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chahnniesroom · 4 months

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in sickness and in health

pairing: kim seungmin x female reader

summary: you're the most important thing in seungmin's life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you. it means that taking care of you when you're not feeling well comes naturally.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, sickness (fever, feeling nauseous, etc.)

a/n: partially inspired by me being ill at work and my amazing coworkers taking care of me and making sure i didn't faint lol.

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Seungmin loves being an idol.

He loves to sing and performing in front of Stays always thrills him. He loves the other members and really, everyone else that he gets a chance to work with. At times it can be stressful, but for the most part, it’s fairly easy to manage the downsides of being famous.

But when he started dating you, he found out that there are parts of being an idol that he hates.

He always thought that he'd be different from a lot of idols and wouldn't be afraid to show his partner off. The second he met you though, he knew he'd do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe. You understand, of course, and do your part to make sure that only your closest friends and family are aware of who you're dating.

It pains Seungmin to do this, but he knows nothing good can come out of your identity being known.

The two of you are more than careful, sometimes Seungmin feels silly with how cautious he is about meeting up with you. Yet somehow his heart always feels like it will beat out of his chest whenever he sees articles that speculate about idol relationships.

You do your best to stop him from stressing, but it’s something that Seungmin can't quite shake. You're the most important thing in his life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you.

—

The first time his phone rings during a livestream with the whole group, Seungmin brushes it off. The caller ID says it's an unknown number and everyone he knows has been receiving a lot of spam calls and texts lately.

He swipes away the notification and tries to focus on just reading comments when the same number calls back, a couple minutes later. He ignores it again, but on the third call, he nudges Chan’s knee beside him and subtly tilts his phone screen so that Chan can see. His phone is on silent so nobody watching the live should be able to tell that he's getting the calls, but the timing feels too coincidental for him not to be suspicious.

"They keep calling," he says under his breath.

"We'll get someone to look into the number later, just keep ignoring it," Chan advises quietly.

Seungmin takes a quick screenshot of the number, then tries to get back into the conversation to distract himself. The next time he looks down at his phone again, someone is once again calling him.

Seungmin almost reflexively rejects the call, until he realises it's your nickname flashing up on his screen.

You generally don’t call Seungmin without warning, especially not during the day when there’s a higher chance that Seungmin won’t be able to readily answer.

[sent - 3:12 pm]

sorry baby, working right now, can it wait?

His stomach drops when you just call again in response. He doesn’t want to alarm any of the members or the fans when he doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a bad feeling about this. He once again flashes his phone to Chan briefly and leans in close.

“I want to take this, I don’t know why she’s calling, but something doesn’t seem right.”

Chan bites his lip, obviously torn for a second, before he seems to make up his mind.

“We’ve been live for almost 20 minutes, give me one second and we’ll end it so that you can talk to her, yeah?” Chan puts a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder and squeezes it tightly for a moment before clapping his hands together, effectively ending the conversation that the rest of the members were having.

Seungmin makes himself smile as they all say goodbye, but it's obvious that it's forced.

Even though the live ended as quickly as possible, Seungmin still has 2 new missed calls by the time he’s found himself an empty room to use.

"Hello?"

"Uhm hello, is this Min?" a man asks hesitantly. His voice is unfamiliar and it scares Seungmin. The only thing that brings a little bit of comfort is knowing that you’re careful to never call Seungmin by his full name when talking about him with friends or coworkers, you even have his contact information set as a nickname.

"Who is this?" he asks instead. “Where’s Y/n?”

"My name is Hyunwoo, I work with Y/n-ssi. I’m very sorry for interrupting you, but Y/n-ssi said that you were one of her emergency contacts. We tried to call with another number previously, but weren’t able to reach you."

“Sorry, I generally do not answer calls from unknown numbers. Is Y/n okay?” Seungmin swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I- can I please speak to her?”

“She’s just not feeling well and needs to go home. She’s resting in another room, but I can get her, one moment please.”

There’s a bit of background noise, the sound of footsteps, murmuring, then finally, your voice.

“Minnie?” you ask, sounding groggy. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I know you were working today.”

“Hey baby, it’s okay. You don't have to worry about me. You know that you’re more important than work to me right? I’m glad you got them to call me. How are you doing?”

“I'm tired. I'm okay, just, I was feeling light-headed and have a headache so I can't work. Hyunwoo said he thinks I have a fever.”

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up and bring you home then. Just continue resting until I get there. I'll see you soon.”

Seungmin doesn’t know what he’d do without the other members. As soon as he finishes explaining the situation to them, they’re already calling a car and working out schedules so that there aren’t any problems.

—

Hyunwoo eyes Seungmin carefully when they first meet, likely due to the face mask and hat he's wearing. When Seungmin removes the mask and shakes Hyunwoo’s hand, he's relieved when he doesn't appear to recognise him. It's not exactly a surprise, men are generally less likely to follow k-pop groups and Seungmin hardly looks like an idol when he's barefaced and in the jeans and t-shirt that he wore for the live.

“Thank you for calling me, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Seungmin says. “Sorry I didn’t pick up at first.”

“It’s okay, Min-ssi. Y/n-ssi mentioned that your work might make you difficult to contact.” Seungmin appreciates that Hyunwoo doesn’t make any attempt to pry further.

“And thank you for taking care of Y/n.”

“It’s not a problem. Y/n-ssi is a pleasure to work with and we all want her to get better as quickly as possible. Come with me, I’ll bring you to her.”

You’re lying in a small meeting room that has all the lights off and blinds drawn. The table and chairs have all been shifted to the side to fit a yoga mat that has been laid out. You squint up at Seungmin from under a mis-match of jackets with your head resting on a pillow that matches the couches that were in the reception area of your office.

“Minnie?” Your voice is soft and a little bit confused.

“Yes, it’s me, Y/n. How’re you feeling?”

Seungmin rushes to your side, crouching on the carpet so that he can cup your cheek. Your skin is flushed and hot to the touch. You reach out a hand and he clasps it tightly with his free hand.

“Mm, I wanna go home.”

“Let’s go home then.”

The company car is still parked outside of your office building, close enough that you insist on walking yourself. Seungmin tries not to hover, but he makes sure to keep his arm looped around your waist so that you don’t stumble. The drive back to your place is fairly short, but when Seungmin glances over you’re looking unwell. Maybe it’s just the dim lighting from the backseat, but you look paler than usual and your eyes are closed.

“You feeling okay?” Seungmin asks, squeezing your hand.

“A bit nauseous,” you murmur.

“We’re almost there, just take a few deep breaths through your nose for me.”

Even though it's only a few minutes before they pull onto the street that you live on, it feels like forever. Seungmmin tries to keep you preoccupied by rubbing circles into your palm. Instead of trying to help you out of the car and into your apartment, Seungmin thanks the company driver and opts to just carry you all the way in.

He helps to change you out of your work clothes and tucks you into your bed. You link your fingers together and protest when Seungmin attempts to leave your side.

“I promise I'll be back in a second, I just want to get some things to help you feel better, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You agree, but reluctantly.

Seungmin tries to stay quiet as he rummages around your apartment, gathering some medicine, a thermometer, a glass of water, and some crackers. Next he dampens a face cloth and brings everything to your bedside table, folding up the cloth and laying it across your forehead.

He supports you in sitting up slightly to take your temperature, brushing his fingers through your hair as you wait for enough time to pass. You lean into his touch slightly, humming in pleasure when Seungmin switches to giving you a light head massage. When the thermometer beeps, it confirms what Hyunwoo suspected, you have a low grade fever.

“You have a bit of a fever,” Seungmin tells you, keeping his voice low. “Do you feel up to having some water and medicine? It'll help you feel better, I think.”

“Okay,” you say, taking the pills that Seungmin hands you and swallowing them with a bit of water.

“Do you want to rest some more now? I want you to stay hydrated so I can make broth for you or get juice.”

“Do you have another schedule? You don't have to stay and take care of me.”

“I don't have to, I want to. And what did I say earlier? Don't worry about me. I'm not missing anything important.”

“So you are missing something,” you insist, your stubbornness making itself known. Seungmin can't help but find it endearing, especially the way that your bottom lip juts out to form a pout.

“Just vocal lessons. I already know how to sing, so it’s fine. Innie had his scheduled for tomorrow, the two of us are going to swap.”

“Oh,” you say, apparently satisfied by that.

“See, nothing to worry about. Now, what did you want? Broth or juice?”

“Broth,” you decide. “But that means you'll have to leave again. I don't want to be alone.”

Seungmin hesitates for a moment before reaching for something resting on the side of your bed.

“You won't be alone, Daengmo will keep you company, okay?”

Seungmin had gifted the stuffed dog to you the first time he had gone abroad after the two of you had started dating, even though it was only to Japan. You had insisted that he keep it at first, knowing how fond he was of the toy, but he had convinced you that it would prevent you from missing him whenever he was away.

“M'kay,” you say sleepily, wrapping your arms around Daengmo.

“You can close your eyes while I'm gone and I'll be back before you know it.”

“I'm not tired,” you say, although even in the dim lighting Seungmin can see that your eyes are starting to droop. “I'm going to stay awake until you come back.”

“Whatever you say,” Seungmin replies.

He leaves your room, closing the door behind him quietly, and heads towards the kitchen.

Seungmin prepares a couple of pots to make you soup. The first he prepares with some ingredients to make a simpler version of a ginseng chicken soup. He knows it'll take a while to cook though, so he adds water, powdered chicken broth, and ginger to the second. Within a few minutes, the clear broth is ready to serve.

Seungmin scoops a portion of it into a mug and slips an ice cube in so that you won't burn your mouth trying to drink it. He makes his way back to your room as quickly as he can, but careful to avoid the liquid sloshing over the sides.

When he eases the door open, he's greeted with the side of you with your eyes closed, clutching Daengmo tightly. Your breaths are deep and even, although you stir slightly when he sets the mug down on your nightstand.

“I'm here now," he reassures you quietly. “You just keep resting.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say in a small voice.

