot he was there. They all turn to him. "What the fuck" Shigaraki says, his innocence shattered.

More seriously, I was initially planning for Oboro to go back to school for a bit in BTTSC.

Scrapped that idea, but there was one scene where he gets stuck in combat class and goes lethal.

There's the one classmate in the Vigilantes flashback who kept mocking Aizawa for having a useless quirk (and I think the rest of the trio? Don't remember exactly). Good natured past Shirakumo shrugs it off. Kuroboro does not hahahaha. They get matched up.

He can't cut people up with Black Mist anymore, but he can apply much the same principles. Cover the eyesight, immobilize the legs. And once they're down, he brings his staff down on the kid's head. The instructor stops it just in time, redirecting the worst of the blow (though it does still land and give the kid a concussion) coz they realized Oboro was going for lethal force, zero hesitation. (He of course deeply regrets it later, but in the moment it's all instinct.)

Everyone's horrified and Oboro's just like, cool, we done here? I won, I'm leaving, I'm a teen dad I don't have time for this.

Rekindling fire: In the Hideout Raid, Endeavor dies trying to save Dabi. Dabi, who has now time traveled to his middle school pre-bbq years, finds this confusing. Also Hawks.

RF has many more comedic moments than I planned for, because the Todorokis make me very sad and I cope with humor.

At the start, before chapter 290 etc. were out, I like most of the fandom, thought Endeavor was the one who kept pushing for Dabi to be a hero at the cost of his health. So there was supposed to be this exchange:

"No? I don't want to be a hero anymore."

"You said you did last week??"

"I'm 11, I don't know what I want to be."

"....You're 13."

"Shit rly?"

In Chapter 6, where middle schooler Dabi gets arrested for alleged prostitution while he was trying to bait a guy to a secondary location to kill him. All Might is the one to find him at the station, but I had fun with a lil what if it was Endeavor:

Endeavor walks past. Doubles back. Stares from across the precinct.

"Touya? "

Several emotions flash across the kid's face in rapid succession: Panic, anger, resignation. Then he breaks into a shit-eating grin that Detective Cato will learn to dread in the next ten minutes.

"Hey there, daddy. Fancy seeing you here!" He pitches his voice to carry and if there were people who weren't already staring, they were now.

Endeavor is suddenly looming over Cato's desk, bewildered.

"Why are you here? What are you wearing?" His eyes trail down to the handcuffs. The fire flares around his face. "Have you been arrested?"

The kid - Touya - shoots a smirk at Cato. Oh God. Why is the number 2 on a first name basis with a preteen hooker.

"I'm sorry," And Cato really is, moreso for himself. Obaka is watching goggle-eyed from the desk over, surreptitiously filming Cato's pain, the fucker. "What's your relationship to this boy?"

The kid gets up, leaning into the man's side, unbothered by the flames. Grins at Cato's future therapy bills. "I'm his baby boy. Right, daddy?"

Endeavor. Doesn't refute it. He kind of glances down in confusion but doesn't push the kid away. His sidekicks, on the other hand, stare at his back with frozen expressions.

The hero breathes out a frustrated sigh. On fire. "What happened, exactly?" He addresses Cato, who blanks.

"Um," he says. The flames grow hotter. "Um, uh. Your relationship?"

Endeavor looks irritated. "He's telling the truth." Cato mentally writes out his resignation letter. "This is my son, Touya Todoroki." Which wasn't at all what the kid had said, no matter what Endeavor seemed to think.

The kid snorts and moves away, falling back into his chair.

"We, uh, we've arrested him for underage prostitution." Cato winces.

"What?!"

.

.

This was fun, might add more later. Thanks Anon :)

[crymeariveronceagain]

I'm Nobody, who are you?

stars guys i really wanted to have a thing done for this because ;-; its my tiana prompt

but life decided to fricking kill me

so here

enjoy this

whatever tf it is

Just the basic plot to some sort of fic i'll never write in all its entirety, ig ;-;

Tam Song is a love at first sight kind of guy. He sees Biana, and it's over for him. He's a fool, he's never not been a fool, and it's so odd, in his head, how his cheeks burn and his mind starts screaming.

Biana isn't the type to fall in love instantly. She'll love, instantly, because she's a person who thinks that you can love everyone, if you try, and she wants to show everyone that Vackers can be kind, not just beautiful.

But the thing is, Tam figures Biana out pretty quickly. She's the invisible child, and he gets it. Stars, does he get it. His parent's eyes always slipped past him and his sister, like they were one person, interchangeable, purposeless. So he sees a girl who fights to be seen and his mind instantly thinks, She's just like me.

