#I made sure to do my research so this would be as accurate as possible

[muzzable]

Jojolion or something idk I don't watch anime

[les4elliewilliams]

With all my heart.

¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!

cw/wc: 10.9k (ik wtf) not proofread ; smut, fingering both r/e!receiving, oral (r!receiving), swearing, fluff, reader has a heart condition. jackson ellie x fem reader (💘)

a/n: I'm not really sure how I feel about this, lol (especially the smut part). I tried to do a lot of research about this type of heart issue to make it as accurate as possible, so if it's not, I'm sorry, I tried. ib one of those romantic movies where one of the characters is sick and has some rare condition (except that no one dies.)

also can we start romanticizing unconditional love and healthy relationships?

You knew you had won the lottery the moment you accidentally bumped into her in the hospital.

Your life has been full of challenges right from the beginning. You were born with a condition that affected your heartbeats, making it difficult for your heart to function normally. So you had to rely on a pacemaker to regulate your heartbeat. This condition has significantly impacted your life, making it hard for you to engage in activities that require physical exertion.

Long QT Syndrome, or LQTS, is a rare genetic condition that can mess up your heart's electrical system. It can cause your heartbeats to go wild, making you faint, have seizures, or even go into sudden cardiac arrest. To keep yourself safe, you needed to take your meds, live a certain way, and have a pacemaker — which you had implanted.

Living a normal life had always been tough for you, and it wasn't only the syndrome's physical symptoms that held you back, but also your parents' protectiveness. They worried a lot about your health, maybe a bit too much, leaving you with very little freedom to do anything. Even simple things like going to a party or hanging out with friends like a regular teenager seemed like a luxury you could never have. Although you understood that your parents were only trying to protect you, their overprotectiveness always made you feel suffocated and cut off from the world. You always felt like an alien who had just been dropped off on Earth; you knew nothing about anything. You've always had to rely on the stories and experiences of people around you, like your friends, to help you figure things out and feel like you had lived a little.

You have been homeschooled ever since you were a little kid. You didn't have many opportunities to participate in social activities and make friends. However, you did manage to meet two people who have remained your only friends to this day. You met them in the park when you were a kid, and to your luck, they stuck around. You often wonder if they stayed with you out of pity or because they genuinely liked spending time with you, but you were glad regardless; it was good to have someone to hang out with.

The memory of the day you met Ellie is still as vivid in your mind as it was when it happened. You had just finished your routine checkup at the hospital and were feeling a bit peckish. You made your way to the vending machine to grab a snack, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness sweep over you. You hoped a quick snack would help, but fate seemed to have other plans in store for you that day. As you selected your snack, you watched in frustration as it got stuck in the vending machine. You tried everything you could to retrieve it, but it refused to budge. Just as you were about to give up, she appeared.

"Can I hel-" she started, but you were already turning around to leave, and just as you turned around to leave, you accidentally collided with her, causing your chest to hit hers. The impact triggered your pacemaker, causing it to beep loudly and incessantly. "Shit — I'm so sorry" she said as she gently grabbed your arm to steady you. "Oh my god, I'm sorry" you said simultaneously. The sound reverberated through the hospital walls, and your face heated up with embarrassment. You had never experienced anything like this before, not even when you bumped into walls at home.

The auburnette looked at you puzzled and asked, "Why're you beeping? Are you okay?" Worried green eyes scanning you, she was clearly taken aback by the unexpected beeping sound and she couldn't understand where it was coming from. You couldn't help but feel drawn to her despite the awkward introduction, she was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

Little did you know that this chance encounter would lead to a series of life-changing events.

You remember sitting in the seating area of the hospital, munching on a snack that she had generously gotten for you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this girl's kindness. She was so funny and kind, cracking dumb puns every now and then. You admired how perfect and flawless she looked and to this day, she still tells you how mesmerized she was by you when she saw you for the first time. You both chatted away about everything and nothing, you noticed that she had a backpack with her. Being the curious person you are, you couldn't resist the urge to ask her what she was studying. She seemed delighted by your interest and started talking passionately about her field of study — art. The more she talked, the more intrigued you were. When your conversation came to an end, she mustered up the courage to ask for your number, a clear indication that she wanted to see you again; it took you by surprise but you happily obliged. Something about you captivated her attention, although you couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

You never thought that you would have the chance to become friends with her, let alone her best friend. But somehow, again, fate had other plans for you. Your friendship with her started slowly but surely. She always asked you to hang out, and you couldn't help but say yes. She was so fun to be around, and it was impossible not to enjoy her company. She would come to your place and take you on small adventures, always promising to show you something new and exciting. This was especially important to you, as you had shared that your teenage years were quite dull and you didn't venture out of your house much. She always respected your limits, knowing that you had to be cautious with your heart condition. When she started staying at your place, you were surprised at how well she fit in with your family and friends. Your parents loved her and your friends thought she was great too. She was always taking care of you without being overbearing or suffocating. Her kindness and thoughtfulness made you feel valued and appreciated, and you couldn't help but fall for her. How could you not after all? She was perfect.

You shared every aspect of your life with her, and she reciprocated. You both had a shared love for reading, although she preferred a completely different genre from yours. She forced you to read her favorite Savage Starlight comics, and even though they weren't your cup of tea, you still enjoyed spending time with her while reading them, mostly because of how cute she sounded when she read every line out loud, effortlessly switching tones to match the different characters' voices and even adding sound effects to accentuate the narrative. She would often stay the night at your place and binge-read them with you. She loved to talk about her passions for space, dinosaurs, science, and art. She even showed you her drawings and journal, claiming she had never shown them to anyone. She even made a few drawings for you; it was adorable and impressive how she managed to capture every little detail of your face and put it on a piece of paper, she was a talented one. And, of course, you did the same with her — sharing your favorite comics/books with her, even convincing her to watch movies that she always claimed she hated. After watching them with you, she realized they weren't so bad after all. Not that she actually paid attention to the movie, her eyes solely focused on you.

Soon enough she was introducing you to her closest friends. She was convinced that you would love them, and she was totally right. One of her friends, Dina, was so much fun to be around, always full of energy and cracking jokes, she had a smile that could light up the whole room. Jesse, Dina's boyfriend, was just as funny as her, but he was a bit more serious and responsible than the rest of them. He always looked out for Dina and Ellie, but they never listened to him, which resulted in some pretty hilarious situations. The group had a really cool dynamic, and you loved how they made you feel welcome right from the start.

Your first kiss was a moment you could never forget, etched deeply into your memory. You both were deeply in love with each other, and it was evident in the way you looked at each other. Your glances filled with unspoken feelings and palpable tension that drove you crazy, hoping that you weren't the only one feeling that way. And then the moment finally arrived. You remember it was a hot summer day, and the air in your room was stifling despite the fan pointed at your face. You had a few strands of hair that fell loose out of your messy low ponytail, and they moved with the breeze from the fan. You were both on your bed; she was sitting criss-crossed before you, music playing in the background. She was drawing you in her journal, claiming that she needed more practice, which, after years, she revealed was just an excuse to draw you and spend more time with you; you were her favorite muse and she was just a loser who couldn't help but simp for you. Her cheeks were slightly pink due to the heat (or at least you thought), and her green concentrated eyes flickered back and forth from your face to her journal. When she started drawing your lips you unconsciously licked them, causing her eyes to dart up to look at you in the eyes.

She let out a soft sigh and mumbled under her breath, "m' almost done." A faint blush crept up her cheeks, though you couldn't quite explain why. Intrigued, you leaned over to get a glimpse of her work and asked, "Yeah? can I see?" She straightened up, holding the journal close to her chest, and replied with a slight huff, "Don't move, c'mon, stay still." You raised an eyebrow in amusement and retorted, "What? I'm not even moving." She didn't respond and instead furrowed her brows, focusing intently on her piece of art. The room fell silent, except for the sound of her pencil scratching against the paper.

The silence between you and her was palpable but not uncomfortable, yet you still decided to break it with a joke. "Knock knock," you said, a small smile forming on your face. Her eyes, which had been focused on her journal, darted up to meet yours once again. A playful smile appeared on her lips as she asked, "Who's there?" in a slightly sarcastic tone, giving you an eye roll. "Kiss," you replied, wiggling your brows. "Kiss who?" she played along, her eyes still fixed on you. "Me," you smiled awkwardly.

You knew it was a terrible joke, a very corny one, but you couldn't help it. After all, you didn't have much experience in these kinds of things — the universe only knew how long it took you to muster up the courage to make a silly little joke like that one. She chuckled dryly. "God, that's really bad," she commented, and you laughed along. "I know," you lowered your head and shook it slowly before looking up at her again. Both of you were smiling at each other, the tension between you growing. "So?" you quipped, trying to sound confident. "Do you want to?" you asked, your heart beating fast. "Oh shit, you were serious?" She suddenly sounded nervous, placing her somehow worn-out journal on her thighs as she looked at you in disbelief. You could tell she was surprised, and maybe a little flustered. "I'm sosorry — I didn't mean to make it awkward. Forget it. It's just I really like you a lot, but if you don't—" you started to say, trying to diffuse the tension, but her soft lips cut off your nervous rambling before you could finish your sentence. You felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body as you kissed her back, your hands reaching up to cup her face. It was a moment you would never forget.

After your first kiss, you and Ellie went on a few dates together. It was during one of these dates that she took you to the park and asked you to be her girlfriend. The setting was perfect — you were having a lovely picnic date, the weather was just right, and a gentle breeze was blowing, caressing your skin and making it erupt in goosebumps as you sat close to the pond next to Ellie, throwing frozen peas to the ducks, their quacking filling the air with lively energy. The water was still and calm, the sun was shining, and the greenery around you was lush and vibrant. You felt a sense of warmth and happiness.

The auburnette sat beside you, leaning back as you fed the ducks in the pond. She wore a tender smile on her face, watching you with a gentle gaze. "I thought they only ever ate bread," she commented, breaking the peaceful silence between the two of you. You turned to her, your eyebrows raised in surprise. "If all they eat is bread, how will they survive in the wild without people tossing them bread all the time?" You replied with a hint of sarcasm. She scoffed and playfully nudged you. "Alright, smartass," she said, you nudged her back, both of you giggling like children. "I'm surprised a know-it-all nerd like you didn't know that," you teased her. "Nerd, huh? you actually like this nerd" she retorted teasingly, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she pointed at herself. "Do I, now?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. You couldn't take back your words after all, you did like her and you made sure to tell her, let's say... pretty often.

"Oh yeah, you do," she chuckled, nodding her head playfully. The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence, watching the ducks swim around in the pond. Suddenly, she turned to you, her expression serious. "Listen, I was thinking...you know how we're going out on dates and all," she started, her voice hesitant. Your head snapped to look at her; your heart was beating like crazy, not that it usually wasn't due to your syndrome, but it felt crazier than usual. You felt your palms start to sweat, and you grew more nervous by the second. "Yeah?" you prompted her, waiting for her to continue. "I guess what I'm trying to say is...we already act like a couple, so...will you be my girlfriend?" she finally gathered the courage to ask, her eyes locked on yours.

She seemed a bit tense, although you couldn't understand why. After all, you had told her multiple times before how much you liked her, and the two of you had been acting like a couple for quite some time now. You gave her a cheeky smile "Of course I want to," you said confidently, jumping right into her lap, feeling a sudden burst of excitement as you wrapped your arms around her.

Your love was pure and genuine, and it was evident from the little things you did for each other. She would leave little notes around your room or in your bag whenever you left for a second. These notes would remind you of her love for you, and you would return the gesture by hiding notes in her notebooks or in her journal. She would find them the next day during her classes, and it would brighten up her day.

"you look so pretty"

"are you a keyboard? cause you're just my type ;)"

"i love your freckles and i love you"

"hope you're having a good day :) ps. no more pickup lines im begging D:"

Your love was spontaneous and full of small handmade gifts, full of drawings from her part and origami from yours. Once in a while she'd even write and play songs for you, which had you smiling like an idiot cause how romantic was that?

She was always too caring, and she would make sure that you were feeling okay despite your heart disorder. She would accompany you to your doctor appointments and never leave your side, even though you would tell her she didn't need to be there. Unlike your parents who had always been overprotective, she was always looking out for you without being too much. Since you were the "sick" one between the two of you, she always had trouble accepting help from you, especially when she felt sick or was on her period. But you always insisted on taking care of her, making her chicken soup whenever she had a horrible cold, and ensuring that she took painkillers for her period cramps. You always made sure that she had enough pads and her favorite snacks or helped her through one of her panic attacks. Soon, she got used to it and would always be a whining mess when she was sick, hoping you would cuddle with her or baby her. She loved it more than she liked to admit.

On your anniversaries, you would surprise each other with flowers. The first time you had ever gotten her flowers (which was on your first date), she accepted them with teary eyes, saying that none of her ex-girlfriends had ever gotten her flowers or treated her like a woman; you loved the idea of being her first in something — you didn't get to be her first kiss or her first time in...that, but at least you were the first girlfriend who treated her right.

Your first time together was so special and intimate, it made you feel truly alive. The way she was so gentle and caring towards you left an indelible imprint on your heart. Her touch was like a soft breeze on a calm summer day, sending shivers down your spine, and being with her made you feel like you were safe from the rest of the world. You remember how her tender gaze made you feel like the most special and beautiful girl in the world, making your insecurities fade away. The way she held you close, with a warmth that engulfed you, made you feel comfortable in your own skin. It was your first time ever, and you confided in her about not having much experience. She reassured you that she would teach you, show you the way, and make you feel good, and good Lord, if she kept that promise.

It was a warm and peaceful afternoon, the sun was shining brightly outside, casting a warm glow into the room. You and your girlfriend were both lounging on her comfortable bed, enjoying each other's company in silence. While she was intently watching an action movie, you were lost in the pages of a captivating book. Your attentive eyes scanned each line and paragraph, immersing yourself in the story and oblivious to your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, Ellie was growing increasingly impatient, huffing and puffing in an attempt to get your attention. Her huffs were airy at first, but as time went on, they became more forceful and pronounced, hoping to grab your attention and draw you away from your book.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to her, you turned your head gently towards her, lowering your book ever so slightly "What's wrong, Els?" you asked, concerned. "Put it down, I wanna cuddle." she responded, snatching the book out of your hand and placing it on her nightstand. You couldn't help but smile at her neediness, finding it adorable. "Fine," you sighed playfully, "Needy," you added under your breath, rolling your eyes at her. But she caught your comment, "What? Did you say somethin'?" You couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction as she pulled you on top of her and wrapped her arms around you. "Oh, nothing," you innocently replied.

"Comfy? Anything hurts?" she asked in a gentle tone as she rubbed your back in a slow and soothing motion, and you instantly relaxed under her touch. You took a deep breath, the tension in your muscles slowly fading away. "I'm okay, — m'comfy" you reassured her, feeling grateful for her care and existence in general. You hugged her tightly, burying your head in her chest. You could feel the warmth radiating from her, and the steady beats of her heart were a comforting sound.

You both cuddled up in silence, movie still playing softly in the background. As she kept rubbing your back, you gently scratched her arm something that usually relaxed her. After a little while, you felt compelled to express your feelings and whispered, "I love you." Even though you couldn't see her face, you could hear the smile in her voice when she replied, "Love you more, babe." You remained comfortably nestled in her chest, head buried in her grey hoodie. When you finally lifted your head from her chest, you gazed into her beautiful green eyes, already looking at you with so much affection that made your heart skip a beat. "You mean the world to me." you confessed, her eyes softened even more, and her heart swelled with love for you. She was the perfect girlfriend, always so loving and respectful, and you couldn't ask for anyone better. Finally, she leaned in and kissed you slowly and tenderly, a soft kiss that soon turned into something passionate and full of desire. She rolled on top, pinning you down with her weight, her hands roaming all over your body. She squeezed your waist, your hands cupping her freckled face to keep her close. She sighed quietly into the kiss, her fingers tugging at your tank top, and you knew what that meant — she wanted it off. And to confirm your thoughts, it was Ellie herself. She pulled away, lips slightly swollen and pink. Despite her best efforts, it was pretty evident that she was struggling to control her breathing as she panted uncontrollably, both because of the intense making out and her arousal growing by the second. Her face was flushed; she looked at you to gauge your reaction to her silent request, to which you responded with a little nod. "I'm ready," you uttered timidly, feeling your cheeks getting warmer. "Are you sure? We don't nee-" you cut her words off, repeating yourself, "I'm ready," this time sounding a bit more firm and confident of your choice. She mimicked the slight nod you gave her a few seconds ago, loose strands of auburn hair falling out of her little bun framing her face, her eyes never leaving yours.

She leaned in once again, giving you a peck on your moist lips before kissing your jawline and down to your neck. "Can i touch you?" she asked between damp kisses she left on your neck, "I don't know, can you?" she chuckled and began to suck purple marks on your soft skin as she slipped her hand underneath your tank top, brushing against your bare stomach before reaching her target — your tits. She cupped one of your tits, feeling the fabric of your bra. Your breath hitched, your cheeks were flushed and you were grateful she was too focused on your neck to notice "Can I take it off?" she questioned between cute smooches sounds, "Yeah," you breathed out, looking back into her eyes.

When she did, you were left in nothing but your bra, the visible scar near your shoulder making you feel uncomfortable, same with the implanted pacemaker under your skin, it was visible and you hoped it didn't gross her out. You couldn't help but look away from her, suddenly feeling ashamed for something you had no control over; it was something so small yet so significant for you.

You felt her index and middle finger gently pressing under your jawline to turn your head towards her and make you look into her eyes once again. Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper, as she spoke to you in such a tender tone. "Hey," she started softly, sensing your insecurity. "You're beautiful, alright?" Hearing those words from her sent chills all over your body, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. She continued, "We'll go slow. If something feels wrong, you let me know, okay?" Her words were reassuring, and you could feel her gentle touch on your face, holding it firmly so that you couldn't look away. You nodded in response to her words, suddenly feeling shy in front of your girlfriend.

After less than a few minutes, both of your clothes were off, thrown carelessly somewhere in the room. She still had her sport bra on and her underwear while you only had your underwear on. She trailed down, kissing all over your bare chest and breasts, and your scar, the one you were insecure about "smooch smooch..so pretty, smooch beautiful, my pretty girl" she kept murmuring under her breath causing goosebumps to rise all over your body, your nipples stood erect and hard, begging for some attention. She chuckled when she felt your sensible nub harden under her palm, "Didn't mean to make the ladies feel neglected" she joked, her voice was husky. She looked up at you with a cocky grin, and you felt your cheeks heat up even more; you chuckled awkwardly and rolled your eyes at her attempt to tease you about something you couldn't control. "Why are you always like this?" you rhetorically asked with a playful smirk, she shrugged and gave you a lopsided smile as she began to kiss your chest and attack your nipples with her mouth. "mmphh" you let out; a pathetic attempt to swallow a small moan when she sucked on one of your nipples and pinched the other. You bit down on your lip, and you could feel her smile at the small sound that came from you as she continued to work on your tits.