“Of course, I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 days

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Obligatory, I don't think I'm technically wrong, but I know I could be an asshole, I think I'm justified, I wanna know what other ppl think, etc,

This is mult. fandom related and I'm 25 and have been on Tumblr for approx 10 years so I'm not speaking as someone new to either Tumblr or fandom spaces

AITA for reporting art and fic as spam when it's tagged as something else in a tag I'm searching for?

This applies to many fandoms I'm in not just one so I feel no need to list them since it's not like personal beef or fandom specific drama but basically as I'm sure many people do when I want to see fan art or even the occasional fic for my favorite character I'll go into their character tag via Tumblr search, it's one of the few things I enjoy about this website is it's semi functional tagging and search system. But more often and usually lately I've been finding a lot of stuff in say character A tag that doesn't have character A in it, it's a drawing of character B that's been tagged with the main fandom tag, B, and every other main character. I know its so the art or fic gets more views but it's annoying ESPECIALLY if it's fic because not to generalize but fics tagged like that usually dont have a read more either so I have to scroll past this massive block of text that's not only a fic I'm not interested in, but one that's incorrectly tagged for a character I'm trying to find content of so they're the ones I tend to report as spam the most over art which is easier to scroll past ill admit

Even on ao3 it's a feux pas to tag characters that just "appear" if they're not central to the fic so they already shouldn't be tagging any character mentioned in their fic

This USUALLY tends to happen with people's oc posts as well and nothing against OCs they're just not my thing and if I were in the main tag I'd happily scroll by since I recognize their place but just like the other two I'll notice it's just a drawing of someone's oc or their OC's profile and it's tagged with the full main cast, thus showing up in the character I'm looking for's tag

Or character x readers and character A (and C, D, E, F, etc) will be tagged on a B x reader fic, obviously I have no interest in reading a fic like that especially when again the entire cast has been tagged not because they appear in the fic but for engagement

Also I'm not dumb I filter for fandoms so like if the tag I'm in is just "Steve" obviously I know it'll apply to multiple fandoms like Minecraft or avengers since that's a super nonspecific name/tag I'm talking about deliberate tagging within the same fandom

I also don't report the post if they're like "this is my OC his name is James Bond" obviously that's gonna show up in like the James Bond tag which while more specific would not count as spam since that's still a proper tag that would apply, it's the OC's name that just happens to be the name of another character

So, while I don't feel bad because I find these people annoying since they're obviously tagging things like I mentioned on purpose for attention but on the other hand I feel a little guilty because fan art and fan fic is important to any fandom but just, that is one of the definitions of a spam post is something improperly tagged on purpose

TLDR: I report posts in my favorite character's tag as spam when they don't have my favorite character but are tagged with them because they clog up the actual tag with garbage

#aita #am i the asshole

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lacefuneral · 6 months

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ok i've seen some posts about the tumblr alternative cohost but none that were actually helpful so!

(disclaimer: i am very new to this website. users who have been there longer can and should chime in with additions and/or corrections)

Cohost Introduction Post

What is cohost?

Cohost is a fledgling website that is essentially a tumblr clone, but with its own culture and site-specific features. It is also very much a work in progress. You are encouraged to talk in the cohost forum to suggest changes for devs, report bugs, and upvote other people's suggestions. This website WILL grow and change over time. And as such, I do not know if/when the information I share here will be outdated. Edit: To answer an ask I received, anyone can join cohost without an invite. It used to be invite-only. It is not this way anymore.

Is "adult content" allowed there?

Yes. Cohost is not on the app store, meaning that it is not subject to Apple's specifications. You can post illustrations, writing, and photographs (cohost does not support any video formats at this time, just gifs). Cohost has an elaborate filtering and trigger warning system (moreso than tumblr), and you can disable adult content for your entire account or for individual tags. I actually don't engage with the adult content at all on there. Visual CSEM (both real and fictional) is specifically forbidden (although frankly I think the guidelines could be stricter wrt written content. Still, does seem to handle this better than AO3 does, going as far to say that written content about real minors is forbidden.)

How are minors protected?

The minimum age to join cohost is 16, and requires proof of parental permission to join. Users who are under 18 are automatically age-gated and cannot view adult content.

If cohost isn't on the app store, how is it used?

You can, of course, use cohost on a computer, but it is designed with mobile in mind. Opening the website on any IOS browser, clicking "share", and then "add to home screen" will install an app for you to use. The same can be done on an android. There is a guide here.

How does cohost work?

First, you create an account. Then you wait for approximately two days (read: weekdays) for the account to be activated. This is done to prevent spam bots. In the meantime, edit your profile. List some interests, your pronouns, your other social media links. Give yourself an icon. Note: icon and banner file sizes are small. You may need to shrink and compress images.

After the two days are up, make your first post! Write a basic introduction (with what you feel comfortable you feel sharing) and list some interests you like, maybe some hobbies, media, etc. And then tag this post with "#welcome to cohost". This will let existing members know that someone new has joined, and they may initiate conversation and/or follow you.

Next, go to the search and type in "The Cohost Global Feed" and click on the tag. Bookmark this tag. This is essentially one giant community space where you can find random users. (There is currently some discourse on the website as to whether this tag existing is a "bad thing" or not because "cohost isn't supposed to have a global tag". Just ignore that lol). Next, go back to search and type in things you like. TV shows, maybe. Video games. Music. Anything. See if people have posted in the tags. Follow them. Comment on their stuff. Click "like" to bookmark the post if you want to.

Most crucially, make sure that you bookmark the actual tag so you can look in that tag again later without having to manually type it each and every time. Also, you get a feed called "bookmarked tags" which allows you to scroll through all of them at once, which replaces the "for you" feature other websites have.

You can "share" a post (called "rebug" in user slang) which serves the same purpose as a reblog on tumblr. In a rebug, you can add your own tags or comment in the body of the post. Cohost users do not talk in tags as much as tumblr users - they tend to prefer to speak in the body of a rebug, or in the comment section (replies). At this time, you cannot view all reblogs. But you can view all comments in the comment section. Any post that is rebugged will preserve the tags of the OP, with any additional tags added being attributed to you. Rebugs are named after the website mascot Eggbug, a purple bee-like insect.

Posts are called "chosts" - and shitposting is called "shitchosting." Two examples of global shitposting tags are "#css crimes" - which is when a person does goofy things with the HTML/CSS editor to make colorful text, fake chat windows, and such - and "#shitchosting" which is a general shitposting tag. I've also seen people use tags like "#random".

If a post makes you laugh, check out the OP's profile. See if they post frequently, and if you have any common interests. If you realize you want to block or mute someone instead, you can.

You can send asks just like on tumblr, but your inbox must be manually opened first. So remember to do that.

How do I look at my own blog?

This is one of my gripes about the UI. You would think, intuitively, you would click here (at the top of the screen). But you would be wrong!

It is ACTUALLY under the sidebar menu, called "Profile." And I'm not the only one to to complain about this. (To get back to your dashboard, by the way, you click on the cohost logo.)

Are there sideblogs?

Yes! Each sidepage (sideblog) has its OWN set of likes AND followed pages (blogs). This allows you to easily switch between multiple sets of dashboards. A lot of users use this to have a SFW dashboard and an adult content dashboard. But it works like tumblr, too. You can have a side page/dashboard for whatever you'd like. Maybe one of your pages is for programming. Maybe another is for photography. You switch between your pages by clicking the arrow next to your icon/username at the top of the screen. ("Ohhhhh.... THAT'S what that's for.")

What's the userbase on there like?

Mostly programmers. Trans people. Furry artists. Plural systems. Furry trans plural programmers. Certainly a lot of shitposters. The website is trans-run and, as such, has zero tolerance for TERFs. Everyone seems pretty friendly from what I can tell. And there's very much a culture of "follow someone randomly based on their vibes" that doesn't happen as much on tumblr. Tumblr is more like "I really like this TV show, I'm going to follow 40 blogs about just this interest." Because the cohost community is so much smaller, there is a lot less content overall, especially fandom content. You can't follow 40 fandom pages because your fandom tag has a total of 3 posts, all made by one person approximately a year ago (well. for me anyway).

Cohost, then, actually has much more in common with real-life socialization. You seek out people with interests that may be very different from your own, and to find a common interest is very exciting! Unlike tumblr, you are encouraged to tag as much as possible. This allows your posts to be seen, to find common interests. And, of course, don't forget to look in "#Welcome To Cohost" too! You may find some new friends there.

What file formats can I post in?

Currently, I am aware of basic image formats working (like jpeg, png) animated gifs, and mp3s. You currently cannot upload videos to cohost. I believe the reason is not related to server costs, but rather as a way to curb the uploading of copyrighted content.

How does cohost make money?

There are no ads, and yet, as far as I am aware, cohost is operating comfortably. There is, however, an entirely optional "cohost plus" that is $5 USD a month. Currently, there are a few perks, but not enough to convince me.

What if I think something about cohost should change?

Cohost has a forum where users can submit ideas for features and other users can discuss/upvote those ideas.

Here is a list of posts made for newcomers to read:

#long post #cohost #tumblr migration #tumblr alternative

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humanpurposes · 9 months

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Just for a moment, part iii

Tom Bennett has a habit of climbing through her bedroom window whenever he's in trouble // Main Masterlist

Tom Bennett x OFC

Warnings: 18+, mentions of war and death, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut, Tom Bennett's daddy issues

Words: 5400

A/n: Also available to read on AO3.

Monday 27th May, 1940

The morning starts off with a miserable drizzle. Kitty watches the grey fade to warmth through her shift, until the early evening sun shines brightly through the wide windows of the shop.

The month of May has very much been the same, cold and wet at first, but the weather has been clearing up nicely. Dad is devoted to the garden now, digging up the grass and planting vegetables in every free space he can. It’s on posters all over the shop: Dig For Victory. Live off spuds and SPAM when the rations run out.

Life feels mechanical; most days she doesn’t feel like a real person at all. All week she stands behind the counter, exchanging coupons for pitiful amounts of tea and sugar, stocking up the rack of newspapers and skimming over whatever horrors the headlines are screaming about that day. When she gets home, she pulls together some kind of dinner from what food they have while dad sits by the wireless. When mam gets home from the munitions factory, they gather around the table and eat in silence.

