#i have probably misinterpreted the third one

[ninyard]

Kevin for the headcanon game!!

these have been in my inbox for a few days but I've been too busy with other stuff to sit down n write em so im sorry im only getting around to doing them now <33 also these are so stupid so take em with a pinch of salt but... yes

realistic headcanon: until he's rehabilitated from his injury, and able to use his left hand properly again, he refuses to handwrite things unless he absolutely has to. I think he has really nice handwriting with his left hand, but he got really self conscious of using his right hand because it looked like a toddlers handwriting. He got better at it the more he practiced, but it was still never as nice or legible as the writing he'd do with his left hand. If for any reason he had to write something down, he'd ask Andrew to do it or he'd type it out if he could

may not be realistic it is hilarious: he has a really weak stomach. like he even thinks about something gross and hes already gagging. he's particularly sensitive to smells tho. sometimes he'll wait to shower after games/practice just to make sure his teammates have showered before him because the smell of their BO after a particularly long and sweaty game makes him want to vomit. sometimes somebody will be cooking an Absolutely Normal and Seasoned Meal that he hasn't smelt/eaten before and he'll walk in with his hoodie over his nose like 'what the fuck is that smell' and they're all like ??? it's just fish ?????

heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends: kevin is not actually that much of a strict asshole when it comes to his diet. it LOOKS like he is, but he avoids sweets because he has awful self control and will binge on snacks until he gets sick if he starts. everyone thinks he's particular about his diet because of the ravens and yeah its true in a way but he was deprived of sweet things for so long that he has to keep himself away from them. we all know hes a bit of a disordered eating king and he's not unhealthy about it necessarily, but he has to keep himself away from snacks. because he WILL eat an entire pint of ice cream in one sitting if he lets himself. and then regret it terribly afterwards

unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own: he smokes cigarettes or vapes when hes drunk. im so sorry but he is simply the Type.

[spacedykez]

spiralling 🎉

[saturngas]

him getting hard at you yelling at him

[🪐] the kyoto exchange event is soon and your husband has been meeting up a lot with a coworker. you get a bit jealous, not aware that your husband may have a thing with that

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: a bit angsty at the beginning, suggestive, not really smut

warnings: established relationship; jealousy; possessiveness; boners; a bit of toxicity; idk if this is super canon but some scenarios are from the jjk game phantom parade;

word count: 2.9k

..

this is stupid right? you know your husband has a natural charm that is often misinterpreted as annoying and obnoxious. not everyone is prepared to receive all that satoru gojo has to offer, only a few people have dared to try to keep up with him, including yourself.

and you knew his coworkers weren't really... fond of him.

so why were you all of the sudden so bothered by him going out so much with his female coworker utahime?

the sister school exchange event was happening soon, in two weeks to be more precise. you were a former sorcerer yourself, though you weren't really involved in the education regarding the sorcery school; so this event was more of satoru's business, you were only required to be present during the group combat.

"sweet cheeks, im going out with nanami! just to discuss things about the exchange event." he had said one day. you wished him good luck with no negative thought in mind.

"baby, Nanami wasn't of much help, so now I have to go talk with utahime." he pouted. and you paid no mind. it was known to almost every breathing being that utahime wasn't confortable around satoru, even as going to telling him to leave her alone. that has being their relationship since satoru was in high school, him often disrespecting her authority and status as a sorcerer, and her just chastising him as his former senior.

so why were you so troubled if you knew this about them? well probably them going out three times this week stirred a nerve.

it's because the exchange event. you kept telling yourself, but you couldn't avoid the venomous feeling of jealousy. which was an actual insult to your relationship with satoru, who had never given you reasons to doubt him, on the contrary, he often showers you with infinite love and words of affirmation that only fulfill your love for him.

but hasn't utahime grow tired of him already? you questioned deeply. she was his number one despiser. being with satoru for only ten minutes aged her ten years. you were incredulous she was lasted so much around your husband. even if it was work-related.

it was a Friday. your husband visited his female coworker twice this week, this day being the third encounter. he hadn't told you where, though you were sure he would have told you if you were to ask him. but you didn't. it was your untouched pride that had stopped you from that. not wanting to make your jealousy public. you were certain of the endless teasing satoru would treat you with.

you were alone in your shared house. it was actually your day off. day you had planned to spend it with your silly spouse, before his phone buzzed and he announced his meeting with utahime. it would be a lie to say you weren't upset.

"take care, toru. and please come back soon." your farewell felt bittersweet, bitter to you, sweet to satoru. his obliviousness about the hurricane going inside your core was only contributing to your indignation.

as you turned on the tv in front of you, you tried brushing off the corrosive sensations that came within the recap of the events occurred this week. the remote seemed to have a mind of its own as you picked some random show absentmindedly, just something to cloud your head.

utahime was actually a nice and proper woman. she has always being respectful to you and only occasionally made discrete comments about your relationship with satoru, questioning amusingly how you put up with him. she was obviously no harm, even less to your husband.

perhaps it was your primal instincts that were responsible of your disapproval of them going out so much. you weren't exactly the jealous type. okay, maybe you were fussing too much over this situation.

the tv show actually completed its purpose and distracted you effectively. your mind now wondering how the main character was going to open up his own jazz club.

the door opening startled you slightly, turning your head immediately to see the person you had been missing the whole evening. satoru kicked off his shoes at the entrance as he stepped closer to you, a hand running through his snowy hair and taking off his rectangular glasses.

"oh baby, you should have seen utahime! she is so bad at playing baseball even though she's a fan of it!"

what a fucking dumbass. your eyes full of love threatened to turn wicked at such comment. so he went to play baseball with her?! it wasn't work-related?!

"what do you mean, satoru?" your tone wasn't the kindest. "I thought you went out to talk over the final details about the exchange event."

"oh, that," satoru was now aware of your little irritation, your evident pitch of voice made sure of that. "yeah it is very important for the event, baby!"

"how so?" exasperation was written all over your face, making story wince a bit. you lifted yourself up from the couch to face him.

"do you really want me to tell you? I mean, I wanted it to be a surprise for the studen—"

"what could possibly be a surprise, satoru?!" you snapped. the first two thirds of his sentence infuriated you so much you didn't even listen to his last words. "you going out three times with utahime this week was definitely a suprise for me."

his baby blue eyes were as wide as plates. he didn't expect you to yell at him over this. and for some reason, he felt himself warmer.

"and, and now—" red was coating your face, endless frustration ready to be busted in forms of hurtful words and angry glances. "and now you're telling me you were playing baseball with her?! and expect me to be all okay with that? what kind of work-related stuff requires two coworkers to go out and play baseball alone?"

satoru was in a state of awe at first, his face displaying the shock your exposed irritation caused him. but his bad habit of fixing situations with comedy and witty remarks had entered the scene. it would have normally calmed you down, if it wasn't for the pent up frustration that was on the picture.

"oh~ so you were jelly~?" he sent you a wink, his lanky body getting closer to yours by instinct. "don't worry baby. I have eyes only for yo—" wrong move.

"how could you joke about this, satoru?!" your loud words stirred something inside him, something that should not be stirred nor awaken during these moments. "im here trying to tell you how I feel and you just— you just joke arou—" your words were fading away in his hearing. your red face and glassy eyes only on his mind. oh how pretty you looked when you were angry, especially when you were yelling at him. a wicked part of satoru was glad your undivided attention was on him, even if it was you snapping at him. your overly licked lips were moving furiously as you cried out your thoughts.

"and now you are spacing out!" you snapped your fingers in front of him. satoru's mind went back to the scenario occurring in the living room.

"baby, you have literally nothing to worry abo—"

"stop talking and let me finish."

oh no. he loved you and hated you for that. satoru fell in love hard for your personality, admiring how you never left anyone cut your words. you always stood for yourself, shouting your thoughts in a confident voice. and in a world still ruled by men such as the sorcery world, that was very hard to achieve. but oh how he hated that exact same admiration for your courage became warm enthusiasm—lust—in a couple of seconds. your sharp tone kindled his core, feeling his pants a bit tighter in the front.

not now please... he cursed in the back of his head. you were already cooking him, a visible boner would be the death for him. a reasonable motive to make him sleep in the couch and put him in a sex—or even touch, if you were feeling sinister—ban.

"i don't like it when you joke when I tell you about my feelings," there it was again, that stern voice he loved so much, though he cursed it at the moment. "I also don't like it when you go out too much with utahime."

if you only knew you were making him hard as hell from yelling at him you wouldn't even have to worry about his female friends.

"is that understood, satoru?" you lifted one single finger to emphasize your point even more. that little habit of yours, along with placing a hand on your hip and slightly wobbling your head, was going to be his final straw.

"yeah, of course baby." he breathed, sending you an apologetic look. "can we go to bed, already? I need cuddles."

you shot him an unamused glare. uh maybe you weren't done. satoru could feel his hot skin sticking to his clothes thanks to his sweat. you held so much power over the strongest.

"why were you playing baseball with her?"

"baby it wasn't anything of the sort!" he said agitated. "you know that after the group combat usually comes the individual combats, and I just know yuji will be in danger," you nodded at his words. that was true. satoru had told you a few days before he suspected of someone plotting against the young sorcerer. "so I wanted to change the routine and make it about something fun, you know? something harmless, like some sport the kids will enjoy."

your heart actually softened at his explanation. satoru's priorities embraced the security of the youth, especially that of the newest first-year student, which was often at jeopardy.

however, that explained nothing.

"what does that have to do with you going out with—"

satoru cut your words, and flinched slightly at the way your eyes narrowed and your brow curled up. "I couldn't come up with something myself, so I asked nanami and utahime to go out to play a sport they liked. of course I couldn't tell them what I was plotting," his hands motioned to himself. "nanami took me to bowling, I liked it, but then I thought it wouldn't be a good idea especially for yuji and maki, you know how they are." you nodded. "and then utahime took me to a baseball simulator, and it was all perfect!" he said enthusiastically, lifting his long arms in victory. he was feeling so hot his forehead was shining with sweat. it was becoming harder and harder to contain his boner. the last thing he wanted was to nut mid-explanation.

you widened your eyes in both wonder and confusion.

"no! i mean—," he panicked "it was all perfect because the game was perfect for the kids. not that it was perfect to go out with her!" your husband tried to save himself.

an unannounced sighed left your lips. you were still glaring at him, and even though satoru was a foot taller than you, you were making him a bit too much nervous.

—that and the fact that his stiff boner was still present, only softening lightly when he panicked at your misunderstanding. his little friend was eager for you to yell at him as well.

"am i forgiven now?" he battled his long white lashes to you, giving you the babiest of looks, deeply hoping you would end this silly discussion and take care of him.

"mmm..." a finger rubbed your chin as you pondered about it. "I don't know, satoru," he deflated in front of you. "why didn't you ask me for help? you know I like sports too."

"of course I thought about you, pookie! you were the first person I considered" a pout adorned his pretty face as his long arms attempted to hug you, only for you to step back. "please don't do that, im gonna start crying."

"answer the question satoru."

"it's just that you were so busy with work I genuinely didn't want to disturb you more."

it was true. even though you were not a teacher at the school, the exchange event also demanded you of your time, your main concerns being completing and getting the arrangements ready, especially with the higher ups—the part satoru disliked the most—, and making the them believe sukuna's vessel was still dead.

"but it could have been just a simple question, satoru." there you were again with that rigid tone of yours. haven't you noticed satoru is all red faced and his cock is starting to ache? of course not, because you hate him, right?

"I know baby~" a whine left his mouth, eyes pleading you two could just cuddle and maybe, just maybe, you could stroke him a bit. "but you were very, very, very stressed, I really didn't want to put another burden on you. you would often come very tense after a meeting with the higher ups."

you huffed. well, you guessed you could give that to satoru. but it still hurt he didn't even ask you the simple question, or even explaining to you his little plan. he was certain you wouldn't object.

"okay, satoru," the tall man's ears spiked at your words. ready to say yes to your proposal to cuddling. "I still need some time to cool down. so I'll go to bed." your feet dragged you to the hallway after you turned off the tv, satoru following you behind. "no," you lifted your palm toward him, stopping him. "you sleep in the couch."

"but whyyy?"

"because you didn't tell me sooner about all this! and because im still mad at you."

satoru let out a dramatic puff, blowing raspberries. he grabbed quickly his things and prepared himself for a lonely night. the disappointment from not sleeping next to you dissipated his boner.

the next day you actually didn't see each other until night. satoru had to attend a clan meeting while you met with the directors of both sorcery schools to go over all the remaining affairs.

exhaustion drew all over your face as you entered your house, a recently cooked meal aroma invading your nostrils. your feet pulled you toward the exquisite scent with little resistance. the view of your tall husband hovering over the stove welcomed you.

"hey pookie boo," satoru said excitedly as he stirred whatever he was making. tapping the utensil away before invading your personal space. "how was your meeting with the directors? they weren't rude to you, were they?" he smiled as he enveloped you in a affective hug. you hadn't forgotten about his little game from last night, but you would be lying to yourself if you admit you hadn't missed his warmth.

"it was fine, very tiring," you looked at him with tired eyes, making his heart do several jumps at your cuteness. "they made me go over all the details about the curses they will release, discussing if they were the appropriate levels for the students."

"oh poor you~" he sang. "let me feed you fully and then we can go to bed and have a well deserved sleep," he was trying to get away.

"hey!" you yelped. satoru felt his dick stir and enlarge. "don't think I haven't forgotten about last night," a stern pitch adorned your voice.

"baby, please," he whined, "if you knew what you do to me, you wouldn't be like this," he hinted silently to the ache between his legs. "what do you want me to do to—"

"satoru," a shiver danced along his spine at the sound of his name rolling from your lips. "I want you to only look at me," you don't know what roamed through your being, but a sudden urge of claiming him took over you. your bottled up feelings from last night revealing themselves. perhaps the heat of the moment didn't let you communicate your darkest desires.

your smaller frame was still held captive by his heavy arms. you lifted your arms to surround his neck, bringing him closer to you, chest to chest. satoru left you handle him as you pleased. he caressed your waist as you stared up at him, darkness painting itself over your irises, your gloomy gaze contributing to the tightening feeling of his pants, his present hard-on sharpening his breathing.

"i want your to only look at me," a twitch inside his pants.

"i want you to give me your full attention," a throb.

"i want you to only think of me," a pulse.

"you are mine, satoru, and as far as I know, im yours. so don't you ever forget that." the white haired sorcerer could bet his underwear was damp from his leaking. why were you like this?

you nuzzled your nose against his, before giving his lips a chaste kiss. "baby you are so hot when you are toxic like that." you chuckled lightly at his words, brushing your fingers along the short hairs of his undercut. you swear you could hear him purr.

"toru don't romanticize this side of me or I'll be more toxic than the elephant's foot." satoru gave your butt a little squeeze before bringing one hand up to play with your cheek, squeezing it as well, before leaving a soft peck on it. his lips then moved to yours, sharing a long and passionate kiss with you. oh how much he missed your touch.

"baby would you get mad at me if I tell you I was hard as a rock when you were yelling at me last night? no one has that power over me."

"what"

[2pndr]

Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

Hi! This is my first ever fic! Hope you enjoy it :D

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

8.4k words (sorry)

“We’ll only agree if you guys bring along a fourth friend, ok?”

Your three friends all recited to you the conditions a “goddess” had set for the Christmas quadruple date they were dragging you into.