She trailed her hand down your abdomen, her fingers dancing around the waistband of your underwear teasingly. You couldn't deny the arousal building in your panties and at the pit of your stomach, you could feel the uncomfortable stickiness forming in your undies. So fucking wet. Leaving moist kisses all the way down to your belly button, then she stopped. She looked up at you, cheeks flushed just like yours and her eyes looking for a sign of your consent. She wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable with the way she was exploring your body, feeling it, and touching it. "I'm ready, Ellie. I promise" you repeated, your voice was soft and still timid.

"If you want me to stop, just tell me to, okay?" she told you once again and she didn't resume what she was doing until you gave her a light nod. She spread your legs, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the darker spot of your panties, you were so fucking wet. She hissed something under her breath that you couldn't quite catch. Seeing how wet she made you only served to boost her ego (as if she wasn't cocky already, the last thing this girl needed was a boost of her ego). "God, you're so wet," she couldn't help but voice her thoughts. "Thanks, Einstein, I haven't noticed," you responded with a hint of sarcasm, perhaps hoping to divert attention away from your embarrassment. She chuckled and an amused smile appeared on her dotted face, her brows jolting up. "Don't you give me the attitude" Before you could say anything back, her digits gently pressed on your still-clothed pussy, making your hips jerk away and a little moan escape your lips. Your face was on fire as you registered the lewd sound that accidentally left your lips. "That's what you get," A broad grin of pride spread across her face, and a fleeting pout that she found endearing appeared on your face "Oh, what? You mad at me, now?" she continued to taunt you, you let out a deep sigh and turned your gaze away.

"Shut up — god, why are you so annoying even in moments like this?" You covered your eyes with the sweaty palm of your hand as you spoke, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You could hear her giggle at your shyness, and it was evident that she enjoyed teasing you and playing with your emotions.

"C'mon pretty, m'just messin' with you." but she couldn't stop snickering to herself, finding your reactions quite funny. "Look at me," she commanded in a gentle tone, and you complied; you moved your hand away from your face and looked down at her, who was positioned between your spread thighs. "Want me to stop?" she questioned again, making you huff in response "Ellie. If you ask me that one more time, i swear—"

"Jesus, just making sure, no need to be so feisty about it" her fingers hooked under the waistband of your pink panties, tugging it down and freeing your dripping cunt. "Do I seriously make you this wet?" she was in disbelief, watching the string of precum that connected your pussy to your damp panties she had just pulled down.

"No, I was secretly thinking of Megan Fox, imagining her on top doing naughty things to me," you sarcastically retorted. She gasped dramatically, acting offended. Such a drama queen she was. "I consider that cheating." She played along, keeping that fake offended demeanor on. You laughed softly at her silly expression. "Okay, then, you caught me. Mentally cheating on you right now," you joked.

"I see how it is" You laughed again, and she scoffed, but she wasn't actually pissed at you.

She began kissing your inner thigh, the ache between your thighs becoming almost unbearable. "Els..." you had this whiny hint in your voice, growing visibly impatient, "Hm?" she hummed back, switching to your other thigh, going near your pussy but never actually touching you where you wanted her to. You moved your hips close to her face, but she moved away. "What do you want?" she asked teasingly, playing dumb. Fuck, you hated her guts for doing that. "You know what i want" she clicked her tongue under the roof of her mouth "Don't think I do" you sighed, frustration slowly creeping up inside you "Please?" your voice was delicate, almost as if you were begging her to let you try her fries or asking her to buy you something. She smirked, seeing you all horny and desperate yet still struggling with your words, too shy to tell her what you wanted directly. "Please what?" she encouraged you, that obnoxious cocky grin never leaving her face; she was making fun of you at this point. But you stayed quiet. "Can't read your mind princess, you gotta use your words."

"Touch me?...please?" your voice above a whisper but she heard you, you could tell she did from the satisfied expression casting over her features. "Sorry? Louder. Couldn't hear you" that cunt. You knew she did hear you and that she just wanted to hear it again so, you tried your best to push your shyness aside and please her. "Touch me, Ell-" But she was growing way too impatient, pressing her thumb on your clit, you let out a strangled moan and your hips jerked away at the sudden contact, but she pulled you closer again. Between the two of you, the more impatient one was probably her. Poor baby couldn't even let you say it twice, she was already torturing your aching nub, drawing small circles on it.

"Feeling good?" she questioned, her eyes studying your every reaction to her touch. She knew you felt good but still needed to hear it from you. "Yeah," you breathed out, your breathing becoming more elaborated. "Remember to breathe from your nose, baby. Don't want your heart to go crazy over a little excitement — if it gets too much, tell me." she thoughtfully said. "I'll be fine" you reassured her, grabbing her other hand to squeeze it.

In no time, her lips were on your clit, gently sucking on it. She moaned on it, almost as she she was the one getting head. She could feel her pussy starting to ache, the fabric of her undies sticking to her pussy, but she couldn't help it. The way you sounded, your cute expressions and your pretty pussy were just too much to bare for her. "So fucking beautiful," she mumbled, pulling away from your pussy for a second. She slid a finger inside you and you arched your back, pushing your hips to her face to seek for more contact "This okay, yeah?" her voice was rasp. You whined in response "Ooooh look at her, think she loves me" it took quite a few to understand that she was talking to your pussy instead "God, w-why are you so…" you tried to hide the turmoil in your voice but you interrupted your own words with a slutty moan that left your throat as soon as she pushed her finger deeper into you.

"Fuuuck" you grunted, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and the grip on her hand tightening. "So responsive," she chuckled. "Ellie, shut..up," you whined, moving your hips slowly to meet her thrusts. "Can't even talk without moaning, so nasty." she snickered, acting like she was totally unaffected by your pretty moans. She was fucking soaked, humping into absolutely nothing, not that you could notice it, too focused on the way she was making you feel. The gushing sounds riverbed throughout Ellie's bedroom, and she absolutely fucking loved it. She loved seeing you like this, whimpering and writhing under her touch, so ethereal, your body was pure art to her.

"M-more" you stuttered, panting a bit, your chest raising and falling quickly "More, huh?" she echoed mockingly, sliding another finger into your little honey jar, wetness dripping down to her knuckles from how wet you were. "Gahh-uhhd" you let out incoherent words, she groaned, feeling your walls clenching around her fingers and feeling her own clenching around absolutely nothing. "Like this, yes?" she questioned in a breathy voice, her brain suddenly struggling to make out sentences that made sense, too mushy to say shit and all because of you. If you only knew how long she waited to see you like this — touch you like this. "Uh-aahh" you trapped little whimpers inside your mouth, biting hard on your bottom lip again. "Nah-uh let me hear you," she immediately scolded you, shaking her head in disapproval, but you didn't listen.

Her face lowered to your pussy, lips attaching to your throbbing clit, teasing it with the tip of her tongue, switching between circling it and sucking it gently. Your mouth hung open, arching your back and bucking your hips against her face as you let out obscene moans. She moaned against your core, a mixture of her own spit and your juices covering her chin. "Taste hmmsoo good" Your other hand reached down to move pieces of her hair out of her face. "Ellie, I-i think I'm gonna-" you trailed off, not that she needed you to tell her, she could feel you squeezing her digits as she kept hitting that soft spot inside you. "Gonna cum, baby? wanna cum for me, beautiful?" she cooed.

"God..I love you so fucking much," she hissed under her breath; you moaned loudly in return, riding her fingers "Babe, m'gonna cum" you squealed, high-pitched moans reverbing throughout her apartment. "i'm here, princess" she cooed, squeezing your hand that she had been holding this entire time, so clingy. She wanted to ensure you knew she was there for you, not only to please you. That little feeling that had been building up in your stomach snapped like a rubber band, milking her fingers as she let you ride your orgasm. Curses falling from both of your lips, your muscles spasming and squeezing her fingers — god if she loved the way your body was reacting to her.

"I know, i know, I'm here baby" she whispered sweetly when a few whiny whimpers left your mouth. When you came down from your high, she withdrew her fingers and sucked them clean, her eyes locked with yours as she did so "You're so nasty" you giggled, feeling yourself blush again "You're the one who came all over my fingers" she teased you, crawling up to kiss your lips. Your tongues tangled together and you could taste yourself on her tongue. You place your hands on her waist, pulling her body closer to yours.

"You must be tired, angel." She reluctantly pulled away, an inch away from your lips as she spoke. "Want me to leave you all wet and needy?" you inquired in disbelief, lifting your brows up at her reluctance. Her eyes silently begging you to touch her, but she still preferred to put your health over her needs. That's how caring and loving she was. "I'm just saying you don't need to push yourself if you feel tired," she repeated.

"Oh, Ellie…" you sighed, pulling her underwear down and taking her by surprise. She seemed to be internally struggling to find the right thing to say, but you preceded her, "Think I can't handle a little fun?" you purred, growing bolder in your actions. You cupped her cunt, feeling all her sweet juices cover your hand; she was so fucking soaked, it was almost unbelievable. "Only if you're sure," she answered, her breath hitching in her throat as she gulped thickly, already trying hard to suppress her cute little moans. "I'm sure you want this," you teased her, the corner of your lips curling up in a smile, almost as if to make fun of her; it was your turn now.

"I do, you know I do," she replied. It was so entertaining to watch her keep her breathing steady. You ran your index and middle finger through her glistening folds and began to tease her puffy clit, rubbing it slowly, almost painfully. "Fuck" she grunted, humping the palm of your hand, desperate to find relief; you hummed back. "Am I doing okay?" you asked innocently; despite your inexperience, you could tell she loved it, and you high-fived yourself for the little mental notes you took while she was touching you just a moment ago. She grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers to her entrance. "Finger me," she commanded with a raspy voice.

She let out a small gasp when you thrusted into her slowly. "Like this?" you could feel her walls clenching around your inexperienced fingers, "Uh-huh," she bobbed her head, positioning your hand just how she wanted it, guiding you as she rode your fingers. "Fuck, you're so messy — so wet for me," you muttered under your breath, pulling her closer to you; she was supporting her weight on her wobbly knees as she rode your fingers, burying her head into the crook of your neck. Your other hand rested on her hips, holding her in place and not allowing her to move as you kept slamming your fingers into her. The pleasure sounds she let out right into your ear only served to make you wetter and hornier than you already were — if that was even possible. It was almost like your inexperience melted away, with the sole intent of pleasing her. Immaculate sounds left her throat as she chased her orgasm on your fingers, and you couldn't help but groan pitifully after her. Your pussy already yearning for her again, struggling to hold onto the last shreds of sanity. "Just like that." Her voice was weak and breathy, it was fucking music to your ears, making you feel all types of things inside your tummy, butterflies perhaps? She couldn't even speak properly, struggling to suppress her slutty whimpers. Muttering filthy curses under her breath as you picked up the pace, hitting that spongy spot over and over; you could feel her whole body tremble and squirm in your hands. What made it better was knowing that you were causing it.

"You feel so good, El," you whispered in her ear, kissing all the cute little freckles spattered on her bare shoulder and collarbone "'m gonna cum" she gasped, her whimpers becoming more frequent and louder. Who knew she'd become a whiny mess when close to her orgasm, but for some reason, you found it adorable — like her life depended entirely on your fingers, cute wispy brows furrowed together in concentration. "Gonna cum on my fingers, pretty?" you purred. "Please…" she sounded so fucking needy it was almost ridiculous, but you slowed down instead, earning a groan from her part "Nonono, don't stop, pleaseplease," Her words were rushed, sounding like a kid who had just lost the most precious possession. "What is it that you said? Words, right? — you gonna be a good girl and ask or you just gonna cum like that?" for some reason, the idea of playing with her in such a vulnerable state turned you on. You wanted to see how far you could push her. She let out a shaky breath. "Can't believe you're doing this." She slowly shook her head in disbelief. Your digits pressed on the spot that almost made her squirt, and she squirmed. "Words." You spoke with a firmer tone, but you still had a playful, teasing smirk on your lips. "Swear to fucking god— next time, I won't go so easy on you," uttering a threatening remark followed by an imperceptible scoff. "I never asked you to go easy on me." Your pace slowed down even more, and she frowned at you.

"Can I cum? on your fingers? please." her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Her eyes were wide and glossy, her pupils dilated with desperation. "Such a goood girl El, such a good girl…cum for me" but all she could do was crash her lips against yours, leaving you no choice but swallow all her little noises. Her thighs trembled with each thrust, her legs parting slightly to allow better access as your fingers kept thrusting in and out of her wetness harder and faster, causing her to moan into your mouth.

When she came down from her high she collapsed against you, your bodies glistening with sweat, still breathing unevenly. The first thing she said when her breathing went back to normal was "I think I'm gonna marry you," before dissolving into a fit of giggles. You couldn't help but chuckle along with her. "I'm flattered. I guess you liked it then?" you responded, wrapping your arms around her. She snuggled into your chest, a contented smile on her face. "If I liked it?" she repeated, incredulous. You laughed softly, "Well, did you?"

"You were lying when you said it was your first time, weren't you?" she asked teasingly, furrowing her eyebrows at you and looking at you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "I take that as a compliment," you smirked, not giving her a straight answer, her eyes carefully studied your features, analyzing every crease and contour, searching for any sign of deception "No, seriously. Were you a virgin?" she asked again, still in disbelief "I guess you'll never know," you said, teasing her further. "Come on. I'm your girlfriend. I'm supposed to know," she said, acting dramatic and waving her hands in the air. "Are you?" you asked teasingly, and she gasped in mock offense. "Excuse you? Am I not your girlfriend?" she asked, pretending to be hurt. You couldn't help but giggle. "I meant...are you supposed to know?" you teased her curiosity. "Pffttt whatever," she said, pretending to be offended and scooting away from you. You continued laughing at her antics. "Babe, where are you going?" you asked, still chuckling as you reached for her tattooed forearm and pulled her back towards you. "Girlfriends tell each other everything," she pouted playfully. "Right. Let's watch Jurassic Park and cuddle," you suggested, grabbing the remote to put the movie on.

You shared a bond that was unbreakable, and every experience you had together only brought you closer as if there was an invisible red string that seemed to connect the two of you, always pulling you closer and closer with each passing day. Your love for each other was like a never-ending flame that grew brighter with time. She never really stopped surprising you with little thoughtful gifts, and she even drew sketches of you when you weren't looking, and you both looked forward to creating new adventures together. She was always this huge simp for you, your number one supporter and fan.

After completing university, she asked you to move into her small but cozy apartment, which was basically a reflection of her personality. The walls were adorned with paintings she had made, stacks of comic books on her shelves, action figures, and her favorite movies and games collection. It was a delightful mishmash of all the things she loved. And slowly, your belongings started to mix in with hers. Her lonely toothbrush now had a companion, and her sneakers left by the door had an extra pair of shoes right next to them — your shoes. The dirty laundry was now a mix of colorful pink clothes and pastel colors, while hers were mostly grey or dark clothes. The wall hooks had more jackets hanging on them, and cute little stuffed animals were carefully placed on her your bed. The shelves filled with cute little plants that you both lovingly cared for, filling the empty gaps between an action figure and another. Living with her was a dream come true; you couldn't have been happier. You both had created a space that was uniquely yours, filled with love and a familiar warmth, it felt like family.

And before you knew it a new member joined your little family — a golden retriever. You had always dreamt of having a dog, but your parents never allowed you to have one when you were a kid. You had been talking about how much you loved the idea of having a furball running around your little apartment, ever since, Ellie had been secretly planning to surprise you with a cute little puppy. She had subtly asked you what kind of dog you would like, and she started doing her research. She had never owned a dog before, so she wanted to learn as much as possible about what puppies needed. Puppies required more than just toys and cuddles, after all they needed proper nutrition, and she was confused about what kind of food to get for the puppy. She went to the grocery store and found a wide variety of puppy food with different flavors and vitamins. After careful consideration, she picked out what she thought was the best one for the puppy. One day, she told you that she was staying out late for work; in reality, the poor baby had to drive for an hour to get the exact puppy she had seen on social media (Facebook, to be exact, Joel had helped her with that). The puppy was a beautiful golden retriever with a shiny coat and an adorable face. The drive back home with the puppy was mostly quiet, except for her talking to the honey-furred baby that sat there in the passenger seat in silence, looking at her lovingly.

The puppy's big, brown eyes had already stolen her heart, and she found herself speaking in a silly, high-pitched voice "I just know she's gonna love you," she cooed, her words directed at the adorable pup. "You're such a good girl, aren't ya?" she continued, praising the puppy for every little thing she did, even breathing. "You better not be stealing her from me too much, though, or else…" she trailed off, her voice filled with mock threats. But her playful words quickly turned to more affectionate ones as she gazed into the puppy's sweet eyes. "Gosh, you're so fuckin' cute," she whispered, her fingers gently caressing the puppy's soft fur while the other remained on the steering wheel "Wonder what your name will be," she hummed, tapping her fingers lightly on the wheel. She began to sing a song she had just made up on the spot, directed at the little furball who was wiggling her tail in excitement. "My cute little shrimp," she sang, her voice filled with love and affection, but when the puppy let out a little whine at her singing, she couldn't help but laugh at herself. "What? Am I that much of a bad singer?" she joked, her voice filled with self-deprecating humor. "Oof, tough crowd," she added, chuckling at her own joke "Just wait till I show you my guitar skills, you little shit."

When she finally made it to your apartment, she had to carry the little shrimp all the way up to the stairs cause the puppy was too scared to climb them and the elevator was currently broken. She had to take small steps to make sure she wouldn't trip over her own feet or something like that. "So heavy," she muttered under her breath before putting the pup down, her arms aching. She unlocked the door and you immediately called out your name. "You home, baby?" she heard from the kitchen, where she assumed you were washing the dishes because she could hear the sound of clinking plates. She responded, "Could you come here real quick? need your help with something." She left the dog outside on the doorstep, behind the wall and out of your sight.

You shouted from the kitchen, "Give me a second," before approaching her. She handed you a plastic bag filled with dog toys and bowls. You looked at her in confusion since you didn't own a pet. "What's this for?" you asked, puzzled. She didn't reply but simply moved to the side and clicked her tongue multiple times. The fur ball appeared and ran to you wiggling her tail. You slapped your hand on your mouth in disbelief, and your eyes widened in surprise, soon welling up with tears.

