#YOU PUT IT IN ENGLISH SO I CAN READ IT...!!!!!!!!

[clatterbane]

Also just chiming in as a native English speaking language nerd who studied German for years, majored in it, and ended up living in Scandinavia:

You may also want to consider North Germanic languages. Norwegian or Swedish is probably going to be easier for you to pick up than German. Danish too, but the phonology is trickier. If you learn one of them, you can mostly read all three--and talk to basically everyone but Danes. (Unless everyone switches to English, like native speakers usually also need to.)

The grammar is probably going to be easier for a native English speaker to deal with than German, and from what I understand more on par with Dutch or Frisian. I haven't actually studied either one.

If you're up for more grammatical challenge? Try Icelandic or Faroese. They seem to have more in common with German that way, keeping more complicated case systems and inflections which the other three national languages lost and simplified over the centuries. (A lot like English has also done.) Learning German first probably put me in a better position to get either one of them without struggling as hard.

The only real drawback, in terms of day to day usefulness? These are all relatively small languages without nearly as many speakers as German. Pretty much everyone under maybe 70 learned English in school too, partly because these languages are so relatively small and limited to one part of the world. If you put all the North Germanic languages together, they're getting near Dutch in total number of speakers--and that has significantly fewer than German.

Put Icelandic and Faroese together, they're getting close but not quite as many as all regional versions of Frisian combined. (And we're talking 500,000 or less in that case.) That wouldn't stop me from learning any of them, but it's something to consider in terms of practical use and chances for conversational practice.

Here’s how to tell if a language is easy to learn

None of them are easy

They’re all stupid and terrible and will kick you in the nuts

That being said

Languages similar to ones you already speak

Languages you have a lot of motivation to learn

Languages that have a lot of resources and media to watch and/or listen to and/or read

So, if you’re reading this with relative ease (aka you speak English fluently) probably French or Spanish

Do whatever you want though idk

Don’t just choose a language based on how easy it is

Unless that’s what it takes to keep you motivated idk

Go learn Frisian or something

[heeseungiez]

love letter | chapter 1

— with love, your admirer

your whole life, you’ve only known one thing: relaying love letters. but what happens when one of those letters is addressed to you?

— pairings! enhypen hyung line x fem!reader: heeseung x reader; jay x reader; jake x reader; sunghoon x reader

— featuring! enhypen members, haewon from nmixx, yuna from itzy

— genre! romcom, high school au, found family, fluff, angst

— warnings! profanity, lots of self-doubt and low self-esteem, possessive hyung line

— wc! 5k+

— a/n! to celebrate the fact that i managed to get vip1 for one of the european stops, we shall celebrate with the first chapter to this fic, i actually wrote this months back but since i didn't have the motivation to write the other chapters, i left it be... ANYWAYS now i'm writing the update to Tower by the Forest and will make something of this series, we trust!!!

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Dear Y/N,

I know you might think this is a cowardly way of expressing my affections toward you, but I’ll admit I don’t know how else to do this.

I don’t think I’m anyone you would normally notice, considering the company you keep, but I’ve noticed you. I see you every day, always laughing and keeping your chin up even when you’re upset.

My heart has been acting up since the first day I saw you, running across the school courtyard just to tell one of your brothers that you aced your English exam. I remember the way your eyes sparkled as if they had stars in them. I remember the way your voice carried through the air like the sweetest lullaby, and I remember your smile and your giggle — something a picture nor a video could not capture in its raw beauty. 

If I’m being completely honest with you, I’ve been drafting this letter for over a month, so I hope you can accept it, and the sincere feelings I am trying to convey. 

With love, your admirer.

“That’s…”

“Cheesy,” Sunoo says, giggling to himself. “I can sense the glasses on this guy. He totally wears them.”

“Based on a letter?” You raise your brow at him.

“It kinda sounds like something Jay would write. In one of his songs or something,” Haewon points out with a shrug. “He wears glasses, doesn’t he?”

“How does that make this guy someone with glasses, though?” You wave the love letter in the air, your friends all gathered around you to have a clear view of it. 

“It’s the aura,” Yuna agrees with the rest of your friends. “And he said he’s someone you wouldn’t notice, so what if this guy’s a nerd or something? You don’t really notice the studious types…”

“He could be the Heeseung type of a nerd, though, so not a bad thing at all.” Haewon grins, nodding her head.

“We have to find out who wrote this,” Sunoo claims, snatching the letter from you. He stares at it mischievously, examining the handwriting — the strokes of the pen, the spacing, the tilt of the letters — it can say a lot about a person. 

“Who wrote what?” 

You turn abruptly, surprised to see Jake at your lunch table. But when he hands you a small pack of sour gummy worms (your favourite brand, too), you think that you should’ve expected this. Jake never misses a day to give you a snack. 

“Thanks,” you mumble under your breath, but Jake’s attention is already elsewhere. Giving you snacks is a tradition so embedded into his daily routine that he doesn’t even expect you to be thankful. But you are, every single day, you find it quite touching that he always makes the time to think of you.

But now, he’s become invested in the letter in Sunoo’s hands rather than you. “Are you reading a love letter? Did someone give you one? That’s awesome.”

“It’s not mine,” Sunoo replies, not even looking at Jake before giving it back to you. “It’s for Y/N.” Grinning proudly, Sunoo’s hands reach for the envelope instead. 

“She has a secret admirer,” Haewon explains giddily. 

“You don’t know who it is?” Jake’s brows furrow in distaste. “That could be dangerous, Y/N. Who knows what kind of person that could be if they can’t even put their name on a stupid letter.”

“Do your letters always have signatures?” you ask, looking him in the eye.

Jake pouts, rubbing the back of his neck. “Usually, they do,” he says, but you’re already rolling your eyes. “I’m serious, Y/N. This guy could be a weirdo.”

“But they don’t have to be,” Yuna says, disagreeing with Jake. “It’s not like she’ll be meeting him right now or anything.”

“There’s no point, Jake. I already tried,” Jungwon sighs, shaking his head. “Let them do whatever they want. It’s probably going to die down the moment they find out who it is.”

Jake runs a hand through his hair, a frown forming on his lips, though he does his best to pretend like it doesn’t bother him when you glance at him.

“I’ve never had anyone interested in me,” you say rather matter-of-fact, shrugging. “I’ve always been giving you guys love letters. So I’m allowed to be a little curious, don’t you think?” you ask with a raised brow, the corner of your mouth raised in a tiny smirk. 

And if there is a spark of a certain emotion in Jake’s eyes then you both choose to ignore it because why would he be bothered by some random guy being interested in you? Oh, right — he’s supposed to be like an older brother to you. He’s supposed to be protective of you because he doesn’t want to see you hurt. If there are any other reasons for these feelings of anger, then he is totally unaware of them.

“You’ve had plenty of guys that were interested in you,” Jake claims confidently, and your brow shoots up. Because it occurs to him then that those plenty of guys he speaks of never dared to approach you. He knows of them, but you don’t, and he really fucked up by letting the fact slip. God, if the other guys find out that he told you, they’re going to kill him.

“I mean, like, probably,” he adds nervously, but the damage has been done. Your eyes are narrowed at him, wondering what exactly he meant by his words. 

“Of course, there’s plenty of guys. Y/N is pretty as hell!” Yuna exclaims, grinning at you. “But, the fact is, none of them have ever approached her or tried to give her a love letter until now, so…”

“This guy’s special,” Haewon finishes, agreeing with her friend. 

“Not that special, or he would’ve signed it,” Jake mumbles under his breath, rolling his eyes. 

Jungwon, the only person who heard him, pats Jake’s back with a resigned expression on his face. “Just let them be. The more you’re against it, the more they’ll push toward it.”

“So who do you think it could be?” you ask your friends.

You spent the whole day walking around school, trying to figure out who could possibly be the author of the letter you received, but neither you nor your friends came to much of a conclusion. The letter was fairly vague and you had nothing to go by other than your own theories of what the person could look like.

So, obviously, your mood is slightly down when you’re heading home with Jay and Sunghoon walking by each side of you. They seem fairly clueless, so Jake probably hasn’t told them about the letter yet, but it might be better if you are the one to tell them. All of them, in fact, not each of them, one by one. But Jake and Heeseung both have practice for the respective sport they play, and as soon as you, Jay and Sunghoon reach your building, they also have responsibilities to get to — the band and figure skating. 

It’s okay, though. You’ll tell them later. After all, this is something to gloat about — but you would rather know who gave you the letter first.

“You’re strangely quiet today,” Jay points out, nudging you with his elbow. He chuckles softly, when he sees your glare and the slight pout on your lips for daring to hit you. “I mean, it’s normal for him, but you usually have things to say about school.”

“Right. Yes,” you say, nodding. But there isn’t much you want to tell them besides the situation with the letter — and you can’t tell them unless it’s all of them. It’s not the right time yet. Instead, when the three of you stop at the bus stop together, you take off your backpack to pull out the new letters you received for Jay and Sunghoon.

“Here, take this.” You put their respective paper bags in their hands with a grin. “Today’s been pretty productive. I mean, I guess all the girls just felt like I’ll pick it up since I was kinda walking around school like an idiot, but it’s whatever,” you explain with a shrug. “Gosh, I really am becoming an office worker. Is this my calling?”

“You can do better than that, Y/N.” Jay shakes his head, laughing softly. “You can just tell the girls to stop giving the letters to you, you know? He doesn’t read them anyway.” Jay pushes Sunghoon teasingly.

“And you do?” Sunghoon raises his brow at him, rolling his eyes.

“Of course! It’s inspiration,” Jay says, grabbing a handful of the letters from his bag. “As long as they’re not full of mistakes and actually well written.”

“That just sounds like you’re just plagiarizing your own love letters,” you mutter, and Sunghoon chuckles, giving you a fist bump. “Do your letters have signatures? So you can give credits, you know.”

“Most of the time it’s at least initials.” Jay shrugs, not thinking much of your question, but you hum. “And their numbers, so I can contact them if I’m interested, but that’s pretty dumb. Who becomes interested in anyone over one letter?”

You frown. “Well, maybe people who don’t have many other options,” you say defensively, crossing your arms.

Jay and Sunghoon furrow their brows, exchanging looks but say nothing about your attitude. Instead, Sunghoon shakes his head and says: “There are always options, Y/N.”

“For people like you,” you remark, driving the guys’ confusion even further as they stare at you. 

“Where’s that coming from? Did something happen today that we should know about?” Jay asks, examining you with the gaze of his that tells you he can read you like an open book. But you shake your head.

“No,” you lie, and Jay knows it. “Nothing much happened today.”

“If someone told you something…” Sunghoon starts, puffing out his chest, “I can fight.”

