how can you not like her she's a complete cupcake

People that prefer John over Peter for Lara Jean piss me off so much because like… what the fuck do we know about John?? Only the romanticized version through Lara Jean’s perspective and like…. we dont actually know the guy????? She talked to him like very few times and it was all flirty??? We dont actually know him at all???????? Like n a d a. And peter like my sweet child… we got to actually know him before she fell in love. And she didnt fall in love with the idea. She fell in love with him and all his flaws. LJ doesn’t know John well enough to know his flaws, like for all we know he could even have an aggression problem like wE DONT KNOW. We know Peter though. Peter and LJ got to reallyyyyyyy know each other before falling for the other and became like each others’ best friends and oh my god I love Peter so much how can you stand there and root for John, a complete stranger and say he’s better for her while Peter is there with all his flaws fully willing to give his whole heart and soul to LJ and try to be the man she deserves. Like please this sweet cupcake even said one of his biggest fears was to not be the man she deserves because she deserves the best LIKE DO U SEE HOW MUCH HE CARES AND HOW SWEET GO CHOKE IF U THINK JOHN IS BETTER. JOHN DOESNT EVEN FUCKING KNOW COVEY HE KNOWS LIKE HER COOL™ VERSION NOT THE REAL HER

B Y E

anonymous asked:

Barduil AUA flower shop and a tattoo shop right next to each other. Thran works at the flower shop, and Bard works at the tattoo shop. Bard has a bunch of swag tattoos while Thran has flowers braided into his hair cuz he's pretty. They share woeful looks 'cause I mean ''oh no he's hot''. Sometimes Bard draws flowers/elf-like things for him but he just leaves them on his desk when Thran's not there and Thran makes Bard flower crowns and Bard wears them but also gives them to the Bardlings.

“…ada? Ada are you even listening to me?”

“Hmm? …Sorry, what?” Thranduil snapped himself out of it, turning his attention back to his son who promptly let out a put-upon sigh.

“I’ll take that as a no then.”

“Sorry, I was distracted.”

“Clearly.” Legolas replied, before looking out the window and smirking (something which he definitely got from Thranduil). “And it wouldn’t take a genius to guess what by. Or rather who.”

Little shit.

“Aren’t you supposed to respect your elders?” Thranduil griped, going back to perfecting the bouquet of vibrant germinis that he was working on before he got…distracted.

It wasn’t his fault, he honestly couldn’t help it. Sometimes he just looked at the man from the tattoo shop next door and felt like he knew him, although from where he couldn’t possibly say. It was the strangest thing.

“I respect your ability to arrange flowers.” Legolas grinned. “However, I do not respect your inability to woo the tattoo artist next door.”

“I am not trying to ‘woo’ him.” Thranduil protested, albeit weakly, his son knew him far too well to buy it.

“I know, all you’re managing at the moment is some pining.”

“I do not pine.” Thranduil grumbled, not looking up from his flowers, wondering if it would make him a bad parent if he just took up a policy of ignoring Legolas. Not that he would be able to do it for long, just as long as this conversation about his personal life (or lack thereof) and possible (definite) crush on the very attractive man next door.

“You sure about that?” Legolas asked, but Thranduil decided to start his policy of ignoring him. “Then I guess you won’t be interested to know that I recently discovered that my friend Sigrid is actually his daughter.”

Thranduil could hear the smugness in Legolas’ voice as his head snapped up to look at him, his policy of ignoring him hadn’t even lasted ten seconds apparently. Legolas grinned at his reaction, little shit.

Keep reading

Hollstein after Laura is gone

A sequel to this 

Also for thescarlettpeacock because we’re in an angst war right now.