You sat at your desk, speechless as you scanned the pleading faces of your roommates and long-time friends, stunned by their brazen appeals to you. It was probably that last sentence that bamboozled you the most though. Sure you were the closest to them, but it’s not like they were short on other friends. Why did you of all people have to come along?

“Why me of all people?” you asked again, this time out loud.

“Well, apparently, they have a you in their friend group too,” one of your friends began.

“A me?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, a you,” he continued. “Y’know, a stubborn, reclusive homebody who needs to be dragged out of their room every time their friends wanna hang out. All because they enjoy their ‘me time’ a little too much,” he joked, perhaps a bit too accurately imitating your increasingly weak excuses to leave the dorm.

“Ha, ha,” you mocked.

“No seriously! Apparently, her name’s Winter.”

“Winter?” You stifled a snicker. “Like the season? That’s her real name?”

“I mean, that’s what they told us,” your friend replied with a shrug. “Who cares? It’s kinda cute.”

You silently agreed, hiding a smirk as to not concede that your interest was piqued. “So let me get this straight,” you began, folding your arms in an attempt to appear unfazed. “The only reason I’m being dragged along is because you guys need someone to pair up with some girl who—what?—shares my hate for leaving the house? The hell’s in this for me?” You asked, feigning anger.

“Dude, it’ll be a perfect match!” another friend enticed, desperately trying to paint the situation in an appealing light. “You both don’t like leaving your rooms, you both hate meeting new people. It’s like the universe is aligning for you two to meet.”

Did he even realise the irony of that sentence?

“C'mon man, spending Christmas alone in your room three years in a row is some of the saddest shit I’ve ever seen,” The first one remarked.

Well he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t let him get any ground.

“Some people can’t help it,” You retorted.

“Well those people probably don’t have a chance to go out with the most attractive women they’ll ever see.”

You scowled, about to add fuel to the fire before your third friend cut you off.

“Think about it,” he chimed in, shifting the conversation away from an argument. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll probably want this whole thing over with as fast as you do.”

“Uh, huh…” You leaned back in your chair, tamed, but staring at the ceiling unconvinced. A girl like you? With how active the rest of the campus was, you found it hard to believe there was actually someone out there like you—someone cynical and uncomfortable with social gatherings of any form. 

To be clear, you didn't have poor social skills—in fact, you’d argue you had a certain way with words—you just avoided any chance to use them. You had a knack in discerning the smallest shift in someone’s expression, adjusting your tone, words and body language to suit.

But that knack was often overshadowed by an unshakable urge to assess, to weigh every syllable and gesture, scanning for the faintest sign of discomfort or misinterpretation.

This hyperawareness turned into a road-block for any conversation. Instead of letting the flow guide you, you’d find yourself scrutinising every word you said the instant it left your mouth, wondering if it had landed right, if it was too much or too little, or if you’d somehow veered into awkward territory.

The more you tried to keep things smooth, the more you’d find yourself caught in these spirals of self-correction, only to create the very awkwardness you’d been trying to avoid. 

So in the rare case you did end up at a social event, it was like you were playing a part. You stuck to the same few openings, the same practised routes for small talk.

There was nothing organic or genuine about the performance, nothing personal or meaningful. It was merely for show—a facade to keep up appearances.

It was all exhausting, and that’s what you had reiterated to your friends time and time again.

Regardless of your scepticism though, a strange part of you was actually a little curious. Not about the date itself—no, that was still a nightmare—but about this mysterious girl who apparently shared your introversions.

“Look, all we’re asking for is one night,” one pleaded, hands glued together as if he was in prayer. “One night! Just hang out with her for a couple hours while we chat up her friends, and you never have to do this again. You don’t have to see her again, talk to her again or anyone else if we ever ask.  We’ll owe you big time.”

“Seriously dude, we’ll pitch in for the PS5 Pro or something!” another added in further pleas.

You let out a long sigh, staring this time down at your desk. Not in a million years would you even consider buying that atrocious excuse for a cash grab, but the sentiment of your friends owing you that colossal amount was admittedly tempting.

And then there was this Winter girl. The one who was apparently as much of a hermit as you were. You couldn’t ignore that meeting her was happening during Christmas, the very time of year you tried to avoid going out the most. But you almost couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person she was, if she really was as closeted as you or just some exaggerated myth your friends had conjured up to lure you out.

It shouldn’t have, but just the idea of her tickled something deep in your brain, flooding your subconscious with various guesses of her character. 

Your mind conjured up an amalgamation of the most attractive women you had seen throughout your life; famous actresses and idols, the cute barista at the Starbucks down the road, that one girl at the airport who caught your eye but you never ended up talking to.  Their looks, personalities, whatever alluring details you could recall were being melted together and forged into what became your own expectation of Winter. 

You imagined a stunning slim and quiet girl—that much was obvious—with milky white hair, and fair complexion. They were traits all befitting of a girl named Winter. But in your mind something about her attitude, her facial expressions… they radiated… cold. It wasn’t unlike how you appeared to strangers—irrationally concealing your timid fear of interaction with a stiff stare and an emotionless face. As  you considered how similar your vision of her felt to you, it was strangely… warm…familiar. 

Within a matter of seconds, your apprehension had transformed to a hesitant desire to meet her. Or rather, this idea of her you had thrown together. 

You sat in a long silence, wrestling with your inner turmoil—your shameful, uncharacteristic urge to discover the truth about this girl. 

Seriously man? You asked yourself. There’s no way in hell she’d look anything like that if she was anything like you. 

Your asshole of a subconscious did have a point. 

But something about this tugged at you in a way you couldn’t help but notice. If this girl was like you, really like you, you had to know.

 “Alright,” you eventually grumbled, putting a hand over your face to suppress the oncoming wave of regret already washing over you. “I’ll go.”

Your friends erupted in cheers, high-fiving and dapping each other up like they had just won themselves a date with the hottest girls on campu–Oh.

“YES! You’re the man!” one of them yelled, giving you a ‘pat’ on the back that almost knocked you out of your chair.

"You won’t regret this!" another exclaimed, jabbing a finger toward you, though deep down, you already kind of did.

“FUCK YEAH!” the last one punched to the sky. “We owe you man,” smiling from ear-to-ear as cheers followed him out of your room.

As you hastily cleared the other two from your territory, you felt the dread settling in. One night, that’s all it was, you told yourself. Just one night with this girl named Winter, who was probably as opposed to this as you were.

What’s the worst that could happen?

---

Before you knew it, you were in your friend’s car, dressed in your Sunday’s best—which, admittedly, was a hastily thrown together fusion of your roommates’ closets.

An attempt had been made to make your less than desirable features appear at least mildly presentable to the outside world. Your hair had been styled with some expensive hair product you could barely pronounce, your caveman scent obscured by some B-list celebrity’s cologne, and your abhorrent posture—honed through years of agonising abuse to your spine—was being corrected by your friends’ frustrated hands what felt like every other second. 

They had half-jokingly, half-100%-seriously subjected you to some correction exercises over the past few days, few of which you actually bothered to attempt. Obviously, the few you had tried didn’t work, as your friend had stopped bothering to correct your posture himself, instead resorting to giving you a stinging slap every time your spine inevitably slumped from upright.

 The swelling of the handprint forming on your back had charitably distracted you from the metric-shit ton of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It caused your breathing to grow heavy and your heart to feel it was going to burst from your chest. A couple sleepless nights and a few too many hours of staring blankly at your PC monitor had transformed your strange curiosity for meeting Winter back into dread. 

You had moronically forgotten you actually had to talk to this girl for a couple hours instead of just confirming if she was similar to you.

Either you forced some kind of pitiful attempt at conversation with her—risking major embarrassment—or both of you succumb to sitting in introverted silence. 

Even if you could properly wrestle with overusing your little talent, the fact was, any attraction whatsoever to a girl caused you to fold like a cheap suit, rendering your ability useless. If Winter was any bit as alluring as your mind made her out to be it would be more than disastrous for you. It would be like every ounce of composure was swapped out for a hyperactive inner monologue—one that left you stumbling over your own thoughts.

As your friend’s car hummed along the bustling holiday streets, your mind continued to spin in overdrive almost as quickly as the neon red and green of the city's Christmas ornaments seemed to appear and disappear all around you. You aimed  to avoid risking any conversation that led to your humiliation, desperately mapping out the possible routes for conversation. This process was standard yet exhaustive at this point—your own RPG dialogue tree being mapped out in your mind.

"Hey, nice to meet you. How’s it going?"

"Fine."

[ No further options.]

You could already feel the weight of the dead-end conversation dragging the both of you down. That wasn’t going to work.

“So, what kind of stuff are you into?"

"Not much."

 [FAILED: Charisma check too low.]

Your mind projected you staring at the ceiling, desperately trying to find something, anything, to say while Winter twiddled her thumbs, wondering out loud with a groan,“Why did I even bother to show up.”

 What the fuck brain? That wasn’t helping your confidence at all.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

"Yeah, same."

[Neutral response. Proceed carefully.]

This felt promising. You could try pushing deeper, maybe ask a follow-up question, but you could already feel how you would screw it all up—one wrong word, one wrong look and kaput.

How about…

[Say Nothing.]

[No response.]

Yeah, that’s probably how it’s gonna go.

The car hit a bump in the road, and so did your only shred of confidence in this turning out well. You sighed quietly to yourself, senselessly running through these hypothetical scenarios in your head, frantically searching for the “good” dialogue option that simply wasn’t available to you.

There was no save scumming in real life, no charisma stat to help you bluff and charm your way through the whole thing, no getting lucky with your dice rolls either. It was just your limited social ability, a few thinly veiled attempts at small talk, and the faint hope that Winter might somehow be interested in having a conversation. It all reminded you why you avoided these kinds of situations in the first place…

You suck at them.

What felt like eternity with your own thoughts was soon interrupted as the car pulled up to the curb. You noticed the Christmas themed sign of the barbeque restaurant in the evening dusk. You stared at it, utterly terrified like it was signalling the entrance to some twisted version of hell—a place where your date, crowds of people, and the inevitable crushing embarrassment of being out of your element awaited—your hell. 

Your friends on the other hand were already pumped, talking over each other in excitement as they recounted for the hundredth time just how hot these girls they scored were. Meanwhile, you were still stuck somewhere between resignation and panic.

Their voices blended into background noise—drowned out by the mental gymnastics you were performing to figure out how to survive the next couple of hours. You hadn’t even walked into the restaurant yet, and you already felt like retreating into the comforting embrace of your bed sheets back home.

As you resolved to follow your friends inside you were instantly hit by a wall of warmth, thick with the smell of grilling meat and the hum of lively holiday celebrants. The restaurant was buzzing—waiters weaving between tables, the sizzling of meats echoing from grills, and laughter rippling across the room like a contagious wave. Already the ‘energy’ in here was too much for you, prompting you to  take a moment to adjust the atmosphere—all while your friends strode in like they owned the place. 

This was the kind of scene you’d typically steer clear of: crowded, chaotic, and packed with people who simply enjoyed the presence of others. The holiday season did nothing to ease your anxiety, doing its part to gather everyone together by filling every seat in the restaurant. You shoved your hands into the unfamiliar pockets of the jacket your friends threw on you, hyper aware of how out of place you felt.

 Your friends were greeted with warm smiles from the hostess—predictably, since they looked like they had just stepped off of the cover of Vogue magazine. Meanwhile, you were certain you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.

She led you all to a private booth which was, thankfully, designated its own corner far away from the rest of the vivacious dynamic of the restaurant’s other patrons. Your relief didn’t last long though, as your heart leapt into your throat when you spotted four girls already sitting there. Three of them stood up to greet you, all endearing smiles, waves and the obligatory “Merry Christmas.”

Your fear was instantly frayed as the first girl began her introduction. Her name was Karina, and you were taken aback at how uncannily beautiful she was. In fact, it was almost unsettling how flawless she looked. It was like she had been engineered in a lab or generated by some AI algorithm designed to create the perfect face. Everything, right down to her sharp profile and unnaturally smooth skin was other-wordly perfect. A small mole dotted the edge of her chin, like an anchor tethering her otherwise impossibly symmetrical features to reality. She greeted your friends with a poised smile, but there was something behind her eyes—sharp, calculating, and trained on you—like she was sizing you up in particular.

But your mind paid that no attention as the next beauty introduced herself as Giselle—Her confident demeanour being the highlight for you. She moved with an ease that gave the impression she wasn’t fazed by anything or anyone. Her posture was relaxed, yet somehow commanding, exuding an energy that screamed, I’m hot, and I fuckin’ know it. The assertive eye contact she made with each of you as she introduced herself caused you to shrink back, almost out of respect for her authority. In contrast, her voice was steady and warm, but her eyes flicked back to Karina’s every so often, like the two of them were communicating without saying a word.

Then there was Ning Ning, who practically radiated excitement. Her lips curved into a smile that was bright and infectious, the kind that lit up her entire face. She greeted you all with a playful wave that bordered on adorable. Yet there was a switch in her—something in the way her expression shifted mid-conversation from lively and sweet to striking confidence—which could flip in an instant. She seemed to live in the moment though, completely detached from whatever silent exchange was happening between the other two. It was hard to tell if Ning Ning was more girl-next-door or temptress, and that fluidity made her all the more intriguing.

Your friends weren’t exaggerating. Each of them was stunning in their own way—like the kind of women you’d expect to see gracing the pages of a high-fashion magazine or as models strutting down a runway.

Yet, you couldn't help but notice the girl still seated at the inner end of the table, toying with her sleeves as the soft glow of her phone lit her face. Winter, you assumed. She didn’t stand, didn’t do so much as glance briefly at the four of you. But even in her stillness, she drew your attention. Her beauty wasn’t like Karina’s polished perfection or Giselle’s self-assured allure and most definitely not like Ning Ning’s bubbly charm. Winter appeared different—there was something so fundamentally distinct about her that interested you, piqued your curiosity when you thought you were infallible to such feelings. Regardless of what you heard about her, you found yourself encapsulated by nothing but her sheer beauty. 

As your eyes lingered on her you didn’t feel like you were looking at a person. Instead it was as if you were gazing upon the natural landmark of a frost-covered landscape—pure, serene, and silently breathtaking. It was as if she belonged more to the cold elegance of nature than to the warmth of human company. Her presence was subtle yet striking, like the clear, crisp air on a winter morning. The restaurant's soft, amber light caught her pale complexion in a way that made her seem almost ethereal, yet still grounded. Her silvery-white hair cascaded around her face like freshly fallen snow, soft and shimmering, as if her namesake itself had carefully crafted each strand to highlight her delicate features. Somehow, Winter lived up to that paradoxically beautiful expectation you had envisioned, but seeing her in person gave the impression she transcended it.

You stumbled through your own introduction to the rest of the girls, utterly captivated by what most people would consider a bad display of manners. Anybody in your shoes would have had their eyes glued to the trio of goddesses standing before you, but you could barely spare them a second—alright, a third glance. 

Predictably, the small talk that followed didn’t include you. Your friends however—more eager than you’ve ever seen them—quickly launched into banter with Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning. Normally you would be in awe of how easy they made the whole thing look, but you could only half-listen, your thoughts and eyes constantly drifting toward Winter, who remained seated quietly at the end of the booth.

Eventually, Karina offered you all to sit, prompting one of your friends to shove you along to your side of the table. The little collision knocked you out of the fugue-like state you were in, drawing a quiet cry that caused laughter to erupt around you. Quickly realising that you’d be facing Winter, you hesitantly sat down, your eyes flicking back to her every now and then.