The house is so quiet without the boys. The only time it feels a little lively is when they get a letter from one of them, but they aren’t very consistent, especially considering there’s three of them.

Every so often, she gets a letter from Tom Bennett, but she tends to keep those to herself.

Her life has become a waiting game, she realises, existing between brief moments of happiness with nothing but her memories to entertain herself. She finds herself thinking about Tom an awful lot. It’s not so bad during the day when she has something to do, but when she lies alone at night, her mind can wander. She still leaves her window unlocked and huddles close to the wall because maybe— just maybe, he’ll come through the window and fill the space beside her.

Once she’s packed up the register and put up the shutters, she waves goodbye to Mr Gregory and leaves him to lock the door.

She runs into the postman at the top of Slade Grove. She feels slightly less guilty for not remembering his name when he greets her as “Catherine.” It’s what her teachers at school used to call her, and it’s what mam calls her when she’s in a particularly foul mood. Now it just puts her on edge.

“Can I give these to you now?” he says, handing her a stack of three envelopes. “Saves me a house later on.”

She flicks through them as she carries on walking. Two are addressed to Michael Wheelan and they look boring, letters from the bank or something official, but upon seeing the third she stops and smiles.

Miss Catherine Wheelan 28 Slade Grove Longsight, Manchester United Kingdom

It’s written in Tom’s handwriting.

She tears it open immediately, her eyes flickering between the page and the street ahead, weaving through any passersby.

Dear Kitty,

Sorry it’s been a while since the last one. Morale hasn’t been the best to be honest. Do you know what they’re calling the last eight months now? “The phoney war”. Apparently things are only going to get worse from here, not that it’ll help your nerves.

Thanks for checking up on dad for me. I do worry about him being on his own, with Lois being away and all. I wonder if she’ll be back yet by the time you get this. Have you heard much from your lads? I hope they’re doing alright.

You’ll be pleased to know I haven’t been picking as many fights, but sure you know me, sometimes I can’t help myself. I’ve been reading over what you said. I know it’s not helpful, I know it’s stupid, but then I’ve never been one to think things through, have I? I suppose that’s not much of an excuse. It’s instinctive. It’s like my head tells me what I’m doing is wrong, but I don’t know what else to do.

And we could die any day. Kitty, the state I’ve seen some of these men in…

The writing becomes crooked and trails off, ending with a smudge of ink.

Maybe I should write about something less depressing? Did I tell you about this gorgeous bird I met at Port Stanley?

Kitty’s heart drops.

Beautiful thing she is. The moment I saw her I knew I had to have her, so I stowed her away and brought her on board with me. She whistles a lot, and she has these lovely yellow feathers that really brighten up the bunk. She’s a noisy eater though, munches on seeds like she’ll never eat again. I’ve named her Vera.

I can see the look on your face now. Don’t worry, pretty Kitty, there’s no other bird that could ever replace you.

“Charming,” she mutters to herself.

I think I quite like these letters really, it’s nice to give myself a moment to think, even if I can’t hear from you straight away. That’s when I miss you the most, right after I’ve sealed the envelope and written your address. I hate the waiting.

She glances up, seeing she’s only a few doors down from her house.

I should have leave coming up soon. I’m looking forward to putting my legs on dry land and sleeping on a proper mattress…

She checks the top of the page. The letter is dated from weeks ago. “Soon” could mean anything.

… and the odd late-night tryst to see my fancy woman at number 28.

She scoffs a small laugh.

I bet you’d slap me for that. God I hope your mum doesn’t get her hands on this before you. Ey up Mrs Wheelan, see what I meant was, your Kitty’s a very well-mannered lady.

She purses her lips in an attempt not to laugh, coming to stop before her own front door.

Take care of yourself Kitty. Don’t spend too much time fretting over me.

Your dear friend,

Tom Bennett

Her smile fades quickly— why shouldn’t she worry about him?

It’s always the same with letters from Tom. Her heart leaps and for a few brief moments she feels so bright, just to have some kind of news from him. She could read pages and pages of his stupid ramblings and his moments of sincerity, but then it’s over all too soon. He signs off as her dear friend, then suddenly the words on the page are no longer new, and he’s still thousands of miles away, picking fights with his crewmates and launching shells at German ships.

The days pass slowly, but when she stops and looks back, the eight months have felt like nothing. Her life is flying past her and she hardly even notices, too caught up in the memory of those nights in September.

All for him to call her his fancy woman and feed her jokes about birds.

She knows better than to get her hopes up with Tom; she’s seen him go through every crush he’s ever had. He used to go through phases of ditching her for whichever sweetheart he was entertaining at the time, only to come crawling back to her when he’d inevitably cock it all up. Because he’s Tom Bennett, and he can’t help but make a mess of everything.

And like a good friend, she always kept her window unlocked for him, always held him when he needed it and did her best to set him straight. Because that’s what friends are supposed to do, surely, and he never said they were more.

Is that truly all she is to him? A dear friend, a listening ear and a convenient shag.

She rubs her fingers over her eyes because she will not cry over Tom Bennett. With the letter back in its envelope, she puts it into her bag and tries to find her keys, when she notices the smell of cigarette smoke. It’s hardly a rarity, but it makes her think of him.

For whatever reason, she glances over her shoulder at number 27. Low and behold, she sees a man with a cocky smile in a tight, white t-shirt, leaning in the doorway, lowering a cigarette from his mouth.

“Alright, pretty Kitty?” Tom says. “Was waiting for you to notice me–”

Suddenly she’s flying across the street and flinging her arms around his neck. She stands on her tiptoes to put her head over his shoulder and he leans into her, holding one arm over her back and one around her waist.

She closes her eyes. His breath is hot against her neck. He is here. He is real. He is more than a memory or words on a page.

Tom presses a soft kiss to her temple and she feels him smiling against her skin. “Take it you missed me then?”

She pulls away, holding back the urge to cry again, hardly able to catch her breath. This close, she can see every detail of him this close, the texture of his skin, the lines around his mouth and brows, the circles under his eyes, the scruff along the sides of his jaw, the little cleft on the tip of his nose. “Maybe a little bit,” she says.

She gives a little yelp of surprise when she feels him pulling her into the house. He closes the door behind them and then her back is against the wall, her handbag dropped by her feet.

Tom shrugs her coat from her shoulders before he surges in to kiss her, fiercely, desperately. Their bodies are tangled in one another, her hands in his hair, his tracing over the curves of her body through her dress.

And then he moves away. She tries to follow him only to realise he’s smirking.

“Missed me just a little bit?” he teases.

She wants to roll her eyes, but she just smiles. “Quite a bit.”

He drags his thumb over her lower lip, pulling it down to watch it come back into place.

Kitty huffs impatiently as she nudges her nose up into his.

Their eyes meet and the anticipation lasts a lifetime.

Tom hums as he leans in to kiss her again, slower and deeper, pressing her a little further into the wall by the firm hold on her waist.

“Missed you,” he utters between kisses, “so fucking much.”

She runs her hands over every part of him she can reach, his neck, the sharp line of his jaw, over his ears and into his hair.

“How long have you been back?” she breathes.

“Since this morning,” he says, coming to kiss her neck, the spot he knows will have her back arching against him.

“You didn’t come to the shop,” she says.

“Wanted to wait for you.”

She glances down the hallway, to the seemingly empty kitchen.

Tom huffs and pulls away from her, leaning with one hand against the wall. “Dad’s flogging his paper. Lois is out. Empty house for a few hours.”

She turns her head back to face him, pleased at the flush in his cheeks and the mess she’s made of his hair.

Tom’s eyes look down to her waist, where he presses his thumb into the fabric of her dress. “Come upstairs,” he says lowly, “I want to fuck you properly.”

She nods mindlessly, closing her hand around his as he leads her up the stairs, to a bedroom with two single beds, separated by a curtain. The room is about the same size as the boys’ bedroom in her house, but with only two beds, there’s enough space for two separate wardrobes. Her brothers make do with sharing everything.

Nothing about the room denotes Tom Bennett, not the floral wallpaper or the knitted throws on the beds. Not the books, perfume bottles and silver candelabras on the mantle, and certainly not the lingering scent of hairspray.

He leads her to the bed furthest from the door. She follows the stream of sunlight coming in from the window, and then she notices the details that are his. The ashtray and the empty beer bottle on the bedside table, the ditty bag and the pairs of boots at the foot of the bed, and the sailor’s hat left on the floor by the wardrobe.

The door closes and his footsteps tread softly behind her. His hands snake around her waist and turn her to face him.

She places her hands on his chest, running her hands over his torso, mapping his body through the soft cotton t-shirt. He feels firmer than he used to, a consequence of loading shells into guns and living off rations. She feels along his arms too, over muscles, veins, tendons and the scar below his bicep.

Tom presses a kiss to her forehead before he starts to undo the buttons on the front of her dress. A familiar restlessness rises in her belly, and suddenly she thinks she can’t bear to wait another moment. With the buttons undone, she puts her hands over Tom’s as he slides the dress down to the floor, along with her stockings and quickly slips out of her shoes.

She wastes no time unclasping her brassiere and muffles Tom’s awestruck groan by pressing her lips to his.

Somehow he manages to rid himself of his t-shirt and slacks without parting from her for too long, and he guides them both to the bed. She giggles as he lands on top of her and the metal bedframe squeaks.

“Now,” Tom says, pressing a delicate kiss to her neck. “Don’t have to worry about being quiet like we usually do, do we?”

“No…” Kitty breathes as he moves down, dragging his lips and tongue down her body. When he comes to her breasts, he cups one with his hand, and takes the other nipple in his mouth. Her head rolls back against the pillows but she brings her eyes back to him. She wants to cling to every moment, every sensation, all the movements of his tongue against her skin and his hair falling in front of his face.

“Eight fucking months,” he half growls as he moves further down, kissing along her stomach and running his hands over her hips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

She instinctively bites her lip when he ghosts his lips over her clothed cunt.

He tuts. “Don’t hold back on me now, sweetheart. I want to hear how much you missed me,” he says, curling his fingers around the hem of her underclothes before dragging them along her legs, leaving them somewhere on the floor.