“So can I.” You roll your eyes, shoving him with your shoulder. “But no one said anything. I’ve just been thinking,” you try to explain yourself, waving your hands in disinterest to move on from the topic. “Ah, look, there’s our bus.” You welcome the distraction with a smile.

“We’re hanging out at Jake’s place tonight, right?” Sunghoon asks, affirming the plans for after dinner.

“No, Heeseung’s. He said he’ll be cooking ramen,” Jay replies, looking pointedly at you. Tilting your head and smiling innocently, you bat your eyelashes, well aware of the fact that you are the reason why. But you’ve been craving ramen for what feels like ages now, and Heeseung makes it the best.

After the three of you get on the bus, you mostly listen to Jay’s extensive rant about math homework that he didn’t do and was promptly punished for. Because, yes, it’s totally the teacher’s fault that he didn’t do the homework he had an entire week to work on.

You enter the Lee apartment without knocking or any kind of warning, really. But the door is usually unlocked, and since your families are used to all of you constantly coming over, nobody makes a huge deal out of it.

Heeseung is in the kitchen, already preparing his things for ramen. There are seven packs of Shin Ramyun scattered across the table, and you watch Heeseung beat the eggs in his own weird — unique — way that he says makes them taste much better than if he did it like any other normal person would. His dedication to making ramen properly is unyielding, though, and you smile as you watch him move around the kitchen.

“Need any help?” you ask with a raised brow, and Heeseung startles at the sound of your voice, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N, you’re here already?” he asks, and you shrug.

“I had nothing else to do. Parents are still working.” The thing is, while you appreciate your parents for constantly working to put food on your table, you’d appreciate it if they could also be at the table sometimes. But you got used to either cooking for yourself, or going over to any of the other guys’ homes to eat dinner with their families.

Heeseung gives you a look, sighing. “You didn’t eat at all, did you?” he asks knowingly, shaking his head in disapproval. “It’s an unhealthy habit, Y/N, you know that, right?”

“I’m just not hungry,” you defend yourself, but Heeseung smacks his lips together.

“That’s not a reason not to eat. You should always eat at least a little bit,” he sighs, crossing the kitchen to open a cabinet. “Come here,” he says, handing you a protein bar. “Eat that first. I’ll make the ramen fast.”

“Hee,” you call his name, and when he looks at you, you give him a downturned smile. “Thank you.”

Heeseung chuckles and shakes his head. “Just eat it. I couldn’t possibly let you eat ice cream on an empty stomach.”

“There’s ice cream?” Your eyes widen.

“Not if you don’t eat.”

You pout. “Then cook faster.”

“Do you want to make the ramen yourself?”

“I don’t know who said that. Maybe you’re just hearing voices.” You look around yourself, pretending not to have made any remark earlier. Heeseung rolls his eyes playfully, his focus half on you, and half on the ramen he’s preparing. 

While Heeseung measures the water for the portions, you open each pack of ramen, taking out the seasoning for them, so you can combine it together in the water. Every time Heeseung glances at you, you also make a big show of taking a bite from the protein bar he gave you earlier, making him laugh each time.

“Yoi, I’m exhausted!” Jake barges inside the Lee apartment with a huff, heading toward the living room without as much as a glance toward you and Heeseung in the kitchen. He plops down on the sofa, completely taking over the piece of furniture while nobody else is here. “Coach made me do laps around the field for no reason, and then I had to stay longer to help Riki — the new kid that got onto the team.”

“He’s crazy good and has a lot of potential but… still needs a lot of work.” Jake runs a hand through his hair, finally bothering to glance at you and Heeseung. Although you’re both listening, the two of you also focus on making ramen together. 

“Maybe he’ll be the captain after you go to college. If you teach him right,” Heeseung says, cutting some spring onions to put into the broth. 

“Maybe,” Jake hums. “You got anyone for basketball captain yet?”

“Nah. But we’re figuring it out,” says Heeseung confidently. “I’ve got my eye on Jihoo and Nicholas. They’ve got potential too.”

Jake hums, nodding. He stretches his body out on the sofa, head hanging over the armrest. “Hey, Y/N, have you mentioned—”

“Not yet, so please, keep it to yourself,” you stop him before he gets to finish the sentence, glancing at Heeseung uneasily. The boy is already looking between you and Jake with his eyes narrowed. “I’ll tell you when Jay and Sunghoon get here,” you reassure him with a sigh. 

“Then why does Jake know?” Heeseung’s voice is hurt, the tiny pout and his large eyes making your resolve falter. But you shake your head with a soft giggle. 

“Good timing on his side,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at the boy sprawled on the sofa. He just makes a silly face in return. “Which actually reminds me, I need to go get your letters!”

Since you’re waiting for the water to boil, you want to run the few meters to your home, but Heeseung grabs your wrist and stops you. The expression on his face says enough you need to know — he doesn’t want the letters. 

“But—” you want to argue, not entirely sure why you want to defend the work of random girls at school, but your heart dips into your stomach with Heeseung’s hand still wrapped around your wrist. The least he could do is appreciate the work people put into admiring him. 

“I’m not interested anyway.” Heeseung shakes his head. 

“But I got so many today. I need to—”

“Just trash them, Y/N, it doesn’t matter.” Heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, and it bothers you.

Maybe you’re overreacting because for the first time in your life, you also received a love letter of your own, and you actually treasure it. But you’d expect Heeseung to take them at least. So he can throw them out himself. Not have you do it. 

“Y/N?” Heeseung notices your frown, of course, he does. But he figured since you’re partially bothered — though never say so — with people constantly making you relay love letters that it would be easier to just tell you to throw them out and let it be. 

Maybe it would be easier to say that reading them doesn’t do anything for him. It isn’t a productive way of spending time anyway, when he knows that he won’t be interested in any of the girls trying to reach him. But that would mean he’d also have to explain why he’s so uninterested. And he’d rather keep that secret to himself. All while he watches you pout, staring up at him with the biggest puppy eyes known to man.

You look so cute, and you don’t even realize what it does to him. So he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Just… bring them. I’ll watch the ramen.”

The corners of your lips instantly lift in a grin, and Heeseung feels like tearing his hair out as he watches you run away. 

Jake, who watched the whole interaction, laughs sympathetically. It’s almost comical how oblivious you are to them, but it makes sense in a way. After all, it’s you who’s been calling them your family. “You shouldn’t have said to trash the letters, man,” he says with a shake of his head. 

“I thought it’d be easier,” Heeseung says defensively. 

Jake purses his lips in disapproval. He’ll respect your wish not to tell Heeseung about the love letter yet, but there is another confession he has to make because there are almost no secrets between the five of you.

“She thinks nobody likes her, y’know.” Jake stares up at the ceiling as he says it, slightly in disbelief. “And I may have accidentally let it slip that a lot of people do like her, actually.”

“Did you—”

“God no, she’d kill us.” Jake shakes his head vigorously, glancing at Heeseung whose attention is back to the ramen. “I mean, we can always just say the guys at school totally respect us so much they don’t wanna mess with our younger ‘sister’,” he says the last word with such disgust it makes Heeseung chuckle. 

“Damn, it smells amazing in here.” The door opens with new guests coming inside the apartment. Jake and Heeseung greet Jay with an acknowledging nod. “Did Y/N not get here yet?”

“She’s just getting our letters,” Heeseung replies with a sigh. “I told her to get rid of them but she didn’t like that.”

“Oh yeah, something’s been kinda off today. Did she tell you anything?” Jay furrows his brows, glancing between his two friends. 

Jake and Heeseung exchange glances. “I think we all need to talk later,” Jake sighs just as the door opens to you giggling about something with Sunghoon on your tail. 

“Oh, hello, Jay,” you greet the boy with a smile on your face.

Crossing the room, you put Heeseung’s bag with letters on the kitchen counter. Jake’s ends up on the coffee table. But one letter remains in your hands as the boys’ attention remains on you. Jake recognizes it immediately, while the others stare with narrowed eyes, tilting their heads in confusion. 

“Look, guys!” You wave the letter in the air with a grin. “I got a love letter today.” Your giggle reverberates through the open space of the apartment. “Can you believe it? Someone actually likes me.”

Jake huffs in disappointment while the others gape in disbelief. On one hand, they do not like the fact you received a love letter, but their frowns only deepen at the soft, excited tone of your voice that reveals how little confidence you actually have in yourself. 

“Yeah, we believe it,” Jay mumbles under his breath, glaring at the paper in your hand. “Is that why you were so upset earlier? I mean, love letters don’t really mean much if the person can’t just face you.”

“It doesn’t even have a signature,” Jake adds, still spread over the sofa. Though he changed positions and is now resting his head on his arms. “What is the point if you have to guess at who it is? Shouldn’t he be the one to come to you?”

“Yeah, I’d also rather have someone come up to me and just tell me to my face that they like me,” Sunghoon agrees with the guys, nodding. They’re not jealous, obviously, because they have no reason to be, but they definitely want to protect you.

“One of your letters from today is from Jang Wonyoung, Hoon.” You frown, not sharing the same opinion as the others. “You could read it, at least.”

Heeseung remains quiet, attending to the ramen that is finished by now. 

“Why? It won’t change the fact that I’m not interested.” Sunghoon shrugs and your frown deepens, shoulders dropping in disappointment.

Why are they trying to make you feel bad about this? Just because they get love letters every day and it’s not as meaningful to them anymore, it doesn’t mean your love letter isn’t a big deal. 

“But it’s Jang Wonyoung,” you say weakly. “She’s the prettiest girl in my year, and she’s so sweet… I actually don’t even know why she bothers with you, really.” You shake your head, dropping your letter on the counter next to Heeseung’s full bag of letters. Your one compared to his twenty or so feel so… sad. And it makes you furious, too.

Sunoo is right. You really do live your life only as the girl that talks to them. “And you! You have a letter from Huh Yunjin in that pile! But all you’re going to do is possibly use it as inspiration for one of your songs without actually caring about her.” You point at Jay with a pout before aiming your glare at Jake. “And you! There’s a letter from Ningning, but why would you care with the amount of letters you get anyway, right?” 

There isn’t much the guys can say to defend themselves. To be fair, they have nothing to defend in the first place, but you’re upset, and they realize that they are the source of it all.

“It’s not that we don’t care, Y/N,” Heeseung says softly, while still attending to the ramen, now portioning it carefully into five bowls. Yours gets most of the eggs since he knows you love them. “We’re just not looking for relationships. It’s our last year at school, and we have other things to focus on.”

“But why is it so wrong to like someone?” you cry out desperately, throwing your arms in the air with a dramatic huff. “People like you. Nobody actually likes me.” 

You hate being emotional like this, your eyes glossy with unshed tears, but you’ve never actually spoken any of these words out loud. It’s something that has been brewing and festering within you for years as you tried to ignore it. Now it’s overflowing, it seems. People don’t actually like you, though. They like the fact that you have a direct line to Heeseung, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon.