And it's kind of dumb, he knows, but Biana doesn't care. She smiles at him brighter, and he makes a choice to hang out with her, to overcome the nerves that blister in his chest, to fight for the both of them, to love as much as he can.

They start dating in secret.

Of course they do, because neither of them want the consequences of dating out in the open.

Biana's parents would throw a fit, she whispers, one night, as they walk around Lothlorien, the forest city, hand in hand, hoping no one will recognize them. Tam answers that his dad would never let it go, make him break up with Biana on principle.

So they don't tell anyone. Why would they? They're happy, content, and fine as they are.

They sneak off to different places, but no one in their group is the wiser. After all, Sophie's sure that Tam's got a massive crush on Biana, but is too embarrassed to act on it.

Keefe knows they're dating. You can't lie to an empath, and he's insanely good at picking up cues.

And it's good. There's a safety in it, a gentleness.

They're kids, you know, so it's not super serious. They're taking it super seriously, though, as all teenagers do, with their most important relationships.

Biana lies, constantly, to her family, keeping people in the dark.

Tam tells Linh the truth. Someone needs to know, and Linh smiles, softly. She tells him they make a good pair.

The years pass by, war wages on, and they stay together. Through scars, through kidnappings. They hold each other's hands when they get the chance, in battle, and pretend like it doesn't destroy them to have to let go.

The first time they kiss is when Biana pulls Tam's hood back from his face and holds his face until she's sure he's alive, and as soon as he wakes up, she kisses him like there's no tomorrow.

Tam holds her like he's scared to let go.

"Don't do that to me," she wept, pulling back, "Don't you ever die on me, Tam!"

"I'm sorry," he answers, softly. "Didn't mean to scare you."

She kisses him again, and it's all a blur, on the burning battlefield.

"Uhm," said a voice, from behind them, "You two ready to get out of here?"

Shocked, the two turn and see the entire crew staring at them.

And there's a sort of terror that settles in their bones. Because behind their grinning and laughing friends, dusted with smoke and kissed with blood that didn't belong to them, Alden's behind them, and Quan is somewhere, and it's going to be so hard to explain this, and it's never going to be the same as it was.

They get up, quietly, holding hands, tight as they possibly can, their grips so tight they shake.

And they go home.

They let go at the last possible moment, clinging to the hope that they won't have to say goodbye.

Alden sets his hand on his daughter's shoulder, and they leave, first.

He gives her a talking to about matches, one that echoes in her head, richochets through her mind, about how she can never ever be someone other than what he wants her to be, and when she sits on her bed, her hands shaking, she wonders if she'll ever be free of who she is.

Tam hails her, later, and laughing, a little hysterically, tells her that his dad was actually super excited about the two of them together, because maybe it meant that he'd be going places, and doing something legit with his life.

And it's just a bit much. Everything's a bit much. Biana cries, and Tam asks if she's okay.

"My dad reacted exactly how I'd expected," she whispers, into the imparter. "There's no way this can end well."

Tam is quiet, on the other end. After a long moment, he asks, "Do you want to... break up?"

If you listened, quietly, you might have been able to hear Biana's heart shattering.

"I mean," Tam says, "If you can't date me, and you don't want to like," his voice shakes, a tiny bit, "deal with it, and you want to break up, that's..." he trails off, painfully, "I don't mind."

"You don't mind?" Biana's voice is a whisper.

Tam is probably crying. But Biana isn't sure. "If it's for the best," he says. "If it's for the best, and it's what you want, I'll be... I'll make myself be okay with it."

Biana is quiet, for a long, long, long moment.

Tam waits. He always waits. He never makes her fill the silence, never makes her be more than what she already is. She loves him, she loves everything about him.

It's that stupid, naïve thought, that makes her say, quietly, "I don't want to break up with you."

He exhales, sharp and hot, and his voice is trembling, slightly, when he says, "Really?"

She nods. "Yeah. I want to love you for as long as I can. Maybe forever. I don't know. But I can't stop loving you yet."

"But, your dad---"

"He'll have to deal with it. Since when does he---" she exhaled, sharply. "He doesn't care about me until I do something wrong, anyhow. I'd much rather love you than care about what he thinks about me."

Tam chuckled, a little bit. "Here me out," he said, then. "We keep dating in secret?"

"How?"

"Tell them we broke up. And just. Keep doing what we were doing?"

Biana blinked. "That.... that could work."

Tam snorted. "I'd like to be able to shout that I love you from the tops of the roofs, but if you want to avoid it. I'll sacrifice shouting to the world if it will make you happy."

Biana sighed. "You're too good to me," she said.