He trails teasing kisses along her thighs. She squirms and whines every time he edges closer to her centre, until finally, he drags his tongue through her folds, from her entrance, up to her pearl with a deliciously agonising pressure. She doesn’t hold back the moans that sound in her throat, curling her fists through the bedsheets.

He works over her pearl with his tongue and lips, groaning against her as he does it and squeezing his fingertips into the flesh of her thighs.

It’s been so long since she’s felt like this, even on the nights when she felt herself getting too desperate, she can never quite match the feeling.

In a way it infuriates her that he can make her feel so good, but what’s worse than that is that he knows it. She can see his smug, half smile as he mouths at her cunt, so pleased at the noises she makes and the way her hips are starting to move against him.

She curls in on herself as her peak washes over her, but he manages to hold her down, right where he wants her, and keeps going until her whole body shudders and her legs are quivering.

“Fuck,” she breathes, “Tom…”

Even then he doesn’t give her much of a reprieve. He moves back for a moment before he positions her legs over his shoulders. His tongue is against her again, only now he moves lower, teasing over her entrance.

She whines impatiently.

“Fucking greedy, aren’t you?” Tom chuckles. He licks over her again— too much and not enough. “Just take it, take what I give you.”

But it doesn’t take long for him to slip his tongue inside her while his nose nudges against her. His name is a dreamy chant on her lips now. The pleasure rises and burns until she’s sure she can’t take anymore. She threads her fingers into his hair, gripping at it, urging him on, just a little more, and she’s sure she’ll fall apart.

Then he’s gone without warning, but he soon compensates the loss by replacing his tongue with a single finger.

Tom gazes up at her through his lashes. He keeps his eyes on her face as he pushes inside of her, deeper, deeper, until she takes a sharp intake of breath when he finds her sweet spot.

“Give me another one,” he groans, lowering his head down to circle his tongue over her. “Come on, pretty Kitty.”

She follows it like a command. Her second peak is sharper than the first and has her gasping for breath as she feels herself come undone around him.

“There you go,” Tom grins as he brings her legs from his shoulders and starts to make his way up her body.

He props himself over her, one hand on either side of her head. His silver chain, usually hidden below his shirt, dangles in front of her as their eyes meet. They breathe together, chests rising and falling in perfect unison.

He hesitates for a moment, before he places a lazy kiss to her lips. “God,” he utters, “you’re so fucking gorgeous, do you know that?”

“Just keep saying it,” she says.

He takes one of her hands and guides it down to his briefs. She traces her fingers over the hem before she slides underneath and wraps them around his already hard cock.

“Fuck—” Tom hisses through his teeth, his brow furrowed and his jaw tight. He reaches for the bedside table and hands her a condom. “Do the honours for me,” he grins.

She tears it open and reaches back down to slide it along his length.

Slowly, he lets his weight fall against her as he slides inside of her, burying his face into her neck and letting out a shaky breath against her skin.

She brings her arms around his shoulders as he rocks into her, gently at first, but she can feel that it’s not enough. His breaths are getting sharper and his thrusts harsher as he whimpers into her neck.

She holds him as tightly as she can, hoping it will somehow soothe the ache in her heart, because she still feels the absence of the last eight months. Because she can already feel the time slipping away.

Tom withdraws from her neck. “Look at me,” he pleads.

She does, and he brings his forehead to hers. His nose presses into hers and their lips barely brush over each other.

“You feel so good,” he says. His expression fades into something darker and more determined as he fucks her harder and faster, “so fucking tight.”

She feels it too, the urgency to make up for the time and the distance with a carnal need.

They reach their climaxes together, moaning into each other’s mouths and keeping their bodies tight together. It never feels close enough.

Once they’ve caught their breath and they feel their desire mounting again, Tom lies back on the bed and brings her to straddle him.

While the position isn’t unfamiliar, the movements are, but she’s eager enough, gauging both of their reactions as she grinds her hips against his. She goes slowly, at first, bracing herself against him while Tom keeps hold of her waist to guide her movements.

“Nice and slow, just like that,” he whispers, gazing up at her with a slight smile, “show me how much you missed me.”

She doesn’t care how the bed creaks under them, that she’s breathing and moaning too loudly. There’s something freeing and unashamed about how they fuck. Seeing Tom’s face twisted in pleasure and hearing his needy whines as he starts to buck his hips to match her movements.

And when another climax tears through her, she wishes she could drag the moment out forever.

Tom takes her in his arms as they collapse back on the bed.

She feels like she’s dreaming, not quite awake but still aware of whose arms are cradled around her, whose heartbeat she feels against her ear, who reaches for a packet of cigarettes and flicks his lighter.

They talk about things they’ve already discussed over letters, the bloody war and all the misery that comes with it. Life in Longsight seems dull in comparison to Tom’s tales of sea battles and antics on board the Exeter. But even in the middle of the Atlantic, in the midst of a war that’s consuming the whole world, he still found time to wind everybody up. She can’t tell if she hates him or admires him for it.

There’s something different about him. Where he used to sound so cocksure and carefree, his voice is duller.

Tucked under his shoulder, she shifts her head to get a better look at him, propped up against the pillows, taking drags from his cigarette, pouting his lips as he exhales the smoke and tapping the ash into the tray. Her eyes tell her it’s the same person, the same jaw, the same nose, the same lips, the same shade of blue in his eyes.

No… he looks different in the way his face falls. He seems less smug than he used to be. He seems tired, older, colder.

Of course he’s different, how could he not be? The war has reached every corner of the world, but he’s been in the thick of it.

“Your dad must be glad to have you back,” she says quietly.

Tom’s body tenses underneath her. He brings his cigarette to his lips again, giving a little irritated huff as he exhales. She wonders if that’s a thread she should avoid tugging on, but it already seems to be unraveling. He reaches to stub the cigarette out in the ashtray.

“I didn’t want to go back,” he mutters, his expression stern and sad. “I thought I was doing the right thing by going. I’ve spent enough of my life making a mess of everything, I thought if I did something good then…” he glances down at her, then shakes his head. “But I was so fucking scared—” his voice breaks his eyes are glistening.

Kitty sits up and clenches her hand around his. He’s trembling.

“You’re alright,” she says, softly, “you’re alright.”

He breathes quickly and she can feel his heart thundering in his chest. His descriptions of the attacks on the Exeter and the aftermaths had been brief, which she thought must have been a way to protect her from it on his part. Maybe he didn’t want it in writing, maybe he didn’t want to think about it once he had lived it, to be surrounded by fire, smoke and death at every turn.

“I thought dad would help me. I told him I didn’t want to go back, I thought he could help me somehow.”

“And what did he say?”

His nostrils flare as he huffs again. “He thinks it’ll be a bad look for the movement. He doesn’t think I’m genuine.”

Kitty strokes her thumb over his knuckles and his fingers tighten around hers.

“For a moment I thought he’d be pleased,” he says, his voice thick and coarse, “just for a moment.

She breathes through the tight feeling in her chest. “Maybe if you spoke to him again—”

“No,” he says bitterly. “Made up his mind now. Sure, what does it matter either way? I’m not much use here.”

The light feeling in her limbs is starting to fade. She feels solid and heavy where her body meet the mattress.

“Your dad needs you,” Kitty says, “and Lois.”

He scoffs.

“Don’t tell me you’re upset with her too?”

Tom frowns. “Stupid fucking mistake. What does she think she’s going to do now?”

“She told you then?”

“She sent a letter.”

Lois had called in a few weeks ago to tell them the news. Mam already had her suspicions, even though Lois was barely showing. She and dad were horrified, but of course they didn’t make that clear until after she had left. “A baby on the way and no husband, for shame.”

“She knows it was stupid, but she’s not asking anyone else to deal with the consequences,” Kitty says.

“All because she wanted to mess around with some posh boy.”

Kitty swallows down the dry feeling in her throat. “I don’t think what she did was much different to me and you.”

Tom looks down at her with wide eyes. “Me and you are different,” he says.

“How so?”

His lips shift, like he might say something, but he doesn’t. “I don’t know, I thought Lois was more sensible than this.”

“She’s certainly not done herself any favours, but you won’t help by being angry at her.”

“But she’s always been the responsible one, you know?”

“That’s not fair, Tom, she’s your sister not your mother.”

Tom stares up at the ceiling with his lips parted. “No… I suppose not.”

He turns his head into her. “I should never have gone in the first place.”

There’s lots of things that she thinks she would want to change. Sometimes she wishes Tom wasn’t so reckless and impulsive. She wishes he’d find an interest that wouldn’t end him up in trouble with the police. She wishes he really was a pacifist, and that way he would be here, and the only thing separating them would be a single street and two windows. It hurts to think of what could have been.

But those things cannot be changed, and even then, he wouldn’t be him. He wouldn’t be the Tom Bennett she’s adored for as long as she’s had memories of him.

She shifts against him, hooking her arm over her chest and her leg over his hips. “I know things are hard,” she says. “Just don’t leave them on a bade note. You’ll regret it if you do.”

They don’t speak for a while. The evening drags on, the sun dips lower in the sky, voices and the shouts of children sound from the street and Kitty is content lie beside him, listening to his heartbeat and his slow, controlled breaths, while he plays with her hair.

“I love you,” he breathes, so softly she thinks it might be a voice in her head. “When we got hit, it was all I could think about. That I might die then and there, and you’d never know.”

She feels her mouth break into a smile. “You love me?”

“Oh leave off, I’ve said it now,” he says with a grin.

They dress and he leads her downstairs to the kitchen. While he fusses with the kettle, Kitty takes a seat at the table.

“You’ve not met Vera yet,” Tom says over his shoulder, nodding at the small birdcage on the table. Inside, a little, yellow canary with black, beady eyes tilts her head and chirps.

“Hello, Vera,” Kitty says.

Vera chirps back.

Tom turns back around with a single cup of tea and a plate of toast. “Have to be stingy with the butter and milk, obviously,” he says setting them in front of her.

“Oh,” she says, “no, I won’t have any, don’t waste your rations on me.”

Tom angles his brows at her. “It’s not a waste.” He takes a seat in the chair opposite and lights a cigarette. “Come on, you’ve been on your feet all day.”