“At least not for me,” you add, your voice breaking.

“Y/N,” Jay tries to approach you, reaching out for your hand, but you pull away, yanking your arm out of his grip. He doesn’t let the hurt on his face show when you do that, respecting your space. 

“I need to be alone,” you say, wiping away a tear that has barely escaped. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

They can only watch you swiftly walk away from them, stunned by your words. They never realized how much this whole situation truly affected you, and they hate that they haven’t noticed earlier. 

Jake fully sits up once you're gone, another sigh leaving his lips. “I told you,” he says to Heeseung. “But we can’t exactly tell her the truth.”

“She’d kill us,” Jay agrees quietly, staring at the letter you left behind. A letter that slipped past them — that, if they were more careful — would have never reached you.

“But she will find out herself if she starts asking around,” Heeseung says pragmatically, rubbing his eyes defeatedly. He stares at the bowl he made for you that you also didn’t take, which means you haven’t had dinner yet.

“We can’t tell her.” Sunghoon’s tone is firm. 

How do you tell someone that you’ve been blocking every single person that ever liked them from approaching them anyway? How do you explain that you nearly punched some guy for saying that they’re hot? Exactly. You don’t. 

“Whoever this guy is, though, we have to find out who he is before she does.” Heeseung looks at the letter that started this. “Just to talk to him…”

“It doesn’t change the fact that we made Y/N feel awful about herself, though,” says Jay, staring at the ground. 

“Maybe we can explain to her that no one at our school is good enough for her,” Sunghoon tries to reason, but Jay and Heeseung both shake their heads. “They don’t deserve her,” he adds under his breath. 

“I mean, we never told her that,” Jake takes Sunghoon’s side, but the two older boys already decided that it wasn’t a good excuse. “Okay, so what else do you want to do?”

“We need to let her know people do like her.” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, glancing at each of his friends. “Just… in our own way. No surprises. And find out who the fuck is trying to give her love letters under our radar because he can, respectfully, back the fuck off.”

Jay nods in agreement. Then, noticing Heeseung playing with the bowl that was to be yours, he purses his lips. “She didn’t eat dinner yet, did she?”

Heeseung shakes his head.

“I’ll take it to her.”

“Be nice.”

“I always am, dickhead.”

You lie in bed, staring at your phone. Sunoo, Jungwon, Haewon and Yuna are currently doing their best to cheer you up while berating the guys, and you try to smile through your tears. 

You just can’t understand why they can’t be happy for you. Sure, you understand caution, but the way they spoke — it was more than that. You know for a fact they hated it. They hate the idea of someone liking you. They are probably disgusted by it. So it hurts, obviously it hurts, your heart aching to the point you wish you could make yourself disappear off the face of the earth. 

Are you really that unlikable? Is your only good trait the friendships you made when you were a child?

You quickly hide your phone when you hear a knock on the door, followed by Jay’s voice. He opens the door to your bedroom without waiting for your response. “You’re not that upset if you didn’t lock any of your doors,” he says softly, taking only a few steps inside. 

Your back is turned to him, and you cover your head with your duvet. He doesn’t move — or at least you can’t hear him move — until there’s a small thud. The sound of him placing something on the desk by your door. 

“Heeseung said you didn’t eat yet,” he murmurs, walking toward your bed. He just stands in front of it, facing your back for a good few seconds before crouching and speaking again. “And for the record, it’s not that we don’t care. Or… don’t like people or whatever,” he sighs. 

“But when— I mean, let’s say hypothetically, if there already was someone you had in mind, would you also entertain the idea of liking someone else? Or indulge them because they wrote a love letter to you?”

Jay pauses, taking a moment to compose his thoughts. “We— I— people do like you for you, Y/N. You might not see it but you are the prettiest girl in your year.”

That makes you turn around. You stare up at Jay, into his eyes, a frown still settled on your lips. 

“That’s not true,” you argue, but Jay smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, wiping any remaining tears from your cheeks. “It’s Wonyoung. Everyone says it’s Wonyoung,” you claim, shaking your head. 

“Well, then I guess I disagree with everyone,” Jay whispers softly, his hand resting on your cheek. You absentmindedly lean into his touch, enjoying the warmth of his skin on yours. “I’m really sorry we made you feel like that one love letter was insignificant and like you’re not… likable. ‘Cause that’s honestly the last thing you are, Y/N. There’s so much to like about you, you know? And the most important thing is that you are aware of it.”

Your frown only deepens, but not because you’re upset anymore. You reach out for Jay’s hand on your cheek and squeeze it. He smiles, flipping his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. 

“Then why doesn’t anyone do stuff like… y’know… the girls that like you guys?” you ask rhetorically, but Jay chuckles regardless, an answer already in his mind. Not the one where he admits to threatening death to anyone who dares to even take a step in your direction or look at you wrong, obviously, but the other one — the real, vulnerable one.

“Because truly liking somebody is scary,” he says matter-of-factly. “We’re going to college soon, and falling in love is a terrifying concept for all of us.”

“But loving somebody should be a good thing,” you claim with a pout. “All the movies and books say that.”

“But that’s just the end of each of those stories.” Jay shakes his head, shifting in his position. Crouching is starting to hurt his knees, but he tries his best to hide his discomfort. 

You notice, though, moving on your bed just the tiniest bit before letting go of Jay’s hand and patting the space next to you. You open your duvet, inviting Jay in. Cuddling is not something you do often, but you can use the comfort of somebody next to you.

Jay’s hesitant at first, his brain going a mile per minute as he comprehends the whole situation. His eyes widen the slightest bit as he stares at you and the open invitation to join you on your bed. 

He does accept it, however, fitting himself on the bed meant for one person only. Though it barely bothers you as you smile and wrap your arms around Jay’s waist as if he were nothing but a plush toy. His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at the action. 

In his head, he has to remind himself that you don’t see him that way. That to you, he’s just a brotherly figure, and this doesn’t mean anything. Not really. And yet his body refuses the fact as his cheeks and ears warm up the more you pull yourself closer. 

Your words only further prove his point. “You don’t think the person who wrote the love letter for me is a creep, right? Because Jake said that and I don’t want to believe him.”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Jay sighs, carefully wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “It’s hard to tell with letters that people don’t actually sign their name on. Why does this guy want to hide from you if he likes you?”

“Gosh, this is annoying. Why can’t things be simple?” you whine, moving away from Jay. “I want to like someone who also likes me back. That would be nice.” You stare at your ceiling, and the glow in the dark stars your parents stuck on there when you were a baby. 

“Yeah… I wish things could just be simple and easy like that,” Jay agrees with you, only to be interrupted by your sudden movement.

You sit up on the bed, feeling faint, your arms slightly shaking, and you know for a fact the lack of any food is starting to get to you. But you also don’t feel hungry at all.

“The ramen,” Jay says instantly, getting out of bed to give you the bowl with a set of chopsticks and spoon. “I’ll just— I think I should go back to the guys, but… just remember what I said, okay?”

“Yeah.” You smile. The ramen Jay brought is still warm, so you should probably eat it fast. “I’m sorry for—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N. Just eat, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jay places a kiss on the top of your head.

“See you tomorrow,” you mumble, digging into the food. 

If Jay lingers at the door a bit longer than he should just to make sure you are eating, you ignore it. But deep down, you are glad that at least someone cares. 

You honestly don’t know what you’d do if Jay suddenly disappeared from your life. Out of the four, he’s probably the one who spends most of his free time by your side, and you’ve gotten so used to it that if Jay isn’t with you, you often feel like a huge piece of you is missing. 

But then his piercing stare becomes a bit too much, and you giggle. “Okay, get out already,” you say, barely glancing up at him from your food. 

Jay laughs, trying to ease the atmosphere. “Don’t choke on the noodles when I’m gone.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Goodbye!”

permanent tags! @moonpri @addictedtohobi

tags! @wildtigerlili @ancnymcnzjy @ikaw-at-ikaw @vegahrid @justalittle-hee @sadenchiladas @semisemirin1i82 @raavenarmy-blog @haechsworld @sievenderz @bananna-12 @firstclassjaylee @antoinettenotfount @immelissaaa @woniefull @sunooqvrlsx @leehslvr @lighthouseraven34 @yjwxfxr @atydlupout1234 @mora134340 @starfallia @tinyteezer @m1kkso @right-person-wrong-time @seuuns @leeymws @aespaqq @naevisringring @sievenderz

feel free to ask to be tagged!

[ms-sasa]

Random HC for domestic 141 x reader

Reader got that random high motivation for deep cleaning the house when they come home.

No its not proof read, ne English is not my first language, yes it was a spontaneous idea

Yes i have to deep clean the house because we are getting guests....

Price

-would come home expecting his partner to run to the door greeting him but nooo not today...

Today the reader got really pissed off by a coworker/friend/stranger and had to get that angry energy out off their system.

So what would be better than going for an angry cleaning free...

Reader would curse and throw around the laundry while sorting it in the right baskets, slamming the door of the washing machine shut and pressing the few dress shirts he had like they are burning their enemies with the hot iron.

Price decided that it would be the best to retreat to his office and wait for the storm to pass by...

Later that evening he heard a soft knock on his door and a calm and tired reader entered.

"better luv..?'

"hmhm..." They walked over to him hugging him

"welcome home..."

"thanks... Do you want takeout and tell me what happened?"

"yea... And cuddles"

Simon

Simon would come home to open his flats door just to be blocked halfway through. Some furniture was standing in front of the door

Reader had noticed the sand in the hallway when they walked around barefoot. And boy no way that was acceptable... How often did they tell simon to put his damn boots off at the door.

So what started as a quick vacuum of the hallway ended in lifting the shoe rag , rolling up the carpets and dusting off the Skirting boards.

Hence why Simon was now blinking confused why the fucking dresser was standing in the hallway.. in front of the entrance.

"luv'...?"

"si! Good you are home!! I need your help.."

The dresser is moved and he was pulled inside. After a quick kiss on the lips and a warning to take his fucking boots off at the door he was ordered to move the couch....

That's how he ended up seated on the disassembled couch waiting for his love to finish with the living room, ranting about the sand that was just EVERYWHERE. Simon made a mental note to make sure to take off his boots at the front door from now on....

Johnny

Johnny was glad to be home again. The mission was okay and he even got to shower at base before coming home but still...

It was good that he showed at base because when he unlocked the door he was greeted by the smell of cleaning supplies and something that looked like his bathroom had thrown up all the little pots and bottles into the hallway.

"lass... What...?" He walked into the flat peeking into the bathroom and grined.

Reader was wearing shorts, a tank top and cleaning gloves. Added to that was a pair of Bluetooth headphones and they were dancing around and singing (badly) to some 90's pop song.