"Hey," he said, "I definitely am not. You deserve much more than I can give you."

"But I don't want to be loved by anyone but you," she said, softly.

Tam exhaled, slightly. "I don't know whether to be flattered or concerned."

"Both is good," she said. "And I don't want to date in secret. It's only gonna get worse from here on out."

"So?"

"So," she said, softly, "You're my boyfriend. We're dating. Let the whole world know."

"Okay," Tam said, softly. "Okay," and then he leaned close to the microphone. "I'm dating Biana Vacker," he told her, very seriously.

"That's not very effective," she said, "You haven't---"

"You're my whole world," he said, a stupid grin on his face, and her cheeks lit up.

"You're silly," she said.

He grinned, "Because I love you." He kissed the camera lens, on his phone, and then glanced at his door. "I think that's my father. I've got to go. I love you," he whispered, again.

"I love you," she said, louder than he did. His whole face lit up.

He hung up, and the world was quiet.

Biana went to bed, and stared at her ceiling, knowing that everything would be okay, as long as Tam was on her side.

@xanadaus

[ironborealis]

#12

Pomona has the kettle set to boil, going about her preparations to make a nice mug of rosehip tea -- just the thing to prevent the late spring cold that's racing through the Hufflepuff dormitory.

The greenhouse is far too warm for tea, but outside they're going through one of the last freezes of the year (hopefully). She'll need the fortification if she's going to make it back to the castle.

The Headmaster has this far refused her entirely reasonable request to add an underground tunnel connecting the student greenhouse with the castle -- perhaps next year.

She adds the water to her teapot as the sounds of a snowball fight draw nearer. She tries to ignore it, not wanting to spoil the fun, even if the shouting does seem a bit testy...

The smack of wet snow and crack of something solid hitting one of her glass roof panels forces her hand. The roof is charmed not to break, but it's the principle of the thing.

"WHAT IN MORGANA'S NAME IS GOING ON OUT HERE?"

She hates shouting, but needs must sometimes.

Fifteen snowballs drop from the air around five grubby first years. Thankfully, none of them are her own -- Gryffindors and a Slytherin, naturally. Two sides of the same coin playing at good and evil.

"Just a snowball fight, ma'am," the Potter boy replies, as if a chocolate frog wouldn't leap in his mouth.

The Snape boy is soaked from head to toe, and his friend the Evans girl is not only soaked but has a scratch on her cheek that's oozing blood. Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Lupin are much drier in comparison. A simple friendly snowball fight this isn't.

"Do you think me a fool, Mr. Potter?" Her eyes narrow, daring the little lion cub to run his mouth. Hufflepuffs might have a reputation for being pushovers, but there was a reason why their mascot was a badger. "You little marauders might have Professor McGonagall beguiled, but your charms won't work on me."

The Potter boy flushes and nervously swallows, avoiding her eyes. Satisfied that she's cowed him for the moment, she turns her attention to the Lupin boy.

"Four against two is hardly fair odds and that's before someone started putting rocks in their snowballs."

The Lupin boy isn't the culprit, after teaching him for most of the year she knows he's a good natured soul, but he's got a dreadful tendency to follow along with things he knows he shouldn't.

He also has no poker face because once she mentions the rocks, his face becomes briefly outraged and he glares at the Black boy.

She could, she supposed, have asked the Pettigrew boy directly, but where was the challenge in that?

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for excessive roughhousing -- Misters Black, Lupin, Pettigrew and Potter, you'll also be serving a detention with Mr. Filch." A chorus whines cuts off quickly when she raises her wand -- which she uses to cast drying charms on Snape and Evans robes. If the other boys catch a chill it would serve them right. "Ms. Evans, can you walk to the infirmary? Good, then I'll spare you the chaperone. Have Madam Pomfrey take a look at your cheek. Mr. Snape with me and the rest of you back to the castle."

She stomps the snow off her feet at entry and is pleased when the boy mimics her. She transfigures a spare nursery pot into a stool and gestures for him to sit as she summons her other mug.

"Have some rosehip tea, dearie. It's good for preventing colds." She hands him a cuppa and busies herself by adding a dollop of strawberry jam to her own. She raises an eyebrow as the boy attempts to drink it plain and barely hides a grimace at the tartness. "You can have some honey to sweeten it, if you like, even I can't drink it straight."

The boy pinks at the invitation and quickly adds two heathy globs of honey to his mug.

"This isn't the first fight you and those boys have had." She doesn't patronize him by turning it into a question.