She hesitates before she reaches for the milk, spilling the smallest dash she can manage into the cup and skipping the sugar. Then she takes a cut of butter no larger than her thumbnail and spreads it across the toast. She takes a few tentative bites, ushering some back to him and tearing off a few crumbs to feed to Vera. Even the most mundane parts of life have become luxuries now.

“How long are you back for?” she asks.

“A week.”

“And then?”

“Off to Dover. They’ve got some big operation planned.”

“And will you be back after that?”

He draws his tongue between his lips. “I don’t know.”

Before long, the front door unlocks and Lois’ heels click through the hallways as she comes into the kitchen. “Dad not back yet?” she says, tossing her coat over the banister. She stops at the head of the table and looks between the two of them. She’s holding a brown paper bag. “Hello, Kitty. I’ve just been in to see your mum.”

“Oh she’ll be wondering where I am,” Kitty says, glancing across to Tom.

His chin is tilted down, and he looks up at her through the smoke with pleading eyes, like an injured puppy.

“Tell ‘em the Gregorys invited you up for tea,” Lois shrugs. She reaches into the bag and pulls out tiny pieces of clothing that are vaguely familiar to Kitty. “For the baby,” she says. “Thank God your mum kept all your old stuff.”

“Make do and all that,” Kitty says, briefly catching Tom’s eye.

She downs her tea and hurries to the hallway. Tom had left her coat over a sofa in the front room, and her bag is still on the floor. She tuts at his carelessness and shouts a farewell to Lois as Tom comes to see her to the door.

“Thanks for stopping by,” he says formally, with the corners of his mouth curled.

“Of course,” she replies, peering round his shoulder to see if Lois can see them.

Tom looks round too and smiles back at her as he leans into her ear. “A pleasure, as always, pretty Kitty.” He catches her lips in a quick peck before he opens the door for her.

She hurries across the street and finds her keys in her handbag. Before she opens her own door, she looks back to number 27. The glow of the spring evening beams off the red bricks of the houses and Tom looks golden, watching her through the haze of smoke from his cigarette.

It’s like before, all those months ago, before he first went away.

Each night, Tom steals into her bedroom. They kiss as quietly as they undress each other and set themselves down on her bed.

It gets more unbearable with every day that goes by. Each hour is an hour closer to carrying on with her life without him, when he’ll become another person to wait for, another reason why she wants this war to end.

On their last night, he fucks her from behind, keeping her mouth covered and muffling his own sounds in the crook of her neck. His breath and the hold on her mouth only makes her more desperate.

If anything, that first evening has ruined her, going back to gentle lovemaking is excruciating.

She quietly pleads for “more… more…”

Tom clamps his hand tighter around her mouth. “No, no, no, be a good girl,” he whispers harshly, “just be a good girl for me, Kitty.”

Once they’re both too tired to carry on, he wraps his arms around her. He tells her he loves her, and she says it back.

Dover is closer than the Atlantic at least, but the distance is all the same. He’ll still be gone.

She watches him as he dresses and follows him to the window. Before he leaves, he kisses her, deeply and desperately, pulling her still bare body against him.

When they move away for breath she gazes into his eyes. She could never forget them, the storm of blue and grey rings around his pupil, but he already feels like a memory, something intangible, there but not quite.

He presses a kiss to her forehead and his lips linger there. “When I get my next leave, I’ll come straight to you,” he says.

She doesn’t doubt it’s a promise he’ll keep. Tom Bennett doesn’t often make promises to her, but so far, he’s never broken one.

Tags (comment to be added to either)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya

Series taglist: @hanula18 @azxulaa @whoknows333

#my fics #tom bennett #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fanfic #world on fire #wof #world on fire bbc #world on fire season 2 #world on fire fanfiction #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x female reader #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennet x reader #ewan mitchell #tom bennett smut

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dianamoth · 3 months

Text

Project Copy-Knight

Hi tumblr,

I woke up this morning to a new AO3 comment on my most liked Naruto fic, but this comment was unlike any other I ever got before. It will interest fanfic writers around, especially anime fanfic, so allow me to share it:

Hello, Unfortunately, your work may have been stolen by content farms to create YouTube videos here: (link removed by dianamoth) If you have granted permission for this uploader, you can safely ignore this comment. If not, you should report these videos here: DMCA Complaint Form. You should re-confirm the video contents before you file the report. Note that only the original creator for this work can submit a complaint. When filing the complaint, do not select the "Scheduled: Send a 7-day notice" option, or they won't get a copyright strike from you. We recommend that you do not negotiate with the channel before-hand. Remember to include a link to your work in the 'Title' section of the complaint form. Channels like this have stolen many more works from other writers as well, so your efforts in reporting this channel will also help other writers. See full list of stolen works here: Google sheets Your authorship was identified a while ago by an automated detector under Project Copy-Knight, but for anti-spam reasons we could not inform you until we have manually confirmed each case. If you would like us to notify you as soon as possible, please include this text in your profile page to grant us permission. To prevent a build-up of our notification comments on inactive accounts, we will only send you a maximum of 3 messages before you grant us permission. This is message 1 out of 3. This message was sent automatically, but your case was manually confirmed, and replies to this comment are monitored. If you need additional guidance on how to take the video down, just reply to this comment. To learn more about what we do, please read this article or join our Discord server. From Project Copy-Knight, EsquireBot

I did not give consent for my fic to be used on youtube, ofc.

I was skeptical at first (for context, I write OC Naruto fanfics, who the hell would be interested in that on youtube, I thought?), but this is a well-crafted message with all the ways to verify this claim, so verified it I did!

And hello and behold, this is all true! I'm Amazed. This Project Copy-Knight is quite impressive, it seems well organized and everything, so I thought I would share the word about their existence so that people are aware that this is a problem that exists, that someone is working on it, that it's not spam, and how you can participate, etc... I recommend checking the article they mentioned and the Discord server if you have time to help.

Also, for those who might be in the same case as I and want to report a youtube video (because obviously I'm going to, can you believe this? Just read further to see what a mess it is), let it be known that the link above only works if you have a channel. If not, you have to send your complaint to [email protected]

Now, if you're interested in seeing what a MessTM this is, continue reading about this video that stole my work.

Guys, this is the presentation of the video:

The title (and the pictures) has absolutely NO link whatsoever to the plot of my fic, to be clear.

The pictures inside of the slideshow are about DragonBall Z! XD

But yes, it is indeed a generated "podfic" of my OC fic (but only part of it? it cuts in the middle of a scene at around half of the story)!

When you click on the description of the video, there is a link that actually contains a list of links on fanfiction.net. So they actually didn't steal it from AO3 but ff.net. Writers from ff.net, be aware!

The video has 1,4k views and 37 likes in 2 months. What the heck.

But the comments, guys!

I find this frankly hilarious. I mean, there is so much confusion here. Obviously the basic Naruto fans that would hate on (female) OCs are expected, but someone listened to it long enough to realize it was not the complete story. Respect to them.

Can you believe that with such a mess this channel has 5,37k subscribers? Please people, have some self-respect.

#Project Copy-Knight #EsquireBot #naruto fanfiction #fanfiction.net #AO3 #my writing

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midnightsilver · 1 month

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Tips for Spn Artists posting on Tumblr 😄👍🏻

I see a lot of new artists posting Spn art and it can be a struggle to get your art out there. Or you might be new to Tumblr and not sure how best to put yourself forward.

I post Spn art and do a lot of bangs when my health permits. And I have picked up some tips that I have found helpful for posting art tumblr 😄 so I thought I would share.

Please feel free to take any of these points or leave them as suits you!

✨Personalise your header and icon. Bots will often make posts with popular tags and stolen art, to try and gain followers before throwing out the spam links, but some clues the account is a bot is not having personalised headers and icons, not having a long history of posts (more than a few days), and not talking about their art or fandom. So make sure you don’t look like a bot 😄

✨Interact with accounts you enjoy. Like, comment and reblog your favourite accounts and they will likely return the favour and you will get more followers. The first way your post gets noticed is by your followers. Interacting isn’t always easy if one is an introvert or doesn’t have much time for social media, but do what you can where you can.

✨If don’t have many followers then the next best thing is to use tags more. People follow key tags to find new posts from blogs they are not aware of. I recommend using the ‘Spn fanart’ tag on all your art posts. Also be sure to include: common ship names, the character names, and key words like: cute, funny, angst, angel, wings, etc 👍🏻 😄 this will help people find your posts, so be sure to tag consistently!

✨Make a personal art tag, it could be ‘your name art’ or something as wacky as you like. But tag all your art with it! If someone sees your art post out in the Spn fanart tags and they like it, they can click your art tag to see the rest of your art posts.

✨Don’t include links to outside webpages unless absolutely necessary. If you are posting for a bang, reblog the bang master post for the story which has the links to ao3, but then make your own art post and only link to the tumblr master post. Tumblr often hides posts with links to outside webpages (so that the porn bots sending you to spam websites get minimised, but unfortunately this also minimises links to ao3 or shops 😔). Links to another post inside of tumblr are ok tho! So to keep your art post from being hidden from searches, only link back to the master tumblr post with the story info. If people want to read the story they can follow the ao3 link from there. But it’s better that they actually get to see your art (the ‘advert’ for the story) in the first place so that they know it exists!

Also keep this info in mind if you are linking to your shop or your other socials. Your direct followers will see your shop posts but because of the external links the post might be hidden from searches. Consider doing a mix of posts with direct shop links and ones that get the info out there but link back to a pinned tumblr post or bio post with the outside link.

✨Don’t crowd your art. Many people view tumblr on mobile so your pictures will look small. People can’t really see the details if you put 2 images side by side. Put one image on each line and consider making some cropped images to show close up details of your favourite bits. You need to catch people as they are quickly scrolling past, so be sure that you make it easy for them to see what you are offering.

✨And finally don’t be afraid to do reblogs. It isn’t rude to reblog your own work, it’s helpful. Dashboards can get very busy and even if people follow you, your post might be burried a long way down if they don’t get back online multiple times a day. Reblogs will give them a chance to see what they missed. As long as you are not posting on the hour every hour, most people appreciate 2 or 3 reblogs at different times to save them having to scrolled back for days! 😄 and don’t forget that tumblr is multinational. Time zone reblogs can be helpful.