When she finally glanced your way, there was a brief pause, her cool eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you were caught, held in the silence between you. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, but a hint of vulnerability showed itself as she studied you. Before you knew it, you were staring—completely absorbed by the depth in her eyes. They weren’t just cold or distant as you first thought—they were calm, almost reflective, like a still lake that hid something beneath its surface. The more you looked, the harder it became to pull yourself away.

Seconds passed—maybe more—and you didn’t even realise how long you’d been holding her gaze until your heart gave a sudden jolt, reminding you that you were looking at a person and not nature’s pièce de résistance. Embarrassment shot through you as you quickly broke eye contact, feeling a heat crawl up your neck.

“Winter, right?” Your voice came out much too casual, completely betraying the fact that you were just caught staring at her like an absolute buffoon. How did you already manage to mess this up?

Winter tilted her head ever so slightly, a small flicker of amusement ghosting over her lips before she nodded. She blinked more than once, her lashes fluttering to mask brief hesitation. Her gaze softened just slightly. “Yeah,” she replied simply. Her voice was soft, but clear. There was no hint of awkwardness or hesitation, but the slight shift in her posture, the way her fingers brushed the sleeve of her shirt said otherwise.

You nodded, you’d only asked one question and you already felt like your dialogue options were exhausted. But on the bright side, the mere fact she replied meant things were already going better than they did in your head.

The silence between you both stretched for a beat, then another. Neither of you spoke, but remarkably it felt like the words were there, waiting to be said. Winter’s fingers continued nervously with her sleeve, brushing the fabric in small, rhythmic strokes, while you found yourself looking at empty plates, the table—anything but her. Both of you seemed unsure of what to say next, letting you confidently conclude that she was indeed as nervous as you. You noticed her lips parting as if to speak, only to close again after a moment of hesitation. 

A few more seconds passed before you both spoke at once.

“So—”

“Did you—”

You stopped mid-sentence, catching her eye before you let out a quiet, awkward chuckle. “Uh, sorry. You go first.”

Winter looked down briefly, as if gathering herself. When she lifted her gaze again, there was a softness in her eyes, and a hint of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Her thumb brushed the edge of the table, tracing it gently as she glanced back at you. “They had to bribe you too?” She asked timidly, lightly gesturing to your friends who were engrossed with hers.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that. It’s a whole mess, isn’t it?”

Winter nodded, her own smile flickering into existence, delicate but brief. Her voice softened as she admitted, ”These three promised me free food for a week just to get me to show up.” Winter scrunched her face, slanting her eyebrows in an attempt to scowl at them, but failed miserably, producing an adorable pout that was more endearing than anything else.

Your heart may as well have melted right there. 

You laughed softly, buying yourself time to regain your composure. From afar, she was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, but up close? When that cold, hard exterior began to fade, she doubled as the cutest too.

Your little chuckle successfully let you continue the eerily natural flow the two of you had going. “Mine offered to chip in for a game console.”

“So that’s what got you, huh?” Her eyes brightened with amusement, and for the first time, you saw her smile linger just a little longer. It wasn’t just her smile though. A slight accent softened the edges of her naturally sweet tone. Everything she said felt so easy on the ears, so digestible, and you—despite your scepticism and bitterness towards being here—found yourself hungry for more. Your friends would have called you a hypocrite, but in your defence, they both contributed to this perfect image that sat opposite you. You couldn't help but think it was the cutest sight you’d ever seen. 

Perhaps that’s what gave you the strength to say this next part.

“Well not exactly…” You trailed off, breaking eye contact as your fingers fidgeted nervously under the table. 

Winter tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow in anticipation like a puppy awaiting a command. God, how was everything she did so adorable?

You leaned in, still avoiding her gaze and turned your head slightly toward the wall, hoping the others wouldn’t overhear what you were about to say.

“I was uh…” You began, almost a whisper as the words struggled to leave your suddenly dry mouth.

This time Winter leaned in, meeting you at a distance a little too close for comfort.

“I was curious about you…”

Your words were like bullets, creating an embarrassing recoil that sent you hurtling back into the headrest, your gaze pointing straight down as a crimson flush seized the skin of your cheeks.

Your friends would have scoffed at how trivial that whole exchange seemed, all the while you felt like a timid middle schooler confessing to his crush. You managed to baffle yourself with your boldness, not daring to look up and see Winter’s reaction.

To your further surprise, your little self-conscious introspection was interrupted by a giggle. Not just any giggle. Winter’s giggle.

You looked up to meet her face—equally as rosy as yours. But in place of your distraught expression was Winter, giggling like a child on a sugar-high. Her laughter was light and melodic, bubbling up like it couldn’t be contained. She leant back covering her open mouth with her hand. Her whole face had lit up, it was the kind of laugh that crinkled her eyes and shook her shoulders ever so slightly. It wasn’t just the sound, though—it was the way she smiled from ear to ear, so unguarded and genuine, a welcome contrast to the shy and distant she showed otherwise.

You lied earlier. This was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

At first, you were confused by her sudden outburst, but as the infectious warmth of her laughter sunk in, a mutual smile spread across your face. The tension you’d been holding onto for several days seemed to melt away with each lingering note of her laugh. You honestly had no idea what she found so funny, but in the moment, you were just happy to go along with it, confident that you were doing at least something right.

Your friends, noticing her giggling, shared amused glances but didn’t interrupt. From the way they were staring, they were just as surprised as you were at how well this was going. They all held an expression that confessed we didn’t know you had it in you.

Ning Ning too giggled under her breath, playfully nudging Giselle. “Look at that—actual progress,” she muttered teasingly, her tone dripping with mock disbelief.

Karina though, was different. She subtly monitored the interaction, her sharp gaze softened now, intrigued by how Winter was opening up. It felt like she approved though, commending you in getting Winter out of her shell. She stayed silent though, still content to just observe.

Winter’s adorable outburst slowly ebbed, her shoulders still shaking slightly as she tried to catch her breath. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, an adorable mix of bashfulness and amusement colouring her features.

“So…” she began meekly, eyes flickering down before meeting yours again. “Do I live up to your expectations?” Her tone was soft, tentative, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

You were caught off guard by Winter’s own intrepid addition to your conversation, feeling your face heat up as you struggled to find the right words. 

I—well…” You exhaled, trying to pull together the honesty that was suddenly a challenge to articulate in her presence. “You’re not what I expected,” you admitted, a gentle smile finding its way onto your face. “I don’t think I could’ve pictured someone quite like you, even if I’d tried.” 

The sudden spark of vulnerability in Winter’s expression tugged at something in you. You realised your answer might’ve sounded too cryptic, maybe even evasive. The faint quiver of her brow and roll of her Adam's apple told you she wasn’t sure how to take that.

You cleared your throat, glancing up at her cautiously as you explained, “I mean that in a good way!” Winter had a beauty that seemed too obvious, too stunning to need validation, yet you couldn’t help but want to say it aloud. “I thought you’d be stunning and well…you are.” Winter turned away sharply, hiding her flushing face with a hand. “I just thought that you’d be a lot more.. distant. But meeting you here, seeing you laugh and smile…” you were thinking of an eloquent way to put this, but you found yourself beholden to the truth right now. 

Winter was having this… effect on you. You weren’t one to ‘open up’ or ‘talk about their feelings’ and yet you felt compelled to here. “Seeing you laugh and smile… I can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was spurred on from what you’d just described.

Winter’s cheeks deepened from a soft pink to a vibrant flush, and she let out a shaky breath. Her fingers lingered over her features, like she was trying to shield herself from the intensity of the moment. Her eyes darted back to you and the delicate gleam in her gaze made your heart skip. 

“Really?” she murmured, her voice barely audible, as though she feared saying anything louder might shatter the fragile honesty between you. She dropped her hand from her coloured cheeks, her eyes tracing your face for confirmation. “You really think that?”

You nodded, the sincerity in your gaze unwavering. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” You chuckled softly, hoping to lighten the air. 

Winter’s shoulders began to relax, she herself not realising that they were glued to her neck. Her face remained flushed, but the tightness in her posture had vanished, leaving her more relaxed and open in how she sat.

“Thank you…” she let out. Her voice remained soft, but they certainly carried more weight.

“I’ll admit I’m surprised too…” She hesitated, glancing away, lips curving into a soft smile. “I thought you’d be just like everyone else…” You listened attentively, holding her gaze while she spoke tenderly, honestly.

“So I didn’t expect you to be…well, this easy to talk to,” she admitted, rubbing up her arm. “You don’t feel like everyone else, all practised lines and smooth talking,” she let out a faint chuckle. “ You make mistakes, you slip up. You’re like me. And um… cute too.” It was your turn to look away, your own cheeks starting to heat up. “So there’s something really nice about that...”

 You pinched yourself under the table. This was going too well for you. This had to be a dream.

“I’m glad you think that,” you told her with a smile. Your voice was lower and steadier than you’d expected, though a trace of disbelief lingered beneath your words. Because, truthfully, you could never have imagined this going so well—not in a million lifetimes. 

To your absolute delight, Winter sent you another wide smile. You didn’t think it could get much wider, but somehow she pulled it off.

You hadn’t realised it till she brought it up, but with Winter, you didn’t need to use those memorised openers or routes. She enticed you in such a way that just encouraged you to just… be you. Everywhere else you went you always felt an expectation to act like everyone else, to sound like them. But in the short time you’ve been around Winter, you hadn’t felt that at all. Was it because you two were similar? 

“So,” You began, searching for your answer. “I take it you’re not a big fan of all this?” You gestured to the six other residents of the table, and by extension the rest of the restaurant.

Winter raised an eyebrow, leaning back into her chair.  She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs under the table, almost like she was trying to ground herself. “More or less. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate people... I just like my space, y’know? Too much noise, too many people... it feels like I’m in the wrong place.” She paused, glancing briefly at the rest of the table. “But you get it, right?”

“More than I care to admit,” you replied with a sigh, feeling some strange sense of relief wash over you. “It’s exhausting. I never know what to say, or how to keep up.”

Winter’s lips curved upward again, knowingly. She seemed to relax even more, sinking into the conversation as much as she did her seat. "Exactly. It always feels like everyone has these… scripts. Like they know exactly what to say and when to say it." She gestured lightly toward your friends, still engrossed in their own lively conversations. "But it’s… difficult. It’s all tiring,” She confessed with a little pout. “It doesn't feel natural or genuine to me, it feels like I'm… like I'm…”

“Like you’re playing a character,” you finished, taking the words right out of her mouth.

Her eyes widened a fraction, a glimmer of recognition passing through them. “Exactly!” she rejoiced. A quiet laugh escaped her, one that sounded relieved. “All our friends can happily be themselves, but we’re stuck acting like someone else.”

As Winter continued, you noticed a subtle shift in the way she spoke. It wasn’t just about her anymore—she was talking about the both of you. There was something comforting about the fact that she felt like you were in this together, like she saw a bit of herself in you. You weren’t just sharing a conversation anymore—it was an understanding. 

You nodded, staring into her opulent orbs as if she were a reflection of yourself.

But before either of you could say more, Karina’s voice cut through the air, pulling you both back into reality.

“Hey, are you two lovebirds ready to order?” she teased.

You blinked and glanced around, realising that everyone else had been staring at you—impatient, but knowing smiles all around. Even the waiter at the head of your table, pen poised and all, gave you a subtle, approving nod. 

“Oh, uh…” You stammered, feeling a rush of heat crawl up your neck. You turned to glance at Winter, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. Her eyes, wide and glimmering, were so close that you could see the subtle flecks of silver and blue swirling within them. The space between you was almost nonexistent; you were close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath, your noses almost grazing. Wait, what? The realisation hit you both at once, and in an instant, you jolted back into your seat, wide-eyed and startled, your heart pounding from the unexpected proximity.

Winter did the same, recoiling sharply and causing a small tremble in the table. Her face flushed a deep, rosy pink, the sudden burst of colour creeping from her cheeks down to her neck. 

“I’ll have the—”

“Could I have—”

 You both started at once, then stopped, exchanging an awkward, embarrassed laugh. You gave a little nod, gesturing for her to go first. 

“ I’ll have the…” 

Winter’s voice trailed off as she scanned the menu in a hurry, cheeks still rosy. She managed to mumble her order, then you fumbled your way through yours right after, both of you clearly rattled but trying to play it cool.

As the waiter left the table, a heavy silence settled over you and Winter. The energy from before—where genuine laughter and soft words had filled the space between you two—seemed to have dissipated. Now, you found yourself unable to speak, the memory of that fleeting, close encounter hanging thickly in the air, making it difficult to breathe. It rendered thinking of something to say practically impossible.

You glanced at Winter, only to find her just as quiet. She was staring at the menu again, though you knew she wasn’t really reading it. Her fingers brushed along the page absentmindedly, putting in no effort whatsoever to make her rapid flicking believable. Every so often, her eyes would dart toward you, only to quickly return to the menu the second she thought you might notice.

Despite the tension, a sense of relief came over you. The silence gave you an opportunity to collect yourself, to push back the storm of emotions swirling around inside you. You sank a little further into your chair, quietly thankful for the momentary ceasefire. 

Your mind wandered to all those couples who roamed the city streets—it was the bitter truth that you wouldn’t fit in as one of them. The way you’d always seen yourself didn’t align with how those people acted: smiling and talking for what felt like forever. For years on end you considered yourself emotionally unavailable, selfish with any time you had.  Yet, here you were, sitting across from Winter, someone who was...different. Someone who made you feel like, maybe—just maybe—you were capable of being one of those couples.

You shook your head slightly, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. No, that kind of thing didn’t happen to people like you. You were reading too much into it, weren’t you? It had to be just the heat of the moment, the proximity playing tricks on your mind. The sincerity in her gaze, the warmth of her breath—it was just...well, it was nothing, really.

But then why was your heart still racing?

Winter shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes still trained on the menu. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself, the words catching before they had a chance to escape. You could almost feel her nerves mirrored in your own chest.

You too thought about saying something—anything—to break the silence, but every possible word felt clumsy in your mind. You were far too embarrassed to speak up, but at the same time, you wanted to recover the soft energy that radiated between the two of you—the thrill of a conversation where you felt at ease, where you could be you. 

"Sorry, about… uh, that," you forced out, sending her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.” There was no reason for you to take responsibility, but you assumed it would ease her if she was absolved of fault. After all, it would have eased you.

Winter shook her head quickly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Trust me, if anyone made things weird, it was me.” You couldn't help but laugh—she was trying to do the exact same thing.

“Don’t worry about it, Winter,” you assured, her name slipping out instinctively.

There was a shift in her posture as her name escaped your lips, subtle but noticeable. She uncrossed her legs under the table and leaned forward ever so slightly, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her sleeve again. She seemed on the verge of saying something important. You could sense it in the way she glanced at you—anxious eyes, cheeks flushing scarlet.

Her lips pressed together for a moment, then softened as if she’d finally made up her mind. Her eyes met yours, letting you peer into that reflective lake once again. But this time, you could almost make out what was below— she was letting down a wall, one you’d wager few have ever seen behind.

 She took a breath, her chest rising and falling with a quiet resolve, and then, in almost a whisper she spoke.

 “Please. Call me Minjeong.” 

The simplicity of the words didn’t match the weight they carried. There was something so incredibly personal in her request, something that felt like a secret being shared between just the two of you. Her gaze stayed locked on yours, as if waiting to see how you’d react, her vulnerability laid bare.