Generally it takes at least half a year for a real vicious rivalry to set in between students -- to really "hate" someone you've got to get to know them a little first. Those Gryffindor boys, Evans, and Snape all seemed to have bad blood from the sorting onwards.

Adding to the tension was the fact that Evans and Snape were in different houses, and that Slytherin was considered Gryffindor's biggest rival. There wasn't even a convenient excuse of blood relations to provide a fig leaf of cover.

"Maybe you should spend some time making friends in your own house... Your house is meant to be your family and can offer you some protection."

Maybe with one less thing to invite a fight, Snape and Evans can get a bit of peace until those Gryffindor boys move on.

The boy's expression turns mulish as he sets his mug down and politely asks for permission to leave, which she grants with a wave of her hand.

Slughorn has been hinting to her that the Snape boy ought to have been sorted into her house. The only reason the gasbag hasn't petitioned the headmaster to re-sort Snape is likely because he knows that the headmaster will never allow it.

While she has no doubt the Snape boy would succeed in her house, the truth is that he would succeed in any house, just like every other child in this school.

[folkdances]

this is completely unfounded btw just drawing on what i've read and seen and observed but i think the reason so many cis women love stories like acotar is because it provides the illusion of power all while providing a safety net. let me explain. feyre is from the very beginning said to be very self reliant, she knows how to hunt and is capable with weaponry, because she's been tasked with the role of housekeeping for her childish, stubborn sisters and her frail, passive father. she's a painter, but she doesn't get to indulge this hobby often out of necessity as her family lives in severe poverty after losing all their considerable wealth to forces outside of their control. feyre butchers a fae disguised as a wolf and in turn is whisked off to prythian to pay off the life debt. here is the first token: having all of your arduous responsibilities taken off your shoulders. not having to feed and care for and deal with anything mundane; feyre is taken to the spring court where she lives in relative comfort and ease, having her every need met despite putting up a fight the entire way, juggling interactions with her monstrous and attractive "captor", tamlin. tamlin is rugged and battle hardened, but sjm makes sure to show us his soft side multiple times. he plays the fiddle, he tells dirty jokes to make a pretty girl laugh. he's also hundreds of years old. but he's not dangerous enough. sjm knows she needs to take this story somewhere and that readers have mostly grown bored of the quaint, pastoral balm of the spring court, so she has feyre stuffed into a wedding gown for a wedding she doesn't want to have only to be rescued by rhysand.

rhysand is sexy, he is insanely powerful, and he is a mystery, all reasons why he was the favourable candidate to tamlin. he, too, has centuries over feyre's lifespan, centuries of life experience and knowledge. he can help feyre in every aspect of her life, and in return, all she has to do is play housekeeper to his "shattered soul". sjm thoroughly established rhysand's power, both political and magical, in book one. however, she also established him as being amarantha's consort, giving him common ground ("shared trauma") with feyre. he has a soft side, she promises the reader. rhysand emphasizes that feyre can be an active player in her own life, he teaches her to read and harness her abilities. feyre becomes the high lady of the night court, a position that's never existed before, because women are not given that sort of power in this fantasy world. here is the illusion of female power: there's nothing stopping other women in this world from accruing power, and sjm prides herself on having written a feminist narrative. however, ianthe and amarantha, two of the most powerful non-night court women, are both vile and awful people. ianthe prides herself on her 'fertility', and is in text a rapist; amarantha is a tyrant and a despot who is, in her last moments, a beggar. feyre is better than them because, unlike the other two, her power was instilled through marriage. her power was given to her by tying her name to the name of a man.

rhys draws feyre in slowly with the promise of mutual respect, a home, friends with which she can have witty banter, and of course, a monster sex life, all while letting her live her role as a powerful woman in a powerful, dangerous, seductive role. i think the core principle of acotar is that a woman can be powerful all while not having any power at all; feyre is killed and remade as a high fae but with the same personality; she wines and whinges, she tries to puzzle out problems, she is the illusion of taking control of one's own life by pretending to have ducked out from beneath the patriarchy in some clever, self-made way when in fact a man was the one who saved her and her marriage to the man was what gave her a title. her decisions are driven by love for men who apart from being able to fuck her real good and have witty banter with her, have no personality and no motivations beyond a bland sense of duty/patriotism to their countries or courts. power without power. power with the safety net of a man more powerful than yourself to catch you. limited power with an unlimited illusion. and i think the reason why real-world women love this series so much despite it being a pantomime of every way it claims to be progressive and female-focused is exactly because there's none of this in the real world. in the real world no smirking well-endowed man is going to be able to kiss your cheek and tell you your problems are fixable, your trauma is completely curable, and providing a fantasy of sexual fulfillment in an unhappy or 'tired' or just normal marriage, and acotar and media like it provide a neat escape to that reality.