So it was obvious what he was gonna do next .. right strip down to his boxers, connecting the phone to the home speaker blasting the pop songs on them and joining the cleaning party.

"johnny!!! What are you doing??"

"helping yer lass now move over and give me that sponge"

They ended up with a beautiful clean bathroom, a good hot shower together and a noise complaint from the neighbors.

Kyle

Kyle was hungry when he came back from work this time. Hungry and tired but when he enters the flat and hears the clutter of pans and pots on the floor he knows dinner had to wait.

"babe?" He rounded the corner and almost tripped over a stack of plates "what in the..."

"oh hey love.. uhm we are gonna need to order food..."

Kyle looked around at the completely empty kitchen. Every pot, glass, plate or knife they owned was spread somewhere in the living room. The cabinets empty and even the pantry was bare of everything that wasn't canned or otherwise securely closed.

"babe.. why??" Then something flew past him and he noticed it in an instant groaning. food moths...

"yea... Sorry love." The reader got up and got over to him kissing him hello "how about you go and get some new essentials and some takeaway for dinner? I'll finish here"

Kyle sighed and nodded... No home cooked goods for him tonight

[miss-canon-event]

Lessons of the Heart 📚💖

Single Dad!Miguel x Teacher!FReader

Summary: Being a father is not easy, and even less so when he is single. This is Miguel O'Hara's life, who has raised his daughter Gabriella alone after her mother's abandonment. Everything has been extremely difficult and challenging, especially now that they have to start over in a new neighborhood. Miguel barely has time for anything else besides his daughter and his job… everything changes a bit when he meets his daughter's teacher: you.

CW: mostly Gabi's POV, mild angst, insecurities, bullying, sad children, mentions of abandonment, mentions of xenophobia, not use of (Y/N), English is not my native language. (Let me know if I forgot something, pls)

Divider by: @cinemabeans

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm very nervous because I've wanted to write this for a long time but I was overcome by anxiety or insecurity 🥺💔… however, I dared and here's an idea that I've been baking for a long time. The ideas are in drafts on my cell phone or in my notebooks, but… here it is. I hope you like it a lot!

Thanks a lot to @miss-tarja , who read my writing and helped me to improve some things, advised me, and of course, encouraged me to write this fanfic that I've been putting off for so long...💚

There are those who say that changes are good and necessary. That they can often cause fear or discomfort, but that the only thing left to do was to trust in the process.

Make that leap of faith...

However, this important change in little Gabriella O'Hara's life was almost a nightmare.

Her curious, brown eyes looked out the car window. The huge buildings, the vehicles coming and going at all hours, the shiny signs... it was all very bright. Almost blinding.

But... Gabriella had not the slightest interest in enjoying Nueva York. She missed Mexico, her comfort zone, her school and friends... even that annoying and nosy neighbour.

Not that enormous cage of concrete.

She looked to her other side, where her new backpack, adorned with a lovely Kuromi keychain and full with books and differents pencils, occupied the empty spot next to her.

First school day...

The loud blaring of a horn brought her back to reality. Great, nothing better than starting the day with the usual Nueva York traffic.

The girl's eyes glanced in the rearview mirror, where she met her dad's red ones: Miguel O'Hara. A tall, big, burly man. His brown hair was slicked back, with a few messy strands. She saw him smile slightly through it, but the girl didn't smile back.

— Mija...

Gabriella looked at her dad again, attentive to what he had to say.

— We talked about this, didn't we? — he said, holding tight the wheel. —I know you're nervous, and it's scary being new... but I promise you that feeling will go away when you meet your new classmates. You'll make friends, and who knows, maybe there will be a soccer team at school. — Miguel told her, trying to lighten the mood a bit and make Gabriella calm down a little.

However, he didn't get a very convincing answer. The girl just shrugged and nodded, turning her gaze back to the window.

Miguel sighed and turned his full attention back to the front, pressing slightly on the accelerator as the traffic light changed to green.

There was not doubt that the change of country, house, neighborhood had been very hard on both of them, especially Gabriella. The first few days she cried a lot, saying she missed her home and her old classmates... now, she chould be calmer, but she wasn't smiling or playing...

Miguel hoped that would all change soon...

The school was a huge, three-level building, with walls painted in soft tones and many windows. It was designed to house different grades and educational levels.

As it was the first day, it was common to see several children saying goodbye to their parents. Some with tears in their eyes, others reluctant to enter.

Miguel held Gabriella's small hand affectionately as he guided her towards the entrance. He felt how wet her little hand was. A clear sign of the nervousness she carried inside.

He bent down to be at her level and, with a calm smile, tried to transmit some reassurance.

— Mi amor, don't worry. Just... be yourself. I know you are nervous, that you miss our old home. But I promise you that soon you will feel better. You'll meet new friends, your teachers... and I'll be here, waiting for you when the class is over.

His big hands rested on her shoulders and gave her a tendre kiss on her forehead.

— Fine, papito. — the girl answered with a slight nod.

— That's my brave girl. Now go and be a good one.

Gabriella simply nodded and started walking towards the school.

— Gabriella! — Miguel called to her.

She turned around and when she saw him, Miguel made a heart shape with his hands.

— ¡Te quiero mucho, mi niña!

For the first time in a long time, Gabriella smiled sweetly and returned the gesture, also forming a small heart with her hands.

— Tambien te quiero, papito.

Miguel watched her until she disappeared into the crowd of children. He exhaled deeply, feeling some of the weight on his shoulders ease. Seeing his daughter so vulnerable broke his soul. He missed the cheerful, energetic little girl...

Now, he could only be strong for her, and be there for her when his little girl needed him.

With confident steps, he returned to his car and drove to his new job in Alchemax, the renowned corporation that hired him thanks to his research and thesis developed during his PhD.

And the day was just beginning...

If from outside the school looked big, inside it was even more impressive. The walls were adorned with photos and portraits of outstandings students, either for academic achievements or for representing the school in fairs or contests.

Gabriella walked through the halls with her backpack on her back and her lunch box in her hands. She felt so tiny...

Around her passed children of all heights, some her size, others much taller. Anxiety didn't leave her alone.

Amidst the bustle, Gabriella spotten an adult woman giving directions to the students, holding a folder.

— First grade to fifth grade to the first floor! Sixth grade to eighth grade, to the second floor! No running! — the woman repeated it loudly.

She was robustly built, with an apron decorated with flowers, glasses on the tip of her nose, and curly hair pulled back in a bun. She repeated the same instruction to each group that arrived.

Swallowing saliva, Gabriella reached over and gently tugged on the apron to get her attention.

— Excuse me, Miss... — she said softly, almost imperceptibly.

The woman looked down to meet the shy eyes of the girl with a pony tail.

— Good morning, little one. How can I help you, hm?

— I'm new... and I don't know where my classroom is. Could you help me, please? — Gabriella replied, fiddling nervously with her fingers.

The woman nodded as she flipped through the folder she was holding.

— Name?

— Gabriella O'Hara.

Nodding again, she searched the alphabetized list.

— O'Hara... here you are. First floor. Third grade, section C. Go down that hallway, then turn left. The doors have garde signs on them. Remember, 3rd C.

— Thank you.

Gabriella took a deep breath and started walking, following the directions, surrounded by other children also looking for their respectives classrooms.

Each step felt heavier, her heart pounding. She was in an unknown country, in a different school, with faces she had never seen before...

Finally, her eyes fell on the door that displayed the words '3rd C'. The door was decorated with flowers and stars made of glittery foamy. The door was opened, allowing her to see the desks occupied by children her age.

The classroom was cozy and cheerful, with a large whiteboard, coat hooks, small lockers and a 'WELCOME' sign hanging from the ceiling. Still, Gabriella didn't enter immediately. She stood outside for a moment, watching the other children take their seats.

And then, the bell rang.

The first day of school had offically begun.

There were hurried footsteps, laughter, shouting, and various conversations coming from other children.

Gabriella crossed the doorway of the classroom timidly as her new classmates sat down in their seats.

She, on the other hand, remained motionless by the door. Overcome by uncertainty and with her heart pounding.

At that moment, a lovely-looking young woman entered the classroom, carrying some books. You were wearing a lovely outfit: baggy jeans and a white T-shirt with a rainbow drawn on the chest. Your hair was long and pulled back in a high ponytail, adorned with colorful clips that gave yourself a cheerful vibe.

Holding your hand was a little girl of a similar age to Gabriella, with two long braids that fell over her shoulders and freckles all over her face. You whispered something in her ear, and the girl walked toward a pair of desks, sitting down at one of them.

— Good morning, students! — you greeted in an enthusiastic yet sweet voice.

— Good morning, Miss! — the children answered in unison, marking each syllable carefully.

— Welcome to this new school day. I hope that together we will experience beautiful moments, full of learning, and-

—Miss,— a tan-skinned girl interrumpted, raising her hand.

— Yes? — you said kindly.

— The new girl hasn't sat down yet.

Immediately, almost a dozen eyes fell on Gabriella, who felt the ground vanish beneath her feet. Her body tenses and her hands, soaked in sweat, clenched her lunch box tightly.

You gave her a warm smile and approached her tenderly, bending down to her level.

— Hi. I'm sorry I didn't notice you before,— you apologised with a smile.

Gabriella swallowed nervously.

— Come, let me introduce you to the class, — you added, extending your hand with a welcoming expression.

Gabriella hesitated for a moment, her trembling fingers still clinging to the lunch box as if it were a shield. But your gaze was so genuine, so full of calm, that little by little her muscles began to relax. Shyly, she reached out her hand and accepted yours.

— You're very brave, — you whispered kindly, as you walked together to the front of the classroom. — Changing school is never easy, but I'm so happy you're here.

When you both reached the whiteboard, your turned to the class with a kind smile.

— What's your name, sweetie?

— Gabriella...

— Gabriella. Nice to meet you, Gabriella, — you talked to the others. — Students, let's welcome Gabriella with respect and kindness. We've all been new once, and we know it's not easy. Let's make her feel welcome and accompanied.

— YEEEEEES! — the children shouted in unison.

— All right... hmmm... you can sit next to Emily.

You pointed to the empty desk next to the girl with braids. With slow, nervous steps, Gabriella made her way to the indicated spot and sat down next to Emily, who hadn't said a word since she arrived.

Then, you wrote your name on the board with colored markers, eagerly introducing yourself, but Gabriella was barely paying attention. Her mind was elsewhere, wandering between thoughts of her old home and doubts about this new beginning.

— Do you like Kuromi? — Emily's voice brought her out of her reverie.

— Huh?

— I mean... do you like Kuromi? — Emily repeated, pointing to the keychain hanging from Gabriella's backpack. It was a nice keychain, one that Miguel had bought her at the mall a few weeks ago.