You got on your knees and held the pup close to you, hugging the fur ball tightly. "Oh my fucking god, iloveyouiloveyou," you kept rambling between cute sniffles, and she couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "Surprise, babe," she said with a small smile, kneeling down to pet the puppy in your arms. The puppy was small and soft, with big brown eyes and tiny paws. You couldn't believe how adorable she was.

"I love you so fucking much. She is so fucking cute. I can't believe it. I'm a mother now," you said, tears of joy running down your cheeks. She chuckled at your words, happy to see you so happy. "Yep, we're parents now," she played along, scratching the dog behind her ear. "What're we naming her?" she asked then, wiping the tears off your face with her thumb.

"Maple?" you sniffled hard, "Maple, I like Maple." You looked down at the little pup in your arms, and she looked up at you with innocent eyes.

Ever since the beginning, it was clear that Maple was more than just a pet; she was a member of your family. She was such a beautiful and intelligent dog, whenever you or Ellie came home, Maple would be the first to greet you with a wagging tail and excited barks that would fill the room with her infectious energy. She would jump up, her paws dancing in the air, and nuzzle her wet nose against your hand begging for cuddles and kisses. But Maple's abilities went beyond just being a dog. She had an incredible intuition that seemed almost human-like, and had a sixth sense when it came to reading emotions. She always seemed to sense whenever your heart was going a little too crazy and would nudge you with her nose to make you sit down. But your heartbeat wasn't the only thing she could sense; whenever Ellie was about to have a panic attack she could feel it, and if she was having one and you weren't by her side, she would come get you.

You remembered the first time this happened. It was a dark and stormy night, and you and Ellie had just gone to bed. You were sound asleep when Maple jumped up on the bed and began licking your face frantically. You thought she needed to go outside, so you groaned, "Babe, think Maple needs to-" You started, your voice still thick with sleep, but when your hand landed on the empty mattress instead of your girlfriend's shoulder, you instantly woke up.

Following Maple to the bathroom, you found Ellie sitting on the floor, tears streaming down her freckled face, and her breathing uneven. You knelt down in front of her and spoke to her softly, using a soothing tone to calm her down. You knew better than just to touch her; she seemed too absent and lost in her own nightmare to welcome such an invasion. "El, hey…I'm here, honey." As your gentle cooing reached her ears, she seemed to awaken from a trance, her terrified eyes locked with yours, fear etched across her beautiful features. "Hi baby, it's okay." you tried to calm her down, "i'm here, okay?" she was trembling with fear, and your heart sank. You gently placed your hand on her knee and tried to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. With a soft and soothing voice, you said, "You're safe now...let's take a deep breath together, alright?" You could see the tears streaming down her face as she tried her best to mimic your deep breaths. You kept encouraging her to take deep breaths in and out, and she slowly began to calm down. Maple sat in the corner of the bathroom, watching over Ellie with a concerned expression. When Ellie finally calmed down, you sat down next to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm here for you," you felt her body relax and her breathing steady. She leaned into your touch, and you could feel the tension in her body slowly dissipating. You were her anchor, her everything. You could feel her heartbeat slowing down as she rested her head on your chest, listening to the rhythm of your breathing. You kissed the top of her head tenderly, and she closed her eyes, taking in your scent. Suddenly, she rasped out, "I love you," her voice sounded weak, you knew she was exhausted "I love you more — Feeling better?" You ran your fingers through her messy hair, and she gave you a small nod in response. The golden furball walked to Ellie's other side and laid down, placing her head on her thigh. Ellie smiled weakly and petted her gently "My two favorite girls," you joked with a soft tone, trying to lighten the mood. An airy scoff left her nose as all three of you sat there, cuddling each other.

Maple was an essential part of your family. She was always there, no matter where you went. Sundays were extra special because Ellie would be at home all day. You would spend those days soaking up all her attention and going to the beach with her and Maple, your cute little meatball. There was nothing better than lounging under the warm afternoon sun, and Ellie bringing a big umbrella to shield you from the heat. While you played with Maple, she would often strum her guitar or sketch the two of you, looking at you with heart eyes as she captured the moment on paper. The sound of your laughter would fill the air, as you threw the frisbee to Maple and enjoyed the perfect beach day with Ellie by your side. You were all she ever wanted and she was all you ever wished for.

That's why she felt the need to take your relationship to the next level.

"Baaaabe" you shouted from the living room while browsing through the countless titles on Netflix. "Yeah?" Your girlfriend responded from the kitchen, her voice echoing through the cozy apartment as she paced around, probably making you something to drink. "What do you wanna watch?" your eyes casted across the big TV screen, the multiple titles illuminate your face, making it difficult to choose just one. You heard a sigh from the other side of the couch and looked over to see your beloved dog, Maple, ready to nap after a long day of work. poor dog.

"Uhhh…dunno, a horror movie?" she suggested, sounding unsure. "Wow, thanks for the help, Ellie. Always so useful," You retorted in a fake annoyed tone "Do you remember that new movie with Jennifer Lawrence I told you I wanted to watch?" she asked after a few moments of pondering, emerging from the kitchen with two steaming mugs in her hands. You raised an eyebrow at her and asked, "So, you wanna watch it for her, huh?" She laughed at your words and rolled her eyes. "C'mon, you told me to pick something, and I did," she explained handing you one of the mugs. "Careful, it's hot." You'd never seen this mug before, Ellie was obsessed with collecting new ones, so you didn't really pay attention to it. "Okay, fine, Jennifer Lawrence, it is," you said as you selected the movie she suggested. "Hi, baby," you heard her say in a high-pitched voice, and when you looked at her, you realized she was talking to the dog. "Hi baby? really? I'm literally right here." She giggled at your response and scooted closer to you, kissing your cheek. "Hi baby," she repeated her words, but this time in a sultry tone "Better."

You took another sip of your drink, but you could feel her gaze lingering on you. When you turned to look at her, she quickly averted her eyes and pretended to be interested in the TV. "What?" you asked, brows furrowing in confusion. "What?" she echoed back, acting like she hadn't been staring at you for the last 15 minutes. "No, you what" you repeated, her eyes darting from the mug in your hands to you. "You done with that yet?" she questioned, seeming almost too impatient. "Huh?" she cleared her throat, eyes wandering nervously around the living room for a few seconds before returning them to you again. "Are you done with your latte? Want me to make you more?" she rephrased it, trying to sound less nervous. You looked down at your mug for a second "Not yet"

Her eyes remained glued on you, eagerly awaiting for something, a reaction perhaps, you couldn't tell, she was just acting weird as hell. "Done?" she asked for the third time in a row, after every five seconds, but to her, it felt like an eternity. "Ellie, I swear—" You let out an exasperated sigh "What?" she replied, her voice laced with innocence. "No, seriously. You tryna poison me or something?" you joked,and she simply scoffed at your words and rolled her eyes at you. "Just drink it fast, god," she demanded, her impatience showing. As you take the last sip, your eyes caught a glimpse of a few letters printed on the bottom of the mug.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the words

Will you marry me?

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and before you could even process what was happening, you jumped into her lap, crying in her arms. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, and you could feel her heart beating in sync with yours. "Yesyesyesyes" you had whispered between sobs, your voice choked with emotion. Her eyes lit up with joy and she pulled away, revealing a small diamond ring in her hand. You looked at her in awe, realizing that that was the moment you had been waiting for your entire life. The woman of your dreams had asked you to spend the rest of your life with her, and you couldn't have been happier.

"I love you so much," you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as you watched her hands sliding the ring on your finger. She chuckled through her own tears and replied, "I think I love you even more." You sniffled and cupped her face, saying, "I love you with all my heart."

Ellie being Ellie, couldn't help but make a joke about that. She looked at you with a playful smirk on her face; she wiggled her eyebrows up and down and said, "All your heart, huh?"

With a grin, you replied, "It's beating like crazy for you." Then she asked if you wanted to hear a joke from her pun book, but you knew it was a rhetorical question. You prepared yourself for the inevitable dumb joke she was about to tell. "Ellie, I thought we talked about this." You fake scolded her, but she couldn't hold back her smile as she started her joke, almost as if she was about to make the funniest joke ever but everyone who knew Ellie knew that her jokes were...questionable. "Are you pulmonary embolism?" she proceeded, barely containing her laughter.

"Oh no," you frowned, rubbing your forehead. She then delivered the punchline with a wide smile, all proud of herself "Because you take my breath away." You looked at her with a deadpan expression and let out a sigh. You shook your head, and said "Can't believe I'm marrying you," trying to hide the smile that was starting to form on your lips. Ellie looked at you with a cocky grin "Right? I'm great like that — Talented, charming, great jokes...what else could you possibly want?" Rolling your eyes, you responded, "fancy package, lucky me"

After your laughter had subsided, you gazed into her captivating green eyes with a smile filled with affection. You were so deeply in love that it felt almost painful. You could hardly believe how fortunate you were to have found each other. The thought of spending the rest of your lives together filled you with joy and excitement. Both of you leaned in simultaneously, eager to feel the warmth of each other's lips in a tender and passionate kiss.

She was the person who made your life complete. You felt like you had been waiting for her all your life; your life always felt so dull and empty and you never understood why or what it was missing, until you met her. She was your soulmate, your best friend, and the love of your life. You couldn't imagine spending a single day without her by your side. She was the one who made everything better, who made you laugh with her stupid and corny puns when you wanted to cry, who held your hand when you needed comfort. You knew that you could face anything as long as she was with you. You were grateful for every moment you spent together and looked forward to spending the rest of your life with her.

On your wedding day, the weather was perfect, with clear skies and a gentle breeze that carried the scent of flowers from the nearby garden. It felt like a dream come true, and you couldn't believe the day had finally arrived. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you prepared to marry the love of your life. Sure, you were exhausted at the end of the day, but it was all worth it.

As you walked down the aisle, you saw everyone you loved and cared for, all gathered in one place to celebrate your special day. Ellie's closest friends, Dina and Jesse, Joel, your parents, and all your friends were there, beaming with joy and happiness. You were wearing a beautiful white dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, and Ellie couldn't help but cry when she saw you. Her dad rubbed her back, trying to calm the poor baby down, but the tears kept streaming down her face. You were a vision, and she couldn't believe how lucky she was to have you. Ellie was equally breathtaking in her suit, looking sharp and elegant, you couldn't take your eyes off her, she was so fucking fine. You exchanged vows, and it took her a while to finish reading hers, as she was choked up with sobs and emotions. You tried to comfort her by holding her trembling hands, but she was just a wreck.

When the time came for you to kiss your bride, the celebrant said, "You may now kiss your bride." Ellie looked at you with teary eyes, and you both giggled as you leaned in for a kiss, both of you smiling against each other's lips. That moment marked the beginning of your journey together as a married couple, but what mattered most was that you were both committed to being there for each other no matter what.

[endiness]

okay, i have gone through probably 50+ s2 interviews of hc researching this so far and i have to say that at this point i really don't see how he wasn't deliberately trying to manipulate the fanbase and the media against the writers and the show to get them onto his side. (and also, like, a very specific, extremely toxic section of the fandom at that.) (it's the sexist incel gamerbros. i'm talking about them.)

"I wanted to represent as much of a book-accurate Geralt as possible and a lot of the fans did as well, and so I campaigned really hard to make sure that he was more verbose, he sounded more intellectual, his choice of words was more thought out and that his approach to Cirilla and everyone else wasn’t antagonistic. Because it initially came across as he was just grumpy all the time with everyone and everything and I really wanted to show this three-dimensional character […] It’s gonna be tough to do the stuff which is as brilliant as Sapkowski’s writing, but it’s something I’m always gonna campaign for and it’s hopefully fit into the vision of the show."

there are so many interviews (ie virtually every interview out of 50+ with the exception of maybe, like, 3) where hc says the exact same thing about how he just cares so much about book accuracy, specifically where geralt's characterization is concerned, and that he really started to push for a more book accurate geralt in s2 and wanted him to be more verbose and intelligent and show that he isn't just a one dimensional character who just grunts and says hmm all the time like in s1 — and at no point does he ever take any responsibility for how that was due to his acting choices in the first place because he would cut his lines.

he also just straight up lies about the situation because the writers originally wrote geralt as being more verbose and book accurate in s1 but then changed the way they were writing him due to the acting choices he made. and yet he acts like that was never the case and that geralt was never originally written that way and he pushes this idea that a book accurate geralt went against lauren's vision. even though, once again, that was the original vision and it only changed due to him.

and on the extremely rare occasion (i'm talking, like, maybe 2 con panels here) that he ever takes any kind of responsibility for his role in all of that, he still waffles about and tries to present this image that he wasn't really cutting that many lines and they weren't really that important anyway and it didn't really matter:

"I didn't even cut that much. Just little bits when someone says how they feel, I thought if Geralt says nothing, and maybe the well-known grunts or hmms and sometimes the occasional f-word, people can take from that what they will."

even though that can't be true as confirmed by joey:

"Henry likes to cut his lines, 'cause he's lazy. No, he literally just likes to cut them. He likes to do more up here [frames his face with his hands] and just with face and hmms and grunts. There's a lot of hmms, and so I often have to take a lot of his lines and turn it into a lot of my stuff so that the plot happens."

and even hc himself confirms this and what joey said in a s1 interview:

"All the grunts, I either added or I didn't say anything and just grunted instead. It was often up to the other actors to go, 'I think he's not gonna say anything now.'"

i also have to point out that hc directly links his push for a more book accurate geralt to reading comments on reddit as i think that's very relevant to what section of the fandom exactly that he's pandering to and why he's been so vocal about it while lying about the role he played in everything and what actually happened:

"I’m on all the Reddit forums. I’m reading all the reviews. I’m literally trying to get everyone’s information. Some of it is not useful, and other criticisms are incredibly useful. I take it all in, and I look forward to bringing it even closer and closer to Sapkowski’s writing. I think any of those criticisms, they often lie in things like I was saying—we don’t have the advantage of a long involved conversation or dialogue with Geralt, so they are criticisms which I think I was prepared for. So for me, it’s about seeing that, understanding it, and working out how I can do my job better within the framework provided, [how to] appease and make those people feel comfortable that I do actually understand this character—and love this character just as much as they do."

"As a source for information, it's really helpful for me to see what everyone's saying, what everyone's thinking, and to see how much my thinking falls in line with whichever side of that spectrum it is and whether I'm doing the wrong thing, for example, by campaigning hard for the book Geralt to exist or whether I'm doing the right thing."

and just another important thing to point out imo: virtually the only times hc ever takes any responsibility in any capacity whatsoever for his own role in the show not adhering to the books (which even then he barely does and it's still always with a lot of excuses), it's only ever at con panels — which are far less likely to get picked up by news outlets and seen by a broader audience — and not in formal interview settings. (except for, i think, one interview he gave early on when s2 first went on hiatus. but even then, it still has the same problems that the con panels have where he comes up with a lot of excuses that don't match what happened.)

then there's an interview hc gave where he went on about how he added some book dialogue into a scene and he made it out to be like it was some kind of rebellion against the writers and he didn't consult them as he was just going to do what he wanted, consequences be damned:

"I did not feel like having long discussion about whether I could add this bit somewhere. So I just did it, said the words in front of the camera, and was ready to face the consequences."

and meanwhile what actually happened was that lauren eventually let hc have free reign and rewrite a scene that he was unhappy with. which, y'know. kinda fucking weird to present what happened in the way he did.

and then there's him pushing this narrative that the female characters — namely yennefer and ciri — were given more depth and focus than geralt and the male characters as if that came at their expense and all of which is somehow due to lauren's women-centric vision of the show as if that's somehow opposed to how the books themselves are:

"On season two, I wanted to bring as much of 'Book' Geralt into the show that Lauren's vision and that the plot would allow. That's a tricky thing to do, because the plot, as Lauren has said, is very centred around bringing women into the centre of The Witcher."

"In Season 1, there wasn't really much of an opportunity for expansive dialogue which Geralt is known for — in the books, he's often known to monologue — because we had two original origin stories which were the center point of the show."

"Lauren’s vision was more of an ensemble piece than the first Witcher books. It’s driven a lot more by the characters of Yennefer and Cirilla."

"I wanted to make sure we really explored as much as showrunner's vision could allow. She has her own plan, so I’ve got to toe that line between book Geralt and Lauren’s vision."

"I wanted to try and bring as much of the book’s Geralt into Season 2 as possible, and as much as the vision, the plot and storylines would allow. The toughest part for me was finding that balance between the showrunners’ vision and my love for the books, and trying to bring that Geralt to the showrunners’ vision."

"It’s important for me to have the character be three-dimensional and it’s tricky to do, as I was saying earlier, because there’s a certain vision and there’s a certain set, storyline and plot. And so, it was about me trying to find Geralt’s place within that."

"There’s only so much space to provide the same character from the books within the showrunner’s vision. But, I did my best to provide a bit more of a three-dimensional character with a bit more emotionality."