✨oh I forgot one more thing! Don’t put yourself down! No piece of art is perfect! Ever! But Michelangelo doesn’t start off by apologising that the statue of David is out of proportion. And neither should you! Let your work shine where it shines and don’t bury it in put-downs before you even give others the chance to enjoy its triumphs! You deserve better and so do they!

Those are the main points my friends. If you have any other helpful tips that you want to share, feel free to reblog this and add on points. We were all new to this hellsite (affectionate) at some point. And life is already hard for us struggling artists so whatever we can do to help each other is a good thing 💛

Stay awesome my friends, and happy Arting 🙌🏼😄

#supernatural #spn fanart #artists on tumblr #tips #art #tumblr #helpful #posting tips #bangs and challenges

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seeingivy · 1 year

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burnout

megumi fushiguro x f!reader

in which megumi takes care of you after a stressful day

read on ao3

Megumi Fushiguro hates when you’re late. He knows you’re a perfectionist, but for some reason, you always let time slip behind you. While he can usually grant you grace, you’ve particularly crossed the line today. He’s been waiting at the Golden Lantern, your favorite Chinese food spot near campus, for the past hour and a half, spamming you with texts that were becoming borderline threatening.

At the two hour mark, Megumi begrudgingly orders your favorite dishes as takeout and storms to your apartment, ready to give you a piece of his mind. He swipes the spare key you and Nobara keep under the light switch and storms in.

“Hey, idiot. I waited two hours for you to show up and you didn’t even-”

Megumi turns his head, silencing at the sight of you. You’re slumped against your desk, fast asleep face first in your Biochemistry textbook. He can see the tiredness on your face, your features scrunched up with deep bags under your eyes.

He silences completely, eyeing the state of your room. You were a perfectionist in all aspects of life, which is why the huge pile of clothes at the side of your desk was basically nightmare material to him.

He curses himself for not catching on sooner, slinging his arms around your waist to lift you up. He starts tiptoeing towards your bed, making sure to move slowly to prevent you from waking up. He moves onto the bed, leaning over to you to tuck you into the middle.

“Fushiguro?”

“Shh. Go back to sleep.”

He sees your eyes flutter close and praises the gods you went back to sleep. You had a tendency to ignore everything he said when you were awake. As he moves to leave your bed, you grab onto him in your sleep, snuggling into the side of his arm.

He freezes, unsure what to do. You’re sleeping on his arm. If he moves, you might wake up. But he can’t just sit here in your bed with you while you sleep right? Is that weird?

While Megumi battles what move to make, you move even closer, gravitating towards the warmth he was radiating. Now he definitely can’t move. He looks down, seeing you fast asleep against him. As he adjusts himself against the headboard, he shoots a text to Nobara, trying to gauge how far gone you were.

kugisaki.

shut up, fushiguro.

how has y/n been lately?

did you see the pile in her room? i broke out into a cold sweat when i saw it

we were supposed to get dinner but she never showed. i just found her slumped over her desk, asleep head first in her biochem textbook

oh yeah, she’s been staying up all night studying. she chugs celsius and protein bars all night

Megumi grips the phone out of frustration.

the other day, she kinda had a whole meltdown. yuuji accidentally threw away her sake leftovers and she cried about it for like three hours. telling him how she was stressed about the exam, how she had been waiting to finish the chapter to eat the food. he said she nearly collapsed after she stopped crying.

i don’t know what i’m going to do with this girl.

you and me both, fushiguro.

He knew that you needed everything to be perfect when it came to school, that you couldn’t and wouldn’t settle for anything but the best. Most days, he would praise you for your tenacity, admiring how set you were on completing your goals. But today, he’s angry. You’d go as far as avoiding eating to finish studying? How far were you going to go before you fizzle out?

He places a hand in your hair, brushing the flyaways behind your ears. The thought scares him. That you might not be as loud, lively, or happy after everything you were putting on your plate. Your ambition, your drive, your love was what he admired about you. The thought that it could be what made him lose you scared him. You move in your sleep, burying your face deeper into his chest, the thought plaguing his mind.

You wake up after a few hours to find yourself tangled in Megumi’s arms. He has his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting against the top of yours. When did Megumi come over? Why is he sleeping in your bed with you?

You feel him tense at the contact, stirring awake at your movement. His eyes flutter open, peering down into yours. You slide off him, sitting up to throw a hoodie over your t-shirt. You suddenly feel exposed, like Megumi had seen too much of you.

He sits up, turning to face you.

“Hi Megs. When did you come over?”

“A few hours ago. I waited for you for two hours at the Golden Lantern and came over when you didn’t come. I found you asleep, face first in your Biochemistry textbook.”

You wince, embarrassed that you forgot about dinner with Megumi and that he found you slumped over your textbook. He looks over, an angry look pasted on his face.

“I’m really sorry for forgetting. I’ll make sure I’m on time to dinner next week.” you whisper.

For a reason completely lost to you, this pisses him off even more.

“You think I’m mad about the stupid dinner?” he asks, glaring at you.

He jumps off your bed and stalks out of your room. You follow, watching him rummage through your kitchen cabinets. He pulls out two plates, piling food from the Golden Lantern onto the plate. He shoves the plate in front of you, glaring daggers while he does it.

“Eat the food. Now.”

“Okay, Megs. Why are you upset with me?.” you say, sliding the plate closer to you.

“You have your head up your ass.”

“Excuse me?”

“Six cans of Celcius and a protein bar?”

“It was the closest thing I could find. I didn’t have time to prepare meals this week.”

“Okay? So you could have asked me? Or ordered takeout? Nobara lives in the same damn room as you and Yuuji is down the hall.”

“Okay, sorry Megs. It just seemed like too much trouble at the time.”

He glares, pushing more rice and noodles onto your plate. The food is basically overflowing at this point and you narrow your eyes at the gesture. He glares back and your protests die in your throat. You know when to pick your battles.

“How do you expect yourself to do good if you’re crumbling at the seams?”

You look up, his green eyes boring into yours.

“I always manage just fine. It’s none of your business.” you grumble in response, the words dying in your throat.

“Manage just fine? Your bloodstream is probably seventy percent caffeine, your sleeping schedule shit, and your hair is turning gray. Managing just fine are you?”

You look down at your plate, the stack of food left untouched. The words sting, all of them true. You were far away from what you wanted to be, trying so hard to essentially no avail. You were bursting at the seams and everyone could see it. You were failing them. You feel the tears stinging in your eyes, falling onto the countertop.

You cover your hands with your eyes, willing the crying to stop. You push down so hard you see stars, your eyelids burning under your hands. You try to even your breaths, try to calm down but you can’t. The cries die in your throat, pouring out of you with no end in sight.

You feel Megumi behind you, his arms crushing you in a hug. His head rests on top of yours and you feel him sigh in his chest. The two of you stand that way for a while, you sobbing against his hold.

He spins you around, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“You scare me when you do this.”

“Hm?”

“You stop eating, stop sleeping. You don’t wave at strangers and don’t point at flowers when we walk to class. Yuji makes a stupid dad joke and you don’t even look up from your book. Nobara brings you back mochi and you don’t touch it because you’re so focused on your homework. You forget to say good morning to the barista and you forget to do your ‘lotion potion’ skincare routine at night. You don’t even smile at me.”

You look down, pressing the top of your head against his chest. You’re ruining this. You’re failing him too.

“Just, stop running away from me. Let me walk with you.”

You look up, his green eyes boring into yours. You wrap your hands around his neck, crying into the side of his shoulder. You feel him rubbing small circles into your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. The two of you stand there for what feels like hours, his touch grounding you back home.

You wrap your wet hair into a towel and dress yourself in fresh pajamas after taking a shower. Megumi had convinced you to take a break for the night - the two of you were going to watch movies and go to bed. Does that mean he would stay?

As you open the door, you find Megumi folding clothes on your neatly made bed. The smell of laundry is overwhelming, the clothes and sheets fresh from the dryer.

You nearly cry at the thought. He did your damn laundry while you were taking a shower. You don’t deserve him. You turn back to the mirror, staring at the lotions and serums on your counter. If Megumi missed your ‘lotion potion’ skin care routine - a term you coined which he claimed to hate - then you could at least do that.

You start by taking the serums, massaging them all into the skin around your face and neck. The sensation is soothing, the serums cold against your puffy skin. As you continue your skincare routine, you’re unsure when Megumi has joined you in the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe to watch you. You look up, startled by the sight of him.

“I’m doing my ‘lotion potion’ skincare routine. Are you happy now?” you ask, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

He walks up, slinging his arm around your waist. You see a smile spread across his face, reaching his eyes.

“Yes. That’s my girl.”

You feel your cheeks heat at his words, your heart thumping in your chest. You continue with your routine, hands shaking at his presence, with Megumi leaning against the counter watching you. When you finish, he leads you to your bed, climbing under the covers with you before clicking the lights off. Your eyes wander to your textbook, sitting a few feet away from you.

The thoughts flood your mind - you can’t remember what starts the Krebs Cycle. Oh my god, what starts the Krebs cycle? The thought drowns you in panic, the time you spent for the past few hours suddenly feeling like a waste. As you move to reach for the textbook, you feel Megumi’s arm crawl around your body, pulling you against him.

“I just want to check one thing. It’ll be quick.”

He moves closer to your face, pressing a soft kiss against the side of your cheek. You shock at the contact, Megumi not striking you as the affectionate type. You had onl hugged him twice before today and here he was sleeping in your bed, for the second time, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks.

“No. The book will still be there tomorrow. Just go to sleep, please.”

You hear the last sentence straining in his throat, his words from earlier ring in your ears. You give in, moving closer into his arms. You fall asleep, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

You have a dream Megumi tells you he loves you but you’re unsure where the idea came from all together. When you tell Nobara the next day, she suggests that maybe he said it to you while you were sleeping. You smack her for saying something so stupid, but the thought never leaves your mind. It did sound rather loud, so clear it had to be real.

He doesn’t deny that fact when you ask him.