— Yes... — Gabriella replied quietly.

Emily smiled and showed her hers: a My Melody keychain.

Gabriella smiled back, this time a sincere smile. That girl seemed... kind. And not so different from her.

— Did you know that Kuromi and My Melody used to be enemies? But now they're like... kinda friends, — Emily commented whispering, not wanting to interrupt you.

Gabriella nodded sheepishly.

— My dad brought it for me at Miniso, — Gabriella answered whispering too.

— My sister got mine from Miniso too, — said Emily, visibly proud.

After finishing an ice-breaking activity in which the children shared memories, experiences and thoughts that you planned, the bell rang, announcing the first recess.

Emily showed Gabriella the school playground, a large and lively space with grass, different games, walls full of colors, and school motifs. In the center, a small soccer field.

Gabriella's eyes lit up when she saw several boys and girls running after a ball.

— Do you like soccer?

Gabriella nodded enthusiastically.

— Yes, I love it. I used to play it with the kids in my neighborhood and also at aschool back in Mexico. How about you?

The girl with braids smiled.

— Not much, — she admitted with a giggle. — I prefer drawing. Although... the ones here are kinda of annoying.

— Annoying? Why?

— They say it's not a sport for weak girls, — Emily answered, lowering her voice. — But I try not to listen to them...

Her tone was unsure, almost like a whisper.

They both sat under the shade of a tree, enjoying the warm morning sun. They talked about simple things, tastes, small curiosities. Despite being somewhat quiet and withdrawn, they understood each other very well, as if they were lifelong friends.

But that quiet morning would not last long… Soon, dark clouds would approach to interrupt the calm.

Miguel had started his first day at work perfectly. Thanks to his background in chemistry and genetics, he only needed to receive his schedule, get to know his tasks and familiarize himself with part of the structure of the imposing building.

Everything was going perfect, until...

— Miguel?

His eyes, with their characteristic reddish hue, turned away from the computer screen when he heard his name. The receptionist of the apartment was in front of him. According to his colleague Olivia, her name was Lyla. She was a young woman with a bob hairdo and heart-shaped glasses. A bit eccentric, yes, but with an undeniable friendliness.

— Yes, Lyla?

— You have a phone call. It seems to be about your daughter... Gabriella O'Hara.

Confused, Miguel took off his glasses and set them with some haste on the desk. He got up and walked over to where Lyla was.

What had happened? Had she had a problem?

Had her nerves betrayed her? Or had she simply forgotten something?

But that anticipatory uneasiness would not compare to what he was about to feel...

— And why did you move in with your dad?

The questions kept flowing between the girls as the shared an apple cut in two.

— Well... Some people offered him a better job. He said that where we lived, we couldn't really be happy. I don't know exactly what he meant.

Emily nodded softly before taking a small bite of her half. Gabriella was sitting cross-legged on the ground, while Emily hugged her knees, settling in next to her.

— What about your mom?

The question brought Gabriella to silence. She wasn't sure she wanted to answer it...

— I don't know her,— she finally said softly. — It's just me and my dad.

Emily nodded again. Even though they were little, they could both recognize what hurt, even without many words.

The braided girl was about to ask another question when something, or rather someone, blocked the sunlight. In front of them appeared a group of four boys, older than them by a grade or two. The one leading had brown hair and was surprisingly tall for his age. Next to him were a boy with glasses, another with tousled hair, and a long-haired blond girl who looked on with disdain.

— Look at this... looks like the weirdo already got a friend, — sneered the tallest one, his tone clearly provocative.

The other three burst out laughing. Gabriella and Emily were silent, hoping that, if they didn't pay attetion to them, they would get tired and leave.

But they didn't...

— I'm Daniel, Alex's older brother, — said the brown-haired boy. — He told me there's a new girl in his class. A spic.

Gabriella didn't answer. Neither did Emily.

— What's the matter, don't you speak English? Or do you need a dictionary, alien? — the blonde interjected, making the others laugh louder.

— You think it's funny to have to share school with someone like you?

Gabriella stood up with a straight face, holding out her hand to Emily. She just wanted to leave. But before they could walk away, the blonde stepped forward and blocked their path, cornering them against the tree.

— Where are you freaks going?

— Leave us alone! Emily exclaimed in a trembling yet determined voice.

The group froze for a moment, surprised that it was Emily who was speaking. The blonde, without saying a word, pushed Emily, making her stagger a little.

— What's the matter? Are you gonna cry like you always do? — laughed the boy with glasses.

— Are you gonna cry for your mommy, weirdo?

— She wants to cry! She wants to cry! — they all chanted.

Emily squeezed her eyes shut. The tears came fast, filling her face with pent-up sadness. Gabriella felt something inside her explode. A deep, hot rage she had never felt before.

— Don't touch her again! — she shouted loudly, and without thinking, she pushed Daniel with both hands, who fell sitting on the floor, completely stunned.

The world seemed to freeze.

— Are you crazy? — he exclaimed from the floor, red with shame and anger.

Gabriella didn't back down. She was trembling but not out of fear. Something exploded within her, like a deep willingness to protect Emily.

— Don't touch her! — she said angrily.

The blonde took a step forward but stopped when she heard a firm voice shout from the playground: your voice.

— You stop! Right now! Miss Veronica, miss Gabriella!

It was you, walking hurriedly. This time, with a serious expression.

— This is unacceptable! Everyone to the principal's office right now! — you ordered, looking at each of them sternly. Then, your eyes fell on Gabriella and Emily. — Are you alright?

Emily sniffed and nodded. However, Gabriella only looked at the ground...

— I'm afraid you're coming with me... — you said a little softer, without leaving your serious tone.

Gabriella swallowed, feeling her heart beating hard. But trying to comfort her, she took Emily's hand. Then, both girls followed you to the principal's office.

Thank you very much for reading this far😭✨️

Any comments or feedback with respect will be welcome ❤️

[teamsasukes]

Was Itachi's forehead poke to Sasuke a sign of distancing himself and not wanting Sasuke to get involved, rather than just a mere sign of affection? I saw a few people talk about that and how it's weird that Sasuke does that to his family considering the original meaning.

yes, you've got an accurate handle on the original meaning of the Forehead Poke. fundamentally it is an expression of distance that itachi wields at times when he cannot be with sasuke. and it seems to be a throughline of his childhood: sasuke asks itachi to do something as mundane as train together but itachi continually refuses on account of his duties as a shinobi.

it is not a gesture devoid of love -- it's not as though itachi ever delights in dismissing sasuke (on the contrary, he is always regretful). but there's a cruelty in the uncertainty of it all: the most direct translation is "maybe next time", so itachi fails to provide even an assurance that they can, like, hang out next week or something. this chasm between them is then widened by itachi promising, on the night of the massacre, that he might allow a final battle between them if sasuke ever proves competent enough to bother fighting, leaving sasuke in protracted pursuit of the looming specter of his older brother.

this distance is really only bridged (barely) in their final scene when itachi lays bare the truth of his motives, his regrets (which are lacking, to put it mildly, but for sasuke this is nonetheless momentous), and his unconditional pride in and love for his little brother. the Forehead Poke is notably absent here because textually, the enforced distance wrt sasuke is framed as itachi's greatest wrong. (seriously, itachi says something to the effect of: i shouldn't have done All That because maybe you, my 7-year-old brother, could have brought change to our clan... thereby reducing inconvenience for konoha, of course. the paucity of virtue in massacring the uchiha doesn't really register for him even during this reconciliation, and it's deliberate... because the author doesn't see it as much of an issue either!)

anyway, it might seem odd for sasuke to repeat this gesture with sakura in chapter 699, then, particularly because it seems to be invoked in a manner identical to itachi in his neglect. kind of an odd way to signify a happy ending for these characters, right...?

well, it works for me solely because it is not identical! and naruto's english dub is my worst enemy. i would grab a couple of manga panel screenshots in the original japanese to prove it, but it's easier for me to just plug these scenes from the anime. here is an itachi Forehead Poke (0:51) and here is sakura seeing sasuke off at the konoha gate (0:33). there's a subtle but meaningful distinction in the phrasing: "mata kondo da" vs. "mata kondo na". which, in effect, alter the meaning from "maybe next time" to:

(there's an excellent tumblr post from years ago which performs a substantive analysis of the japanese in both contexts, but eludes me now. pls send if any of you have a link to it!)

so personally i adore its inclusion in chapter 699 specifically. it obviously carries a great deal of weight for sasuke and it's meaningful he chooses to express it to sakura specifically despite leaving the entire team behind -- in lots of ways, and more than any other character, i think for sasuke, sakura is the anti-itachi. (that would require another post to elucidate.) so not only is it an expression of regret at unintended distance, but, more crucially, it's a promise of return. i think it's incredibly sweet that sasuke can repurpose the gesture from something soul-rending to something hopeful.

(also deserving of another post lol but this scene also achieves a neat and, crucially, subversive callback to sakura's foundational insecurities... it's like poetry it rhymes)

all that said, i understand why it reads as something different once we are then given the context of chapter 700 and gaiden... i dislike both of these installments, primarily for the implication that distance becomes a love language, so to speak, between sasuke and sakura/sarada. these relationships are ruled by distance and sasuke accepts it. it's disappointing! his journey to learn about more of the world in chapter 699 jibed with the character's arc until that point. this does not.

my unpopular take is i think this has just about nothing to do with sakura or the sasusaku relationship and everything to do with authorial outlook on sasuke's actions in part 2. and for the record, i maintain that these crimes ultimately amount to very little -- violence and death are occupational hazards if one is a shinobi. konoha is also foregrounded by a cold calculus on the worth of human lives; i'm sure sasuke's indispensable role in saving the world outweighs the killing of a few samurai. i just think kishimoto needs sasuke to atone, somehow, forever, via endless service to the village. and he also cannot sensibly write a kakashi- or naruto-headed government that would impose any meaningful punishment, so sasuke is relegated to a state of permanent rootlessness in some dumbass quest. it's a sacrifice on his part, but contrived for a number of reasons, chief among them being that the sasuke we came to know in the original series would literally never internalize konoha's ideals in this manner. so even though the Forehead Poke in gaiden and boruto retains the elements of promise and anticipation of eventual reconciliation, it feels kind of... lame and weightless. there is a superficial signal at growth but materially, for the parties on the receiving end of the Forehead Poke, very little seems to change.

frankly, i think we are meant to view sasuke's love as noble (and sasuke himself as penitent, suggested by the ascetic quality of his life). sasuke is still doing things differently than itachi, insufficient though it may be: he is honest about the reason for his travels, he does not rush to dismiss sarada when she needs emotional support, his motives are selfless rather than selfish (sasuke guards against the threat of the otsutsuki; itachi... wanted sasuke to kill him, in no small part as a desperate ploy to end his own suffering, notwithstanding the subsequent damage that would be inflicted on his thoroughly traumatized little brother). gaiden is surprisingly candid about the distance as a source of distress for sarada, sakura, and even sasuke, but by the end everyone understands why it must be as it is. the state above all! (you'll notice even itachi's apology to sasuke held this precept intact... there is a reason the series closes with sasuke accepting his old hitai-ate.) it is admittedly vexing, considering the totality of evidence here, to see sasuke's nomadic status in boruto pinned on how much he hates his dumb bitch wife and not, you know. the shockingly bad politics underpinning the narrative.

i appreciate the attempts of sasuke enjoyers to explain his distance as natural aversion to konoha, but this isn't canonically backed by any interiority (which seems to be absent in boruto-era team 7 at large) and moreover it requires miscommunication between sasuke and sakura (or even naruto) so great as to be unbelievable. i've accepted that post-pt2 sasuke is an unfortunate victim of kishomoto's nationalist views. his weird takes on how a man like sasuke would behave in a loving relationship and likely desire for a continued revenue stream don't help either. yes i will weep forever...