"It's important to me that the men in the story are three dimensional as well."

like, first off — and not to continually reiterate this but — that's not true. in s1, geralt was originally written as being just as verbose and intellectual as he was in the books and that only changed due to hc cutting his lines and we know that joey often had to take his lines, too. so there was, in fact, always plenty of time for geralt to be book accurate and for yennefer and ciri to have their own focus. these things were never mutually exclusive and it's definitely some kinda take to imply otherwise.

secondly, while it is true that geralt is the main character of the short stories, ciri is the main character of the main series starting from blood of elves, the book that s2 adapted. and despite claims otherwise, her pov has always had the most focus — yes, even more than geralt (sans baptism of fire, obvs.) and it's not like ciri is the only female pov, either, or that there aren't other important female characters that make up the series. there's yennefer, triss, milva, philippa, fringilla, nimue, condwiramurs, kenna — and that's just off the top of my head. there are plenty more where that came from. women and their stories have always played a central role in the books. nothing about that goes against them or is unique to lauren's vision.

and just with boe in particular, like. triss's pov is either focused on more than geralt's or at least about as much as his depending on how you want to break things down. and with dandelion following very close behind them, too! like, ciri may be the main character of the main series and geralt may be the main character of the short stories and their povs are the most focused on overall, but the books are still very much an ensemble piece made up of a collage of many, many povs to paint a full picture of the universe. and, yeah, the women make up a huge part of that. so the show focusing on ciri and yennefer and the women — and, yes, the men as well because it does actually do that! — is um, still book accurate. so y'know, why the fuck is he presenting this idea that's somehow not the case.

in general, hc emphasizes in a lot of interviews how much he fought for "male characters to be three dimensional." which yeah, given the context of everything else, is some suspicious kinda phrasing because it gives this undertone that the show wasn't writing three dimensional male characters in the first place as opposed to the women and that it's only due to his efforts that anything changed.

also, i have to highlight this quote of him talking about the three dimensionality of men because ~curious that he omits women from the list of people real menTM can be loving and caring toward:

"I believe that real men are very sensitive. They are very capable of doing things which can be violent, if possible, or necessary. But at the same time, they are incredibly capable of love and caring amongst men and towards children and family and all sorts."

and then there's the way hc talks about changing things which comes across as so suspicious, too, imo. especially when there is every other cast member to compare him to. because the way the rest of the cast has talked about this is that they all very consistently say that the whole process is very collaborative and that lauren is very much willing to hear them out about their thoughts and concerns and that it really feels like a team effort and that everyone is working together. and meanwhile the vibes that hc gives off is either "me vs the world (ie the writers)" or "but there's nothing that i can really do to change anything and it's all on the writers~" either way, his attitude very much comes off like all bad decisions are the writers' fault but meanwhile any good decision was due to him and him alone (or maybe the rest of the cast, but definitely not the writers.) like, weird af to play it off that way especially since every other cast member didn't seem to have any problems and they all gave credit where credit was due ie to lauren and the writers.

in conclusion, it'd be one thing if hc had just taken the l and admitted that he is the one who fucked up geralt's characterization in s1 and so he sought to rectify that in s2. but yeah, he doesn't really do that. instead he lies over, like, 50 times to create this narrative of him pushing for book accuracy as if that's somehow in opposition to lauren and the writers and as if they didn't originally write geralt book accurately in the first place and as if he played no role in the lack of book accuracy at all. and then that there's also him pushing this subtle (or not so subtle) narrative about how the women were taking a more central role as opposed to the men and that's somehow unlike the books and something purely due to lauren's vision, too? even though women have always played a central role in the books to the point where ciri is the main character of the main series? and that he's directly linked this narrative he's pushing to reading comments on reddit? (and that he also has a history, since s1, of trying to cater to game stans?) yeah, i just don't see how this doesn't add up to him trying to manipulate the media and audience — especially the worst parts of the fanbase — against the writers and the show and onto his side.

(also just one last thing i'd like to note as i find it super weird that when hc was asked about giving freya any advice, he immediately shut down the notion that he would ever do anything like that and he would never offer her any unsolicited advice and he would only ever give her any if she came to him first. like, there are literally s1 and s2 interviews where freya talks about hc giving her advice. i mean, maybe she did come to him in the first place, idk. but the immediacy in which he shut down the idea that he would ever do anything like that as if offering someone younger than you advice and being a mentor to them is wrong… weird. sus, even. like, why are you scrambling to cover your ass for something that's not even bad and, also, why are you lying about it by omission in the very least.)

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k words

warnings: explicit language, a lil bit of angst w/ a wholesome ending<3

summary: in which you and steve take a late-night trip to your favorite diner

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

It was four long hours of your life that you’d never get back. But, you were glad that all of the work that you had to force yourself to do all night was finally over. 

It was somehow always in moments like these— where you procrastinated until the last possible second to do something that had been assigned weeks ago— that you sincerely wanted to drop out of college; and you’d barely even been there three months. But you also knew that you definitely could not do that because of your parents. 

So, instead of even pondering that thought too much, you pushed through and forced yourself to start and finish a project for your Psychology class that involved a shit ton of writing and research. It was a project that now made your head pound heavily in your skull from focusing on that one tedious thing for hours upon hours. 

With a loud sigh, you closed the books you had open and then stood up from your desk. A part of you wanted to immediately flop onto your bed and fall asleep, but then there was the other part that wanted to do something else entirely. And then suddenly the thought of the diner that was only ten minutes away and had amazing milkshakes became the only thing on your mind.

You switched out of the wrinkly old t-shirt you had on and put on a different oversized one that was less wrinkled, and then slipped on a pair of sweatpants. Steve was sleeping right then, you were pretty certain of it, but you still wanted to give him the opportunity to partake in this impulsive late-night decision you were making. So, when you exited your room, you headed toward his and walked in. 

You refrained from turning on the light because you didn’t want to startle him awake, and instead simply sat down on the edge of his bed and lightly poked his back before whispering, “Hey.”

He only shifted a little bit and didn’t turn to face you. “Hm?”

“I just finished my stupid fucking midterm project for Psych and I’m going to the diner because I’m in dire need of a strawberry milkshake. You wanna come?” 

“It’s one in the morning,” He mumbled, still barely moving and you weren’t entirely sure how he was actually able to be so accurate with what time it was. 

You took his response as his way of saying no without actually saying it. And honestly, you weren’t too surprised by that answer because it was then that you remembered that his shift at Family Video earlier had been longer, and apparently more annoying, than usual. So, you decided not to try and further convince him to come to the diner with you. 

“Okay, I’ll be back in an hour,” You said as you got up from his bed. “I’ll bring you back onion rings and your own milkshake. You can have it for breakfast when you wake up.”

“I’ll come,” Steve said before you left the room. He finally shifted around and sat up so that he was facing you. “The onion rings will suck in the morning.”

“Very true,” You nodded and then smiled as he got up and found a random hoodie to put on. “I’m sorry for waking you up, but I’m glad you’re joining me on this little adventure.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You drove Steve’s car, because you liked driving it more than your own, and he slept the entire ten-minute ride to the diner formally known as “Third Street.” The name had always been somewhat amusing to you because the small place was actually on a street called Cliffview. 

It was empty aside from one man sitting at the counter with a coffee mug in his hand and a woman occupying a booth, reading a book with a soda and a plate of fries in front of her. You briefly wondered what their stories were, what brought them to a diner at nearly one-thirty in the morning. 

You and Steve took your usual seats at the booth that you always sat at, and even though Robin and Eddie weren’t there at that moment, you two still decided to sit on the same side of the booth; it felt like second nature to do so. There was probably never a moment where you and Steve didn’t sit on the same side of any booth.

Since there was barely anyone in the diner right then, your orders were quickly taken by your waitress Cheryl, and they came out much faster too— a strawberry milkshake for you, a vanilla one for Steve, and a plate of onion rings for you two to share. 

You took a long sip of your drink and internally sighed in contentment because somehow that milkshake made all the work you’d done and the fact that you were keeping yourself awake to come here even though you were exhausted completely worth it. 

The two of you ate and drank your milkshakes in comfortable silence for a little while before Steve scooched down a bit in the seat and leaned his head on your shoulder.

“I actually am really sorry for waking you up,” You told him. “I forgot how long your shift was today, and I know you’re so fucking tired right now.” 

“The onion rings and milkshake make it okay,” He mumbled, and you couldn’t see him, but you had the strongest feeling that his eyes were closed. “Tell me about your project.”

You reached for your drink, taking a sip from it before responding. “Hearing about that will definitely put you to sleep.”

Steve hummed. “Maybe I wanna hear a bedtime story.”

You laughed a bit. “Okay, well in that case, definitely not because I don’t wanna get dirty looks from the other people in here when you start loudly snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Mhm, yeah, of course, you don’t,” You said, the sarcasm completely evident in your tone, and he poked your side which made you laugh again.

You placed your hands in the pocket of the hoodie he was wearing because they were cold from you holding your glass. “Okay, this has nothing to do with that dumb project… But, um, how mad do you think my parents would be if I dropped out of school?”

Steve’s answer came immediately. “They would blame me somehow and kill me.”

“That would quite literally never happen,” You said with a shake of your head. “My parents love you too much to be mad at you for longer than even an hour.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe that’s true. So, instead, they’d actually kill you, and then that would suck more for me than you because I’d have to live without you.”

“I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” You said with a small laugh before grabbing an onion ring.

“But, anyway, you’re not quitting school, so this hypothetical situation doesn’t matter,” Steve told you and then lifted his head off of your shoulder so that he could take a quick sip of his milkshake. “You were barely able to convince them that you didn’t want to go to the University of Chicago. I think they’re still somewhat in mourning over that.” 

Probably from the moment you became old enough to even think about college, your parents were pushing the idea of the University of Chicago onto you. Both of them had gone so it felt like the obvious choice for you to “follow in their footsteps;” well, the obvious choice mainly in their eyes. And for a while, you were okay with going in that direction because it felt like an easy option, and you were way too fucking smart not to get in, and when January rolled around you found out that you did. 

But then the thought of leaving Indiana, leaving your friends, leaving Steve, became something that no longer felt “okay” to you. And then there was the fact that you were still completely unsure what you even wanted to do, so it felt dumb to you to go to a school that was really good and really expensive without a solid “plan” for your future.

However, your parents were way too persistent and strong-willed to let you give it up that easily. So the compromise that was ultimately settled upon was that you’d do the two years of community college here at the one close by and then you’d transfer to the University of Chicago and finish your last two years there.

At first, the thought of that felt fine to you, but now it felt like something that you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to do anymore, even though it was still basically two years away. 

“Sometimes it just feels like a waste of time,” You said with a small sigh. “I still haven’t found that thing yet. My thing. What I wanna do.”

“You’ll find it.”

“Maybe it would be a good thing if I did quit, though. I could work at Family Video with you and Robin. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Yeah, it would be,” Steve nodded. “But, you don’t really wanna do that.”

You started picking at the now half-eaten plate of onion rings that sat between you two. “Technically, that’s true. But, that’s only because I don’t know what I wanna do at all.” 

“I think you just gotta give it some time. You’re way too smart not to be in college right now. One day you’ll walk into some class and it will all just suddenly click into place for you,” He told you, and he sounded so certain and sure. 

Somehow his encouraging words always managed to placate your thoughts; the type of existential thoughts that would usually only happen in the middle of the night. And you were glad that you had Steve to pull you back up before you spiraled harder. 

You let his words sit for a second before you slipped out of the booth and went over to the counter, smiling at Cheryl as you paid the bill. When you went back, settling in your spot next to Steve, he slung an arm around your shoulders. 

“If you did actually quit school, I’d fully take the blame and let your parents kill me,” He told you.  

You knew that you weren’t going to do it; you’d never be able to muster up the courage to pull the trigger. Therefore, you would instead just continue to live in this awkward phase that felt weird at times and hope that it would eventually work itself out. 

However, it was still nice to hear Steve’s words right then. 

“Thank you,” You responded, smiling at him and then mimicking his words from earlier. “But if you did that, then I would be the one suffering more because I’d have to live without you.”

He nodded thoughtfully at that. “Okay, new plan then. We just let them murder both of us.”

You laughed a bit as you pushed yourself even closer to him, putting your hands into his hoodie pocket once again. “Deal.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[spaceyaceface]

you are a wildflower garden growing in my head

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC/Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: None

Summary: When she learns that Ominis Gaunt is well versed in floriography, she insists on him giving her lessons to learn the language of flowers. Thankfully, he ins't too hard to convince. Requested by @applinsandoranges

A/N: I loved researching Floriography a bit (or maybe a lot) for this fic!!! I'm sure it's not perfect, but I tried my best to be as accurate as possible. Thank you thank you THANK YOU to applins for requesting, I loved writing this so much!!!

Normally, the courtyard was pretty quiet—it was what made it an ideal place to study in the early spring, when the snow had just finished melting and trees had started to bud. She and Ominis had made a habit of sitting out there in the late afternoons, when Sebastian was serving his various detentions. 

That day didn’t seem to qualify for normal. 

Everett Clopton was chasing after a weeping Adelaide Oakes, who had burst out into wailing tears mere moments ago. 

“Addie, what did I do wrong?” Everett shouted after her, the flowers he had given her left on the ground where he had thrown them. “I’m sorry! Come back!” 

The ruckus caused quite the stir in the courtyard, students looking up from their studies to watch the pair—she herself couldn’t help but stop her reading, observing them with a furrowed brow. 

“What was all that?” Ominis asked from beside her. 

“Everett Clopton just gave Adelaide Oakes some flowers, then she ran off crying,” she summarized quickly. “Pretty unexpected turn of events. I always thought she returned his feelings.” 

Ominis frowned. “What flowers did he give her?”

She took a closer look at the flowers laying on the ground, tilting her head a bit. “They’re petunias, I think.” 

The loud laugh from beside her caught her off guard—Ominis usually contained his amusement pretty well, especially in public, so his loss of composure made her brow furrow. “What on earth is so funny?” she asked, perplexed. 

Ominis sat himself back up, taking a deep breath. Small chuckles still escaped him, but he seemed to have control of himself now. “Petunias,” he began, “Mean anger and resentment. No wonder Adelaide was upset.” 

Her own lips turned up in the corners. “Seems like poor Everett didn’t have a clue,” she said. “But to be far, neither did I.” 

“I’m not surprised Adelaide caught on,” Ominis said. “Hufflepuffs are usually more inclined to plantlife, aren’t they?”

“I suppose,” she replied. “Hold on, how do you know the meaning of petunias?”

She didn’t miss the slightest blush that covered Ominis’s cheeks. “My sisters,” he answered. “It’s a form of sending messages that normally wouldn’t be allowed to be shared when properly courting. They’d receive bouquets from suitors and would sit and talk about their meanings for hours, speculating it from every angle. I grew a bit fascinated by it, and learned what I could about the subject flower meanings.” He gave a small smile. “I know much more than the meaning of petunias.”

She smiled, thinking of a young Ominis delving into such topics. She rarely heard him talk about things he was excited about, especially from when he was younger. There was a certain glow to his features when he did—one that fit beautifully with his handsome features. It was subtle; something people who’d spent less time observing Ominis would likely have missed. But she had become somewhat of an expert in the slight expressions on her friends face—likely due to the extended periods of time she found herself staring at him. It had only gotten worse as they grew closer—as her feelings for him became stronger. 

“How come you’ve never told me about any of it?” she asked. 

He shrugged. “You never asked.”

“Well, I’m asking now.” 

He chuckled, hands reaching for his textbook once more. “Fine then. I’ll give you a lesson in floriography. Just give me some time to prepare for it. We better finish our Potions homework in the meantime; Sebastian will need someone to copy off of later tonight.”

She sighed, but didn’t argue. She’d hold him to his lessons, she’d make sure of that. 

-

It took a few days of pestering him until he finally told her he’d teach her about flowers later in the afternoon. She agreed to meet him by the Black Lake—the spring had started to warm up, and being near the water seemed like a wonderful idea. 

When she trekked down to their meeting spot, her eyes widened a bit at the scene. No wonder he had wanted to take a bit of time to prepare—he’d gone out and gathered a wide variety of flora, each of them sitting around him. She couldn’t help but think that anyone who didn’t know of their intentions would have taken the scene as a romantic one. 

He heard her approach, smiling up at her and patting the ground beside where he sat. “My student has arrived.”

“You better not assign me homework,” she said, sitting down. She enjoyed the chuckle her comment drew out of him. 

“I’m sure you’re busy enough studying for N.E.W.T.S. already,” he said. 

She groaned. “God, don’t remind me. I came to escape that for a while.” 

“Well, hopefully I won’t take up too much space in your head with this useless information.”

“Hang on,” she protested. “Don’t go calling it useless. Seemed like Everett would have benefited greatly with this knowledge. Besides, who knows when I’ll have a secret message to decode?” 

He faced away from her, busying himself by grabbing a couple of the plants beside him. Was his face a bit flushed–? Surely not. It was perfectly clear when his head tilted toward her once more. 

“As you learned not long ago, not all flowers are fit for a display of love or affection.” He smiled a bit. “In fact, a lot of them have sentiments more akin to the opposite. For example…”

He reached to his side, pulling forward a cluster of small flowers, bright pink with white on the edges of the petals. “These are China Pinks, or Indian Pinks. I’ve been told they’re quite lovely. But looks can be deceiving, as the mean the giver has an aversion for the receiver.” 

She laughed a bit. “That would be a shock to receive, I’m sure.” 

He grinned. “Precisely. If one wanted to be a little less harsh in their message, one could instead give someone everflowering candytuft—”

“Candytuft?” she interrupted, giggling.

He shook his head in mock annoyance. “Yes, candytuft. Don’t be fooled by its sweet name, it means indifference.” He placed a white flower with many layers down in front of her. 

“Are all these flowers a way of telling me how you really feel about me?” 

Ominis laughed at that. “No, I just wanted to give you a sample of some of the things you can say. Those last two are just as untrue of my sentiments for you as the message this next one conveys.” He showed her a small white flower with a yellow center and red dot on each petal. 

“What’s that one mean? I’m going to burn down your house?” 

“It means ‘I die tomorrow.’”

Her jaw dropped, and she couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh. “Do people really tell people things like that through flowers?”

Ominis shrugged, setting the flower aside. “They must, if it’s a well-known enough meaning.” 

“I’ll never look at flowers the same way again.” 

“They’re not all bad,” he promised. He continued with his lesson, bringing forth each flower he had brought. She listened to each one very attentively, thoroughly enjoying listening to him. He was right—it was a fascinating topic. She learned magnolias represented a love for nature. Mountain laurels stood for ambition. The colors mattered greatly, too—a red columbine meant anxious and trembling, while a purple one meant the giver was resolved to win.

By the time the sun came to rest on the horizon, her head was swimming with various names and meanings. They’d gone through all of the samples Ominis had brought her, and he seemed satisfied with the lesson he’d given her. 

“There better not be a test,” she said as he gathered up the flowers around them. He grinned. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not that cruel.”

The two of them stood, ready to be on their way. “I’ve got to visit Poppy about nifflers she says she spotted,” she told him, wishing she could spend the time it took to walk back to the castle with him. 

“Ah, of course. You and your beasts,” he said with a small smile. He shifted on his feet. “Before you go, I’d like you to have this.” 

He handed her a large red flower, tall and curving with strange petals sticking up all down the length of it. She took it from him, brows furrowed. “I don’t remember what this one meant. You haven’t showed it to me yet, have you?” 

“Not yet, no,” he said, voice quiet. 

“What’s it mean?” 

He smiled at her softly. “I’ll tell you soon enough.” 

And with that, he headed off toward the castle. 

-

She really tried not to think too much about the large flower occupying the vase in her dorm room over the next several days. Tried being the key word. Every time she walked into her room and saw it, she couldn’t help the slight flip of her stomach, remembering the slight blush Ominis had sported while handing it to her. 