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chososhairbuns · 5 months

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boba. 26. she/her or they/them. cis. taiwanese child of immigrants. born and raised in the USA. fluent english and mandarin chinese speaker. non-fluent japanese speaker, better at reading and listening to it.

previous urls: aromarunwayexpress, otoutties

i block: bigots, capitalists, pro-lifers, zionists, bootlickers, MAPs, incest and pedophilia shippers, people who aren't critical of their favorite media, people who give tumblr and/or ao3 money, and fans/defenders of canon pedophiles. if you're none of these things and you're still blocked, it's likely nothing personal and i was simply curating my space when i did it.

other things to note:

spam likes/reblogs = OK

minors (or people who don't wish to see suggestive/sexual/etc content) blacklist and dni with posts tagged with #minors dni

i regularly tag commonly blacklisted subjects by default (blood, drugs, etc.), provided that it isn't anything important that everybody should see.

that being said, i have memory problems so i may have trouble remembering to tag more unconventional things for specific people. that being said, i'll still try and do my best with this.

NOT a fandom blog so don't follow me for media/fandom posts and then be surprised when i also make/reblog personal/political/etc posts

if i say something bad or reblog from someone shitty, please tell me and keep me in check

with all that said, i think of myself as pretty chill and try to take most things in good faith so please don't hesitate to interact with me i'm not scary at all :]

#pinned #new pinned to replace that ugly ass old one #like if you read etc #i'll tweak this later if anything else comes to me

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roachsideblog · 1 month

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Something I've noticed a lot recently in the CoD fandom on Ao3 is new authors posting placeholder fics (especially in the ghostsoap tag, since it's the most popular ship and attracts the highest number of newer writers! But that's not me trying to point fingers here).

While I'm elated to see y'all engaging with the community and writing such cool stuff, please avoid doing this! I know it's exciting to post your first work and all, but it counts as spam (against Ao3's TOS). It also makes it harder for users to find actual reading material, and can hurt your fic in the long run when they see all those awesome tags from what you have planned, then click on it and are disappointed/frustrated to find nothing inside.

So, I recommend using Ao3's draft feature. It explains how in the FAQ, but here's the quick version: click "preview" rather than "post" at the bottom of the new work/chapter page, then select "Save as Draft."

Drafted chapters for posted works are saved until you post or delete them. Drafts of unposted works, however, are deleted one month after creation and cannot be recovered, so be sure to save a copy of your work elsewhere!!

Here is a link to the relevant FAQ article. It also has a lot of other great information for you to use!

As an alternative, keep the fic saved in whatever word processor you use and hold off on posting until you're ready. I like to put titles and tags at the top of my fic documents so I don't forget them.

You can also consult more experienced authors with any questions; most of us would love to help! My replies and DMs are always open to (polite) members of the fandom, cause the community is my favorite part of posting fics.

Happy writing!!

#cod fanfic #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfiction #ghostsoap #ghostroach

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teaberrii · 6 months

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Chapter 5: City Meets Country

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

"...Pretending to date, you say?” The woman sitting across from the detective looked him in the eyes. “What a bold move you’re suggesting, Detective.”

“It’s just empty words that’ll get you an invitation. You want to prove your innocence, don’t you?”

“Is this your sense of justice talking, or…” There was a curious glint in her eyes. “...Are your personal feelings getting the best of you?”

The detective quietly scoffed. “I am here to do a job. They say you’re guilty, but you say you’re innocent. We need more evidence.”

“...Innocent until proven guilty, is that it?”

“It’s what I’d like to live by.”

A loud honk makes Welt stop. He quickly takes a step back upon seeing the red stoplight. He’d been so engrossed in thinking about his book’s latest scene that he almost walked onto a busy street. He didn’t know why, but since he saw you and Jing Yuan walk into the stone villa, Welt was hit with an idea. And, throughout his walk, he’s been fleshing out the details.

When Welt woke up this morning, Dan Heng was reading on the couch while Dan Feng was on the balcony, enjoying the fresh morning air. As soon as he stepped inside, Welt asked, “March still isn’t up?”

“She wasn’t in her room,” Dan Feng said. “Texted her a bunch of times, and she said she’s on her way back.” He looked at his watch. “She should be back in… 3… 2… 1…”

The door opened, and March walked inside. “You’ll never guess who I bumped into!”

As she said she’d met you and Jing Yuan at the pool, Welt's phone buzzed with a message.

Can you get it done in the next two months?

Welt’s shoulders fell upon reading the message from his editor.

“Welt?” Welt looked up and saw his friends looking at him. March glanced at his phone. “Something wrong?”

“No. Just some spam text,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

The light turns green, and as he crosses the street, he thinks back to the text. It’s been a few years since he changed from writing non-fiction to fiction, and it’s been a bumpy adventure. While he’d built a reputation writing non-fiction, writing fiction proved to be a challenge. There's no right or wrong in creativity or imagination, something that Welt finds exciting and frustrating. And while his book sales have marginally improved since he first started, it still feels like he's looking into a dark tunnel, one where no one has a solid answer of where to go. They just push him for deadlines. Can he outdo his last book? Will he succeed? Maybe his creativity just doesn't resonate with the market as much as he'd like.

He walks past a train station and sees you talking with a few tourists. By the time he walks up to you, the tourists are already leaving, and he can see the gears turning in your head.

“Hey.” You look up, surprised. He looks at the foreign tourists and back at you. “Were they asking for directions?”

“Nah. I was doing some research.”

“Research? Does that involve talking to random people?"

“Kind of. Sort of. Not really.”

“Well, I’d be interested in hearing more.”

As you and Welt walk down the street together, you tell him about the reason you're here. But so far, you’re still coming up a little empty.

“Some tourists have been wishing for more hotels,” you say. “It’s strange.”

“It's a good question, and it’s something I noticed, too.”

“Sounds like you have insights to share.”

“Nothing that I think would be useful,” Welt says with a sheepish grin. “You know who you should talk to?” The little smile on his face gives you a hunch. “Jing Yuan.”

And you’re right.

“...Because he grew up here?”

“That’s right. There’s no one better to ask.”

Well, you might as well make the most of his fake boyfriend status. But…

“How long have you known Jing Yuan?” you ask.

“We met when he was still getting the B&B off the ground. So, it’s been about eight years? But, the funny thing is, we went to the same grad school, and we never knew.”

Grad school… Now, you’re curious. What did Jing Yuan study? Was he already thinking about opening a bed and breakfast? Was he already married?

“Both of us were there on a scholarship,” Welt continues. “I don’t know if you know but he was a corporate guy before he started this business. Director of Operations at an IT company.”

“...I don’t know if I should call him crazy for leaving a cushy job or…”

“...Or admire him for his courage?”

“I think both.”

“They say crazy people create history.”

You remember Jing Yuan’s bold move to kiss your cheek. “...He truly is a man full of surprises.”

Welt chuckles. “Sounds like someone’s fond of him now.”

“That’s—”

A loud sob interrupts you, and then, “Yanqing hit me!”

You and Welt stop and look at each other upon hearing the familiar name. To your left, there’s an elementary school. Without thinking, you and Welt enter the front courtyard, and you see a small group of kids gathering around Yanqing and a young girl about his age. Her long white hair is in a ponytail, and her reddish-pink eyes look anxious and scared. Yanqing is standing in front of her but he’s facing a larger boy who’s crying.

“What’s going on?” a woman walks towards the children and the larger boy runs to her.

“Yanqing hit me!” he cries.

“I…” When Yanqing looks off to the side, he gasps. “Auntie! Welt!”

The woman looks at you just as you and Welt come up beside Yanqing. "And you are...?"

Before you can answer, the boy frowns and glares at you. "Yanqing should apologize!"

Ignoring him, you put a hand on Yanqing's shoulder. "Do you want to tell us what happened?”

“...He was bullying Clara.”

“Is that true, Clara?” the woman asks, looking at the girl behind Yanqing.

“I didn’t say anything wrong!” the boy insists.

"You were making fun of her!" You hold Yanqing's hand, and his shoulders slowly fall when he looks at you. "...I'm not a bad person."

You affectionately pat his head while the woman says, “Let’s go inside, shall we?” Then, she looks at you. “Are you his aunt?”

You and Welt glance at each other. “Um, well—”

“Yes,” Yanqing answers, and you look at him. Then, quietly, “...I don’t want Dad to get called in when he’s so busy.”

The woman leads all of you inside the school and into the empty classroom, away from the prying eyes of the other kids.

“...Clara, do you want to tell us what happened?” the woman asks.

Clara is fidgeting when she looks down. “...Yanqing didn’t hit him.” You see the intimidating gaze of the boy. So, you stand in front of him, blocking her from seeing him. “...But, he did push him.”

“See!” The boy steps in front of you.

Welt frowns. “Let her finish.”

Clara looks at the boy and says, “But it was because he was bothering me.”

“What did he say?” the woman asks.

“I didn’t—”

You shoot him a look, and the boy crosses his arms.

Clara was building a sandcastle in the sandpit when she felt someone behind her. She turned and saw a larger boy who was looking at her with a curious but distasteful look.

“Is it true that you have two moms and no dad?” Feeling uncomfortable, Clara stood, but before she could walk away, he quickly blocked her path. “It’s just a question.”

“...Leave me alone.”

The boy frowned. “What? Are you embarrassed because it’s true?” Yanqing, who was walking by to play on the swings, overheard the question. “Who’s your dad?”

“I don’t have one,” Clara said quietly.

“What? I couldn’t hear you.”

Yanqing stopped, noticing how uncomfortable Clara looked. Then, he looked at the boy. “Stop bugging her.”

He glared at him. “It’s none of your business.”

Yanqing glared back. “She’s uncomfortable!”

“I was just asking her a question.”

Yanqing walked toward Clara and extended his hand. “Let’s go play on the swings.”

“Hey!” The boy rudely forced Yanqing to look at him, and Yanqing acted on instinct.

Soon, the boy was on the ground, his palm scratched by the concrete.

The woman sighs. “Apologize to Clara.”

“Why?” he challenges. “It’s not like I did anything wrong.”

“But you did,” you say, frowning. “You made her feel uncomfortable.”