[anthonybialy]

Asking Buffalo Bills to Sign DeAndre Hopkins Becomes Passing Fad

A resolution may provide comfort even if you think it sucks.  Meanwhile, those pleased with the outcome shouldn’t doubly gloat.  Quietly accept the cessation of incessant demands to sign a particular untethered player under every team social media post as a prize.  The finality of a contract means replies will now be out of context for different subjects.  There will be no more demands for DeAndre Hopkins to join the Buffalo Bills.  Now, ultimatums will revolve around trading for him or signing him in a couple years.  I shouldn’t spur ideas.

Hopkins was the biggest wide receiver tease since Odell Beckham Junior.  With both of them done playing Hamlet, we can return to regular drama.  The erstwhile Cardinal is off to Tennessee, at least if Ian Rapoport is to be trusted. Let’s try giving him a chance to redeem his reputation this one time on a probationary basis.  We can return to not believing a word he posts if this transaction turns out to be an exception.

Paying for a name surely will provide the expected value.  This particular handle must provide 13 million dollars per year’s worth, for the record. Nashville adores their aging wideouts.  You’d think they were an American soccer team.

We’re all getting older.  But tricky knees only affect most people while getting off couches.  Hopkins turned 31 last month, which I’ve concluded is too old for him to be effective anymore now that he’s definitely not coming to Orchard Park.  His advocates who assure us Hopkins will play until he gets a senior discount at the cinema will be disappointed to learn they haven’t been invited to his birthday party.  Those missing a Chuck E. Cheese outing should feel relieved they don’t have to make the case for an aging charlatan.

Tennessee’s hiring manager should worry about his own job.  Nobody bothered to ask their new employee why he didn’t play until last season’s seventh game.  Mark McGwire has no clue.  A caught cheater would prefer to discuss how much he’ll achieve this season instead of why he had suspiciously limited appearance during the one before.

Signing their tormentor would’ve been one way of coping with twitchy trauma.  Buffalo’s inability to bat down a football was somehow the worst part of 2020.  I’m just starting to cultivate seething resentment on a geological scale.  His miraculously deflating answered prayer occurred a blink ago by Buffalo sports grudge standards.  I loathe Hopkins’s latest team for their felonious behavior from just after the calendar odometer flipped.  It’s unsurprising the Titans inked a player uninterested in rules.

We can only wonder what their most delicate player from the same category would’ve thought of the figurative positional addition.  Like his perfect attendance record, Stefon Diggs can only fantasize about it happening.  Adding someone with a name like Hopkins could either please Diggs for creating a distraction or irk him for the same reason.  The lack of attention will upset him either way.

This may not be the best time to add Larry Fitzgerald despite his tremendous performance.  My acumen is based in checking to see if I won Powerball.  Such valuable financial experience has led me to conclude that stockholders should sell high.  The principle applies to football, as well.  Sports offer life lessons, or in this case vice versa.  Every free agent signing is based in paying for past performance.  Some non-Bills franchise now must worry about not getting it in the present.

Josh Allen may as well start handing off the ball every snap.  Bringing in Hopkins never seemed like a Brandon Beane-style signing.  A splash on a name many fans would recognize might not bring similar excitement in September that it would in July.  

The offseason is a time for getting hyped about someone who spent infinity less time in Buffalo than Anquan Boldin.  The Bills have precisely zero emotional attachment to Hopkins.  The front office could afford to be personally ruthless in assessing his remaining potential without factoring nostalgia about his contributions.

There’s no change, which offers either ruing or relief depending on personality type.  Bills fans who were certain Hopkins would finally get this pass offense moving can now focus on how he’s entering his second NFL decade.

Evidence helps Hopkins’s case as long as he can continue meeting that precedent.  Oh, right: that’s the tricky part.  He has been impressive at separation both vertically and horizontally over a long while for two teams.  It feels like they lost at least a chance at enhancement.  But sticking with Gabe Davis while hoping Dalton Kincaid plays like a big receiver will suffice as non-Diggs alternatives.

Believing contradictory narratives is part of cheering for others chasing a ball.  Bills enthusiasts can be both certain a receiver elusive in multiple ways is about to decline like Netflix after Cobra Kai wraps and glad they don’t have to face him.  Gloating about the Patriots not getting him can occur simultaneously with feeling relieved the Bills didn’t ditch present players in order to liberate salary for Hopkins’s sake.  A trendy name is off the market, which means we’re free to stop worrying about him trending downward.  Tennessee paid to see if the routes are slower.