Surely it was something simple and lighthearted. Surely it was some sort of jab or joke, and not any sort of… confession. He had spent that whole lesson talking about what flowers meant outside of romance, hadn’t he? Why would the gift he gave her at the end be any different?

Even so, she found herself checking out a book on floriography at the library, trying to learn the secret message he’d given her. So far she’d learned nothing of it. 

It didn’t mean she didn’t learn anything, though. 

It had taken them several days to find time for another one of their little lessons, with actual studies taking the unfortunate priority. But they promised to squeeze it in on a Saturday morning just before lunch. She’d woken up early to locate one of the things she’d latched onto while reading her book—a variegated tulip. 

Beautiful eyes, the book had told her. She figured if he got to tantalize her by giving her that flower, the least she could do was try to flatter him a bit into telling her. She hoped it wasn’t too forward; she’d told him his eyes were lovely before, but to do so in a language so dear to him—well, it just felt a bit intimate. 

In any case, she found herself headed to the very same shore of the Black Lake, seeing a scene much like the first time they had met there. Ominis sat there with a group of flowers, but this time, they were all bunched together, forming a mis-match bouquet. 

She grinned as she plopped down beside him, tulip tucked away. “That looks lovely.”

Ominis chuckled. “I hope so. All I know is it smells pretty decent.” 

“Is that how you tell all of them apart?” she asked. “The scent?”

He nodded. “That and the texture of the petals. Though I’ve gotten used to using my nose first—I’ve ruined a good number of flowers by manhandling them.” 

She laughed. “It’s a bouquet this time.” 

“Very observant of you,” he teased. She gave him a gentle shove in response, making him laugh. “Don’t abuse your teacher!”

“Don’t patronize your student,” she said, grinning. 

He shook his head. “As my amazingly brilliant and very astute student pointed out, I’m holding a bouquet—” she shoved him again— “which will be the focus of our lesson today.” 

“Permission to leave class early?”

“No.”

“Fine.” 

He chuckled, his fingers beginning to gently run along the different flowers he held in the bunch. “Last time we went over some of the more specific and less used meanings. Today I’m hoping to touch on some of the more common flowers, ones you’d be more likely to come across.”

“Sounds practical.”

“Precisely. I’ve gathered them in a bouquet for you—often times you’ll receive a bouquet so the sender can express more complex feelings, allowing the combination to give a better overview of their emotions and perception of you. So let’s dive in.” 

His finger pointed out a stem holding a few small white flowers. “These are white bell flowers, an expression of gratitude.” 

She hummed. “I like those ones. They’re pretty.” 

He smiled and nodded, turning the bouquet. “Here are oak-leaved geraniums, meaning true friendship.” 

She tilted her head, scooting a bit closer to him for a better look at the pink petals. “How sweet,” she said, smiling. 

His ears went a little red. “The next one needs a bit of an explanation as to why I included it in your bouquet, but—”

“Wait, my bouquet?” she asked. 

“Yes, your bouquet,” he said, red spreading to his cheeks and across his nose. “Now let me continue.” 

“I… carry on, then.” 

His fingers ran over the flowers he’d been indicating once more. “Water willows are representative of freedom. You’re always running off to some place, despite all the rules you should follow, so… freedom.” 

She nodded beside him. “That makes sense.”

He continued on, explaining the reasoning of each flower there in her bouquet. Each one made her heart beat a little faster—he’d spent all that time, thinking of her, picking out exactly the right words to describe her and what she meant to him. It left her grinning like an idiot as she tried to remember each and every thing he said. None of the things he brought up trailed into the realm of romance, but she didn’t need it to. Not now, at least. It was perfect, just as it was. 

“And there you have it,” he said finally. “Your bouquet.” He held it out to her, tilting his head away from her a bit. 

“I… I don’t know what to say, Ominis,” she said, taking it from him and holding it gently. “This is… you’re too kind.” 

“You don’t need to say anything,” he said quickly. “I thought a… demonstration would be best, to help you learn about it. Sorry if I overstepped—”

“You didn’t overstep anything,” she said. “I’m just glad I at least have something to give you in return. I’m sorry it’s not a full bouquet, but it’ll have to do.”

She pulled out her tulip, which looked a little pitiful next to his varied display. But she pressed it into his hand. He felt up the stem gently, and then froze.

“Is… is this a tulip?” he asked quietly. “What color is it?”

She furrowed her brows at his reaction. “It is. It’s a variegated tulip.” 

He let out a breath he must have been holding, a small smile coming to his face. “Beautiful eyes,” he said softly. “Thank you.” 

She couldn’t help but think his smile had a strange tainted emotion behind it—one she couldn’t quite grasp. “You’re welcome. Sorry it isn’t much.”

He tilted his head in her direction. “It’s perfect.” 

-

She couldn’t help thinking about Ominis’s reaction to her tulip the rest of the day. Something about it bothered her—the way he froze up at first, the strange tension in his voice. 

It wasn’t until she looked back at her book on floriography she thought she understood why. 

She’d looked back at the page on the variegated tulip, trying to see if there was something she missed, when her eyes drifted up to the entry just above it. 

Tulip; Red - Declaration of Love. 

Her stomach churned. That had to be it. Ominis had no way of knowing what color tulip she had handed him. For all he knew, she’d been about to confess her feelings to him. 

But had he been full of dread or excitement?

She racked her brain, trying to recall every last detail of his words, he tones, his movements. But to no avail. She was just as clueless of his feelings for her as before

The coming days didn’t help, either. As much as she tried to observe the way he interacted with her, all she learned was… well, that she loved him. She already knew that, of course. But she kept being reminded of all the little reasons why. 

Like the way he whispered snarky jokes to her in class. The way he smiled so slightly when he was amused. The way he walked her to class, even it made him late to his own. Everything about him, really. 

She loved that he made the time to have one final lesson, right before N.E.W.T.S., too. 

Being so sure of her feelings now, she decided to take a risk. Which was why, before she left for the Black Lake, she tucked a red tulip into the pocket of her robes. 

Maybe she’d use it. It was still up for debate—but she’d have it ready if there was even a chance he might feel the same. 

When she arrived at their meeting spot, Ominis was fiddling with the flowers around him. Much like the first time, they laid sprawled out, ready to be dealt with one by one. She came and sat across from him, smiling. “Well, here I am, at my final lesson,” she said. 

He chuckled. “I hope I’ve been a sufficient teacher.”

“We’ll see if I pass the test.” 

He let the smile linger on his face for a moment before moving to one of the first flowers beside him. “I feel like I’ve done a proper job of informing you the uses of flora outside of romance—however, it doesn’t mean it’s still not a large part of it.” 

The flower he held twirled in his fingers. She felt her cheeks heat up a bit—no, she couldn’t get too excited about this. Just because they were talking about love and affection didn’t mean…

“I feel like it’s an important section to cover,” she said, still eyeing the flower he held—pink with drooping petals. 

He nodded. “Extremely. This one I’m holding is a bit… well, dramatic, I suppose. But it conveys the giver’s message pretty clearly. Justicia—the perfection of female loveliness.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Very clearly. I assume you only give it if you really mean to court someone?” 

“Precisely. Would you mind holding it for me?” 

Before she could reply, he pressed the stem into her hand, all but forcing her to take it. She grasped without much thought, as Ominis was already reaching for the next flower. He held up the cluster of small flowers, smiling. “Here we have Peruvian heliotrope. It signifies unwavering devotion.”

He held it out to her, and she took it without a word. He continued on, not missing a beat. The next thing he held was not a flower at all—but he was quick to explain. “Cedar leaf,” he said. “Perhaps not a flower like the others, but it expresses the proper messages. I… I live for thee.” 

There was a tone in his voice that had changed dramatically from when he was simply giving her explanations. A distinct shift that made it hard for her to breathe. One that made her hand feel like it was burning where his fingers brushed against his as he handed her the leaf. 

“Everlasting,” he named, holding a bright burst of yellow and orange petals, “Never-ceasing remembrance.” 

It was added to her growing bouquet. 

He picked up the final flower she saw, a lovely little pink thing, taking the shape of a ball. “Globe amaranth. It has two meanings. Immortality, for the first. But the one I’d like to emphasis is unfading love.”

She sucked in a breath. The petals shook a bit, resulting from his trembling hand. Before he handed it to her, he reached behind him, pulling out a flower that he had let lay concealed there. 

“You’ll recognize this one,” he said softly. She did. The flower he had given her on that very first lesson—the one he told her she’d learn about in due time. It seemed that the time had come. “Honey flower. Love sweet and secret.” 

He felt the same. He had this entire time. He’d sat with her, day after day of studying and laughing, all the while letting his heart beat for her. It filled with with a joy she had never known—one she was determined to never let go off. 

She looked up at his face, jaw tense, and she realized her silence at his confession must be excruciating. She reached forward, taking the flowers from his hands and adding it to her perfect collection before setting it aside. “You mean it, Ominis?” she asked, hoping she had not taken this all ridiculously out of turn. It was relief when he answered in a quiet voice. 

“Every word.” 

She grinned, taking one of his hands in her own before reaching for the pocket of her robe. The flower was still intact—a small miracle she was glad had occurred. “You’ve been an absolutely amazing teacher,” she said, guiding his hand to take the tulip. He wrapped his fingers around it, brows furrowing. “For one, I now know how important colors are when it comes to deciphering meanings.”  She leaned closer, voice coming out as almost a whisper. “I’ve brought another tulip for you. But this one is red.” 

His face lit up in an instant, lips reaching up to spread into the most beautiful smile. The flower was set aside, for his hands found something much more important to do. He placed them on either side of her face, fingers tracing over her cheeks. She held his wrists, letting him lead her closer and closer, until there was no distance left at all. 

The breeze blew softly over them, carrying the floral scent with it. She’d love that smell for the rest of her life, she was sure—because it would always remind her of the way his lips felt on hers. 

[worstjourney]

The Millennials' Polar Expedition

A year ago today (23 Nov 2022), I launched Worst Journey Vol.1 at the Scott Polar Research Institute. This is the text of the speech I gave to the lovely people who turned up to celebrate.

As many of you know, my interest in the Terra Nova Expedition was sparked by Radio 4’s dramatisation of The Worst Journey in the World, now 14 years ago.  The story is an incredible story, and it got its claws into me, but what kept me coming back again and again were the people.  I couldn’t believe anyone so wonderful had ever really existed.  So when I finally succumbed to obsession and started reading all the books, it was the expedition members’ own words which I most cherished.  These were not always easy to come by, though, so plenty of popular histories were consumed as well.  Reading both in tandem, it soon became clear that, while there were some good books out there, there was a lot of sloppy research in the polar echo chamber as well.

I also discovered that no adaptation had attempted to get across the full scope of the expedition.  There has never been a full and fair dramatic retelling, all having been limited by time, budget, or ideology from telling the whole story truthfully.  I was determined that my adaptation would be both complete and accurate, and be as accountable as possible to those precious primary documents and the people who wrote them.

So the years of research began.  I moved to Cambridge to be able to drop in at SPRI and make the most of the archives.  Getting to Antarctica seemed impossible, but I went to New Zealand to get at least that much right, and on the way back stayed with relatives in Alberta, the most Antarctic place I could realistically visit.  I gathered reference for objects wherever I could.  Because Vol.1 takes place mainly on the Terra Nova, which is now a patch of sludge on the seabed off Greenland, I cobbled together a Franken-Nova in my mind, between the Discovery up in Dundee and the Star of India in San Diego.  I spent a week on a Jubilee Sailing Trust ship in order to depict tall-ship sailing correctly.  I’m sure I’ve still got loads of things wrong, but I did all I could, to get as much as I could, right.

But still, everyone I met who had been to Antarctica said, “you can’t understand Antarctica until you’ve been there, and you can’t tell the story without understanding Antarctica; you have to go.”  So I applied to the USAP’s Antarctic Artists and Writers Program, with faint hope, as they do “Ahrt” and I draw cartoons.  But I must have blagged a good grant proposal, because a year after applying, I was stepping out of a C-17 onto the Ross Ice Shelf.  The whole trip would have been worth it just to stand there, turn in a circle, and see how all the familiar photographs fit together.  But the USAP’s generosity didn’t stop there, and in the next month I saw Hut Point, Arrival Heights, the Beardmore Glacier (including the moraine on which the Polar Party stopped to “geologise”), and Cape Crozier, and made three visits to the Cape Evans hut.  Three!  On top of the visual reference I got priceless qualitative data.  The hardness of the sound.  The surprising warmth of the sun. The sugary texture of the snow.  The keen edge on a slight breeze.  The way your fingertips and toes can start to go when the rest of you is perfectly warm.  The SHEER INSANITY of Cape Crozier.  The veterans were right – I couldn’t have drawn it without having been there, but now I have, and can, and I am more grateful than I can ever adequately express.  With all these resources laid so copiously at my feet, all I had to do was sit down and draw the darn thing.  Luckily I have some very sound training to back me up on that.

Now, this is all very well for the how of making the book, and, I hope, interesting enough. But why?  Why am I putting so much effort into telling this story, and why now?

Well, it means a lot to me personally.  To begin to understand why, you need to know that I grew up in the 80s and 90s, at the height of individualist, goal-oriented, success-driven, dog-eat-dog, devil-take-the-hindmost neoliberalism.  It was just assumed that humans, when you get right down to it, were basically self-interested jerks, and I saw plenty of them around so I had no reason to question this assumption.  The idea was that if you did everything right, and worked really hard, you could retire at 45 to a yacht in the Bahamas, and if you didn’t retire to a yacht, well, you just hadn’t tried hard enough.  Character, in the sense of rigorous personal virtue, was for schmucks.  What mattered was success.  Even as my politics evolved, I still took it as a given that this was how the world worked, and that was how people generally were – after all, there was no lack of corroborating evidence.  So: I worked really hard.  I single-mindedly pursued my self-interest.  I made sacrifices, and put in the time, and fought my way into my dream job and all the success I could have asked for.

And then I met the Terra Nova guys.

What struck me most about them was that even when everything was going wrong, when their expectations were shattered and they had to face the cruellest reality, they were still kind.  Not backbiting, recriminating, blame-throwing, defensive, or mean, as one would expect – they were lovely to each other, patient, supportive, self-sacrificing; in fact the worse things got, the better they were.  They still treated each other as friends even when it wasn’t in their self-interest, was even contrary to their self-interest.  I didn’t know people could be like that.  But there they were, in plain writing, being thoroughly, bafflingly, decent.  Not just the Polar Party – everyone had to face their own brutal realities at some point, and they all did so with a grace I never thought possible.

It presented a very important question:

When everything goes belly-up, and you’re facing the worst, what sort of person will you be?

Or perhaps more acutely: What sort of person would you rather be with?

It was so contrary to the world I lived in, to the reality I knew – it was a peek into an alternate dimension, populated entirely with lovely, lovely people, who really, genuinely believed that “it’s not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game,” and behaved accordingly.  It couldn’t be real.  There had to be a deeper, unpleasant truth: that was how the world worked, after all.  I kept digging, expecting to hit bottom at some point, but I only found more gold, all the way down.  How could I not spend my life on this?

Mythology exists to pass on a culture’s values, moral code, and survival information – how to face challenges and prevail.  Scott’s story entered the British mythology, and had staying power, because it exemplified those things so profoundly for the culture that created and received it.  But the culture changed, and there were new values; Scott’s legacy was first inverted and then cast aside.  The new culture needed a new epic hero.  You’d think it would be Amundsen, the epitome of ruthless success, but “Make Plan – Execute Plan – Go Home” has no mythic value, so he didn’t stick.  The hero needed challenges, he needed setbacks, and he needed to win, on our terms.

Shackleton!  Shackleton was a winner!  Shackleton told us what we knew to be true and wanted to hear at epic volume: that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard, you will succeed!  (Especially if you can control the narrative.)  Scott, on the other hand, tells us that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard . . . you may nevertheless die horribly in the snow.  Nobody wants to hear that!  What a downer!  I think it’s no coincidence that Shackleton exploded into popular culture in the late 90s and has dominated it ever since: he is the mythic hero of the zeitgeist. I am always being asked if I’ll be doing Shackleton next.  He has six graphic novels already!  That is plenty!  But people still want to tell and be told his story, because it’s a heroic myth that validates our worldview.

That’s why I am so determined to tell the Scott story, because Scott is who we don’t realise we need right now – and Wilson, and Bowers, and Cherry, and Atch, and all the rest.  The Terra Nova Expedition is the Millennials’ polar expedition.  We’ve worked really hard, we’ve done everything we were supposed to, we made what appeared to be the right decisions at the time, and we’re still losing.  Nothing in the mythology we’ve been fed has prepared us for this.  No amount of positive attitude is going to change it.  We have all the aphorisms in the world, but what we need is an example of how to behave when the chips are down, when the Boss is not sailing into the tempest to rescue us, when the Yelcho is not on the horizon.  When circumstances are beyond your power to change, how do you make the best of your bad situation?  What does that look like? Even if you can’t fix anything, how do you make it better for the people around you – or at the very least, not worse?  Scott tells us: you can be patient, supportive, and humble; see who needs help and offer it; be realistic but don’t give in to despair; and if you’re up against a wall with no hope of rescue, go out in a blaze of kindness.  We learn by imitation: it’s easy to say these things, but to see them in action, in much harder circumstances than we will ever face, is a far greater help.  And to see them exemplified by real, flawed, complicated people like us is better still; they are not fairy-tale ideals, they are achievable. Real people achieved them.

My upbringing in the 80s milieu of selfishness, which set me up to receive the Scott story so gratefully, is hardly unique.  There are millions of us who are hungry for a counter-narrative.  My generation is desperate for demonstrations of caring, whether it’s activism or social justice or government policies that don’t abandon the vulnerable.  We’ve seen selfishness poison the world, and we want an alternative.  The time for competition is past; we must cooperate or perish, but we don’t know how to do it because our mythology is founded on competition.  The Scott story, if told properly, explodes the Just World Fallacy, and liberates us from the lie that has ruled our lives: that you make your own luck.  What happens, happens: what matters is how you respond to it.  My obsession with accuracy is in part to honour the men, and in part because Cherry was the ultimate stickler and he’d give me a hard time if I didn’t, but also because, if I’m telling the story to a new generation, I’m damn well going to make sure we get that much RIGHT.  It’s been really interesting to see, online, how my generation and the next have glommed onto polar exploration narratives, not as thrilling feats of derring-do, but as emotional explorations of found family and cooperative resilience.  We love them because they love each other, and loving each other helps get them through, and we want – we need – to see how that’s done.  It’s time to give them the Terra Nova story, and to tell it fully, fairly, and honestly, in all its complexity, because that is how their example is most useful to us.  Not as gods, and not as fools, but as real human beings who were excellent to each other in the face of disaster.  I only hope that I, a latecomer to their ways, can do them justice.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Thank you for answering my Origins Dragon!Marinette and Turtle!Adrien question! Please don’t worry about disagreeing with the idea; I asked for YOUR opinion and analysis on why it would OR wouldn’t work, and that’s what I got. 😌 It also made me consider meta and in-show stuff that I hadn’t before, which is cool. You mentioned wanting all of the Kwamis to be part of some sort of set of two or more, and I’d love to hear what those sets are in your head going down the full Chinese Miracle Box list and why you’d pair them together with consideration towards both the Kwami themselves and their Powers.