-Carmilla breaking down in the hospital when she hears the flatline
-“Do SOMETHING! She can’t be gone.. she just can’t be”
-“I’m so sorry about your grandmother.” “She wasn’t my grandmother..”
-Carmilla locking herself away after Laura’s death with a box of creampuffs and one of cupcakes
-Mattie running to the store to keep Carm stocked on cupcakes and creampuffs because she doesn’t know how else to help. Her baby sister is hurting and she just feels so powerless
-Mattie leaving little notes on the boxes
-‘I’m sorry Sugarplum, I’m sorry I can’t do more. This isn’t Ell, this isn’t something we can blame on mother. But I’m here for you’
-Carmilla rewatching Laura’s old vlogs, laughing at first because of Laura’s complete dorkiness, but then crying because Laura’s never going to give Carm something to laugh at again.
-Carmilla not even drinking blood out of the TARDIS mug like she did when Laura was alive because it just doesn’t seem right now
-“The only time I’ve ever felt this alone was when I was locked in that damn coffin… what am I going to do without her Mattie?”
-Carmilla trying to decide about whether or not to bury the yellow pillow with Laura
-“It smells like her.. but it’s her’s, no matter how many times I stole it at Silas”
-Carmilla going through Laura’s old tumblr looking for music to play at the funeral
-Everyone flying in for Laura’s funeral
-“I’m sorry, Fangface I know how much she meant to you.”“Means.. how much she means to me, Xena.”
-Everyone smiling a bit when they see the yellow pillow underneath Laura’s head.“
-Carmilla crying at Mattie’s speach
-“And even though I did want to kill the girl most of the time, she brought out a Carmilla I had not seen in a very long time. Thank you, Laura.
-Laura showing up at her funeral, but she’s a ghost and no one can see or hear her
-“Carm I’m right here! Can’t you hear me? LaF, Perry, Danny, anyone? I’m right here!”
-Laura crying because she so very much wants to comfort everyone, Carmilla most of all
-Carmilla packing up all of Laura’s stuff because everything reminds Carmilla of her and she can’t deal with it
-Carmilla putting it all on a shelf next to a box marked ‘Ell’
-Laura’s grave: Laura Hollis 1995-2078 Defender of Silas and her yellow pillow
-Carmilla going to Laura’s grave every week to talk to her, not knowing that Laura can hear her
-Carmilla going to Laura’s grave every year on her birthday with a box of creampuffs

anonymous asked:

Laura is being bullied and Carmilla defends her, they're both like 15? And become really close friends after that, and in graduation Laura dedicates her speech to her :3

My hand slipped and this became 7 pages, oops. Hope it satisfies you Anon.

“…Hey cupcake, do you want to go catch a movie?”

“Carm, I can’t. I got to write this essay.”

“You’re still writing that thing?”

“I’ve started over like three times.” You’re worrying your lower lip while you stare at the screen, phone tucked right under your ear. Other than the title (My Four Years at Silas) you’re stuck.

“Laura, just dump it. You can bang out a three page paper in five minutes after we get back.”

“I can’t just bang out a paper. You know that.”

“I’m sorry, Honor Society. I forgot that you freak out whenever you get anything below an A-.”

“Look, I promise, tomorrow we’ll go and see whatever movie you want.” You answer. “I am asking you as your best friend to give me the night off from the usual best friend stuff, okay? It’s my last high school essay. I want it to be good.”

“….Fine. I guess I’ll watch netflix with a jar of nutella instead.”

“You can go with Elsie. Aren’t you guys ‘casual-dating’?”

“Eh, not sure about it anymore. She’s starting to bore me.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be hanging out with me so much then,” you tease, “I’m so weird no one is going to look interesting by comparison.” You can almost see Carmilla smiling on the other end of the line.

“Goodnight, cutie..”

“Promise me you’ll try and have fun without me?”

“Done.” The line clicks and you’re left alone.

One essay. A summary of your four years of high school. It’s different from journalism, where you have a specific topic and story and you’re just summarizing it. Now the vagueness–anything, as long as it has to do with the four years you’ve had at Silas–makes it impossible. You’re about to procrastinate with an illegal download of Buffy when you get another phone call. The caller ID reads ‘broody gay’.

“Carmilla, what is it?”

“I almost forgot. Check your email for some pictures.”

“Oh my god,” you almost squeal, “You sent pictures for the scrapbook?” You guys aren’t going to see each other all summer. The digital scrapbook was your idea to get through it. Carmilla had called it ‘diabetes inducing just thinking about it’. But it looks like she changed her mind.

“Yeah, well, consider it a graduation gift cupcake. The pictures are nothing special anyway, mostly selfies–”

“Of course they’re special,” you say firmly, “They’re of us.”

The voice is a little softer than before. “Well, thanks buttercup. Kick ass on that paper.”

“If the paper doesn’t kick mine first. I’ll try.”

She hangs up again, and you go to your email and look at the attachment. As you scroll through pictures, you realize that she must have started at the most recent ones and worked her way down, because as you scroll you see both of you aging in reverse. You go to the bottom of the page and find the first picture you ever took of the two of you–freshman year, at lunch. You still had your braces and glasses that were taped together. Carmilla’s smile is obviously slightly annoyed and forced.

You scroll back up to the most recent photo; you had to see Carmilla play at the school talent show. Your arm is slung around her shoulder, and she’s leaning into your side with hers around your waist, guitar held in her other hand. She definitely looks like she likes you a lot more in this one. Or else she became a much better actor.

With those pictures in mind, you smile. You think you might know what to write about now.

***

You finish the essay by midnight and you forget about it. You’ve got three more weeks of school before Carmilla goes off with her family to their summer home and you want to spend as much time with your best friend as you can.