TLDR: i think the Forehead Poke fits in chapter 699 precisely because it diverges from itachi's. i resent its recurrence suggesting distance from loved ones is an inevitable condition of sasuke's life to which he's stoically acquiescent.

[dreamwithmichis]

Photos (Chnn x F!reader)

Synopsis: You asked your best friend Chan for a favor but it wasn't free

Warning: Praise kink, No protection (but Chan cums on her stomach) dirty talk, pet names like baby, honey. slut once, spanking, oral sex (F!), start of fwb(?, (Maybe I'm forgetting something)

Author's notes: I want to practice english because it's not my first language, if I write anything wrong let me know so I can improve 🤍 thanks

Masterlist

For a few months now some idiot from your university has been stalking your IG profile. You don't want to block him because you don't have enough reasons, so far he just checks your stories as soon as you upload them and likes your posts.

You talked about this with your best friend, Chan. He understands but advises you to not put pressure on yourself and just ignore it unless something actually serious happens. It's a very Chan response. Your libra friend has some trouble confronting sometimes, unlike you, acting hotheaded as you tend to be more impulsive.

Come on, opposites complement each other!

One afternoon you posted a story about your coffee while you were with Chan, the guy from college was still looking at your photos 5 minutes after you posted them.

"Can you put down your phone? I'm starting to think I'm boring you." You know your friend isn't really offended, he just likes to act a bit dramatic sometimes. It's endearing.

"When you're glued to the screen for work or looking at tiktoks I don't say anything to you"

"You little liar, you do."

You leave your phone on the table and concentrate on whatever Chan is talking about. After about 20 minutes, he goes back into his monologue about his job until you both get distracted by the glow of your phone screen.

You could read in the notifications the name of your classmate liking your cappuccino stories.

"It seems like he is... Insistent doesn't it?"

"I'm about to freak out but I think blocking him and then seeing him back in class is going to be really awkward." You raised your hands to your head, a little distressed about the scenario you just created in your mind. "It's awkward because you make it awkward"

You were about to argue until an idea crossed your mind. "What if I make him uncomfortable?" "What?" He looked confused, a expression that prompted me to elaborate

"I want to make him uncomfortable so he won't talk to me or stalk me"

"And how do you plan to do it, silly?"

You smiled sweetly as your hands cradle the side of your head and stared innocently at Chan. "You know you scare me when you don't blink?"

"Chan... Channie... Chris"

"What do you want?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Nothing bad, just a small favor. Insignificant really."

"Why don't I believe you?" He knew you too well. You chuckle, it was really entertaining to see him like this. "Because you are mean to me, you didn't even let me fully elaborate on what I was gonna ask you!"

"I already know it's probably stupid, but hey, ask away."

"Can you take pictures with me pretending to be my boyfriend?"

Your friend laughs before taking a sip of his coffee. “I knew it was going to be something stupid.”

"Put your arm around my shoulder, do it naturally!"

"Why the hell did I agree to this?"

"Because you love me" I look at him through the mirror with an innocent smile

"Nah, I don't think that's it" He wrinkles his nose as he scoffs. Stupid. "I will charge you for this favor"

I ignore everything he says and keep taking photos. After about 7 takes you were satisfied... Or so you thought until you saw Chan lying on the couch and the gears in your head started moving again.

"Take off your shirt, now."

"What? A coffee first, don't you think?" He laughs as he obeys and takes off his shirt revealing his toned torso, puts his hands behind your head and lies back down. "You know? I think I know you well enough that I can tell what your next move is."

You climb onto his abdomen and take photos while putting one hand on his abs and pretending to scratch them.

"I'd be worried if you couldn't meet me after all these years, Channie..." You scoff a little after taking the last photo and showing the screen to Chan. "look!"

He stares at the screen in silence for a few seconds as he holds you by your thighs while you are still sitting on top of his hips. "I like them... Was that the last photo?" He murmurs in a tone that you can't decipher but that sends a slight current down your spine. "Mhm, yes. Why?"

"Then I'm going to charge you for doing this" Before you could think, Chan had grabbed your thighs and flipped you over so that your back was lying on the couch and he was on top of you, positioned between your legs. "I was going to ask you for a normal favor in return but after seeing you so comfortable on top of me I decided I want something else."

"Wait, what?" His smile grew bigger as he caressed the outside of your thighs and his hands began to travel north until they settled on your hips. "What you heard babe, you're sexy when you're on top of me... But you can be sexier down there, right?"

"C'mon... Let me collect my favor, I assure you that you will love it" Your breath hitched as you felt his lips on your neck, kissing your skin slowly. His hands gently squeezed your hips as he trailed kisses to your mouth. "Your skin tastes like honey, What will your lips taste like?"

"Try them" you tease in a mischievous tone. You're not going to waste this opportunity. Chan is your friend and you don't believe there's love there but you're not blind. Chan has sex appeal... And lots of it.

Your tease works as Chan moves closer to take your lips in a needy kiss. His hands slip under your shirt and up to your breasts.

"No bra? Dirty girl" he teases as he breaks away from the kiss and plays with your nipples between his fingers. You don't stay behind and unbuckle his belt and pants. "Shut up"

They both take off each other's clothes and throw them on the floor while the kisses and touching become more intense. The smacking sounds of Chan's lips moving down your stomach fill the room. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he blows his hot breath on your core. "baby look at this" He rubs his thumb across your folds and makes slow circles on your clit. "Fuck- How can you get me so wet, honey?"

You tried to stifle moans by biting your index finger. "Shut up" "Do you want me to shut up? Fine" Chan's mischievous smile didn't last long in your sight as he was quick to sink his mouth into your wet core. He ate you like licking you was the cure for his hunger. Your orgasm built and came to you as he gave your clit his attention again making you cum as you looked at some strands of his hair and he held your hips with his hands to keep eating you until you are clean.

Before you knew it, he was on top of you again, pressing himself against you with a dark look on his face, like an animal that has already hunted its prey. "Don't think I'm done with you yet, but I want to know if you want it too"

"Damn, yeah" The answer came out of your mouth automatically, without thinking. But who needs to think when you can just focus on him?

"You're so needy" in a normal situation you would stay with your friend making fun of you. But you can't come up with a clever retort when the head of his cock slowly sinks into your pussy and then pulls out leaving you wanting more. "Please" "Just because you asked nicely baby"

"Mhm yes" Your pussy gladly welcomes Chan's cock. He's buried to the hilt and it feels amazing but it's nothing compared to when he starts with slow but hard thrusts.It doesn't take long for both of them to want more and Chan doesn't hold back with his next thrusts. "You squeeze me so good, so good baby. This pussy is perfect for me, don't you think? Would you let me use it often?" You nod as you hook your feet together on his hips, your mind clouding with pleasure. "Look at you, you can't think and take a cock at the same time?" You can't give a verbal response as his thrusts build another orgasm for you.

"I want to hear your words" Chan demands as he takes one of your tits in his hand and squeezes it. "I... I can't... I'm close" "My slut can't talk?". His name barely slips from your lips when he lets go of your breast and slaps it before doing the same to your other breast.

Your orgasm washes over you quickly as your pussy and breasts are stimulated by your friend, not to mention the dirty words that ignite something inside you when he says them. Before Chan cums he pulls out of you and uses his hand to pump himself and cum on your abdomen leaving white stripes on your skin.

They both smile as they catch their breaths. "Are you satisfied with your favor now?" "Absolutely darling, so let me know when you want more photos. You know my price."

[gihunloversunite]

Hey OP no hate just thought I should defend this random twitter user since they might not have tumblr.

You are correct that Inho is trying to gain gihuns trust, but this post has nothing to do with gihun except for the fact that he’s in it and Inho is defending him.

“This is one of those times that revealed (the) real Inho which is so interesting to me because you don’t see him in youngil often.” We meet Inho in season 1, very serious guy, does not crack a smile till the end basically when he was in the limo with gihun, and even then it’s just a small smirk. He is also seen as scary as well.

We meet youngil season 2 and he projects this normal kinda upbeat guy. We know this isn’t the real Inho as youngil is kind of his opposite(from the small bits of his character that we get from season 1)

“It either comes out as a smirk or protective nature”

Youngil stay smirking bro… or looking out for junhee(protective nature) and sometimes the rest of his team. I think twitter OP could’ve done without this because it kinda confuses from the main sentence. Or use a –

Now back to the main part. The scenes they describe in order is 1. Thanos and Youngil fight 2. This scene where player 100 is getting mad at gihun and youngil stops him 3. Youngil “saves” jungbae. (Twitter op is referring to the mingle 2 room. We as viewers know that youngil is inho and wouldn’t have died during that round, but jungbae did not know that and I don’t think youngil wanted to blow his cover. He had special plans for jungbae later 😏) during the fight with thanos we see inho in the way he looks at Thanos(with his sinister eyes). In the scene in the photo above we see inho again, looking so scary that even player 100 visibly jumps back. During the mingle scene he looked SOOO SCARY I understand why jungbae was scared I would’ve been scared too. These are all moments where Inho’s real self shines through in youngil. Which is what twitter op was trying to get at.

everyone is entitled to their own opinion but I genuinely don't understand these interpretations of inho character. It's so CLEAR that he just wanted to gain gihun's trust here. People should seriously stop watching this series with shipping lens and giving too much credit to inho...

[skywalkoverme]

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫: One Shot

SPOILERS FOR EP 3!

𐙚 Anakin Skywalker x Fem! Reader 𐙚 18+ MDNI

Summary: Forced to fight your master.

Warnings/contains: breath play, dom! male, sub! fem, master/padawan, forced submission, finger fucking, choking, hair pulling, not proof read-- english is not my first language!

a/n: Warning for breath play again!!!