(Post this ask is referring to)

Oh good, I'm glad that you found it useful and not discouraging!

Talking about how to pair the Kwamis is a little tricky because of an issue that I've discussed before. That issue being that the "Chinese" miracle box seems to be about as Chinese as fortune cookies. That makes me uncomfortable because - as far as I'm aware - the Chinese zodiac is a major part of Chinese beliefs and traditions. As such, I personally feel like the box should reflect those beliefs and traditions, but I also don't know those beliefs and traditions, so I can't tell you how I'd effectively group the zodiac Kwamis in order to honor their cultural origins. I can't even be sure if my criticism is valid or just me being overly cautious!

In an ideal world where I had money to invest in this sort of thing, I'd hire a cultural consultant to work with me to design a Chinese miracle box that feels Chinese (or to tell me that I'm overthinking this and to just do whatever I want). Assuming that I'm not overreacting, this would probably mean redesigning a lot of the powers and looks so that they honor Chinese lore and not Western lore.

For example, one thing that I know for sure is that black cats are not unlucky in China. They're actually symbols of good luck (all cats are), so a Chinese box would not have the implied good luck/bad luck thing that we get with Ladybug and Chat Noir. My limited research has also raised some doubts about ladybugs being a go-to symbol of good luck or creation in China, but I'm a lot less confident about that one being a bad choice as the association may exist. I couldn't find anything definitive one way or the other. This leads me to think that, if the association exists, then it's probably a bit obscure, meaning that a Chinese box would probably go with a different animal if we were trying to be culturally accurate to what a Chinese-inspired box would really look like.

I can say with reasonable certainty that Creation is associated with the masculine yang and Destruction is associated with the feminine yin, so Tikki should possibly feel masculine to feminine Plagg. At the very least, their spots in the miracle box should probably be reversed with Plagg in the black and Tikki in the white since yin is black and yang is white?

[Image Description: center of the original miracle box showing that ladybug earrings are placed in the black part of the yin yang symbol while the black cat ring is in the white]

I also known that white rabbits being associated with time, watches, and umbrellas comes from Alice in Wonderland and not China. Are you starting to see why I'm doubting the cultural accuracy of the miracle box?

The alternate way to approach this is to remove the possible issue of Chinese culture being treated as "mystical" or nothing more than ornamentation by making the Chinese miracle box into the miracle box of no specified culture. Since that's kind of what the box already is in terms of deeper meanings and cultural ties, I think we can go that route for this discussion since we have taken a moment to acknowledge the potential issues with the box's existing design and why that's leading me to take this route as - to me - this seems to be the only way to stick to canon's lore while avoiding potential further insults to Chinese culture.

If we went to my ideal extremes with this approach, we'd actually massively cut down the number of miraculous in the box because I think that there are way too many miraculous! Who needs nineteen "unique" powers to arm and fight one villain? This is extra true since there's no real theme to the miraculous beyond the initial setup of Creation/Destruction + five random powers followed by the addition twelve more random powers with no clear ties to any culture or theme other than the look of the Kwamis that grant the powers.

But that's getting real extreme, so for this ask, we won't go there. Instead, I'll talk about some general ideas for grouping the powers that we already have and some ideas for how you could fix the randomness of our current powers to make them feel like they make sense.

To start, I love the fact that our two main heroes are supposed to be a pair power wise. That's a lovely way to approach your lore and is why I think that they should have grouped the other miraculous, too. Why are Creation and Destruction the only set? Why aren't the others in any sort of group? Why do these miraculous have the powers they do? What ties them to this box and not another box?

There are a few ways to approach pairing the other miraculous. You can come at it from a theme perspective such as the fact that both the snake and the rabbit are all about time. You can also look for opposites such as the turtle being all about defense and the dragon being more about offense. You can even go more broad and say that a given group of miraculous is all aspects of one type of power such as the peacock, the goat, and the ladybug all feeling like aspects of creation. There's really no clear way to go about this because the current powers are so freaking random!

When I approach this stuff, I don't just come up with powers. I come up with the lore and let that help guide the powers or I shape the lore around the powers I want to use until both things make sense. For example, it makes sense that Creation would have some magical being guiding it. It also makes sense that Creation would either create Destruction for balance or that they both popped into existence together so that there was always a balance. Once you have that, you say, "Okay, what other Forces would these two want in order to help guide the universe? What can't they do or what do they do consistently enough that they might want to hand it off?"

Going from there, you start to come up with ideas like maybe they wanted Time to have a physical embodiment so that they could get some guidance on the long term effects of the things that they were making, so that's Fluff coming online. But Time is a lot and they liked their balance, so maybe Sass was brought online too in order to balance Fluff with Fluff being focused on what was and what could be while Sass is focused on what is, thereby giving Fluff someone to ground her. Or maybe you even add in a third Kwami to be some sort of historian who remembers the past while Fluff is the future and Sass is the now.

Another thought path is that most things are not pure Creation or pure Destruction. You must destroy to create. When you make bread, yeast consumes sugar to create air bubbles. Creation and Destruction working together. So maybe Tikki and Plagg wanted to make "children" who could do what they couldn't do solo and that's how we got the peacock?

No matter how you go about this, I really don't think that there's a great way to explain/group all nineteen miraculous, especially if you add in the eagle and Fei's wacky prodigious with it's animal abilities. It's just too random! But I do think that there's a lot of potential in strong subsets of the ones we get in canon, especially if you're allowed to edit the powers or the Forces a bit to make them fit their supposed Force or granted power better. I've talked before about how I'd mess with Lucky Charm to remove the odd Luck association and focus on Creation and that's what I'd do with most of the miraculous because, right now, most of them don't make much sense.

For example, Ziggy - the goat - is supposed to be the Kwami of Passion and that somehow gives the power to create anything you want? I know creatives are passionate, but that still doesn't fit in my mind. It would make more sense for this to be an inspiration power like the pig or for the Force to change to Creation and Ziggy is just a lesser ladybug for some reason? And Stompp - the Ox - is Determination, but I'd actually label his shield power as an aspect of Protection, making him in some sort of pairing with the turtle. Self defense verses defense of others?

In short, the canon lore is a disaster that needs major work to feel solid which leads to lots of paths for fixing the mess. In my opinion, the best way to go about fixing it is to take the element that worked best - the Creation/Destruction pairing - and expand that out to make strong, logical lore for the other Kwamis and their associated powers. Lore that probably won't be rooted in any one culture because no culture seems to be a solid match for the lore that canon is using, which is only concerning because of the current obvious associations with China and that's not even touching on the whole Tibetan monks + Chinese culture issue. Go check out the post I linked at the start for my thoughts on that which basically sum up to, "I am not even remotely qualified to talk about this one, but it seems like a terrible idea."

(Once again, reminder that I'm not Chinese or otherwise deeply informed on Chinese culture. I'm just a person who tries her best to respect other cultures and the miracle box sets off a lot of warning bells for me. Those warning bells could always be a false positive, so you shouldn't take my thoughts as some sort of final say on this topic. Please feel free to look into this on your own and form your own opinions.

If you are Chinese or otherwise educated in these topics, then please feel free to reblog this or send an ask giving me some additional context as I really do love learning about this stuff, but it's near impossible to research! I spent a good hour talking to a local librarian trying to find books or articles in our library that talked about the Chinese zodiac from an academic perspective and we found nothing. I've got a few interlibrary loan requests out to academic libraries in our library network though and I'll follow up on this if those books end up having information that adds to the discussion.)

[cripplecharacters]

any tips on portrayal of conjoined characters? im finding it to be a little hard to research

Hello,

So, the reason there aren't many sources on the life of conjoined twins is because conjoined twins who live a long time without being separated are rare. The survival rate of conjoined twins is only around 7.5%, because 75% of conjoined twins don't live long enough to be separated and 40% of those who do will not survive the procedure or the recovery. There aren't many modern examples of conjoined twins who were not separated and yet still survived. The best resource I can point you to is Abby and Brittany Hensel, who have been very open about how the two of them operate one body. But the two of them are a very, very unique case.

Most likely, your conjoined characters would probably be separated as soon as medically possible to avoid as many complications as possible. The survival rate for most conjoined twins is poor- the only type of conjoined twins (at least the only common type of conjoined twins, though several less common types have a similar survival rate) who have a good survival rate without sacrificing one of the two are Omphalopagus twins, who are joined at the lower abdomen. They have a survival rate of around 82%, though literature is unclear as to if that's with or without separation. Most likely it's with separation.

My only advice is just to be medically accurate. Most fictional conjoined characters are like Abby and Brittany Hensel, even though the survival rate for that type of conjoined twin is poor. Most conjoined twins who survive have a less intense connection, like the one I mentioned above, and many of them are separated to give them a safer, easier life.

Mod Aaron

Hi!

You might want to check out Carmen and Lupita's youtube channel, they're a pair of conjoined twins connected at the torso :-) They made some Q&As about that, as well as videos about misconceptions that a lot of people have about them.

What you should avoid first and foremost is the "freakshow" association, as well as making your characters into some sort of thought experiment or r/askReddit tier theories ("what would've happened if one died?!?"). Just try to treat them as siblings who are very close and might have some additional disabilities (very unspecific, but it really depends on where they are connected, if they have been separated, etc). Make sure they have their own personalities, hobbies, thoughts, and aren't just reduced to being conjoined with their twin.

Also, just do technical research to make sure what you're writing makes sense - for example, each twin would control/feel their half of the body, not the whole thing. From what I know, learning how to walk can be very hard because of this.

Conjoined twins also don't have telepathy (unless they'd be literally sharing a major part of their brain maybe, but no idea how survivable that is?) or any other magical powers because of their disability. They're normal people, and that's what you should be aiming to portray.

Sorry for the short answer, but I hope it helps!

mod Sasza

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 15

Masterlist

Warning: fluff with a mix of angst, mention of treatment, mention of death

Word Count: 3.4k

Note: a lot of this story is based on my own personal experience with the disease. As I've learned chemotherapy effects everyone very differently. The type of chemo the reader is on is based on her type of cancer but the treatment plan may not be 100% accurate. I'm no doctor but I am doing as much research as I can

Tony liked to wear masks, whether it be his Iron Man or the cocky Playboy or once upon a time behind a drink. He hated showing those around him how he was truly feeling. Partly, he blamed his upbringing. With his parents never around, he learned to box away his feelings and hide them. Things were different. He had Pepper, Morgan, and a team that felt like more of a family than Howard and Maria. Now there was you, a new addition to the mix but not an unwelcome one.

For once, he felt a little out of his element. With Morgan, he was there for the girl’s first steps, and although he missed her first words, Pepper sent him a video of it. Natasha made fun of him for crying, but he saw the tears that formed in the team’s eyes when his phone got passed around. But with you. He missed all of it. So when you declared that you weren’t going to use Morgan’s bone marrow to save your life, he couldn’t pull the ‘dad’ card. He was only your father for 2 weeks. There was no ground for him to stand on.

He sat in the meeting room while the rest of the team pilled in. They needed to know the change in your treatment plan. He caught Yelena’s eyes, and the blonde gave him a small smile. It was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact you were seeing Yelena. With everything going on, he needed a vacation. “So,” he said once Bucky sat down next to Natasha. “Her treatment is changing.”

He wasn’t sure if he told them the correct information. The intensity of the treatment dawned on everyone. It was still a 3-week cycle. Now, you would have a double dosage twice weekly for two weeks, then a week off. When Steve asked about a possible match, Tony gave a vague answer about still looking for one, but your doctor wanted to move forward before it was too late. It was your choice on how to tell the team the truth.

Thankfully, Yelena was there to fill in the blanks to the questions he wasn’t sure how to answer. No one seemed to bat an eye when she knew so much about your treatment plan.

Finally, the team began to leave. A heaviness filled the air, suffocating. Your ability to touch the lives of these people so quickly should be studied. A slight slap to his leg startled him out of his thoughts. “Belova, what do you want?” The blonde crossed her arms.

“I want you to say what is on your mind now that your daughter is not here,” she said. “I can take your shovel talk, Stark. I have faced bigger threats than you.” The man let out a dry laugh. It was funny, and she wasn’t wrong either. He knew only a fraction of the horrors Yelena and Natasha were subjected to. There was a lot he wanted to say - a conversation between the person dating his daughter that he thought he had more time to prepare for. Hell, Morgan was only 4.

But was it right for him to have a say in who you spent your time with? And this wasn’t someone random. This was Yelena, someone he knew long before you. He saw her grow into the person she is now.

“Why her?” he finally asked. “You could have anyone in the world, but you chose her after knowing her for less than a month.” Being an Avenger came with status and power. He knew it better than anyone. Tony watched Yelena’s face soften, and she let out a sigh. She sat in front of him.

“Before Natalia and I were taken to the Red Room, our mother told us to not let them take out hearts,” she played with a ring on her finger that had a turtle charm. It must be new since Tony had never seen it before. “I was not sure what she meant then, but now I do. Melina did not want our hearts to be darkened by the horrors we faced. It was the one thing we could control,” she sighed again. “Sometimes I question if my heart is still good but your daughter,” Yelena looked at Tony. “Her heart is still good even though the world tried to change it.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦    

The sound of the elevator stopping pulled you out of sleep. You weren’t fully asleep; you were drifting between the two stages. Your eyes fluttered open, and you saw Tony. Morgan was still pressed to your side in a much deeper sleep than you. “Sorry, kid, I didn’t realize you were here.” You shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you whispered. “This one was getting tired.” Pushing the blame onto Morgan was easier than admitting you were tired. If you were tired, then that meant you weren’t feeling good, and you refused to worry them. The man frowned and sat next to you. It was easy to lean against him.

“It’s okay to be tired,” he said, fixing the beanie on your head. You were wearing it less around the team, but it felt comforting to wear it. It’s okay to rest.”

“I don’t want to be tired,” you answered.

“Why?” Such a simple question caused turmoil to race through your body. If you were tired, your body was being affected by the chemo.

“Are you okay with me and Yelena?” You changed the direction of the conversation. Tony sighed, crossed his left leg over his right, and looked at the TV. The end credits of Frozen 2 were playing, but the movie was muted. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep during the film.

“I don’t think I have a say in who you sleep with,” you managed to sit up more and move Morgan so she was leaning on the armrest of the couch.

“Why would you think that?” You frowned. “Your opinion matters to me.” Tony looked at you.

“It does?” He questioned. You nodded, and you saw him smile as he looked forward again. “Then she isn’t stupid enough to hurt you. I’d kick her ass,” you chuckled and kept to yourself that Yelena believed she would win that fight. Still, his words nagged at you.

“Why did you not think your opinion wasn’t important to me?” You nudged your shoulder against him when he was quiet for too long.

“I haven’t been in your life long enough to dictate what you do with it,” he said. “If you wanted to spend your free time with Yelena, who am I to stop you.”

“Tony,” you spoke slowly.

“It’s fine,” he managed a forced smile. It reminded you of the smile from the garage. “I have some work to do,” he stood up and kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You felt like you received whiplash with the change and tone in conversation.

“Tony, wait,” you said quickly, following him to the dining room table. You suddenly felt lightheaded. “Woah,” you said and grabbed onto the table.

“Hey, hey,” Tony grabbed you by the shoulders and carefully helped you sit down. “Deep breaths for me, okay? Deep breaths.” Your head fell onto his shoulder, and he rubbed his hand up and down your back. You took a few deep breaths, and your head stopped spinning. You slumped back into the chair and saw Tony kneeling before you with a smile. “Better?” You nodded.

“You may not have been there while I grew up because Jessica didn’t give you the choice,” Tony’s smile flattered. “But you are here now when I need you. Your opinion matters, you matter. So thank you.”

“No need to thank me, butterfly. You’re my daughter,” you nodded and heard Morgan call your name from the couch. “I’ll get her.” He stood up and walked over to the couch. You were too far to hear what Tony was saying, so you focused on your breathing. The world wasn’t spinning as much, but your body felt sluggish.

You heard Morgan’s feet pattering as she ran towards you. You sat up straighter when she appeared in front of you. “Daddy said you need a special Morgan hug.” You smiled.

“Yeah, I need a big hug,” she climbed onto your lap and wrapped her arms around your neck. You held her against you and looked at Tony over her shoulder.

“All better?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you closed your eyes and fought the tears threatening to take over. “All better.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦    

You loved traditions. There were so many between you and your mom. When the summer solstice came around, you would be camping to celebrate the summer kick-off. It was the best place to be, under the stars and a belly full of smores. For Christmas, you would ice skate on Christmas Eve and spend the morning at a local food shelter. Birthdays were kept small with a slice of cheesecake and one present. Those traditions died when she did. It hurts too much to continue them on your own.

Now, you were living with a new group, and they had their own set of traditions, which included the Young Avengers, as they were called, having dinner together. Since they were all horrible cooks, they decided on Chinese. Thankfully, they had soup options that wouldn’t upset your stomach. On any other day, you would offer to cook. Even when you tried to offer, it took a stern look from Yelena to keep your mouth shut. Besides, it would be unwise to stand in the kitchen when your entire body was laced with exhaustion.

It was frustrating. When your body craved sleep, but your mind and soul wanted this social interaction. Being trapped in your room while your friends were hanging out sounded dreadful. You never had FOMO. Sometimes, you need a night to recharge. Now, it was different. With this disease running rampant through your body, it was a clicking time bomb. Any moment could be your lost. So you fought through the exhaustion, ignored Yelena’s worried glances, and tried to stay in the present moment.

At first, it was easy; you laughed with your friends, told them stories about your life before them, and cuddled up against Yelena. She seemed to not care about the teasing remarks from Kate, America, or the winks MJ would send your way. All that mattered to her was that you were in her arms, but that was your downfall. Yelena was your portable heater. The heat that radiated off her soothed the ache in your body. It was bringing you closer to sleep than you would like.