“M-Minjeong,” you stuttered delicately, the name feeling both foreign and intimate on your tongue, like you were stepping into a space no one else had been invited to. 

Minjeong’s expression softened even more, a glimmer of relief flashing across her eyes. She let out a breath, one she seemed to have been holding in anticipation of your response. A curve played across her lips. It was pure, unguarded. You almost could see the warmth radiating off of her, like this simple act of you saying her name had drawn you two closer.

“I— I like the way you say it,” she confessed quietly.  Her voice was shy, as if she wasn’t used to hearing her own name spoken aloud.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, unsure of how to respond but feeling the gravity of the moment pull you deeper into her orbit. The vulnerability in her tone, the way her eyes softened when she looked at you, made everything feel so surreal. You had no idea what to say next, your mind scrambling for the right words, but none seemed enough.

Multiple pairs of eyes fell on you from around the table, but neither you nor Minjeong were in the right state to acknowledge it. As far as you were both concerned, you two were the only people on Earth right now.

Before you could manage a reply, Minjeong spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most people just call me Winter. It’s easier for me… less personal.” She glanced down at the table, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of her sleeve. “But I dunno…” She trailed off. “Minjeong feels right with you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were seeing something fragile. It was like she was giving you a piece of herself, trusting you to hold it gently.

“Minjeong,” you repeated, this time more certain. “It’s a beautiful name.”

She met your gaze again, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Thanks,” she murmured, a shy smile tugging at her lips, but this time, there was no hesitation in the way she looked at you. No walls, no pretence. Just Minjeong, in all her quiet, ethereal beauty.

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind you hadn’t experienced in years. It was like being a teen again, that rush of excitement and nervous energy coursing through you—the way it used to when you’d catch your crush’s eye across the room and feel your heart race. But this was different—it was deeper. As you sat there, looking at Minjeong, you realised it wasn’t just her beauty or the way she had let you in. It was the feeling she stirred in you, something you thought you’d long forgotten. She wasn’t just someone who caught your eye—she made you feel alive again. Like you were rediscovering that fluttery, intoxicating rush from your youth, but unlike then it wasn’t fleeting. There was a quality to it that you just couldn’t articulate—your years of social isolation, your unending cynicism towards basic human emotion left you that way. 

But you tried, tried to put a label on this unfamiliar feeling. You searched your mind for a word, a description, anything that could encompass what was building in your chest, but nothing came close. It was a bewildering sensation that refused to fit into the neat definitions you knew.

The tension in your mind dissipated the moment the waiter brought the food, and you watched as everyone’s attention turned to their meals. The table filled with idle chatter and silverware scraping against plates, grounding you back to the present. You took a steadying breath, grateful for the pause and the warmth of the meal as it cut through the delicate web that had woven itself between you and Minjeong.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice her in the little pauses and movements—the way her eyes sparkled with each glance around the table, her small, quiet smile at each bite. Even now, Minjeong’s presence felt magnetic, she occupied her space without demanding it, a rare grace that felt refreshing. Each time she looked up, she met your eyes with a soft, almost bashful smile that sent an echo of warmth through you. It made you want to reach out, to learn more, to let her know how much she’d already begun to matter to you.

The conversation around the table grew louder, but your own exchange with Minjeong stayed quiet and gentle. You spoke in low tones, sharing snippets about each other’s lives. Every glance, every subtle word between you seemed to deepen the quiet understanding you shared. Gone was your lacking composure, the insatiable need to assess and please. Your exchange with Minjeong felt like a safe space, a judgement-free zone to be yourself in public. You’d explain to her all your nerdy hobbies, and she would listen with genuine attentiveness, her eyes adorably lighting up when you’d find something else in common. In return, you found yourself hanging onto every word she offered back, falling deeper and deeper into the conversation as she opened herself up to you

And when there were lulls—as there inevitably were between introverts such as the two of you—you both found comfort even in the silence. It was strange, feeling so drawn to someone you had known for only a few hours. The part of you that usually resisted connections seemed to fall silent in her presence. And as she leaned in closer to share an amused thought, her fingers playing absently at the edge of her napkin, you felt something within you shift.

What was this feeling, exactly? You had tried to put it into words, only to come up empty. You were someone who could gauge how a person was feeling from body language alone, like you could measure and judge everything they felt. But when it came to yourself—your feelings, your emotions—you came up short. 

But as the evening wore on and the rest of the table grew quieter, you found yourself looking at Minjeong with a soft certainty. From the way Minjeong looked at you, you got the impression she was struggling with the same dilemma. But you didn’t need to name this undefined feeling that stirred in you. Every shared glance, every smile that lingered a beat too long—these were all the words you needed. There was an understanding—unspoken yet undeniable—that whatever this was, it was real. And in that moment, with the quiet warmth shared between you two, it was enough.

---

You emerged from the restaurant, taking in the brisk air of the Christmas evening. Typically, retreating back into the bustling street was your first step in your retreat to the solitary comfort of your dorm room. It let you breathe a sigh of relief for escaping whatever social event you had been forced into. 

But tonight? Tonight your steps were unhurried, in fact you felt the urge to linger. Tonight, Minjeong was by your side, her soft smile mirroring your own. The breath you let go this time was instead a remorseful one, a signal that your time together was almost over. Of course as much as she looked the part, the girl before you wasn’t some unreachable, otherworldly angel—she was real, and very much contactable. 

You both watched from afar as your friends exchanged phone numbers with Karina, Giselle and Ning Ning. On any other day, you would have looked on in unspoken envy,but alas, tonight was different. You stared at the new contact sitting in your phone—a beautiful name befitting of an equally beautiful woman, punctuated by two snowflakes either side of it. 

“Minjeong,” it read. Simple, familiar now, but it held a weight you’d never thought a name could carry.

You grinned, feeling a warmth unlike any the night’s chill could steal away. The white-haired girl handed your phone back to you, sending a sincere smirk your way. 

“Make sure to call me, okay?” 

Her tone was light and gentle, but her eyes were serious, like this meant more to her than anything else.

“Of course,” you assured. There was nothing in this world that could make you shatter the joy reflected in that smile.

Without warning, she stepped forward, instantly closing the distance between you.  Her arms wrapped around you—warm, gentle and tentative. For a moment, you were too stunned to react, but the heat of her body—which was now flush to yours—quelled any concern.  Instinctively, your arms folded around her, drawing her closer, absorbing her presence. The soft scent of her hair drifted up to you, and you felt her heartbeat against your own.

“Thank you for tonight.” She whispered, her soft voice muffled by your chest.

You didn’t know how long you two were standing there, pressed together as one, but in the moment it didn’t matter. When she finally pulled away, you saw her face, beaming like the sun shines.

“Have a wonderful night,” she said, her cheeks flushed, mirroring the festive glow of the streets around you.

“It already has been,” you replied, your heart full as you returned a gentle, loving smile.

Love. You chuckled. 

Maybe that’s what this was.

---

If you got here thank you much for reading my first ever fic! I know there's a lot of filler here which could very easily be removed, but I really just wanted to keep everything I'd written. In the future, I'll make sure everything's more streamlined.

But apart from that I'd love for some constructive criticism. Thanks again!

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism: "No thank you! I have a partner!"

Silly. G/N. Y'all probably seen the meme. Your partner comes home drunk and doesn't recognise you. Masterlists

Gun Park, Ryuhei Kuroda, Goo Kim, DG, Vin Jin, Jake Kim, Samuel Seo

Loud scratching and thumps at your front door wakes you. You wonder whether to arm yourself with a frying pan and then you hear your boyfriend muttering slurred profanities.

A loud bang reverberates through your home as he stumbles, drunk, through the door.

With a sigh, you crawl out of bed to check the state they're in.

Gun gazes at you, bleary-eyed and half focused. Slightly swaying on his feet, a very unusual sight of someone usually in full control of their body.

Then something clicks in his brain, eyes hardening just before he looks away. He tells you, tone disinterested, that he's a taken man.

"I don't know how I ended up here, but don't get the wrong idea."

He turns around, exits his own living room, exits his own home, and sleeps outside the apartment in the hallway instead.

.

.

"Yeah you're pretty cute," Ryuhei mumbles, words slurring together, "But my partner is cuter."

He pulls his phone out, drops it twice, unlocks it on the third attempt and shows you a picture - one that you have seen, actually one that you took of him smooching you on the cheek.

"Aren't they cute?" He beams, utterly besotted. "Let me just crash here," he says as he collapses on the sofa. "If you touch me I'll scream."

.

.

"Get your hands off me!" Goo screeches, slapping you away as you try to undress him and get him ready for bed. "My my, you're forward aren't you?"

Goo leans forward and gives you a smile halfway between utterly charming and complete sleazeball.

Then, all bravado evaporates and he sighs.

"Oh sweetheart you would be just my type, but," he pushes you off the bed, "I'm taken and very happy about it."

He lies down, burritoing himself and turning his back to you. "You can make your own way out."

.

.

Vin fiddles with his sunglasses, peering approvingly at you.

Even in his drunken haze he can tell that damn, you're fine. Except. He is also lucid enough to realise he is not looking respectfully anymore and he thinks of you, his ride or die, and his face completely changes.

He frowns and asks you what the hell you are looking at. That you have no chance. He has a partner at home that is much hotter, much better, thank you very much and yeah he's an asshole but he's not going to cheat so back the fuck off.

You roll your eyes, hackles would have been much higher if he wasn't actually being sweet in his own way.

.

.

DG takes a moment to process the situation. And when he does, he gets it completely wrong.

He plasters on his k-pop smile. The one reserved for winning over fans, interviewers and for his insincere apology videos.

"Did you want an autograph?" He pulls out a photocard from his inner pocket and a pen (and wow, you did not realise he carried a stack of his photos. You are not going to let him live this down) and scribbles his signature that comes with some love hearts and sparkles and passes it over to you.

"Here you go," he holds it out to you in both hands, not before mumbling under his breath, "You're cute but shit if you turn into another stalker..."

.

.

Jake is already asleep on the sofa by the time you pad out, which must be some super power in itself.

"Wake up," You give his shoulder a shake. He frowns, then cracks one eye open. "Come to bed."

He grunts something indecipherable and attempts to roll his oversized frame on your undersized sofa.

"Jake, cmon."

You start to drag him to your bedroom, your touch finally waking something inside and he bolts upright, removing your hands firmly off him.

"I have a partner." He tells you with no room for any misinterpretation. "But," he scratches absentmindedly at his stomach, "Do you have any food?"

.

.

Samuel does as he's told. Obediently removing his trousers, and unbuttoning his shirt, taking it off-

(Truly, you had no ulterior motive, you just wanted to remove the stink of alcohol.)

When, maybe for the first time in his life, he is afflicted with modesty and a startling clarity.

He yanks his shirt back on and pulls his trousers on with surprisingly sober efficiency.

"Absolutely not," he glowers at you, "This is not happening. I'm taken."

[httpswritings]

discovering true love — alexia putellas x reader

Warnings: mentions of past sexual abuse (without getting into detail on how that happened) and what it leads to for reader, therefore mentions of anxiety, fear to be touched, etc. 

Word count: 1392

Summary: Alexia and reader get into a relationship together, and reader have the need to tell Alexia about her past. Alexia comforting reader.

A/N: I've already warned about these sensitive topics above, so please only read if you feel like you can. 

You had been debating how to tell Alexia what happened to you in the past. 

You warned her about not sleeping with someone on the first date nor on the second or on the third, and she had no problem with it.

“I'm not interested in you because I want to take you to bed.”

Her smile was sincere, but somehow you couldn't believe.

Alexia did not question why you wanted to wait to have sex, many people need to get to know the other person better before they have it, so she didn't pay any attention to it.

What Alexia noticed was some behaviours, like tensing your muscles or flinching, you had, especially during physical contact.

It was not something regular, as if you'd only experienced that a few days a week, but you had a worried facial expression every time that happened.

Alexia kept asking if everything was okay and you nodded. 

You didn't want her to feel bad for wanting to touch you, but you knew the truth would eventually have to come out one day.

And that's what happened during an afternoon where you went to Alexia's house to have lunch and then watch a film.

As you were cuddling with her, she lowered her hand until she reached your elbow.

You instinctively flinched slightly, and she took it as if she had tickled you by accident.

She laughed and began tickling you, and you told her to stop.

For someone who didn't experience what you had to endure, tickling was something funny, but for you was a nightmare.

“Please, Ale, stop.”

You said it in a quite low voice, but she heard you perfectly.

Your heartbreaking tone alerted her.

“I'm sorry, my love, what's wrong?”

You knew you had to tell her what you were going through, but you didn't want to have that conversation, as you knew it was going to be a really tough one.

“Thank you for stopping.”

Alexia frowned. 

The look on your face screamed fear, accompanied by your chest showing a rapid rhythm of breathing.

“Of course. Why wouldn't I?” 

You shrugged and suggested to keep watching the film.

Alexia could feel how tense your body was, as if you were on alert, but she didn't know how to start the conversation.

At first, she thought that you had misinterpreted her, thinking that she wanted to take you to the bedroom, as you insisted quite a lot when you got with her that that was not going to happen until some time later.

-

[...] When you turned around, you saw a stunning blonde woman looking at you, holding your wallet, as it has fallen out of your purse.

You kept thanking her.

“I'm Alexia, by the way. Do you live around here?”

Her hazel eyes mesmerized you, making you respond some seconds later than expected.

You told her your name and the area where you lived.

Her vivid smile made you bit the corners inside your left cheek, making you more appealing to Alexia, knowing she had to try to get your number.

“Only if you want to, don't feel pressured to give it to me. You seem lovely and... yeah. I'd love to get to know each other.”

You accepted her request, making her smile even more, which send you over the edge.

“You seem lovely, too, Alexia.”

As you were about to say goodbye, you warned her about not sleeping with someone until you had known them better.

You were worried about if you had offended her, but she just shook her head, thinking you were probably tired of people only being attracted to you, and judging by your appearance and how appealing you were to her, she thought that used to happened more than you wanted.

“Don't worry. Just a casual date.”

-

But when Alexia remembered how you looked at her, as if you were a little bird on the street begging for some mercy, she knew something was off. 

Alexia did not touch you as you watched the film.

Many ideas crossing her mind explaining why you were behaving like that, most of them with the worst outcomes.

The film ended, and you turned around to looked at her. 

She smiled at you.

You recognized that smile.

It's the one people usually have when you told them about your past.

A compassionate smile that made you uncomfortable.

You didn't want compassion, you didn't want to have to go through the same conversation every time someone got closer to you.

There was no way Alexia knew it with certainty, but you could see in her eyes she could guess the problem.

Her hands were resting on the sofa.

You got nearer her face, tilting your head to the left to then ask if you could kiss her.

Alexia's smile changed.

She nodded and you kissed her delicately.

You placed both of your hands on her cheeks, laughing at the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, making her laugh too.

As you broke the kiss, you noticed her hands were still in the same position.

As if she didn't want to touch you, just in case you were going to break.

Sighing, you knew the time for the conversation had come.

“Ale, I want to talk to you about something.”

She simply nodded, as Alexia didn't know how to face that situation.

“Just... Don't get scared, okay? If it's too much for you, tell me, and I'll stop talking.”

You saw her frowning, so you decided to go for it.

As you were explaining to her what happened, you could see Alexia's face changing its expression.