Word Count: 1.9k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

*Debriefing at the Jedi Temple.*

Anakin arrived late. He stood at the entrance of the door, his arms folded. When you spotted him, you quickly ran to his side. “Haven’t seen you all day. Where ya been at?” You asked quietly as the Masters spoke.

He didn’t bother looking down at you. “Is that important?”

You quickly shook your head. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Go back inside the room, [Y/n].”

You quickly snapped your head towards him. He rarely called you by your name, it was either your nickname or something sweet like it. Although you wanted to stay beside him, something pulled you back towards the center of the room. From beside Obi-wan, you snuck glances at Anakin; However, it was hard to read his expression due to the shadow that hid his face. But you could feel it— his gaze as it ran over each of the masters, their padawans…and you. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as his focus narrowed.

The meeting soon concluded and in a blink of an eye, Anakin was gone again. “Somethings wrong, Master.” You whisper to Obi-wan.

“I know.”

“…what’s gonna happen? I need to know.” Obi-wan folded his arms, reading your expression. You were far too emotional to hear the truths they were discovering about the chancellor and your Master, Anakin Skywalker. “Don’t leave me out.”

“It’s not my decision.” You swallowed your spit. “Think before you speak.” Before you could say anything back, he pointed to the door. “Take a walk, get some rest.”

You pushed open the doors to the courtyard and stormed out of the building. How dare they?! ‘Obviously, Master is going through something!’ You thought as you stomped on twigs and dried leaves. How dare they not tell you? Never have you felt so left out, confused…hurt. You sat under the gazebo, holding your cheeks, your knees below your head.

That night in bed, you left all the doors open, as well as the windows. You lay on your back; gentle exhales left your lips as the night turned over into the wee hours of the morning. The white sheets stuck to your skin as you tossed in your bed, asleep yet bothered. Your fingers sunk through your hair and to your scalp.

You could hear a heartbeat; it sounded like a rhythmic warning, a soulless chant.

“Stop!” You quickly ignited your lightsaber, holding it over your head to block your master’s strike. Your heart pounded louder as he pushed down harder. His eyes dead from beneath the shadow of his cloak. “Master!” He drew back before striking again. You pushed yourself off the bed. His saber came down on your bed, cutting through the layers of cotton and springs. You didn’t have time to process how much strength he must have put into the strikes. “Anakin! Stop!” A whimper left your lips. “What are you doing?! Master!”

“Be still.” He commanded.

“What are you doing?!” He raised his lightsaber to you once more, quickly cornering you before bashing down in quick succession to tire you. Cutting through the dark room, the green and blue sabers gave you quick glances at his face. With every defensive maneuver, you found yourself closer to the ground. “Anakin! Please!” You screamed, looking for the nearest exit. From the corner of your eye, you spotted your second lightsaber. “Why are you doing this?” You ask softer as he pressed down onto your blade.

“I need to.”

“No, no, you don’t!” Your right fist knocked him in the cheek, pulling his hood off. Anakin took a moment to clench his jaw. Across the room, you snatched your second saber from your sheets. “Anakin, I don’t know what’s happened to you but trust me. Please? I can help!”

“I- I’ve already…done too much. I will not be forgiven.”

You quickly shook your head. “I forgive you. Just please: don’t fight me.” He slowly stepped to you. “Anakin.” When he ignited his saber again, you moved back and did the same. “What did you come here to do?” You asked, more heartbroken than you even realized.

“Jedi are so close minded…you are weak and need to be exterminated.”

“What are you saying? You’re a Jedi! You’re my Master! Anakin Skywalker.”

He shook his head and drew his hood back over his brown curls. “You are lost.” Your eyebrows furrowed as he traded his lightsaber to the other hand. Without much struggle, he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “Drop them.” He held the saber to your neck and brought you to your knees. Sweat ran down your forehead, bosom and hands. He tucked the hilts of your sabers on his belt. “If you try to do something slick, I will kill you. If you try to run, I’ll kill you.” You nodded; your brown eyes glared up at him. Your fists balled in frustration, and confusion, but you looked helpless. “You look furious.” Blue light from his weapon shone on your skin, slightly purple. “…it suits you.”

“You’re the chosen one. How could you?!”

“You misunderstand.” He kneeled beside you, his body pressed against yours; Anakin’s fingers were buried in your hair, pulling back so you could look him in the eye. “I am going to restore peace. The Jedi way has failed you as well as the republic.” You shook your head. “You aren’t my padawan any longer, but I’ll give you a tip.” You listened when he pulled tighter, his saber nearly against your skin. You could feel the heat of his saber and his body completely envelop you. “If someone has your life in their hands, be a good girl.” You exhaled sharply, looking up into his eyes. Anakin bit his lip, taking a few shameless glances at your physique. He slowly pressed his lightsaber against your skin.

“A- AHH!” He left a burn line on your skin.

“Breathe. It’s just a mark.” Huffs left your lips as you reached for your neck. “Aht! No.” His grip on your hair was tight as he pulled you back. Once more, the lightsaber went close to your skin. Your eyes shifted to his hand, scarred and tightly around the hilt; his blue veins shifted with the pure anger that coursed through him.

“Don’t kill me.” Your voice was a whisper; those pleading, beautiful eyes of yours refused to leave his alone.

“That is not how the Sith work. I ‘must’ kill you.” He said with a chuckle. With a quickness, you snatched your saber from his belt.

Anakin gripped the front of your throat, your back against his chest. “S- I can’t-” You gasped for air, and he loosened his grip—slightly.

In your two hands, you gripped the hilt. “You aren’t going to hurt me.” With every exhale, your head grew light, your vision blurred. “Don’t pass out just yet.” His grip alternated between tense and soft, “There you go~” The sweat from your pores ran down your forehead, back and arms. Anakin’s head pressed against yours, his warm breath on your temple. With every release he gave you, you took in as much oxygen as you could which didn’t help. If anything, it made your vision blurrier. “Tell me to stop.” His lips grazed your face. “Say it.” A pathetic moan left your lips as you fought the high. Your lightsaber began to slip from your grip, the tip burned into the rug beneath you. “You couldn’t kill me if you tried, weakling. Isn’t that right?” Strained from his grip, you nodded.

Hair stuck to your skin, wet with sweat and frizzy from the humidity. Anakin glared to his left; your room’s mirror reflected your weakness. You hadn’t noticed your feet that dangled above the ground or the saber you once held, now on the rug. “Look at how far you’ve come.” His every word filled your mind; each syllable bounced off the walls of your conscience. “Don’t you dare give up, [Y/n].” The curve of your ass pressed on his belt; your hands reached for his. From your sleep shorts, you could feel your heat rise to the pit of your stomach. Quickly, you pressed your thighs together.

You’ve known for years that violence made him hard. On the trips back to Coruscant, you could see his bulge from under his robes after a battle. As the years went on, he would put less effort into hiding it.

Your struggled moans fueled his arousal, the feel of your heartbeat under his flesh; as it slowed, he groaned helplessly. Again, he started the cycle: letting you get a couple of breaths before grabbing your throat tightly. “I haven’t…had to chance to play with one of your kind in a long time.” A confused whimper left your lips. “From your system, Idiot. Staying professional all these years… ‘Padawan, this’. ‘Padawan, that’.” His nose dragged up your neck, into your hair. “Don’t act innocent. I know what you write in that little journal.” He nodded towards your bedside. “I’m a hot topic.”

Anakin released you, letting you fall onto the ground. He kicked your fallen saber out to the balcony where you couldn’t reach. You held your throat, forcing yourself to cough. When he turned his back to you, you pushed yourself towards the door. “Where are you goin’?” Once again in his grip, he pushed you up against the wall. Now in both his hands, you faced him.

“P- please, Master. Just leave me.”

Anakin shook his head. “Seems you don’t want me to.” Your legs wrapped around his hips. “Your sweat…smells like fear. In all its forms.” He took a long glance at your now exposed pussy from the side of your shorts.

Your hands pushed at his face, covered his eyes. His fleshy digits ran up and down your slit. “Oh? Where’s your protest?” His fingers teased your throbbing clitoris. “I asked you a question.”

“I- I won’t fight you.”

“Because this is what you want?” You didn’t answer and Anakin pressed the front of your throat with his metal hand. “You were so vocal earlier.” He shook his head, leaning in close to you. Your noses touched as his fingers slowly pressed into you.

Such tense blue eyes glared at you, admiring the way your breasts moved with each body roll, judging your gasps--- “I- I’m tired.” You whimpered. “You just tried to kill me! Y- you’re insane!”

“Do you really think I’m insane?” He asked as he read your lewd expression.

“You don’t care what I think.” You struggled out.

He does. “I don’t. You’re right.” He licked his messy fingers before pushing them back inside of you.

A/n: Hope you enjoyed! Mwah <3 I think I'll stick to lace dividers! They're so cute!

Word Count: 1.9k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

[brummelliana]

Tbh it’s so refreshing seeing someone else who doesn’t idolise Linda McCartney because people get vexed if you don’t idolise her. I have a hot take,if you hate yoko Ono for “ruining the band/separating John from the band” keep that view for Linda aswell like they didn’t ruin the Beatles the Beatles did. Also I read somewhere how she would hate on Jane Asher and she made her cook book out of spite and made Paul cut off people connected to Jane Asher. (Sorry if i write rlly shit I failed English x)

Yes, thank you.

I never claimed to be special for having this opinion, like that other person claimed. I've been in online Beatle spaces since 2020, and I've genuinely hardly, if ever, seen anyone critizise her.

Maybe its because she's dead, or because of the way their relationship is portrayed now, or they genuinely like her, which is well within their right. I just wonder if it's a trend, because I've seen a lot more ship art and hype recently compared to previous years.

That is exactly why I wanted to say something, I feel like the only one who doesn't absolutely adore her, it'll make you feel insane. I believe its my blog, and I should be able to share my opinions without it coming off like a personal attack to someone who likes her.

Its true that she was very possesive over Paul.... buttt thats something I have trouble counting against her. It was Paul. If it were me I'd be borderline abusive with how hard I'd be possesive. Even if he was whipped it was no secret he was a whore for a literal decade.

Its paraphrased, but I remember they were gifted, or Jane's book made it into their house, and she got so mad. She threw it out.

I could be off on the details because of memory, but she was cold to who I think was Denny Laine's wife during the tour? Jojo (JOJO KIMI NO BOUKEN JOJO SONO CHINO SADAME JOOOJOOOOO) had history with Paul, so she did not fuck with her. She wasn't a girl's girl.

The funny thing is I read in a biography that between the two of them, she was the one with the wandering eye. Like girl, it doesn't get better than this, just stick with Paul.