It isn’t until the last day of school (before graduation) that they announce that they’ve picked the best speech to be read to the entire school.

You expect it to be Danny. You want it to be Danny, she’s always been your second best friend and you even knew her a little longer than Carm. You read her essay and it almost made you cry.

So you turn to look at her, and you mouth ‘congrats’ until you hear them call out “Laura Hollis!”

You freeze.

“Cupcake,” Carmilla whispered, nudging you. She’s sitting to your right. “Are you going to get up there?”

You really, really don’t want to read that speech with Carmilla here. You guys are friends, best friends since freshman year, but Carmilla was not exactly big on feelings. And certainly not the type to like this kind of attention.

“Uh, yeah. Wow. Here we go.”

You walk up and they hand you the speech, and when you read it again you want to throw up. You’re considering running off and refusing to read it when you catch Carmilla eye–seniors sat up front in the auditorium–and see her mouth ‘get it together cupcake’.

Which for Carmilla is very encouraging. You close your eyes, take a breath, and start.

“Wh-when I started this essay, I had no idea what to write about. An essay about your four years at Silas High School is such a broad thing. So I struggled writing about my four years doing drama, then my four years in the school newspaper, than comparing it to when I was home schooled. None of it was working.

“I thought my essay was going to be awful. Then my best friend sent me some pictures. I knew what to write about then.”

You can see Carmilla in the front. She sits up a little in her seat and raises an eyebrow. Your confidence rises a notch.

You wrote about freshman year, when you had braces and still wore glasses, and had a fashion sense you would expect from a homeschooled girl who went shopping with her father. You talked about how you were bullied constantly until one day this punk girl who you’d never even seen before walked up behind the bully and pulled his shirt over his head, looked at you, and said in a bored voice, “I hate jocks.”

And at first when you sit with her at lunch she’s kind of annoyed with you until she looks at you one day with this really contemplative expression and announces, “You know what? I’ve decided. You’re cute.” From that moment on you’re best friends.

You talk about how those glasses were actually your mother’s, and sophomore year she was officially dead for five years. And Carmilla showed up that night with nutella and an armful of movies. The next morning you finally had the courage to put those glasses in a box and start wearing contacts.

How junior year you tearfully came out to her (why you were nervous you don’t know; she was the only out and proud lesbian at Silas, why would she care?), and her response to that was ‘screw the haters’. And that was how you ended up being the founding members of the Silas High school chapter of the GSA.

And now here you both were, senior year. “I’m not saying she’s the only important friend I have. LaF, Danny, Perry…they–you–all mean so much to me. You’ve made me the person I am, and I like who I am a lot. I couldn’t have said that about myself freshman year. What I am saying is that none of my best memories of high school would have happened if Carmilla hadn’t helped this naive, annoying little freshman and let her sit at her lunch table. So, that was how I decided that the theme of my essay would be high school, from the perspective of me and my best friends. You are all amazing. And Carmilla, thank you for still tolerating me, because I may not have braces, but I’m still just as annoying.”

The auditorium claps politely, and you feel like you’re going to puke. When you walk back to your seat, you don’t look at Carmilla. Her expression is unreadable. The assembly ends, and you file into the hallway, but Carmilla holds your arm and pulls you back.

“Carmilla, what–”

She kisses you. It’s quick, barely a peck on the lips, but it’s enough to make you breathless.  

“I love you too, cupcake.”

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish. “I didn’t–”

“You wrote an entire essay detailing how amazing you think I am.” Carmilla smirks. “I can read between the lines.”

You hadn’t thought about it because, hello. she was so out of your league, and she’s your best friend. But as soon as the question enters your mind there’s not a doubt. How could you not be in love with her?

Carmilla stops smiling. “Okay, I’m really hoping I didn’t make things completely awkward, did I?”

You mind jump starts and you shake your head. “No! Carmilla, of course,” You kiss her, and her lips taste like mint and cigarette smoke, and once you start you don’t want to stop. “Of course I love you. Oh man…”

“What is it cupcake?”

“It’s just that five minutes ago I was this nerdy drama geek who never even had a boyfriend or a girlfriend and now I’m in love and have a girlfriend who is the most amazing person in the world and it’s making me freak out in the best possible way.”

Carmilla smiles. She pats your shoulder, kind of bashfully, and it’s adorable. This adorable mess of pale broodiness is all yours now.

“Maybe we should take things slow then. Want to see a movie?”

“If by see a movie you mean telling my dad we’re going to see a movie so we can spend all night in your room kissing without him getting suspicious? Yes.”

Carmilla looks at you in wonder. “You are the best girlfriend I could have possibly asked for. I can’t believe you’re real,” she breaths, and you take her hand. 

You have lunch next, and you think your friends are going to be interested, to say the least.