Your eyes got teary, but you felt as light as a feather. 

Whatever Alexia's reaction would be, getting that off your chest was something you desperately needed.

“I know it's a lot and I still have a long way until I heal, so that's why I'm giving you the opportunity to break up wit—”

She didn't let you finish your sentence when she shook her head.

“I guess it's going to be challenging for both of us, but let's leave some things clear. Firstly, it was not your fault, therefore, do not feel as if you were a burden or as if it was your responsibility. Second of all, we'll have to have a few conversations about this topic, but do not feel pressured to talk about it. Third of all, we are not going to do anything you don't want to, as well anything I don't want to do. No matter how far we've gone, you can refuse to continue if you don't feel comfortable. And last, if I ever do something that makes you uncomfortable, please let me know. I will stop at that exact moment. I'm so sorry about the tickling before but—”

She broke down crying and you rushed to hug her. 

“I'm not crying because you made me feel bad about it but because of what you had to go through. I promise you are going to be safe and understood with me.”

You looked at her eyes, who were covered by tears, and for the very first time, you believed you were going to be safe around someone.

“I know, Ale, I know. Also, I want you to have one thing clear. If you feel like this is too much, or you feel uncomfortable, please tell me. I know you want to take care of me, but this can be really tough for you, too. So, let's have a good communication about it, okay?”

She nodded and sniffed, and you thought you had never seen something more adorable than that.

You took her hands.

“I'm going to place them around my waist. I'll probably flinch a little bit, but do not worry, I really want to try this.”

As she encouraged you, you placed her hands around both sides of your waist.

Your body tensed a little bit but you nodded at her as a way of agreeing to feel her touch.

You kept looking from her hands to her face, making you know that it was her who was touching you.

“Good job, my love. Let's leave it here for today, if that's alright? Little by little and step by step.”

You placed a quick kiss on her lips, finally tasting what true and genuine loved tasted like.

[dunmeshistash]

Why did Milsiril help with Mithrun's recovery?

Since people seemed to be interested in the post I made about why she adopted Kabru I wanted to write my thoughts about her helping Mithrun too.

I think with Mithrun it gets a little trickier tho, both because Mithrun himself doesn't speak much about his past and because most of it we get from a third party account. I'll also try to discuss based on what I see people say about their relationship although is probably gonna be shorter than Kabru's (came back to say it's not shorter), tw for self-harm because of Mithrun recovery drawings.

1 - So Mithrun could become a canary again

This is the theory I see the most often, probably it's whats on the main story, as far as I'm remembering there's no other mentions of Milsiril related to Mithrun besides the role she plays in sparing his life.

That story isn't reliable tho, Mithrun constantly points out that Kabru is glossing over details and Kabru himself is depicted as cooking (as the kids say) a good story that resonates with an audience.

So we can't really trust that this framing is objectively true

But even so taking just what happened, without the context Kabru added, what she did was spare his life once she realized he still had a hint of desire to exist within him.

Kabru lies (or rather embelishes a lot) when he says "and from that point onward, Mithrun lived only to slay demons. He ate even he had no desire to eat. He lived on even though he had no desire to live." he was useless for 20 years after this so 'saving him cause he will be useful later' isn't really too accurate. Milsiril also wasn't involved with his rehab until Utaya 18~19 years later so it definitely wasn't for this that she helped.

2 - So Mithrun could avenge Utaya by defeating the demon (She winded him up and set him on a path, you know, like a doll)

I think this one is kinda mean, I've seen people speak as if she only helped him after Utaya because she wanted to use him to defeat the demon. But there's no evidence Milsiril even cares about the demon or that she wants vengeance. My girl literally ran away and decided to look away instead of continuing to fight (and I can't blame her)

This, as far as I understand, is based both on the above section and on this part from her adventurer's bible extra

She shows up to visit him and brings up the demon, and then sets him up to go after it, but once again I think it relies on an unkind interpretation of her character; you gotta assume she has unseen ulterior motives already before the comic even starts, since this whole comic is talking about how she completely misinterpreted who Mithrun was when they were in the same squad, and how she feels he's actually someone she would get along with. If you know Milsiril, you know she only gets along with other misfits, she's acknowledging Mithrun as someone who was broken like her even before his desires were eaten.

This is the complete comic

"I always hated you. You were beautiful and perfect, and everybody loved you. You didn't seem to have a single worry or flaw.

But when I saw the dungeon you'd built, I was startled. It was such a warped, convoluted place built from inferiority, jealousy, lies and anger.

I wish I'd tried really talking to you. We might have hit off pretty well. Too late now, I guess"

She acknowledges him as a human being, when before she only saw him as the embodiment of the people that bullied her. And right after that she talks about the demon. There's no indication for a wish of vengeance anywhere in this comic, I'd even say the demon and the dungeons are barely important to what Milsiril is thinking, there's only belated compassion.

3 - Cause he was a new "project"

Related to the reasons pointed out in my Kabru post, people assume Milsiril is the type of person that wants/needs to feel superior to someone, or to put on an altruistic front or what have you. And that interpretation also leaks into how they see her helping Mithrun. I said the main reasons why I don't think she's that type of person on the other post so I wont repeat. But I don't think Mithrun is a "project" at all.

This was right after she fought on Utaya, I imagine a little after or a little before she took in Kabru, so she "had a project" already if you're gonna go with that wording. She was also finally free from the canaries and she had no obligation towards Mithrun. She also only went back to him decades after she spared his life, my assumption is that she did it because she finally could. She couldn't have guessed when she spared his life that 19 years later she would be free from the canaries and that Mithrun still wouldn't have been recovered and would have been needing her.

4 - And finally, why did she spare his life? Why did she help him recover?

This one isn't as straight foward as Kabru's adoption to me. I imagine the fact he had the potential to still be useful could be one of the reasons she spared Mithrun at first, but I also think that he newfound empathy she developed for him when she saw his dungeon might have been part of it, that seeing he still had some sort of drive and desire made her have hope he could still live.

Milsiril really seems like the type of person that likes to nurture, while I wouldn't say this makes her a "softie" and not able to execute him (I'm sure she could do a mercy kill) I think that soft side made her want to give him a chance. There's no proof for any of that ofc, and Kui confirmed in a QnA Mithrun wasn't arrested or executed because they were desperate for people to be in the canaries. (The choice probably wasn't only on her)

Now why she helped him? I think it's because she saw he could be helped.

She says herself she's only visiting, probably to check on him

"They said you've fully recovered but you might as well be a corpse." so by this point I think his body has recovered and he has managed to stabilize? But as this extra from the daydream hour shows he needed 24/7 care to stay alive in those first 18 years

Like she said he might as well be a corpse, he'd be in bed all day and have servants keeping him from dying, he would have fits where he would harm himself, he had no way to go on. It even says that even things that could remind him of his time as dungeon lord weren't allowed so he was probably being kept away from demon mentions (after all I doubt servants even knew about a demon)

But then when she mentions the demon he immediately gets up

She's surprised so I don't think she expected that, and she goes and uses that reaction to help him "Then first eat this. If you finish it all I'll take you to a dungeon again"

Rather than using him to fight the demon I think she's using the demon to help him live. Here's what his bio says

"After Mithrun was recused from the dungeon, he spent a while on the verge of death. However, with time and rehabilitation he gradually became able to lead a normal life again. The Utaya incident was the event that roused him. He thought, 'If I'd been there, I know I could have dealt with the demon somehow' and he resolved to return to active duty. (...)"

So it worked, Milsiril might have been there to help with his rehab but it was the Utaya situation that finally was able to motivate him to find a way to live and rejoin the canaries, so I think rather than setting him up to kill she realized it could be used to help him.

Which isn't a perfect solution, as you might know by the ending, his fate was to die either way: either he would die trying to kill the demon or he would defeat it and die because he had nothing else to live for.

But it was what Milsiril could do for him at that moment and it was how she managed to help him go forwards.

And that's my thoughts about Milsiril and Mithrun, I don't think they as big in each other's lives in canon as some people assume, there's barely a mention of Milsiril on his profile and she's barely named in his backstory. But they were both people that left a mark on each other's existence if only for a short time.

But I don't think Milsiril was just doing charity when helping Mithrun either, I imagine she did it because she saw herself in past Mithrun, and wanted to help him because of it.

Also side note, this extra:

That's past Mithrun saying she has ulterior motives, he isn't reliable and thinks badly of everyone. So ofc he thinks gloomy Milsiril is suspicious for helping, him doesn't mean it's true

Disclaimer again I'm a Milsiril stan so I'm very charitable in my interpretations of her, but hopefully you can see there's no indication she is someone who would use a sick person for revenge with the sources I've attached.

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

re: leaks

As the series comes to a close, I feel compelled to offer my perspective on leaks, my role in them, and how fandom has changed for the worse.

I understand that this post will probably come off as sanctimonious or emotional. That’s fine. The impending end has made everyone incredibly emotional, and I am no exception.

If you look at my blog, you’ll find that I very rarely mention anything about leaked chapters before their official release, and if I do, I tag clearly.

I want to say this outright: the manga chapters getting leaked is wrong.

It is both illegal and morally wrong.

Horikoshi-sensei chose to work with Shueisha to release MHA in Weekly Shonen Jump. They offered him terms for the production and sale of his story, and he accepted them. Shueisha contracts other companies, such as Viz, to release his work to a broader audience and increase his success. You may have reasonable objections to the workload of weekly manga, the pressure involved in running a popular shounen series, or the various publishing companies’ choices, but I strongly encourage you to avoid projecting these criticisms onto Horikoshi-sensei himself. He has expressed nothing but complete gratitude and respect for his team and colleagues, who have supported him in making his dream come true.

The exclusive first-release of his work through WSJ and its related publishers is one of his rights as a creator. He has the right to control how his work is first presented to the public.

I started reading leaks because I didn’t have access to the Japanese chapters. For a lot of reasons, I wanted to read the original chapters before a translation. Along the way I resolved this issue: I have a paid monthly subscription to Shonen Jump+. There are ways to do this outside Japan; if one wanted to contribute financially, it can be done. Regardless of what happens with leaks, I read the official release on their website every week. I recognize that I am an outlier; most people in the English-speaking fandom cannot read Japanese.

Every week, leaks stir up absolute chaos as misinterpretations and badly worded summaries produce patently false, random theories that then spread through the rumor mill of the internet. The same night, pikahlua posts their literal translations. I won’t speak for pika, these thoughts are wholly my own, but their literal translations provide the mha fandom an incredible service that:

combats rampant misinformation produced by leaks

enlightens the non-Japanese-speaking audience to linguistic and cultural nuances that present challenges in translation

facilitates deeper examination of and appreciation for the work as a whole

The first is damage control in the early days of the leak. The second is damage control during the subsequent days, as people argue back and forth about differences between the leaker translation and the official English release. The third is simply a great contribution to fandom. pika works really hard, and some of you have perhaps noticed them tagging me to thank me for providing assistance to them. I help out because, for me, if there is any contribution I can make towards improving readers’ understanding of the text and reducing the chaos that leaks have become, I feel some sense of duty to do so.

Fandom has changed. Modern leakers are not diehard underdogs bringing inaccessible art to a dedicated audience who wants to celebrate it. The Japanese release has a pricetag, but for six other languages, chapters are released online simultaneously every week for free. This kind of access is unparalleled. Leaks are fundamentally unnecessary. The fact that the fan scanlation comes out before the official release is a direct violation of Horikoshi-sensei’s wishes. I can't even put into words how disrespectful it is.

The leakers make the argument that if they didn’t leak the chapters, someone else would, but they personally made the choice to cultivate leaks as an event. They set the stage for how this works. They release the 15-some pages incredibly slowly, over a period of an hour or more, with page uploads delayed behind the summaries. If they receive the entire chapter at once, it really makes no sense to not just summarize the whole thing and schedule posts in tandem with each other in rapid succession. If they receive the pages at roughly the rate they post them, why don’t they just wait until they get the last page to begin?

The only reason to not do this, as far as I can tell, is to generate attention and earn a reputation for being first.

If they think the chapters will get leaked in some form anyway, why don’t they just let them happen and offer summaries to help? I know they must pay money to access these illegal goods, but if their intentions are honest, why don’t they acquire the leaks, translate them, and then release theirs—which you’d think could be of good, cohesive quality with extra time and care—only if somebody else puts out a shoddy upload first?

The leakers have twitter accounts with roughly 68,000 and 92,000 followers each. They manage a discord channel with over two thousand users. Hundreds of people post leaked pages untagged within minutes of the leak, commenting with wild guesses about what’s going on. I see people say that fan spaces feel empty between releases, and that’s because we’re all hyped up on leak juice, focusing all of our time and energy into this brief frenetic spell and then just waiting for the next high.

Many fandoms go on for decades after the series’ end. I think people are concerned mha’s fandom will vanish after the last chapter because when we consume at such a high rate, there may be no longevity to it. But no matter who else is with me, I’ll be here for as long as it makes me happy to do it.

Japanese fandom hates English-speaking fandom because of the leaks. They hate our asses and block us for posting spoilers, memes, and fanart based on leaked chapters before the real release. I see people be curious and try to peer into the Japanese fandom, to find out how the Japanese readership reacts to things, and I get why, but I just always feel sad and uncomfortable that we’re out here breaking the law, breaking the rules of fandom, and disrespecting the creator’s wishes, and then we still feel entitled to their spaces.

If the leakers didn’t release the chapters early to almost a hundred thousand people, maybe some random person would still get a hold of them. Maybe they’d still get spread around a little. But not like this. Not in a way that is impossible to avoid, impossible to quell, impossible to discourage.

I’m sad.

You can think this is stupid or judgmental or moralistic of me or whatever you want, but I’m sad.

Horikoshi-sensei's ending will get filtered through a bad summary and messy translations before he gets to release it properly on his own terms. I've tried to help clean up the mess they make every week, but it never feels like enough.

Every shred of attention just fuels the fire no one is willing to put out.

And I feel very little else except sorry for it.

[yumeka-sxf]

Thoughts on Spy x Family: Family Portrait

I finally got around to reading the SxF light novel, Family Portrait...and I mean "finally" because it's literally been sitting in my shelf since it was first released in English back in December of last year! I was distracted by Code White and the SxF video game which came out around the same time, but even long after that, I was having trouble getting motivated to read it. For some reason, experiencing SxF in novel format instead of in anime/manga just didn't appeal to me, plus the fact that it's not written by Endo himself (these weird preferences of mine are also why I'm not into reading fanfics either). Don't get me wrong, in general I love reading stories in prose form too, but for a series like SxF that already has such an established visual identity, it doesn't feel as "authentic" to me if that makes any sense. But I did want to read it eventually, since it is an official part of SxF media and Endo did the illustrations and does acknowledge the book (he wrote a nice afterword at the end). So I finally sat down and read it in sections over the course of this week! I'll share my brief thoughts on each of the contained stories:

Novel Mission 1

Since this was the first story in the book, it took me a while to get used to experiencing the world of SxF in novel form. There were some things I felt would have been better conveyed in anime/manga, for example, one of the very first gags about Yor misinterpreting Anya's nature class as some sort of hardcore outdoor survival trip. As I was reading that part I was like "I get the joke, but it would have been funnier if I actually saw these images and the characters' expressions with Endo's comedic illustrations." It was also a bit jarring to hear the characters thoughts and feelings from third-person narration, but I got used to it. As for the story itself, it was Damianya focused, something I'm not particularly into, but I don't mind it either. I liked the rare, soft Damian moments, and the thing with the squirrel eating Anya's peanut trail was funny. I also liked the scene at the beginning where Loid and Yor feed Bond together while Anya watches.