The weed thing was also pretty out of hand. Like she put weed in her child's diaper to try and sneak it into Japan, and frequently would just drive the car of children while stoned.

When they were gifted a copy of "The Love You Make" the biography from the 70s, they burned the book in the backyard without reading it because they assumed it was slander. (Idk, I thought they were pretty fair to Paul in that).

But more than specific instances, its the whole attitude. That she didn't shave, or wore horse boots instead of high heels. She was down to earth and connected to nature instead of the other vapid rich girls she knew. I feel like that's more or a misogynistic viewpoint than anything I've said. That and the insistence that they were just an average standard income family just like you. (They weren't).

There was another instance where their housekeeper, Rose, was led to believe she was attending a day out at the zoo with the family. She got all dressed in her Sunday best, but when she came out to the car, it was her to say like "nooo! What are you doing??! You're not coming! I have work for you to do!!" so Rose spend the day sewing up holes in children's clothes instead. (Again, paraphrased from a biography). There's the argument to be made that yeah, Rose was the help, its her job to do that stuff. But idk, its still a bummer.

Really edgy for her to have a miniature horse in the city of London. I wonder who was cleaning the massive shits it took while she took it on walks. (actually, if anyone has a source that she was the one doing it, I'd respect that fr. Keep britain tidy).  A really good way to poke a hole in any argument I make is that Paul is involved in my critisms, or that Paul is literally worse.

All I can say is that I can no longer be rational or objective about Paul. Over the years I have grappled with all of his horrible traits and actions, and living like that is a net negative. It makes no difference in the world whether I let those thoughts consume me, or whether I am completely unserious and milk enjoyment from him all I can. He's a beautiful muse, silly, cheeky, and his music is okay sometimes too. (At least he's done things to stand on his own, you know. There's a reason he's famous). I think more people would be happier if they lived like me.

It annoys me when she's treated like a goddess and people make comments about Paul being useless and ugly and lesser than her.

This might be a contriversal thing to say also, not to woobify him, but I genuinely believe Paul was really impressionable and immature, and whoever was dating him had a certain amount of influence over his behavior. Not entirely, mind you, but a certain amount. He would act like the big male head of family, and believe himself to be, but deep down he needed a mommywife to tell him what to do. Girl power or whatever.

[lilia-arts]

🐺Werewolf pal.🐺

Part 2 .

( Not a ship !!!!! Everything here is platonic/friendship. ; English is not my first language. ).

Here's part 1 .

"Pal?"

The wolf whined and lowered his ears, looking at Doey with a guilty expression.

"You... You..."

The employee expected the worst from the experiment, but suddenly Doey smiled widely.

"You are a giant puppy!"

He then easily picked up the employee in his arms, as if they weighed nothing.

This caught the employee off guard.

"You're so fluffy and cute!" he said and began to pet the employee.

The employee wanted to resist at first, but relaxed.

The sensation was surprisingly pleasant.

Doey put the employee on the ground.

"Uhh , sorry," Doey said.

"Are you okay? How did this happen?" he asked worriedly.

The wolf only let out a few barks.

"Oh... You can't talk."

The wolf whined.

"It's okay, we'll figure something out, I guess..." Doey said hesitantly.

The employee just lowered their head.

"I think you should go back to the safe heaven until you're back to normal," Doey said.

"You shouldn't be wandering around the factory like this."

"Who knows what that , bad person, will do to you," Doey added angrily.

This scared the employee a little.

"I hope I can convince the others not to be afraid of you," he said.

"Let's go."

The employee was very doubtful that he would be able to convince the toys not to be afraid of them, but he followed him.

As expected, they were scared.

As soon as the employee entered the safe place , all the toys started screaming and running away in different directions, even Kissy wanted to attack, but Poppy stopped her in time, Doey miraculously managed to calm everyone down and assure them that the employee was not dangerous.

And now the employee is lying on the floor, and the residents of Safe Haven are huddled together and do not take their eyes off the wolf.

Doey stood and tried to find the words.

"As you can see, our friend... has an unusual situation... " said Doey, the toys only looked at him and then back at the wolf.

An awkward silence hung.

"Well... Um... I need to look for parts for the generator." Doey said.

Some of the toys ran up to him and took his hand.

"Don't leave us with them!" said one of them.

"I already said that they will not cause harm," said Doey.

"You won't hurt them, will you?" Doey asked sternly.

The employee nodded their head several times.

"Great!" Doey said.

"Now I'll go, I'll try to come back as soon as possible."

And he left.

The employee continued to lie on the floor, and the toys were still looking at them.

Then one of them, Kicken, decided to take a step.

The employee didn't move.

Kicken took another step.

The employee still didn't move.

Realizing that they were not dangerous, the toys went their separate ways and went about their business, occasionally glancing at the wolf.

The employee curled up and tried to sleep.

Then he heard light footsteps and raised their head.

Dogday stood next to him, his black eyes looking at them .

Then he took a step, then another .

Then he came close to the employee, and lay down next to them.

The employee was surprised.

Then Bubba began to approach him.

"Michael, what are you doing?" asked another Dogday.

"Come back here," said Hoppy.

"They let Trevor come closer and didn't tear him apart, so they are not a threat , I guess " said Michael and lay down next to Trevor.

Then mini Kissy came to them.

Then Hoppy.

The employee had already fallen asleep at this time.

Poppy came out of the room with the generator and saw a cute picture in front of her.

"Awww," she said.

The employee looked up at the sound.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Poppy said.

"I guess I better get back to generator room".

She was about to go when she felt someone grab her by the collar of her dress and lift her off the ground.

She squealed.

Until she was back on the ground, next to the sleeping toys, whereupon the employee curled up around to them and fall asleep again .

NSFW ; proship dni .

Read the rest on my pinned post.

[apolloarting]

putting my brain worms in your drinking water, in the hopes it will make you add john of Liechtenstein to your pirate au.

(maybe as Samuels matee? 👉🏻👈🏻, but I won't force my ship upon you)

https://youtu.be/Eh54TQsXQ4M?si=bFtrKstul2C1VreR

Can you See my Vision?

Chat i love OFMD so much 😩 and yeah of course I'll do Liechtenstein. I also took some light inspiration from Lucius (as well as Josephine from DAI LMAO). Honestly when people suggest things and request stuff I have more incentive to do it lmao (please chat i nearly ditched this au and then two ideas popped up😭😩)

Anyways here are some HCs

-He isn't actually a pirate

- he's working as a spy for the dutch and English against the Spanish

- He specifically works for Jobst who i probably will hc as an english governor or Commodore.

- I think compared to Jobst (who is a self serving ass) he's so much more compassionate towards others

- he particularly found a genuine affinity for aiding the jewish people in cuba

- this isn't just for some political gain but out of kindness.

- facies himself more as a diplomat than a spy however

- He can read and write pretty well and whenever he's on ships he's often forced to record and take notes.

- I particularly think that Jobst forces him to do many jobs he doesn't want to do that kinda go under Quarter master work

- Sam and Him are in a relationship. Mayhaps they are in the matelodge, though I still need to think how exactly that would go since I don't really see john as a pirate/privateer.

-Either way there is something going on between the two of them without a straight explanation

- I definitely believe that their relationship is much more complicated then Hansry as John doesn't really have that same sense of freedom as them as he never is a pirate.

-And yes i do ship them they are so cute (i don't really ship Liechtenstein x Jobst tho)

- I also need to draw more characters other than Hans (Man my biases show so much)

I don't have too many hc about John, I need to get to know hos character better to write more stuff down

[halfbaked00q]

Im soooo weak to when Bond is like casually being used or exploited at his expense for some ostensible Greater Good except the situation doesn't HAVE to come to that, not really, and he's so inured and even numb to it that he barely pays it any mind; meanwhile, Q absolutely minds and is very indignant on his behalf and works overtime to like either try to avert or forestall the situation before it gets to the point where Bond has to dig his own claws into more of his soft underbelly to offer up on the sacrificial alter of politics of all tawdry things, or to manufacture a way in which he does the needless "needful" so as to spare Bond at least one unnecessary additional wound upon his psyche.

bonus if Bond finds out and maybe after being angry or indignant about it - I don't need you to do my job for me, Q, this is what I'm here to do - and either Q tells him/lets slip or he deduces that like, this isn't Q thinking he can't get the job done, this is Q finding him precious and worthy of protecting, and like. he's just very in awe of that and does in fact feel very safe and cherished within the cradle of his Quartermaster's regard

[buttercupshands]

I've been thinking a lot lately

ref to the quote under the cut

under the cut for maybe some people that would like to try and guess *shruggs*

[jadelemonadee]

What r ur thoughts on people who twinkify samuel seabury…like when his only personality is being soft uwu boy who gets bullied by hamilton and king george is his protector!!1!1!1!

I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THIS I HATE IT SO MUCH

okay first of all I’ve said this before but i feel like the only reason people see him like this is because of “chaos and bloodshed is not a solution” which caused people to be like “omg he doesn’t like violence such innocent baby protect him 🥺🥺” WHEN HES A GROWN ASS MAN (45 - 47) AT THE TIME OF FARMER REFUTED ☹️ also about the king george thing there’s lots more to his character than just being a loyalist he was a priest / bishop fcs 😞 how about jesus being his protector!!!!! /j another thing about him is that i feel like people tried babying him to make him seem less of an antagonist maybe…??? like ive seen people say “poor sammy he was trying to express his opinion🥺” ok well we’re not rooting for his opinion in this musical ARE WE?? like idk maybe we should let antagonists be antagonists and be in the wrong 🤗 personally i dont agree with samuel’s opinions AT ALL but that doesn’t make him any less kissable in my eyes!!! can we let characters be pathetic without infantilizing them PLEASE i just see him as this annoying snooty man who sees the revolutionists as childish and immature / sees him + other loyalists as above these “barbaric patriots”. also i recall thayne sayinf something on the hamilcast podcast about seabury trying to “save everyone from the king” (i pray the king shows you his mercy) before its too late and i dont know how this aligns with what im saying but i think it tells us a bit more about him (at least thayne’s version) and i just find it a silly detail 😁 btw you guys im only talking about all this from the musical perspective and this has barely anything to do with actual history or the characters’ historical counterparts 🤗🤗🤗🌈🌈🌈🌸🌸🌸

[msburgundy]

my beef with ipa comes down to the fact that i simply do not like, conceptually, that there is a contrived writing system intended to capture every single sound in human language. i would much rather just mix scripts (like throwing a fully english word into a korean sentence and vice versa) i UNDERSTAND why we don't (thus i can forgive romanization etc [to a degree]) and i also understand why in academic contexts such a writing system is quite valuable.

in actual life, however, there is simply no need to represent all those sounds, and you're simply better off learning the native scripts of languages whose influence you encounter frequently