You groaned and tried to shift away from Yelena. The blonde held you tighter to prevent your escape. “What’s wrong, detka?” She asked. “Am I too hot for you?” You rolled your eyes at her teasing remarks.

“No, I think you are not attractive at all,” you deadpanned and received a slight pinch to your side. “You are going to make me fall asleep.” Yelena frowned.

“Am I that boring?” You slapped her shoulder. She pretending to be hurt gave you time to move to the corner of the couch. The others were in the kitchen, cleaning up the leftover food and gathering snacks for the movie. Yelena quickly sat next to you again, offering space between you and her.

“If you are tired, get some sleep. We can do this another night.” Some of your friends in DC said you were brutally honest even when they wanted you to lie. You saw no point in lying to people that you cared about. It caused a few petty fights that lasted a few hours. You were like your mother in that aspect. She believed the truth; no matter how much it hurt, it was the best route.

You pushed some of Yelena’s hair behind her ear and kept your hand on her cheek. “I don’t know how many more nights I will have like this,” you whispered. “I want to join as many as I can.” Her green eyes softened, and she took your hand to kiss your palm.

Before she could respond, the others came back. Yelena placed her arm on the back of the couch and kissed the side of your head while you took the bowl of popcorn from MJ. You kept quiet while they discussed the movie to watch. Some random crime drama was put on and you relaxed into the couch.

While the opening credits were playing, you caught Yelena watching you. You took your eyes off the screen and looked at her. Quickly, she cupped your cheek and kissed you. She deepened the kiss and pulled away when Kate turned around to ask Yelena about the movie. She answered it perfectly as if her tongue wasn’t down your throat. “You are missing the movie,” she said.

“I am not sure how long I have, so I will never stop kissing you,” you smiled and kissed her cheek. You grabbed her arm, placed it over your shoulder, and leaned into her.

You weren’t the only one going through this, so depriving yourself of Yelena’s touch was depriving her, too. You weren’t alone. You had Yelena, Tony, Pepper, and all the Avengers. It was comforting yet terrifying.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦    

Yelena woke you up when the movie ended and returned to her room. Immediately, you fall back to sleep in the comfort of her bed and her arms around you. Suddenly, you woke up. Yelena separated herself from you. The cold air sent a shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t bring yourself up to cuddle beside her. It would wake her up, and she looked so peaceful while she slept. Her braid was coming undone from the constant tossing and turning. The blanket was at her waist, and her arms were under the pillow. Smiling, you carefully got out of bed. “Dekta,” you froze. You were sleeping next to a Black Widow, sneaking out of bed would be impossible.

“Just getting water,” you told her. “Go back to sleep.” Sleepy green eyes looked up at you.

“Promise you’ll come back,” you almost frowned. Instead, you walked over to her side of the bed and showed her your right pinky.

“Promise,” she looked at you confused. Her brain was still clouded with sleep. Slowly, she raised her hand and linked her pinky with yours. “Can’t break a pinky promise,” you smiled. “Especially if you kiss it.” You kissed your hand. Yelena dropped her hand and rolled her eyes.

“You are such a dork,” she mumbled and closed her eyes. You waited until she fell asleep and stood up. Deciding on getting water from the common floor, it was a good chance to stretch your legs. Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one there. Natasha sat at the dining room table with her laptop and a few files. The coffee mug she had was half full. You wondered how many times she refilled it. You filled two glasses of water in the kitchen and put in an electrolyte mixture. Once it was dissolved, you walked over to the redhead and placed it next to the coffee.

“It’s water with electrolyte mix,” you told her when she looked at it curiously. “You can’t survive on just coffee.” The woman scuffed but took a sip of the water. “What are you working on?” You sat on the opposite side of the table so you didn’t accidentally see what she was working on.

“Mission reports,” she answered and drank half of the water. You hid your smile behind your glass. “Just trying to get ahead.”

“I’m surprised Bucky let you out of bed,” Natasha laughed.

“I could say the same to you,” she said, glancing at you from above the report she was reading. “Does Yelena know you are wandering the tower at night?”

You wouldn’t call it wandering, but you knew what she meant. “Yes,” you said and traced the rim of the cup. “She knows I’m getting water, which isn’t a lie.” You finished your glass. While you sat silently as Natasha worked, your mind returned to the day Yelena planned for you. It seemed impossible to find something wrong. She let you ramble about animals, refused to make you feel bad when you walked about your mom, and made you feel safe. You only wanted to plan something that made her feel seen, too. Natasha seemed like the perfect person to ask. “I would say,” you spoke slowly. “You know Yelena pretty well.” The older Black Widow blinked at you and closed her laptop.

“I would hope so. She is my sister,” you rolled your eyes with a huff and leaned back in the chair. “What is on your mind?”

“I want to take her on a date before I start feeling unwell, but I’m not sure what to do,” you explained. So I want to ask the person who knows her the best.” You watched Natasha organize her workspace, carefully closing the files and making sure that the papers were inside and protected, then piled them on top of her laptop.

“Listen, I get that you are Stark’s kid, but that doesn’t protect you from me. Understand?” You nodded and kept your mouth shut. You knew she had more to say. “Yelena leaves her heart on her sleeve. It took a long time for her to trust people with it, and that trust was almost broken.” You figured she was talking to Yelena’s ex, the one who told her that her love language was something to be ashamed of. You wanted to ask more, but Natasha continued, “I see how you look at her. Your heart is good. She likes animals and dogs mostly. She has an American Akita with our parents back in Russia.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, stood up with her laptop under her arm, and grabbed her glass. You heard her cleaning the glasses. “Nat,” you followed her to the kitchen, and she took the glass from you to clean. “I like her a lot, and I will do everything in my power not to break her heart.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at you and scanned you up and down. “Even though you refuse treatment, that could keep you here with her.” The air was sucked out of your lungs. It felt like she injected ice into your veins. Frozen to your spot, all you could do was stare at her.

“It’s so much more complicated than that,” you whispered. She gave you a soft smile.

“I get it,” she said, placing her hand on yours. Carefully, Natasha intertwined her fingers with yours. “I probably get it more than anyone.” You frowned, unsure of what she meant. “Just be with her for as long as you can. That’s all I ask.”

With Natasha’s words echoing, you walked back to Yelena’s room. The blonde woke up as soon as you got close to the bed. “Sorry,” you said as you climbed in next to her. Without saying anything, she pulled you close to her chest. Your head fell against her shoulder, and her heartbeat mixed with yours. It felt impossible to separate the two.

“Are you okay?” She mumbled. You nodded and burrowed your head into her shoulder.

“Can I put my hand under your shirt?” Her voice was soft when she said, ‘Yes’. You put your hand underneath her shirt and felt her breath hitch when she placed your hand over her heart. A shiver went down her body, you knew your hand was cold compared to her natural body temperature. “I used to do this with my mom,” you told her. When you were younger, you would place your hand above her shirt. “Her heartbeat always calmed me down.” Yelena used her free hand to pull your head out of her shoulders. You were looking up at her.

“Is there a reason you need to calm down?” She asked. You shook your head.

“No,” you whispered. “It’s just a nice reminder that you are here.” Yelena smiled. It was supposed to comfort you, but it broke your heart.

“I am here. I am not going anywhere.” She kissed you softly. Your body slumped against hers as you lost yourself in the feeling of her lips on yours. Still, Natasha’s words ran through your mind. You were the one who may leave.

_

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848,

[luffyvace]

AAAAAAA I WANNA GIVE YOU A BIG PLATONIC SMOOCH I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH

ok ok recently I have been infected with eustass kid and was hoping you could write for him with a male reader nothing specific I feel like he would be so angry if his testosterone filled crew made fun of him for it. Love your work ❤️

AWWW THATS SO SWEET OF YOU DEAR! 💗

PLATONIC KISSES 😚😚

thank you so much!! I’d love to write for you but I simply don’t know much about kid!! I’m on the marineford arc- 😭😭 I usually turn down characters I don’t know much about him but you seem like such a sweetie! After having done some research..Here ya go!~

As stated I’ve chosen to research as much as possible in fandom and other’s headcanons! This may not be the most accurate but I sincerely hope your satisfied with my attempt dearest!~

I feel Kid would think of food as a sort of affection

so technically gift giving??

but it’s like his love language is food

his favorite is cabbage rolls right?? Welllll he loves to eat them together!

not…together together

he buys it for y’all separately

I doubt he’d want to share his favorite food 😭

if you beg for his in a case where he didn’t get you some...

“what?! No! This is my food get your own!….ugggghh FINE! You get a half! This was supposed to be for me”

(● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

I also feel he’d be better off witth someone who’s either all for his rambunctiousness or (somehow) able to calm him down (like killer)

if your just as reckless as him great! Your adventures are now considered dates :)

not necessarily, but he’s fond of them as if they are

he’s always recalling on past times you’ve fought together

you know how people say someone you’ve fought a war with knows you better than a friend?

yeah, I feel like that’s why he has such high respects for his crew

And of course because they’re his crew

so yeah he feels closer to you every time you fight together

if you want you can listen to the song ‘one thing’ by amerie- the lyrics remind me of him idk why (keep in mind I don’t know this guy well :3)

kid would allow you to ride on his shoulders

you could just kinda hop up there casually and he won’t say anything

privileges

but I feel like if he’s in a foul mood or busy he’d grab you buy the waist and sit you down somewhere LOL

another way to spend time with him would be to do your make up at the same time (if you wear it)

(love that it’s casual for men to wear make up in one piece)

he seems like he would be anal about his so you’d be doing your own and he does his, but it’s still fun to do it together

he’s kinda like that with most things

which now that I realize it that could count as quality time

so the conclusion I’ve come to?

his love languages are gift giving or quality time

but thinking about it now I feel he may also do acts of service

now this isn’t as intentional

he just takes pride in likes to help you with things he knows he could do better

aw man you broke your ___? Well I’m sure he could fix it! 😼💪

If you initiate physical touch his reaction will range based on where you are/who’s around and how much it is

if there’s barely anyone/no one around and you give him a peck on the cheek? Fine. He’ll just half smile at you

if it’s a public area and your trying to kiss him on the lips? “Cut it out! Don’t get distracted we’re here to (xyz)!”

he can’t display the weakness of not being masculine

besides he hates cute n’ cuddly crap 😒

he’d be so proud if his boyfriend physically strong

It even boosts HIS ego

especially since your his ♥︎

he takes care of you in subtle ways

such as making sure your eating, not over working and getting enough sleep

”hey! I haven’t seen you eat all day! Get in the kitchen and tell killer to make ya’ somethin’!”

”how long have you been at that!? Get up and come over here!”

”what on earth are ya’ still doing awake?! Go to sleep! Captains orders..”

killer occasionally asks how your relationship is going

kid’ll tell em a few things but he tries not to get sentimental

trust that’s a lot more than what he tells other people..”

”screw off! mind your own business..”

this is really random but he seems like the type of guy who’s always grumbling

idk I just had to say it..

would enjoy headrubs (IN PRIVATE)

and it has to be casual, don’t baby him about it :P

”your hairs’ really fluffy/soft” *casual headrubs*

like that

you have to compliment stroke his ego so he won’t get angry then pat him

to be more specific about reader being a male :

Even if you don’t hc kid to be straight (idk what i hc him to be idk em enough)

his ego is HURT when he realizes he’s in love with you

love?! What is such weakness?! such DISEASE?!

the fact that he’s in the lgbtq bc of one guy kinda makes him angry

cuz like now (some) people are gonna categorize or even ridicule him for even liking you

even though he’s angry about it, it’s not for the same reason

he’s upset because he fell weak to love in general

homophobes may be upset because he likes a man

what does it matter?! He sure never cared..

you can tell the first thing this guy sees is NOT gender

it’s—threat? Or no threat?

so ya- essentially what I’m saying is he doesn’t care for gender- except when it comes to homophobes

then he’s angry 🙂☝️

and as for his crew making fun of him?!

oh he’s absolutely livid. 😄💥

”SHADDUP’ YA STINKIN’ MAGGOTS! I AM NOT WEAK!!”

Actually- they didn’t call him weak. That’s just what he hears 😂

btw that is not what he said I censored it bc I headcanon him to have a potty mouth (and I don’t)

his skin and hair is the same color from how angry this dude is

HE’S LITERALLY LIKE ‘😡’

HAHAHAH

He always storms off whenever they bring up his ‘sOft SpOt” for you 😋

he’s not even soft really he just goes out of his way to do stuff for/with you

its not they’re business anyway?!

right killer?!

while I was researching I saw that the flower he resembles is a tulip! That’s my favorite flower!! 🌷♥︎♡

Enjoy! I did my best 😅

[thelosers-club]

HELLO so I heard people talkimg about Stan having OCD and I just really really needed to clear up misconceptions about OCD and Stans character so if you like stan uris or mental health studies at all this might be fun to read for you

none of this is like drama relatef at all it was just a fun little thing i wanted to do so i could learn about mental health and my favorite characters at the same time

sorry if none of this makes sense i wrote it all in one go at 2am (feel free to add any info you want or clear up anything i might've explained poorly)

This started because I was sick anf tired of people saying stan has ocd because that just doesnt make sense towards any canon material (If you want to headcanon him as it, that’s fine, but please read through this so you can do it more accurately) and it seemed to be just a dramatic stereotyping of what OCD is.

After doing research, reading the literal DSM’s sections on OCD, I’ve come to the conclusion that: I was right, Stan very very much does NOT have OCD.

People said he has it because in IT 2017, he makes sure to clean the windows properly, and in the book he has germaphobia. That’s about it. I looked at other things I tried to find as evidence for him having OCD, but I couldn’t find anything else that fit. And this is not a case of opinion because I like to be as absolutely objective as possible in these types of things and see no point in anything otherwise

So anyway, I’ll try to put this all simply because if I get too complicated I’m gonna get lost and this will turn into a rant on literally anything because currently I’m unmedicated for my adhd

Why does Stan not have OCD? To put it simply, he does not fit any of the criteria. I do think he has germaphobia, but I believe that to be part of his autism (as it’s very, very common in autism) and/or anxiety.

To delve into that a liittle bit more, the OCD criteria is this:

A. obsessions or compulsions, such as recurrent and persistent thoughts, impulses, images, that are, at some point, intrusive and inappropriate and cause distress. the thoughts, impulses, or images are not simply excessive worries about real life problems. the person attempts to ignore/suppress such thoughts as to neutralize them with some other thought or action.

Thinking back on the book, which is what I like to adhere to as much as possible, Stan does not have these thoughts recurrently enough that it is affecting his life. I can see that he has a fear of dirt and ick which sometimes spikes when he’s stressed, but otherwise he is able to go through his day to day life easily enough with these thoughts.

Other diagnostic criteria to fill up the cracks in this is that the obsessions or compulsions must be time consuming (taking up more than 1 hour a day) or significantly interfere with the person’s normal routine and functioning, or social activities or relationships. Stan is not shown doing things like this repeatedly and, in my mind when I try to follow stephen king’s writing and ideas as much as I possibly can, I do not think he would if the book were longer either.

But, I very much think these traits are there; And they fit perfectly into autism traits. I think right now is a good time to note that autism gets mixed up as OCD quite a bit because they have overlapping traits.

Now to defend my case for why he might have Autism;

He acts to put it quite simply, insanely fucking autistic. Alllll the fucking time. That man is incredibly autistic there is no denying this

His whole character is set on the fact that he is a very black and white person, very very rigid, and you can’t deny it because he literally killed himself over finding out he was wrong about the guidelines and rules he made up for the world. he is so autistic

A common trait of autism is having an abnormal way of speaking, like a weird rhythm, and Stan’s tone WAS described as pleasant but it was also described as abnormal and such..

Look at how much he likes birds. it feels a little obvious to me here lol

the meltdowns he’s had because, again, his routine and rules were interrupted

He was insanely good at math/accounting which I think also has to do with the need for rules he has, math is ruled and never changes 4+4 will always be 8 yada yada

Also stan just in my headcanon world has very very limited romantic and platonic feelings and I think thats common in autistic folks because we’re so different from other people

anyways im tired and i think you all get it by now if youve watched any of the movies or read the book Stan acts quite autistic. i swear im not self projecting pleas

[matan4il]

I don’t know if you or anyone can really answer this accurately, but are GoFundMes for people living in Gaza trustworthy at all? or even trustworthy on a case by case basis? a musician I like (Maisie Peters) shared several today, with “help (these families) move out of Rafah,” and it gave me pause because I wholly believe in helping people who need it, but how can we possibly know if that contribution will go to the worthwhile places and families who need it? so much aid is being stolen by Hamas and UNRWA even still, and I have no idea how well researched any of those individual fundraisers are. I’m sure people mean well but it seems like there must be a more reliable option?

Hi Nonnie!

You're so right to be doubtful. Every humanitarian crisis brings with it a bunch of scams, but when we talk about a situation where there can be terrorists getting the aid, I think being cautious with people asking for money is extra justified. I'm glad you already know about the theft of humanitarian aid in Gaza, and are being careful.

First, I will say that the ones setting money to get people out of Gaza completely are very suspect to me. Especially now. Egypt has not only been extremely reluctant to take in refugees from Gaza, even on a temporary basis (for historic reason I won't get into, and which have little to do with "preventing ethnic cleansing"), they've doubled down on closing their border with Gaza to the point of not even allowing humanitarian aid in through their border anymore. Even before this recent development, they were only allowing in medical cases. We do know some people, related to Hamas, got out of Gaza, likely by pretending to be a medical case. This would suggest that maybe, up until the recent Egyptian crackdown, there was a way to bribe some Egyptian personnel to look the other way, and pretend regular people were medical cases, but it would take substantial amounts of money, and would be limited in how many could actually get through that way. In essence, you had no way of knowing who legitimately would take your money and use it to get out of Gaza, and who would just take your money, and do with it God only knows what. At best, just keep it to themselves, at worst use it for terrorist purposes. There is NO WAY for people outside the region to be able to check how the money will be used, or if any of the claims made by a campaign runner are legit, so anyone telling you, "This is safe, it's been vetted!" is either fooling you, or is being fooled themselves.

Inside Gaza, people don't actually need money to get out of Rafah. They can just... move out. Israel has already set up an improvised shelter city within walking distance from Rafah, it also already allows evacuation to other safe parts of south Gaza, and we know that hundreds of thousands of Palestinians have already moved out of Rafah and away from the zones designated for military action. And this costs nothing. Especially with humanitarian aid being poured non-stop into Gaza, including temporary shelters. Are those great? No. But if the goal is to get out of Rafah, it's possible to do that without paying a dime.