Novel Mission 2

Oddly, this was my favorite of the stories! Of all the characters, I think the author nailed Yuri's unhinged thoughts the best - as I was reading, I couldn't help but hear every cringe thought in his voice, which is a good sign of how well the author gets the character! I actually chuckled at a few parts too, both from his insane Yor-obsessed and anti-Loid musings, as well as from his banter with Anya. The police interrogation scene was great and would be even better if it ever gets animated! I also found it interesting that this story has the first instance where we find out what Yuri thinks about Bond (that he's fat and useless - rude!) Also his first time hearing about Franky apparently...makes we wonder if Endo will make him feel the same way if these things ever come up in the manga.

Novel Mission 3

I liked this story a lot too! I think it worked the best in novel format out of all of them, probably because it was more focused on drama and emotions than comedy. It's ironic that the two official SxF stories that feature the deeper side of Franky's character - this one and the omake chapter from volume 13 - are both not even part of the main canon! Alessa would have definitely accepted Franky's job as an informant, but he felt that someone like her should only be surrounded by "beautiful things." The poor man really needs to see that inner beauty matters too, and he has that! I also think he should have swallowed his pride and told Loid the real reason why he wanted the disguise...not that it would have changed the outcome. Poor Franky.

Novel Mission 4

This was a cute Forger-focused story, but like the first one, I felt it had parts that would have been more effective in anime/manga form, for example, "hair monster" Yor and whatever hideous painting Felix ended up making! But despite that, it was still funny and cute. Though I do think the author went a tad overboard with Yor's flustered antics...they just kept going and going, lol. Also, like the movie, we have another scenario of Loid getting flung into the air by Yor but landing gracefully on his feet (though this instance was much tamer since she wasn't drunk and only pushed him instead of hit him). Again, maybe I would have appreciated the humor in this story better if I saw it in anime/manga with Endo's hilarious designs and expressions, but for what it was, it was enjoyable enough.

Short Novel

This extra short story would be perfect as a reintroduction story for a future anime season...maybe one day!

-----

Overall, the Family Portrait novel is a nice addition to the Spy x Family universe. Even though I feel the humor in the series is most effective in illustrated form, it's still nice to have more stories in the canon, especially ones that show new sides to the characters, like the Franky and Yuri stories. Like the movie, it's debatable if this novel should be considered true canon or not, but personally, I don't find anything in it that contradicts canon, at least not yet. So yeah, definitely check out the novel if you haven't already! 😁

[fight-nights-at-freddys]

back at it on r/antiship. for the hell of it, let's go thru why these are strawman arguments at best, stupid at worst, or why what they're saying is objectively true!

TL;DR, half of the things they say are correct, but are framed as being bad things, and the other half is just misinterpreting what proshippers actually say. also they don't know what "normalization" or "romanticization" mean.

hiding under the cut so y'all don't gotta scroll for years

-first pic- that isn't the reason conservatives think lgbt ppl are pedos. they'd think that regardless of what fiction they like, because no matter what, they'd see us as predators/pedos/whatever bad thing. q art will always be inherently problematic to conservatives.

the reason WHY people equate "problematic" fanfic/art to q art is because they both deserve to be protected, they both are often called "degenerate", and that if they censor one, they'll censor both, because to the people that want to censor it, they're both one and the same. it's always "too sexual", or "what if kids see it", or "it promotes the Bad Thing", and just because they're pointing the gun at "problematic" fiction rn, doesn't mean they won't turn the gun on YOU.

-second pic- 1. fiction doesn't affect reality! at least not on a 1:1 basis! correct! 2. that is also correct! i can be interested in violent, gory movies, but i don't like OR condone violence or gore irl! correct! 3. if it walks, talks, and acts like a puritan, it's probably a puritan. stop advocating for censorship and puritanism and we won't call you that. 4. correct again! it isn't mine or anyone else's job to monitor what other people's kids do on the internet. the internet is not for children. 5. hate to say it, because i don't wanna say ANYONE protects predators, but antis do tend to create spaces where preds can sneak around undetected as long as they say The Right Thing™. 6. if you're allowing your 6 yr old to watch videos that say "fluttershy supports MAPs!", then you need to take away the ipad, not start banning shit. 7. gonna keep it real, idk what this means. stop using these words, i guarantee you they don't mean what you think they mean. 8. same as above 9. what 10. okay great, good for you that you only know ONE predator that's an anti. what about the hundreds of others that lurk in the shadows because they say the right thing, and pretend not to like problematic stuff? what about Kyle Carrozza, ya know, the anti that was arrested not too long ago? feel like we're ignoring some stuff here for the sake of pretending your side's good, and ours is bad.

-third pic- 1. well, antis are, aren't they? if you think csem should be criminalized (and it should), and you equate fanart to actual csem, then yes, you ARE trying to criminalize fantasy. 2. two things. for one, it's not always a sexual thing. hell, half the time it isn't. and two, fetishes DON'T hurt anyone (unless the whole point is to hurt someone, but there's always consent!) 3. correct! fictional characters don't have rights. are you advocating for them to? 4. you can't act like porn abolition isn't a cornerstone argument for A LOT of antis. if you agree that fictional smut is bad, chances are you think porn's bad, too. (which also overlaps with radfem beliefs too!) 5. they're not blood related because they're NOT REAL. it doesn't matter if they say they're blood related, because they're fictional. 6. are you insinuating you need to get consent from these fictional characters before you ship them? 7. why should i care? does it hurt anyone? no. does it do any damage? no. is there any downside whatsoever? no? then what does it matter. let people do what they want forever.

[astrologicalsstuff]

Some more

Astrology observations

Scorpio risings causing drama without even meaning to

Capricorns are the hottest placement sun and rising

Everyone says it’s probably Leo or libra or Taurus but Capricorns have this I’m hot and it doesn’t matter energy. Like those placements know they’re hot. They got the bone structure and legs

Everyone thinks it’s Scorpio but I would NOT WANT TO MAKE AN AQUARIUS ANGRY. These people can be calculated and smart. They don’t feel in the same way other people do typically so they can really whip out some unwarranted shit.

Aries moons going 0 to 100 in half a second.

Virgo aries combos especially Virgo sun aries moon or Virgo rising aries… acting first thinking later and regretting everything:((( these can be some very… stimulated people.

Cancer Leo Taurus in the big three loyal and selfless with a dash of manipulation

Leo Venus will like you and still make you chase for a year you’d better be ready to chase!

Venus in the second know their self worth.

Mercury in Pisces/Sagittarius or in the 9th or 12th house how’s that ADD/ADHD??

Cancer stellium/ Virgo stellium with those stomach problems.

Where your 6th house ruler sits is how your health shows up. 6th house ruler in the third might need glasses or have hand problems. 6th ruler in the 12th might have mental health problems. 6th ruler in the 5th watch your heart.

Aquarius moons are so chill if your not tryna have a relationship with them and humble too. Like they won’t start shit.

Neptune in fire houses (1 5 & 9) have the reputation of being mysterious but isn’t as mysterious as everyone thinks, they don’t really know themselves either lol.

Further, neptune in the first just doesn’t see themselves the way you see them

Neptune in the 5th probably have identity issues, people like them better on drugs. Struggle to see themselves the way others see them causing misinterpretations

Neptune in the 9th people don’t see the spirits on your side lol. Maybe people don’t see that you can see through them

Saturns not all bad, in houses where you must acquire (earth houses 2 6 10)

Moon in the ascendant will have children especially with planets in the 5th.

Capricorn or Saturn in the 5th may have a hard time conceiving or having children

Uranus in the 5th… just make sure you wrap it cause get ready for those unexpected pregnancies. Also what’s up with those one night stands??

Neptune in the 11th most likely means friends at a distance or friendships where you do a lot of drugs and alcohol. Friends Can be artists as well. Best case I think these people are celebrities and connect with masses online.

Mars in Leo are HORNY and loud about it

Pluto in the third can cut people with their words

Moon in the 10th makes people comfortable around you yet a distance between you and other people?

Neptune in the 10th where’s your dad lol?

12th house ruler in the 10th everyone talks about you behind your back so much gossip

Virgo men lowk like it when you call them out🫢🫢

Pisces moons can’t stop lying huh? Like you don’t even know why your doing it

Virgo rising s are so hot. Like subtle beauty look good without makeup.

Virgo sun women’s personality is basically just whatever copies and compliments their best friend…

Fire sign moons are soo DRAMATIC

Moon in first = heart in sleeve

Thanks for reading let me know what you think please don’t copy my information!

[liketwoswansinbalance]

What if Rafal couldn't save Rhian in time? Like Vulcan successfully stabbed him with the pen before Rafal could prevent it?

The comedic answer is that I have one word for you: gibbeting.

That's the more "fun" answer, a form of medieval execution/torture, which was specifically intended to make an example of someone, publicly, to deter further criminal acts, and if Vulcan murdered Rhian, well, he deserves the worst death possible! And why not make it a creative one? However, I think, to an extent, that gibbeting could be too extreme, and that Rafal would recognize that if Rhian were alive, he'd view it as an eyesore, tasteless, or simply too brutal, so it's probably unlikely to happen. But, Rafal might not be above it, considering that the Doom Room exists, so it could go either way, potentially.

Plus, there's some added, bonus "fun" here, in how a certain canon moment would come full circle. Vulcan put Rafal in a birdcage (while he was a black sparrow), and now, Rafal would get the pleasure of hanging Vulcan (or rather, his slowly dying and later, decomposing body) up in a cage, a pretty neat form of revenge, if I do say so myself, haha! Besides, Vulcan was a bit exhibitionistic, wasn't he? So, this would also make for an ironical fate.

⸻

Now for the serious answer. I hope you don't mind it if I get a little more subjective/personal with this one at some point. It's not quite as much an overblown, narrative-style post, and may be more understated than usual.

I took this "what if" ask to essentially mean: how would Rafal react to Rhian's death and how would he mourn Rhian over time? If I misinterpreted your ask, and this wasn't the kind of response you were expecting, please let me know. Also, everything is speculative, of course, so take my interpretations with a grain of salt. I'm open to hearing other opinions!

I think Rafal's immediate, knee-jerk reaction would probably be to murder Vulcan as revenge, but also it would serve the more practical reason of disposing of the tyrant usurper, ousting him from the School permanently. However, I don't think Rafal would find catharsis in it, not this time at least, considering why he is doing it.

He'd have to act on his feet, and quickly, because, Vulcan would still pose a threat to his own life, which would force Rafal to delay any kind of visceral, emotional reaction.

That is why I think the murder would be done instantaneously because speed is more important, and so is getting the task done right. And, having Vulcan dead sooner for everyone's safety is more important than the potential brutality of any kind of gruesome catharsis Rafal could derive from the act. That's why I think Rafal would go about performing this particular murder in a less sadistic fashion, for once, like how Vulcan died in canon by a stab wound, versus the time when Rafal turned Rufius to gold and shattered him, or did worse to others, generally. If Vulcan had simply been a foe who was already incapacitated, that could've given Rafal the opportunity to go for a worse form of murder, but Vulcan isn't harmless.

Thus, employing a "kinder" form of murder in this instance wouldn't be out of sympathy for Vulcan, but more so, to fulfill an urgent need. And, in some sense, the act of murder would be done out of a kind of duty to Rhian, for Rhian's sake and nothing more. I think Rafal deriving pleasure/catharsis out of this murder could possibly be a bit of a slight to Rhian's memory because this is somber business.

Then, after that adrenaline or rage-fueled clarity and the action taken, I think Rafal would next probably feel some kind of uncomprehending fog next because Rhian was suddenly ripped away from him with little warning. His supposedly immortal brother, who was supposed to be with him forever, just died. To an extent, that has to feel surreal.

The surreal feeling could start out as a detached, dissociated feeling, like the kind of out-of-body experience where you're like a third-person observer, (probably a similar feeling as a panic attack?) Like, what? What has my life become? Rhian is suddenly gone, for good.

(The revelation of Rhian's death being real could also prompt a lot of thought as to why their bond wasn't able to save or revive Rhian, and could evoke guilt.)

Once Rafal processes the implications of Rhian's death, his initial outburst could be the most, actual, unbridled emotion he lets out, at all, if ever—maybe, one raw, primal scream of agony into the ether and that’s it. (Yet, I'm also tempted to say, that's too dramatic of a reaction, even for him. As interesting as it is to go to extremes in other cases, I'm attempting to go for something closer to realism here, so bear with me.)

While there is probably a narrow chance, that under the exact, right conditions, he could be driven insane or become an extremist in some way, out of guilt or by how ridiculously unjust the whole situation would be, I think it's a little more plausible that Rafal would just bury himself in his work. He could devote his life to Evil, and still keep it in balance with Good, without Rhian there to keep him in check, even if he was more often the one to keep Rhian in check, from what we saw. (He could also become disillusioned with the world and the Pen.)

Given how I view Rafal, I think he would shut down emotionally but not functionally. He wouldn't let himself dwell on the grief for long, and he might even (irrationally) resent Rhian for dying, at first, on the surface, because he's now got twice the work. And yet, the work would be a welcome distraction from his actual grief.

Additionally, I think Rafal would become numb and immune to all emotional appeals from other people. Not even a trick like Hook reminding him of Rhian would work to convince him to change his mind that he's already made up in any future instance. He's never, never investing himself in the fate of another person again. Not when he could lose them. He just... does his job. Someone has to do it after all.

That said, I think his paranoia level would absolutely skyrocket, too, as a result of the whole Vulcan incident, and that he'd isolate himself more than he already did before.

Now comes the part where this may or may not take a weird turn, and I could be projecting with what I'm about to say, but I think I have actual reason to apply it to Rafal, purely out of thinking it could make sense for him, (as just one of the many possible ways he could take Rhian's death. Again, this is all just my speculation. I could easily be wrong, so keep that in mind.)

Ok, I'm not sure if this is a common or a weird thing to think and I had a feeling it could be controversial. Thus, I'm going to preface it with this: my intention is not to sound callous, but...

I (usually) do not miss people when they are gone. (Death is different from just absence though.)

I doubt that I "miss" people in what is the typical way, from what I have heard from others? Though, I have an explanation. Obviously, it depends, but missing others doesn't occupy my every waking thought. (And thoughts about fictional characters are a different type of thought to arise.)

I feel others' presence when they’re around, and when they’re not around, unless I'm concerned for them, I don’t exactly think about them. It's kind of "out of sight, out of mind," except for the cases in which I actually am holding something to say to them in mind for our next encounter.

I’m sorry if this is strange, but I think that’s how I operate most of the time. I don't "wait around" for people to return because I always have some thing to occupy myself with. Can anyone relate?

I suspect that the reason why is because, to me, missing someone is what I would classify as an active feeling. When someone I love is apart from me, I'm usually busy, regardless of whether they're present or not (that doesn't change), and I know that when you're busy, you don't have the time to feel, at least not active emotions. They just... don't occur to you? Or maybe they are not conscious?

Now, from my view of things, if something you feel becomes a problem, and interferes with your daily functioning or general contentment with everyday life, that could very well surface as a real reaction or outburst. But, that's an entirely different matter. I also think that I am reminded of people at times, but that I usually don't "miss" them without there being some kind of (internal or external) stimuli that causes me to think about them.