“Who asked you, old woman?”

Before you can say anything, the woman sternly says the boy’s name. “Apologize. Or, I’m calling your parents.”

The boy mutters, “Sorry,” without looking at you or Clara.

Once that's over and done with, you and Welt strike up a conversation with the woman who you now know as Yanqing's teacher. Turns out Yanqing's taking summer classes at the same elementary school Jing Yuan once went to.

By the time you and Welt are ready to leave, a loud bell rings throughout the school, signalling the end of recess. The kids are filing in and heading toward their respective classrooms. You and Welt are standing outside the staff room with Yanqing and Clara.

The young girl shyly looks at Yanqing and says, “Um… Thank you for what you did.”

“We’re similar, so… I can kinda understand how you feel,” Yanqing says with a smile.

“Similar…? Ah…!” You can see the lightbulb in her head go off. “You’re the one with two dads…”

“It’s a good thing!” Yanqing has his fists clenched in front of him as if eager to communicate his point. Then, with a soft smile, he says, “It doesn’t matter as long as they care about you.”

“Yanqing! Clara! Time for class!”

Clara is the first to leave, though it looks like she wants to wait for Yanqing. But, he turns to you and Welt and makes a gesture for you to crouch.

“...Could you keep what happened today a secret?” he asks quietly. A sigh. “I know pushing is wrong…”

“You just don’t want Jing Yuan to lecture you,” Welt says.

“Maybe…”

“I don’t think you should keep it from him,” you say. "But… I know you feel uncomfortable. So, I’ll keep your secret.”

“Really?” Yanqing’s eyes are shining.

“He’ll find out either way,” Welt says. “Jing Yuan's quite perceptive.”

The boy’s shoulders fall, but before he can say anything else, you see the teacher peek out from the classroom.

“Go to class,” you say. "We won't say anything."

Yanqing pouts but gives you and Welt a quick hug, and then he runs off toward his classroom.

◆◆◆

“Yo.” Jing Yuan is on his lunch break in the restaurant downstairs of the stone villa when he hears a familiar voice. Dan Feng pulls out the chair in front of Jing Yuan and jokingly asks, “Seat taken?”

“You’re alone?”

“March ditched us. As for Dan Heng”—Dan Feng rolls his eyes—“he wants to relax and spend his time reading today.”

“And Welt?”

“Can’t reach him. He’s been gone for a while. But—”

The buzz of his phone interrupts him. Once he pulls it out of his pocket, Dan Feng chuckles. “Well, speak of the devil.”

Jing Yuan takes another bite of his noodles just as Dan Feng says your name, making Jing Yuan look up. “They’re together." Jing Yuan almost chokes and quickly leans back to compose himself. Dan Feng laughs. “They bumped into each other in town. That’s what I meant.”

A small cough. “I see.”

Dan Feng puts an elbow on the table and slightly leans closer. “What’s your relationship with her, anyway? What were you two talking about earlier today?”

“Someone’s curious,” Jing Yuan deadpans.

“Well, yeah! Is she a friend…? Or…?”

“Yes.” A small pause. “...And I’m helping her with some things.”

“...Some things? Like what?” When Jing Yuan goes back to eating, Dan Feng rolls his eyes. “What’s with the secrecy?”

Jing Yuan wipes his mouth with a napkin and puts it neatly to the side. Then, he puts his arms on the table. “Why are you so curious about her?”

“Because it looks like you’re interested in her, and it’s been a while since you showed interest in anyone. So, of course, I’m curious!” Dan Feng gently taps his phone on the table. “Plus, she’s kinda cute, too.”

Jing Yuan thinks back to when he first saw you protecting his cousin. He found you frustrating, even more so when you took his phone and demanded him to pay for the spoiled cake. But that was when he got a good look at you. Was it inappropriate that he found you physically attractive?

He never expected to meet you again at the restaurant that night.

The look on your face told him that something was weighing you down, which he later concluded was your ex. Jing Yuan thought about interfering when he saw your ex preventing you from closing the taxi door. But he weighed his options and decided to wait and see. Then, when he saw that look of exhaustion on your face in the taxi, it was like looking into a mirror.

He saw his old self.

“A bed and breakfast?”

Jing Yuan and his wife were sitting at the table for dinner that evening when he brought up the dream he’d had since graduate school. He’d never spoken about it to anyone, even his wife whom he’d known since college. This was his little secret, something personal that he didn’t want to share until he was sure he wanted to go through with it. And, after countless weeks of thinking, he didn’t want any regrets.

“Xianzhou’s been budding as a popular tourist destination,” Jing Yuan said. “...It would be great to go back and—”

“...But, there’s nothing there.” Jing Yuan–chopsticks in hand—was reaching for some food on a plate. But, he stopped and looked at his wife with mild confusion. “Don’t get me wrong, Jing Yuan. Xianzhou is beautiful, but… there’s really nothing there. No technological advancements. No flourishing economy… Why would you want to go back?”

Should Jing Yuan be surprised? Probably not. His wife had grown up in the city; she was a city girl who never showed any interest in the countryside besides a vacation to escape the busy city life. But living there? Out of the question. Jing Yuan should’ve known.

Jing Yuan put his chopsticks down. “I grew up there, and… I’ve always wanted to start a business.”

She put her hand on top of his. “...But, didn’t you promise me we’d be starting a family? Don’t tell me you’re going to run off and start your little business and leave me to take care of the baby.”

“No. Of course not. That’s not what—”

“You just got promoted too.” She sighed. “Let’s stick to what we planned.”

Jing Yuan knew his wife would be against the idea, but he’d been hoping for open communication. Instead, she wasn’t even looking at him anymore but at an article on her phone about preparing for your first baby.

And that was just the beginning.

“Hey.” Dan Feng taps the table. “You listening?”

Jing Yuan’s phone buzzes, and he quickly takes it out. After taking a glance at the work email, he slides it back into his pocket. Then, he looks at his friend and says, “It’s true I’m interested in her.”

Dan Feng lets out a low whistle. “Haven’t heard you been this direct in a while either. Kinda refreshing, if you ask me.”

“...But, we’ll see how things turn out.”

Dan Feng slowly nods as Jing Yuan finishes the rest of his food. “Keeping a level head as you pursue her, huh? A logical approach, as expected.”

Jing Yuan isn’t playing around, but he hasn't forgotten the pain of a broken heart. You’re a city girl, much like his ex-wife. Plus, he has Yanqing. That’s when it hits him. It’s been too long since he felt his heart race for somebody. He isn't thinking, and if not for this conversation with Dan Feng, he would not have realized that his head is off in the clouds.

“Oh, hey." Just as Jing Yuan neatly puts his chopsticks on top of his bowl, Dan Feng says, "Before you leave for your big boy meeting... We’re having a BBQ party tonight. If you’re not busy, come join us.” Then, with a little smile, he adds, “We’ll be sure to invite her, too.”

◆◆◆

You and Welt end up parting ways. With you looking to get more information, Welt had gone back to the bed and breakfast first.

“Hotels? Why would we want more of that here?”

That isn’t the response you’re expecting. You manage to strike up a conversation with some of the locals after ordering some food from a popular food stand. They are women in their forties or early fifties who run small businesses nearby.

“Seriously,” one of them says with an exasperated sigh. “All corporate people want to do is come in and control everything! If we let them in, they’ll be putting us out of business!”

“Right! Just like those punks a few years ago.”

Punks?

The women look at you. “Why are you asking such strange questions? Are you one of them?”

“Them? No, nothing like that,” you answer, even though you have no idea who they’re talking about. “I was just curious as it’s my first time here.”

A woman sighs. “We only need family businesses here. All of them corporate people and whatnot can stay the hell away.”

You know better than to generalize the opinion of just two locals, but the animosity is unexpectedly strong.

You’re mulling over the interesting thought when someone says, “Bar Girl?”

You recognize the voice. When you turn, Blade and Luocha are walking towards you.

“It’s not Bar Girl,” Blade corrects his friend as the men stop in front of you. “Jing Yuan calls her Corporal.”

“Corporal…? Huh… Thought he’d go with Sweetheart like he does everyone else.”

Everyone else…? It’s somewhat of a petty thought, but does Jing Yuan call every girl Sweetheart?

Luocha sticks out his hand. “I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself last time. I’m Luocha, and I’m a physician here.”

“You’re a local?” you ask, surprised.

A small chuckle. “Born and raised. What? Do I look more like a city boy to you?” He nods toward a street. “I run a clinic just at the end here.”

You take his hand. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“I hear you’re staying at Jing Yuan’s B&B,” he says with a small smile. “How’s that going?”

“Am I supposed to say I hate it?” you ask sarcastically.

“We can keep a secret.” Luocha nudges Blade. “Right?”

“This is Jing Yuan we’re talking about,” Blade says. “There’s no way he’ll provide anything less than excellence.”

“That’s quite a statement,” you say. “...But, so far… it is true.”

“Soundin’ a little glum, chum.”

“You’re thinking too much, Doc—ah!”

You almost stumble when someone pushes you while wrapping their arm around your shoulder. You aren't sure who to expect, but surely not March smiling at you.

“How’d you like the view this morning?” she asks.

“...View?”

She lightly pinches your cheek. “The view of a half-naked Jing Yuan.” Blade and Luocha glance at each other before looking at you as if looking for an explanation. March turns to them. “Jing Yuan graced us with his presence at the pool earlier today.”

“Sounds like a great time,” Luocha deadpans.

“You wish you were half the man he is.”

Luocha scoffs and puts a hand on his hip. “Someone sure is more talkative than usual.”

As March lets you go and continues bickering with Luocha, Blade sighs. “Here we go again.”

“Looks like all of you are close.”

“Close? I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

“My, I wasn’t expecting to see so many familiar faces.”

March and Luocha stop bickering at the sound of a woman’s voice. You look past them and see a tall, slender woman with pale hair and red eyes. There’s an elegance in the way that she walks that tells you she’s a no-nonsense woman.

Then, you hear Blade say a name, one that you don’t recognize. But it’s what he says after that takes you off guard.

“...That’s Jing Yuan’s mentor.”

Chapter 6

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