Bottom line, I'm not saying every fundraising campaign is untrustworthy, I'm saying that there is no way to know which one is and which one isn't, and that I personally wouldn't donate to any, because I wouldn't want my money to go to terrorist activities no matter what, and when I know that people do have alternatives and can get by, even if they don't get my donations, I'd rather be safe than sorry, meaning having to live with the possibility that my money directly got someone murdered.

I hope this helps! Take care! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[tutantmeenageneetleteetle]

Hi I was wondering if I could request something.

How would the 2012 turtles feel about an autistic s/o who had situational mutism? I am someone who has both and I use cue cards or text my responses when I am unable to communicate them verbally. It would be interesting to hear how the four of them approach this circumstance.

Situational mutism

Thank you for your request! I hadn't heard of situational mutism before, so I hope that what I wrote is somewhat accurate to how it works! Feel free to correct me and educate me (can be in my DMs or requests if you prefer it to be more private!) And if I made a mistake, I'll change it!🌸

Leo

Thought you were mad at him at first, or didn't understand what he was saying

When you explained (by typing it out), he just let out an "Oooh... okay"

He might struggle a bit, the first time it happens

When you are able to communicate verbally again, he will try to make a plan with you (here comes the plan-guy again, who needs a plan for everything...)

He will ask you what you need, what he can do to help, what you don't like, how it works, etc.

Prefers if you communicate through text to speech, but if you prefer something else, that's totally okay too

He just wants to make sure you're comfortable

He will make sure everyone waits for you to type out what you have to say to make sure you're not talked over or ignored

He will teach you some ninja hand signs as well, for emergency communication

Raph

Would be really confused and frustrated at first

He would think you're purposefully not replying to him and it would tick him off

After you explained (by typing it out), he would feel really guilty about getting angry with you

You'd get one of them rare apologies

After that, he would stick up for you and get angry for you if people weren't considerate enough or impatient in their communication with you

"Situational mutism is hard, you asshole! Be considerate, or I'll beat a little respect into you!"

Violence may not be the answer you were hoping for, but it is an answer nonetheless

The dumbass will sometimes not notice or forget that you have situational mutism, though.

In his own words, feel free to hit him on the head and make him pay attention/remember

Döner kebab

He would be quick to pick up on the fact that it's not 'just you being quiet'

Would ask you about different options in his mind that could possibly be related to you being silent

"Don't you want to talk or can't you talk? You can't? Okay. Does it give you anxiety to talk? Sometimes, okay... You also have autism, right? Yes? Situational mutism? Yes? Okay, that makes sense, then."

He will do his research

Will make you a smart watch that is designed for non-verbal communication, where you have different keywords, phrases, and letters to communicate

One of the phrases will be "Donnie is the best boyfriend ever!"

Please don't give him too much space to talk, though (I'm saying this for your own good). Any silence he can find, he will yap about some science related stuff

Mikey

He would be too busy yapping to notice at first

He would just start asking you endless questions and you could not keep up with answering them, since it takes longer to even answer with text or cuecards.

When you did manage to explain, he'd just react with "wooow... alright. Dope." While he does fingerguns. (6/10, kind of funny response, but could've been more considerate, since it's a struggle sometimes)

Out of all of them, he will pick up the communication the easiest

Cuecards will work best on him

He will spend the afternoon making them with you

He thinks it's really fun to use cuecards to communicate together, and he will use them to you too

Will always have a set of cards on hand for you (or him!)

One of the cards will have an arrow pointing up with the word "kiss here" written on it

[sillygoblinantics]

So about the typhlosion leak

And some stuff about Lily you’ll want to spread the word on

As I’m sure everyone knows now there’s been a leak into gamefreak info. And after taking into mind of the game and source material. I thought I’d share what I found!

Friendly reminder:

Translations from Japanese to English aren’t always accurate and set in stone. And words like girls don’t refer to what many think would be minors. (So zip your pants Lily)

I love Pokémon, gamefreak has been know to pull a lot of inspiration from mythology, folklore, and stories from many cultures and countries so it’s no surprise that many of the Pokémon are based on these mythical creatures.

Taking this into mind, I began to narrow down my search into what could be the possible influence to the typhlosion story. (So if I got something wrong let me know in replies with your own findings and sources! ;3) let’s get into it!

Typhlosion and the cyndaquil line are rodents, for context into my search. So I had to leave out a lot of yokai and monsters to help filter out results:

Fox

Tanuki

Oni

Otters

Child spirits

Items

And any humanoid or human looking yokai

So this leaves us with a few but out of the three that were left I found only one that matched perfectly with our little typhlosion story! Meet:

Kyūso

If you want to read more about it make sure to click the highlighted name and it’ll lead you to a website that talks all about yokai!

Former rat or old rat

It has the ability to change sizes, and has been known to sneak into homes and beds to have adult time with the women. It’s also mentioned to have consumed lamp oil which considering the fire typing of our large fire mouse Pokémon, seemed more than likely to be our culprit!

So, yeah that’s it.

Before freaking out please do your own research into something especially when it comes to said thing being from a completely different culture or country before you apply harsh judgement that would more likely reveal your own intrusive thoughts, Lily Orchard.

Rich coming from Mrs Lily

“Makes a self insert “slice of life” Pokémon webcomic about how her gardevoir that was raised like her sister mindfucks or r🥫pes her comic self but gets away and further validation/vindication to be romantic with, later forcing a child made out of petty selfish want by said gardevoir”

Orchard

Wait who’s that kissing you Lily? That’s not Mikayla or any of your exes? Looks more like…

That’s not lolo? Oh right that’s your “source for good thoughts” friend Ren, right? Why would you have art of someone else kissing and making love to you instead of your wife? Isn’t this drawn by your wife? Why would you have art of being intimate with someone you call a friend? That’s not even “friends with benefits”

Notice the date on that post too?

March 1st, 2020 at 4:20pm

Can’t even excuse it as an April fools joke either especially since you posted it in the general chat which who does that in a dicord public chat infront of minors like… whooooo does that?!

I wonder :3

[poppadom0912]

Hi! You have so many good Chicago stories! I had an idea for a Will Halstead fic, if you'd be interested... OC/Reader is a nurse at Med, she and Will are a (newish?) couple. She has been sick or hurt, but isn't telling Will, to avoid worrying him - Sharon (or someone) has been on his ass, for something he didn't do of course, but he's been under a microscope, so she doesn't want to bother or distract him - until she passes out or ends up in an OR (depending on the illness/injury) and he finds out after the fact... Heavy on the angst is always good ;)

A/N: I'm a sucker for angst. Hope this is good enough. I tried researching as accurately as possible but there might be inaccuracies.

I'm posting this is celebration of not failing my exams which means no resitting! I didn't get the high grades I wanted but we move on. Enjoy!! Hope this is good enough.

Warnings: Canon-typical injuries, blood, angst w a happy ending, surgery

*****

Becoming a nurse was inevitable for you because it was the next best thing after a doctor and you didn't want to go through all those extra years of learning and debt.

You were born with a congenital heart defect as a result of your mother poorly caring for her diabetes during pregnancy. All your life, your parents had been on top of your health, always dragging you to specialists and making sure you were still taking your meds.

You moved states several years ago and now you weren't constantly reminded of the defect you were born with.

There were times though when you did get forgetful and Will never complained about your bad trait that you couldn't handle, he shrugged it off and made sure your health was one hundred percent.

Your relationship was in the honeymoon phase, six months in you were both decently comfortable. Everyone was aware of your relationship but you both agreed to keep work at work and home at home.

Recently, Will was under extra scrutiny from Sharon because of a small incident that happened in the ED when his brother rolled up bleeding from his shoulder. No one could blame him for his reaction, it was completely justified but that hospital were being asses and wouldn't let go.

Following this, your interactions at work decreased at your suggestion to make things a little easier for him. And at first, it was working but then it just got straight up frustrating.

All of a sudden, following the intense summer heatwave, everyone's workload doubled and your hours never lined up. You'd be leaving and he'd be preparing for his second double shift of the week.

And things only got worse from there. You were so busy because of the nurse shortages that your priorities began shifting, your health dwindling down the list.

But no one needed to know that.

*****

Week One

"And that's me done, you ready to break?" Will asked, setting aside the tablet on the desk. You both took your breaks together as much as you could, any time you could get together you would take.

"Yes I am." You nodded, slipping your hand into his as you began walking out of the ED. "I remember someone promising coffee from the cart outside."

Will chuckled, rolling his eyes at the reminder of the expensive coffee sitting outside that you loved. Just as he was going to reply, Maggie shouting your name stopped him.

Sighing, your heart felt heavy both figuratively and literally. With a sheepish smile, you pecked him on the cheek with a promise to catch him later on during shift.

Not being able to get a word in, Will simply watched you scurry off to help the next incoming patient, leaving him to change directions towards the cafeteria.

*****

Week two

You should've been more attentive but being short of breath after a run wasn't uncommon. It was early morning and Will's side of the bed was empty so you took what used to be a daily run alone.

As the day progressed, you started feeling tired and your fatigue progressed. It should've been the first sign to you that you needed to slow down and take care of yourself but the next shooting in Chicago just couldn't wait.

"Y/N, are you okay?" April asked, standing besides you with a new file in hand. "You look pale."

"I'm fine." You assured her, nodding as you licked your drying lips. "And before you ask, Will doesn't know and doesn't need to be interrupted, he has a patient in the ICU."

April backed away apprehensively, always trying to check up with you whenever time permitted. Maybe she was also to blame for not being more forceful with her concerns.

It wasn't her fault that she forgot you had a heart disease.

*****

Week three

"I love you so much." You muttered against his forehead before stepping away to leave the dark bedroom.

Will stirred slightly at the contact, shifting under the covers and further messing up his curls you so badly wanted to delve your fingers into but you were on a time crunch.

Just as you were leaving the room, your chest clenched, pain suddenly overtaking you. Clutching onto the door frame, your grip slacked and your bag dropped causing Will to wake up.

"What's wrong?" Will asked in his half awake state, completely disheveled. He was blinking the sleep away while he turned to you and tried to see what was wrong but failed due to severe sleep deprivation.

"Are you okay? What happened?" He continued, voice hoarse like it usually was after a deep sleep

For some reason, you struggled to form words, your chest feeling as though it was being stabbed repeatedly.

And for some reason, you couldn't come up with a logical excuse and you stupidly left without a word to your lover.

*****

Week four

You couldn't ignore it anymore.

It felt like your body was starting to give up on you. You were constantly tired and out of breath and the chest pains never let up, at times, they even doubled and felt worse than the worst of your period cramps.

The biggest flashing red warning sign should've been when you fainted in the bathroom after your shower.

You came home shattered from your 24 hour shift. Just as you walked in the door, Will was leaving for his 48 hour shift. At this point, you really felt like the world was against you.

You were kinda like roommates more than romantic partners. You were barely at home together and at work, you tried to keep interactions to a minimum after the small incident that the board was elevating ridiculously.

Waking up on the bathroom rug, your body felt numb almost paralysed. It was like what movies described comas to be but your chest was still pulsating in pain.

You weren't being a really good nurse because you simply got up, drank some water and ate some food before sleeping it off.

*****

Week five

The silence was suffocating.

The two of you finally got more than two minutes together but words somehow failed you.

With droopy eyes and furrowed brows, your hands itched to grab the blue scrubs covering your chest. If it wasn't for your boyfriend sitting opposite you, you would've been hunched over the sinks in the women's room.

"What's wrong?" It was a question but with that tone, it felt more like a demand. His two words hit you hard, your eyes dragging from the table up to his big brown eyes filled with nothing but eternal love and concern. "And don't say nothing cause that's clearly bullshit."

And for some reason, you flinched.

Licking your chapped lips, you scrunched your eyes closed at the pain encasing your heart. Despite being back on your medication, the pain didn't cease.

"Y/N? Baby-"

"CODE SILVER. CODE SILVER IN THE ED."

*****

Today

For the past week, Will was hypervigilant about his work. Peter kalmik was never his biggest fan so it didn't help he was constantly making his presence known along with the more power holding board members.

You hated how he no longer fought his case and he just conformed, keeping his head buried in the sand and distanced himself from those he cared about.

It got to such a point that when Jay came in with only work intentions, Will physically forced himself to stay well away.

You were so caught up in your concern for him that you neglected your medication on the kitchen counter.

The pain today all of a sudden increased tenfold in the middle of shift. You were helping Doris turn over a treatment room, listening as she talked about her family drama that you loved to hear about when you felt the world come to an abrupt stop.

Before you knew it, breath escaped you and darkness enveloped you.

“Y/N?!” Doris shouted, going around the bed and crouching down besides your unconscious body.

As she started checking your pulse and your breathing, Connor ran in with Maggie in tow having witnessed you fall from the nurses desk.

In a flurry of rushed movements, you were placed on a bed as your friends searched for the cause of your unconscious state. Out of the blue, Maggie spoke up, reminding everyone of your heart condition.

Equipped with the new but old information, the cardiothoracic surgeon was now more than confident he was able to help you.

"Whose her emergency contact? Is it still her parents or has it been changed to Will?" Connor asked the charge nurse as they started wheeling the gurney towards the elevators. They needed to get you into surgery as soon as possible before you deteriorated.

"Good question."

"Page him anyways."

"Already on it."

*****

"I'm a horrible boyfriend."

"No you're not."

"All the signs were there and I missed them."

"We did too."

"I know Connor is one of the best but what if-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Maggie cut him off, looking at him sternly, eerily resembling the face of a mother telling off her child. "This is no ones fault and you know that, stop punishing yourself for something no one could control."

Will opened his mouth to interject but stopped himself when Maggie held her hand up. "Yes, maybe Y/N should've taken better care of herself but as a doctor, you know that this surgery was inevitable anyways."

"It's better that she was already in the hospital and not home alone where no one would've noticed till you finished in another eight hours." Maggie continued, being more gentle as she got her point across. She was just as concerned but for everyone else's sake, she could be their pillar.

"Look at her Will." Maggie said, gently rubbing him on the back, hopefully bringing him some comfort. "She's in the best hands."

And of course Will knew that, he wouldn't say it to Connor's face but the man was a heck of a surgeon. There was no one else he would want operating on you but he was simply unnerved to no end.

He couldn't wipe off this icky feeling he had. It lurked around him like a shadow and stuck to him like a stain. He felt like a failure - he was unable to help you as both a doctor and a boyfriend - what good was he?

News spread of your collapse around the hospital and as an automatic response, the hospital board stepped metres away from Will, almost like he was sick with a deathly contagious disease.

It was so stupid that it was funny.

Will wanted to rip his hair out. How he was even standing watching your surgery was beyond him right now. He felt sick to his stomach at the sight of your chest cracked open, your heart just there for the world to see.

He never felt so useless before.

*****

Waking up was one of the most confusing scenarios you've ever been in. The last thing you remembered was being in the ED with Doris before blinking and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in recovery.

Your body felt like the heaviest gym weights were sat on you. Your mouth unbelievably dry as your eyes squinted in the dim lighting, trying to look around the room for any sign of life.

And right by your bedside, sleeping in a very awkward position was the man you considered the love of your life.

It must've been the movement of your head, you literally turning your head less than 90 degrees that woke him up because without any further prompting, Will was no longer dead to the world.

Instantly, he was alive and alert, no trace of sleep anywhere on his face as he made eye contact with you.

He felt as light as a feather to see you awake, the biggest weight being lifted off his chest from the relief that nothing went wrong despite knowing Connor made no mistake at all.

"Pulmonary valve stenosis." Was the first thing Will said, easily recognising the confusion painting your face. "Connor put in a balloon. They'll keep you for probably a week to monitor you to see if you need a valvotomy."

You hummed, letting him know that you understood everything he told you without talking. Somehow, without even looking at him, he knew and brought forth a cup with a straw in, holding it to your mouth allowing you to sip easily.

"I'm so sorry Y/N." Will said earnestly, his eyes shimmering as he intertwined your fingers with his. "I wasn't paying enough attention to you otherwise-"

"Stop." You interrupted him, voice still slightly hoarse from not using it. "Blaming yourself helps no one."

"What's done is done." You continued, squeezing his hands when he squeezed yours first. "I'm really the one to blame. If I took care of myself and did something when I first was having problems then we wouldn't be here."

Silence followed, the only sound being the constant beeping from all the machines attached to you.

"Never faint on me again, you hear me?"

"Can't promise you that babes."

"Yes you can."

"You're hilarious Will."

"No, I'm being serious Y/N."

"Don't make me laugh, where's Connor Rhodes, my favourite doctor?"

"Very funny, I think I'll buy April expensive cart coffee next time."

[ftblmaz]

I get that people are interested in my opinion and feelings of the Spain Haka video because I live in Aotearoa and am Māori. There’s a lot of thoughts and feeling and I am happy to discuss Māori culture but I don’t really want to comment much further on the video after this so I’ll try be as articulate as possible.

That video was one of the first things I saw this morning when I woke up and I’m not going to lie I was very upset and angry when I saw it. However, as I have had time to digest this morning the more common feeling is disappointment.

Disappointment in that FIFA has done quite a bit to include both Māori, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander culture in the marketing and branding of the tournament but this still happens.

Disappointment that people whether is the players themselves or the Spanish FA have not done their due diligence and researched our culture before coming over. Not sure how good or accurate Spanish language resources would be on Māori culture though, which is maybe why this disconnect has occurred.

Perhaps even disappointment in New Zealand Football and New Zealand ourselves that they have not helped to provide the resources to these teams coming and visiting Aotearoa.

I am acutely aware that most foreigners only view of Haka is Ka Mate which is one of the Haka the All Blacks perform before a test match which people often reference as a war dance. Haka can be a war dance but it is actually a dance for celebrating life. People perform them at weddings, funerals, welcoming ceremonies, and other occasions. I was actually surprised that all the teams arriving in Aotearoa weren’t welcomed with a Haka.

There are also many different Haka and the roles of men and women in them are different. For example, you will never see a wahine stick her tongue out or crouching. She will always be standing and will pukana without sticking her tongue out.

If there is anything positive from the video is that I hope this is a learning experience for people. As I have had time to reflect I am not offended because I cannot be offended by people who are not educated or informed. I will only be offended if they do not learn from this and it happens again.

Please do not be offended on my behalf. It is no one’s place to tell us how we should react or feel about this.

Also please don’t hate on the players or the team for this. If you are commenting on this all I ask is you do so from an education perspective or solution based approach. Yelling into the void that this is wrong doesn’t help prevent this from happening in the future.

Thanks for taking the time to read this if you have made it this far.