Maybe, I'm just projecting onto Rafal too much because I relate to him over other characters, and this is silly, or junk psychoanalysis, but it seemed to fit his character also???

Sometimes, I just want recognition more than I want actual companionship since I don't get lonely. I wonder what that says about me? That I'm an introvert, or lazy because relationships require regular maintenance to sustain them? I promise I'm not a misanthrope!

Ok, back to Rafal. He's sunken himself into his work and as such, he wouldn't actively miss Rhian. (If anyone would like more clarification, I'm not saying he wouldn't grieve Rhian at all. It's not that.)

And, if we're going down a more realistic than dramatic route, he wouldn’t lose his sense of self, or his mind over Rhian. Yes, not even Rhian. I think the only thing keeping him running and tethered to his life would be his commitment to the School/keeping himself alive.

What this makes me think of is how people romanticize grief or unrequited love, how they may end up looking wan and eventually wasting away (well, if we're talking about being heartsick in literary/symbolic contexts...). And, I just don't think Rafal would be the type of person to fall into some kind of "madness" or melancholic malady. Grief just wouldn’t be so debilitating or all-consuming to him because he wouldn’t let it do that to him. He wouldn’t stop eating or sleeping as I would expect these behaviors more from someone like Rhian, not him.

Similarly, he might not indulge in pleasurable things, but he’s a bit of an ascetic already anyway, so that’s that. He could potentially renounce pleasurable things in life out of mourning, in a traditional way, but I doubt that would happen either, to be honest. It probably wouldn't cross his mind. At least, it wouldn't happen on a formal, conscious level, even if he could very well deprive himself without realizing it.

I just don't think Rafal would be engulfed by grief, simply because he isn’t that much of an emotionally driven person or that vulnerable to being swept up by personal tragedy, when compared to Rhian, who's more "wild." He’d only let his grief manifest so far, assuming his emotions do still remained locked down and under his control.

So, while he may think about Rhian regularly, he might just accept the fact of Rhian's death, carry on, and not miss him because Rafal missing Rhian could (implicitly) mean becoming non-functional due to grief (or guilt) and that would be too great of a risk for Rafal to take, considering his current reality alone. Basically, to let himself wallow in those emotions would be an unnecessary "risk," from his viewpoint. That's why he might repress that reflective type of thought.

Such feelings would be too much mess or potential disorder for someone like him, especially if he realized he couldn't keep them contained, and they, as a consequence, actually jeopardized his fate or the School's, assuming the grief made him unable to perform his job properly.

(He'd probably subtly resent the Storian as well, for not preserving Rhian's life.)

Also, one small point: in canon, was his bond with Rhian really, truly all-consuming? Let's stop and ask ourselves that for a moment.

Yes, for a time, their bond may have seemed like it was priority no. 1, but Rafal was apart from Rhian for six months, and might not have consciously missed him, if it took him that long to return after getting an external reminder from his interactions with Hook. It might have taken something outside of himself (like the prophecy) for him to come to the realization that he had to return and reestablish his loyalty to Rhian (which was arguably never gone, just dormant for a while). And this would mean that if left alone to his own devices, had he never been moved by James, or "awakened" and been made aware by Adela Sader, he could have taken longer than even six months to return... if he ever decided to at all, if the thought ever arose in the first place.

So, overall, it would only be rarely, when he has nothing to occupy himself with, that Rafal would grieve in some quiet way, and over time, the grief would fade. It wouldn't leave him entirely, but it would diminish, I think, the more and more he distances himself from everything else.

Also, in canon, I suspect that he lies to himself about how much he cares for Rhian. He never shows Rhian much affection, but he sacrifices his life for him, on instinct, which probably means a grieving Rafal would also lie to himself about how “little” he mourns Rhian. In reality, he’d probably mourn Rhian a great deal more than he could know, but wouldn’t have enough self-awareness to realize it.

Perhaps, at night, he would be haunted by Rhian's memory, and take on Rhian's insomniac trait on occasion. Also, to credit @cursed-daydreamer, I think it would be plausible for Rafal to take on a few of Rhian's traits, unconsciously, to compensate for the loss, and fill his void; it could be a way of keeping Rhian's presence in his life.

Lastly, I doubt that Rafal would publicly erect monuments or dedicate anything to Rhian. He wouldn’t want a painful, visual reminder around. His rituals, if we were to call them that, any form of remembrance, I mean, would likely be private, away from prying eyes and students. Rafal wouldn't want to come across as weak or sentimental. That’s the last thing he needs at the moment, a ruined reputation, another so-called threat to his own life/power. Because, increased paranoia could lead him to believe that if he were to show any sign of vulnerability, more "Vulcans" could prey on him and the School.

He could maintain the cherry blossom trees though, but it'd always be a sobering occasion, and he'd never take the credit.

Besides that, he probably wouldn’t go eulogizing his brother or canonizing him. He can still recognize Rhian's flaws, and to praise Rhian so completely would be "too much," too public, and the performative (or contrived) nature of certain mourning customs like those would probably strike him as "wrong" because they just seem... insincere. I don't think Nevers (if we're assuming Rafal remains Evil) put as much much stock in praise anyway, according to their value system.

The exception to the rule would probably be if he recognized that it would be Rhian's wish, to receive some recognition or a dedication. Then, he would do it, out of reverence, I think. He'd have reason to "excuse" it (Rhian's dying wishes), unlike visible emotions, which don't have an excuse to be felt.

⸻

Also, I was wondering: does anyone agree or disagree? I'm really curious because this ask provoked a train of thought I'd never considered before!

[utilitycaster]

Hi there, I saw in one of your tags recently that "if you think the raven queen was being unfair, I'm not really interested in your opinions." I was wondering if you could talk a little more about that because I'll be honest, Vax isn't my favorite character but I've seen all of C1 and I really don't get why some people HATE the RQ, call her unfair, manipulative and pretty plainly say this moon conflict is mostly her fault because she took Vax and through a Domino effect Ludinus is releasing Predathos. Also, I enjoy your theories and analysis for CR so much you got me listening to Midst, so thank you.

Hi anon,

Great question! This is going to be a very long post, with a relatively short initial answer, because there is both the literal misinterpretation that indicates this is not someone with strong analytical skills nor knowledge of canon, and a number of potential mindsets that lead to this manner of thinking in the first place, none of which I respect. You happen to have sort of hit upon the foundational elements of my whole deal re: CR meta, so, buckle in.

The first part is simple: Vex died because Percy triggered a trap before she'd been healed up. We've seen this sort of trap elsewhere in non-divine contexts (Folding Halls of Halas); it's just a form of trap. A particularly nasty one, but this is for a very powerful relic she doesn't want falling into the wrong hands, and, moreover, the party could have likely disabled it either through rogue skills or magic had Percy waited. Vax, then, as the third part of the resurrection ritual, told the Raven Queen to take him instead of Vex. The Raven Queen did precisely as he asked. He did not need to offer this (Scanlan was going to make an offering, the other parts of the ritual had gone well, it was Vex's first death so the DC was low, and Vax could have made any number of other, less dramatic offers), and he did so with the understanding that he would die in lieu of Vex, right then and there. He did not. I think that's the only case, actually, where the Raven Queen was not 100% upfront with her intentions before Vax accepted something; but he offered it voluntarily. Vax was a person who formed extremely intense connections, to the point where it was perhaps unhealthy, and did not believe life without his sister was worth living, and was willing to sacrifice himself to a god.

Everything after that was extremely straightforward. Vax communed with the Raven Queen, who spoke very directly with him in his vision in the Raven's Crest. She was extremely clear when she met with him following his disintegration: he was given the option to refuse her offer, and he took it instead. It is not manipulative to give someone a difficult decision, and if a character you like makes a choice you don't like, it is not automatically the result of manipulation.

As for the moon conflict being her fault…that is, to put it bluntly, unhinged, and what's more, ironic given that that's the manipulative argument. Ludinus tried to commune with Ruidus using a random crystalline artifact beneath Molaesmyr, centuries before Vax was born. He was going to do this regardless. If he couldn't get Vax, he'd get some other sliver of divinity, and what's more, it's been all but stated that Vax is not actually supposed to be leaving the Shadowfell to protect Keyleth, and is disobeying the Raven Queen directly (and it's been stated that this isn't necessarily helpful for Keyleth, who is trying to grieve and move on). So: Vax made his choices with the knowledge of what they entailed, is trying to bend if not break the conditions to which he agreed with full knowledge in a way that probably isn't healthy for him or Keyleth, and it's bananas to be like "wow look at how the Raven Queen made Ludinus try to free Predathos." Like. Even if she had tricked Vax, which she didn't, Ludinus literally could have just kept on his racist imperialistic longevitymaxxing beat indefinitely and left the moon well enough alone. The domino meme is a meme. I mean, while we're at it, couldn't we trace it back to Vecna instead, for killing Vax with Disintegrate in the first place, since had he not done so, Vax would have either survived that fight or would have been resurrected normally? Or perhaps it's Percy for triggering that trap. Or the Chroma Conclave for being the reason why Vox Machina was seeking the Deathwalker's Ward in the first place…but that only happened because Allura and Kima didn't kill Thordak but rather sealed him, and because a priestess of Melora cursed Raishan so that she had reason to ally with Thordak. We can go on indefinitely; the point is, to assign blame specifically to the Raven Queen when Ludinus literally did not have to do a goddamn thing with the moon is a fucking stupid take.

Below the cut, I talk root causes behind why people might decide the Raven Queen was unfair and come up with the above nonsensical argument to support that, since I don't think people say stupid things just to be stupid.

I think one root cause for this mentality of this is that the person in question wishes Vax hadn't died and is looking for someone to blame because they don't want to blame Matt Mercer and Liam O'Brien, even though yeah, that's who to blame. The thing is, as we learned in Campaign 2, character death is quite literally on the table. Had Vax not made his bargain, either in episode 1x103 or his original one during Vex's resurrection? He might have simply remained dead. Had he not given his life for Vex's, he was pursuing paladin anyway with the Everlight, and we don't know what she'd have required of him. But more importantly, for all people like to bring up a PC-centric perspective (which, in Actual Play, is inevitable) Vox Machina's frequent use of resurrection spells was in fact a massive privilege most people in Exandria do not have. And, unsurprisingly for a table whose DM made up rules specifically to make resurrection more difficult, the Critical Role cast is open to a story where death exists. I do not think it's an accident that resurrection has been made even harder in the subsequent campaigns. I also happen to think that Campaign 1 is a far richer and better story with Vax's death, given the other events that occurred. Had Vax not been the sort of person who would offer his life for a god to take in exchange for his sister? Sure, he'd possibly have lived to the end. But he was, and that's the character those people who wish he were still alive loved. If he wasn't that person, they wouldn't have liked him in the same way.

D&D is fundamentally about exceptional characters becoming more powerful, and will be focused on those characters. I do not think D&D supports a story about characters who reject all power. They can give up political power (the Mighty Nein, for the most part, do this - certainly more so than Vox Machina, and Bells Hells is yet to be seen) but they will progress in levels, which is power. Even if unwanted, it is power, because most people in the world are commoners with 5 HP and 10 in all their stats. With that said, a lot of people desperately want a subversion of this power narrative. Vax is, I think, the closest we get. In D&D you are not going to get a player character who finishes a campaign and remains Just Some Guy. But you can have someone like Vax, who doesn't have any interest in power (compare to Vex, who very much is about power and who gets a much happier ending) who nonetheless ends up on the Tal'Dorei Council and the favored of a god…and yet, in the end, his equally powerful friends still can do nothing to save him. I think a Power Bad story is overly simplistic, but "there are limits to power, and ultimately none of us have complete control" is not. I think Vax's death gives the story of Vox Machina a finality and heft that it would lack otherwise.

A second possible cause is the "What if the gods are BAD" argument. I'm going to be totally honest: I did not see this in the fandom until Campaign 3, and honestly, not until EXU Calamity in any widespread sense, which does lead me to believe that most people did not come up with it as a reasonable idea on their own until characters started saying it, because it is so plainly in conflict with the themes of Campaigns 1 and 2 that to make this argument would be obvious projection. Do I think a nuanced view of the gods as flawed beings, rather than perfection, is warranted? Absolutely. Mortals, too, are flawed, and we don't kill them all for it. I think Vax's story makes them uncomfortable because it makes it clear divine favor is not, as Ludinus Da'leth tries to argue, the gods just bestowing and withholding their gifts arbitrarily, but rather that divine favor comes with a divine responsibility as well. Clerics and paladins do not study the way wizards do; but they must live lives in service, whereas a wizard can shut the book at the end of the day and do whatever. Clerics and paladins have powers that can be taken away; a wizard does not. That's the fundamental concept behind the Age of Arcanum - wizards trying to get around the fundamental rules of this world! Vax's paladin powers came at a price. His options are guided, but also limited, by the oath he took. He is far more fettered than a wizard, in the end, and I think that fucks with the narrative of the gods cruelly withholding their gifts from all but a select few, so they instead make their gifts into manipulative punishments…while still, contradictorily, arguing that characters such as Laudna or Ashton or Imogen were denied the mercy of the gods. Now, setting aside the obvious, that these characters have their backstories because Marisha and Taliesin and Laura decided they would because this is a story, and one in which someone had a perfect life would be boring and so the gods didn't intervene with Laudna because Marisha Ray wanted to play a Sun Tree corpse (see next section), it really is fascinating to see how people who hate the Raven Queen so neatly align with Ludinus. It's fine for sorcerers to have inborn powers, apparently, and Ludinus actually has himself tried to ape druidic magic; it's not about power, it's just about that power source. Honestly, they're not even above the gods as a power source - Ludinus used the crystal beneath Molaesmyr seemingly unaware if it were of the Archheart, and he's demonstrably using Vax, and everyone loves a resurrection from the gods, but heaven forbid you pay someone for the work you feel yourself entitled to. (Entitlement: this will also be a theme throughout the rant portion of this post.)

As a brief subsection to this: the idea that bad things happen to good people because the other side of that coin is free will is an ancient theological and philosophical discussion, and one we are obviously not going to solve here, though it is a little depressing I have had multiple rewarding conversations on this topic, thanks to an academically rigorous religious education, starting from the tender age of 9, and a lot of adults on Tumblr seemingly can't engage on the level of my third-grade classmates. I think, however, it tells a truth that fits in well with the wizard (and entitled fan) desire to control everything. People are terrified of random forces. Cancer, for example, is a matter of probability. There are things that can increase your chances of developing cancer, to be sure, but the simile I used when I was taught about radiation-induced cancers was that of lottery tickets: if you buy more, you have a better chance; but sometimes someone who bought a single ticket "wins" and someone who bought a ticket weekly never does. By believing the gods of Exandria are on trial for not intervening with every little hardship or for not taking Vax precisely as he intended, they reveal a profound terror of random chance and of the free will of people who are not them. Which is very funny when you consider we're watching Actual Play, where random chance is a deliberately induced element. I think the takeaway of all of this is "I think some of you guys are really mad this is a D&D game." But let's continue.

The third, and honestly most likely cause, is honestly sort of a continuation of the first but not centered around Vax so much as just a general, in my opinion deeply childish discomfort of any sort of tragedy or unhappiness in fiction. I've noticed this a lot lately, and I am not a cultural critic and don't have a high enough level view to pretend to be one, but as others have noted a lot of people seem affronted when whatever show they are currently watching does not meet their specific standards of "comfort media" or "hopepunk." It's a self-infantilization I don't care for, and it's certainly not limited to the CR fandom (see: any grown-ass adult passionately defending a choice to only watch children's cartoons and only read YA) or even fandom at all (see: the baffling popularity of the Mr. Rogers "look for the helpers" line which was intended for anxious young children, not for adults who can and should be the helpers). It really came into focus for me with CR when people referred to both EXU Calamity and to Candela Obscura's Circle of Needle and Thread as specifically "hopeless." They are, to me, deeply hopeful series. They are sad, and tragic, and many characters do not get a happy ending, but they are ultimately about how some people will endure, and will live on and find meaning after great loss. Calamity explicitly states that because of the actions of the heroes, while devastation will occur, total annihilation is mitigated. It's like the adage of how courage only means something in the face of fear; hope only means something in the face of darkness. Happy and fluffy tales are not hopeful; they are merely not things that require you to have hope. The root word of catharsis is that of cleansing and purgation and it originally related to physical excretion - cathartic stories are about getting those complicated and ugly emotions and fears out and feeling better for it by briefly feeling, perhaps, worse! Now, again, this has worsened with Vax's story with time. Shortly after Campaign 1, it was very common to see stories where Vex or Keyleth were utterly distraught, indefinitely, but those at least were engaging with grief, even if in a very shallow and unproductive way. But this has morphed into this idea that the fact that a work of fiction might make you even feel sadness makes it bad, and wrong, and hopeless, and the machinations of a cruel and heartless god. Which brings me back to the entitlement narrative: it's really as simple as "the story didn't give me what I wanted (whether that was a happy ending for Vax, or for Keyleth, or just a lack of sadness generally, or a narrative about the gods that validates my personal beliefs, or a way to justify Ludinus's actions), so it is bad." Which again is about being in control of the narrative, which again, in D&D, is simply not something anyone can claim. Why are these people here watching a D&D game? I don't know.

So that's really it: on a basic level, if you think the Raven Queen is unfair, you are profoundly ignorant of canon, so I'm already going to have to fact check anything you cite (if you cite at all), but there's a much deeper refusal to meet stories where they are and expand one's own comfort zone at play, and that means any analysis will never consider the possibility that your pre-existing beliefs were wrong (absolutely crucial in meta). You will always play it too safe and be uninspired and reactionary because the alternative is uncertainty and fear. I think a refusal to embrace tragedy in fiction is itself a profound tragedy; that is someone who is terrified to believe that life goes on.

[traegorn]

Hey-o! Tis the season for people to talk about how the holidays were "actually pagan" and I'm on the hunt for sources about how that's really not the case, if you have any you'd recommend!

Okay, so the problem is there are so many weird "Christmas is stolen!" bullshit memes going around, it's so hard to just give you a comprehensive list of sources. Christmas celebrations have evolved as the religion has spread, and different things come from different times...

The key here is to go for academic sources. This is a question of history, and a well supported historical research is going to tell you whether they're operating from primary, secondary or tertiary sources.

So while I can't give you a simple list, let me give you a couple of examples off the top of my head and give you tips on how to investigate any the dumb claims that get passed around.

Christmas being in December: So a lot of people go for the "Christmas is in December so it can steal from [INSERT SOLSTICE CELBRATION]" is ahistorical... because we know exactly why Christmas is in December. Because the guys who made the decision argued with each other and left behind written documentation. The two big names you need to look up are  Clement of Alexandria (who pitched January 6th) and Hippolytus of Rome (who proposed December 25th). This is around the turn of the third century, and you can find both of their writings. Some folks have questioned the authenticity of some of Hippolytus of Rome's writings, but Clement of Alexandria's seem well supported. These were internal arguments about when the birth of Christ took place within the early church, and when they settled on late December. There are reasons for this, and you can read their arguments (it largely has to do with the importance of when Jesus was conceived -- they wanted that to be an important date and then added nine months to it). Importantly though, because linear time is a thing, this means Christmas was set in December before the Christianization of the Germanic and Norse tribes... so anyone who says Christmas was set to December to correspond with Yule doesn't understand the concept of "coincidences."

The Christmas Tree: The Christmas tree was invented in 16th century Germany. That's... that's just written down all over the place. Now, there are legends about Martin Luther being the first who did it -- but I'm pretty certain that's just an embellishment that got added on. There are preceding traditions where part of an evergreen was brought into the home as a part of solstice traditions (though some will claim the Egyptians did this? Which is wild -- likely misinterpreting their use of palm fronds as the same thing), but the act of taking a whole ass tree, cutting it down, putting it in your house, and decorating it? That's 16th century Germany all the way. You can rabbit hole so many sources on that one, but honestly just pick apart the citations on the Wikipedia page. Putting a branch in your house and dragging a whole tree in are very different acts.

Jesus's story is copied from [INSERT RANDOM GOD]: There are so many of these, and some are just downright disrespectful to major world religions (the Krishna version of the meme especially). The answer is... just see if what the meme is saying about the god is supported by the mythology. Like I've seen ones that says Dionysus was "born of a virgin." If you know anything about the Greek gods, you're probably already laughing on the floor. Horus gets dragged into this too, because Gerald Massey was trying to pull a "White Goddess but with Dudes." But any serious research on Horus will tell you the supposed parallels aren't supported by the mythology.

So sorry, this wasn't so much sources you can use as it is how to look for them to begin with. Because there's just so, so much. This isn't even covering cases of syncretism, where pre-existing cultural traditions got continued post-Christianization. Because it's almost always the case that if a pre-Christian practice endured post Christianization, it's because people decided to keep doing it -- not because the church was trying to "steal" it. The latter means there was some mustache twirling plan behind it, when the former means (usually) the church went "Well, they're paying their tithes and saying it's for Jesus, so who gives a shit?"

I'm just going to finish this off with linking to my podcast episode on this, along with Ocean Keltoi's great Yule video on the topic. Hopefully that helps.

[nenilein]

Hello! Apologies for sending an ask out of the blue but considering your familiarity with localisation differences in persona 4/golden, I was wondering if anything comes to your mind regarding this aspect and how the game depicts queerness and queer themes? Thank you!

Heya! Don't worry, I was thinking people would probably ask stuff like this. After all, I already replied to somebody's tags asking this same thing previously, but I know not many people saw that, so let me use the chance to go into more detail:

Unfortunately, Persona 4's treatment of queer themes is not a result of the translation. The only things that were down to translation choices were small things, such as which pronouns are used in which situation (because Japanese does not at all have the same concept of third person pronouns as English, and the way first person classifiers that mean "I" work is very complex and a lot more vibes-based than actually tied to gender.)

But for the most part, everything is pretty much the same. Kanji's reaction to Chie mumbling about something being "off" about how he interacted with Naoto that first time, the tent scene, Yosuke's extreme insecurity in his own sexuality in addition to everyone else's... I think maybe the only thing that's a biiit better in Japanese is that Teddie is kiiinda genderfluid in Japanese, with the artbook outright stating that he doesn't necessarily consider himself "male" when he's in his bear form, unless it's necessary for a joke.

A lot of this can be traced to the really odd relationship the game's director, Katsura Hashino, has to queer themes. In interviews about Catherine Fullbody (a game which infamously has a rather weirdly handled gay romance route which, however, is notably also the only romance route in the game that cannot possibly result in a bad ending), he talks about how he's always admired queer people for being "strong" and wanted to write queer stories, but couldn't really do it until Fullbody because Atlus higher ups were afraid of backlash from the fans.

Traces of this are actually seen in Persona 4 Vanilla's data, where remnants of a surprisingly well done romance route for YOSUKE, of all people, are still present. That route made it far enough into development to have voiced lines in both, English and Japanese. However, it was dummied out in the final game and its script content was removed. Yosuke STILL has the "girlfriend flag" in the code that all the female romance options also have, but in the finished game it only checks whether you can hug him during his social link or not. Everything else was dummied out. You can still find the voice files on the cutting room floor if you want:

And yes, the "I like you" line is unambiguously romantic in Japanese. His wording is very hard to misinterpret.

However, in the finished game and the rest of the franchise Yosuke's bisexuality was reduced to an in-joke of the developers. It's most poignant in Persona Q (the first one), where if you get the "marriage" scene with Yosuke in the second dungeon, his reactions differ WILDLY depending on which Protagonist you are playing as, far more than other male characters. With Makoto Yuki he acts nonchallant and deadpan about it. With Yu Narukami he acts like a blushy Tsundere and panics constantly. So, yeah.

Okay, so, if the director had interest in writing queer stories since before Persona 4, why is Persona 4 the way it is then?

Well, because - and there's no way around it - he sucks at it.

Katsura Hashino has to be one of the clumsiest "gay activists" I've ever seen in my whole darn life. He finds queer people "cool", but seemingly never had any queer writers or sensitivity readers on his teams and it's caused enormous blunders in how these themes have been handled. For example, when after Persona 3 it was pointed out to him that the writing of the female characters in interaction with the male characters was bad, he immediately hired more female writers and gave them free reign for how to handle the female characters from then on out. But apparently the same thing never happened with his mishandling of queer themes. He wants Catherine's Erica and Rin to be empowering figures for trans women and gay men, but makes a lot of blunders in how he has other characters interact with them to the point it buries his good intentions. Erica's boyfriend having gay panic upon realizing she's trans is treated as "funny and cute", even by Erica herself. Rin technically being a monogender alien really undermines his story of becoming more secure in his sexuality. It goes on and on like that.

The intention with Naoto's story was to point out the extreme sexism in Japanese society and how it forces female nerds to find alternate modes of self-expression, but the clumsy choice of including surgery themes in Naoto's dungeon completely buried that for especially western queer audiences. Most people don't even remember Naoto's dungeon was outright modeled after a Kamen Rider villain hideout. They completely shot themselves in the foot with this one. Additionally, the way Naoto is handled AFTER the dungeon makes her (I'm using that pronoun because she calls herself a "woman" in Japanese in the game) seem more like someone who's on the verge of discovering they are X-gender (the japanese word for "nonbinary") than a repressed girl. Like, right down to how she has Rise help her experiment with clothes in the canonical drama CDs only to realize she really is uncomfortable with skirts and go for an androgynous but less restrictive look going forward. The way she dresses in the Golden epilogue and P4D is pretty X-gender core if you ask me. If they had leaned into that they could have genuinely have had something AMAZING, while also presenting the themes of sexism they wanted to explore, but the lack of queer sensitivity readers kind of ruined it.

Same for Kanji. The way they write him makes it seem like he's bisexual or pansexual, rather than straight, but they kinda shove that part of him aside after his dungeon is done, leaving his actual orientation up in the air and wasting a really good chance for representation. NOW, given what happened to Yosuke's social link, it's quite possible the original intent WAS to explore this more and it got cut, but as it stands, we'll never know. The huge problem of the internalized toxic stereotypes his Shadow presented never being reflected on and put into their right context in the rest of the game, when his social link could've given a great opportunity for that is also a huge shame.

All of this happened because of Atlus being unwilling to let their writers go all out with queer themes in fears of alienating a cishet audience AND because Hashino never sat his writing team down with any actual queer writers to sort this shit out and learn how to get across what the team was ACTUALLY trying to say. Now, given, Persona 4 was far from the only Japanese media property with that exact issue at the time, but it hurts especially much in its case because of the game's themes of exploring the truth to its logical conclusion, as well as psychology. These are issues that a remake REALLY would do well to address and correct. I feel like they actually will HAVE to do that, because sensitivity readers have become the NORM in handling these themes now in Japanese media, rather than the exception. You can thank trail blazing mainstream works like Zombie Land Saga for that.

All in all, Persona 4's handling of queer themes is an exercise in frustration that I hope is corrected soon.

[all-pacas]

foreman cannot catch a break! first, he has to third wheel chase and cameron, after he has to third wheel chase and thirteen, his ex-girlfriend! then he and taub become friends and then chase goes and becomes a favourite of his daughters.

No wonder he continues to hate chase, I'd be pissed if some guy easily got everything he wanted in my life too

HONESTLY I could and probably will someday write up a whole thing about this, I know you're joking (and correct), but I actually find Foreman and Chase's antagonism really interesting and way more interesting than the bland "aww they're besties" read you sometimes see. They're really not!

Chase is basically. Chase is basically the embodiment of everything Foreman hates, pretty literally. Foreman has an inferiority complex and suffers massive imposter syndrome; Chase is literally a nepotism hire with a famous father. Foreman works his ass off; Chase is notoriously lazy but genuinely talented.

There's this line in Post Mortem from Chase's other hospital nemesis:

CHASE: If you really think I'm a good doctor, why do you treat me like an idiot? TREIBER: It's not because you lack talent. It's 'cause you've wasted it. Did you know I applied to be a fellow with House the same year as you? CHASE: No. TREIBER: Quit my other program, relocated, broke up with my girlfriend. Then your father made a call, and suddenly you had the spot. CHASE: That was almost ten years ago. TREIBER: Do you know what I could've done after even three years with House? Gone to the CDC, W.H.O. Started a diagnostics department someplace they'd never even heard of such a thing. You've been given everything. Looks, talent, my future. Nine years later, look what you've done with it.

This could literally be Foreman talking. Chase is rich, successful, he's socially very adept (something Foreman struggles with); on the surface he never seems to have to work hard for anything, he never seems to try hard or care. He fucks over House with Volger and gets away with it. He gets fired but keeps managing to fail upwards, and meanwhile Foreman is the one with a shitty reputation who can't get a job anywhere.

Foreman came from nothing, he overcame so much, he has overcome literally all the odds and worked his ass off and done everything right. And he's wildly successful, for sure, but it's work. "Chase doesn't care about this job," he tells House in S1. Chase doesn't deserve to be in the same place, because Chase hasn't worked for it.

There's a very interesting class/racial subtext to it all too, of course. We know Foreman resents poor people and the underprivileged, people who remind him of himself. Chase is literally the one percent: a good looking White Man, the scion of a rich and powerful family. He is everything Foreman isn't. Even their dynamic is kind of telling of this: Chase never seems to take Foreman all that seriously. He takes the piss a lot, he enjoys making fun of him and trolling. Chase does this with everyone, it's not personal, but it's kind of insulting, right? Chase kind of treats Foreman like a joke. Where Foreman can often be very rude or even mean to Chase (his insistence that Chase must have ratted to Tritter and is that spineless and making fun of his dady issues in Finding Judas comes to mind), Chase doesn't return the favor in the same way. Foreman is mean, Chase is sarcastic. Which is of course also hurtful. Which of course also makes it seem like Chase looks down on Foreman. I'm sure that's how Foreman takes it. It's true. Chase is pretty fucking dismissive of Foreman. I don't think it's a class/racial thing in the way Foreman's resentments probably are — Chase is kind of dismissive of most people — but it doesn't help.

And, of course, Foreman isn't completely right. He's biased, he's in his own way kind of a snob, there are several examples of Foreman completely misinterpreting Chase as a person: my favorite is in The Mistake: in an episode showing Chase bonding with Kayla and her brother and taking a sincere interest in Kayla's kids, Foreman bitterly complains to Stacy that Chase doesn't care about his patients. But Chase isn't exactly jumping at the bit to open up to Foreman, even when Foreman does try and reach out (Socratic Method, post-S6 divorce). They're kind of… fundamentally incompatible people. They're eventual friends, they respect one another, but they're just incapable of seeing eye to eye.