#i'm saying a lot of words. i have no one to really talk to so i once again come to tumblr as a public diary

[these-written-reveries]

This is a great post and it also reminded me of one of my fav fictional queerplatonic relationships, Schmidt and Nick from New Girl.

I remember watching that scene from season 5 episode 5 for the first time

Schmidt: Nick is very romantic. He does romantic things for me all the time!

Nick: Schmidt, what are you talking about??

Schmidt: Just the other week you were very romantic to me! When I fell down in the parking lot and you picked me up!

*flashback to a Schmidt falling like an idiot and Nick hoisting him up unceremoniously by the arm*

Schmit then goes onto say that romance doesn't always have to be sexual and for some reason that really stuck with me over the years. I think it describes how I have felt about a couple of my really close friendships with people in my life. The kind where you just really click on a very deep and intimate level, but not in a sexual or normal "romantic" way.

I find many things that me and my best friend does as "romantic", just in a platonic-romantic way. I wish there was a better word for this. I never say it aloud bc people will get weirded out, but I'm always internally like "Aww so romantic!" to basically anything that I view to be particularly heartfelt/affectionate/intimate.

They sent me flowers bc they knew I was having a bad day? They poured their heart into a letter for me just bc they felt like it? They remembered that I love this really specific thing and gifted me something related to that? They cradled my face so gently while they helped me get an eyelash out of my eye? That's SO romantic!

And I do the same things for them! Does that mean I wanna date or fuck them? No! But whoever does later down the line will be a damn lucky bastard, I'll tell you that.

Has my demisexual ass fallen in love with a previous best friend of mine who also did many of these things? 👀 That's besides the point!!! It's not always like that, and people need to become more educated and comfortable with the reality that there are various types of love and romance out there and not all of them = sex and dating.

Long story short, I just love really deeply, even on platonic levels, and I can see the romance in everything and I think it's so sweet 🥹🥰

"friends don't look at each other like that" well okay you coward you do whatever you want however i WILL look at my friends like they're the most important thing in the world. i love them with my whole heart and i will hold their hand and stare at the stars not because i wanna fuck them but because they mean the world to me and i care about them. fuck you

[im4rmy]

when he hurts you during sex by accident - OT7 (idol AU)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Mark　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• after growing up with only men, he's still trying to size down his strenght when he's around you, but when he's lost in the pleasure of pounding into you chasing his climax... he loses that last thread of control. and that's a little too much for you.

• you squeeze his shoulders to get his attention but he doesn't seem to notice. "mark- wait, slow down please"

• nothing. but when he thrusts again roughly, hurting you, you scream and squirm away from him, finally getting his attention.

• "what's wrong baby?" "you were hurting me- ugh" you groan clutching your lower belly.

• mark widens his eyes. "w-what? oh my god, i'm sorry! are you okay baby?"

• you take a deep breath and relax your legs, feeling the ache already fading. you give him a little smile and get closer to him again, but his face and body are completely shutted down.

• "i'm so sorry... it's- are you okay?" "yeah, it's nothing. don't worry, okay?"

• he keeps on apologizing again and again until you snort and decide that the night it's over

• he feels so guilty that he won't touch you again for almost 2 weeks

• "i just- i fear i will hurt you again" "that was an accident, baby. i trust you"

• let's say that the sex with him will be VERY gentle and careful for the next two months or so.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Renjun　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• he's not rough in bed but he's freaky: he likes to tie you up (and to be tied up but this is not the case).

• but tonight he seems to be a little too lost in the moment to notice that you arching your back that way is not from pleasure but pain: you're lying on your belly with your hands handcuffed behind you while a whiny renjun pounds into you from the back.

• and when you feel like your back is about to break in half, you decide that is the right time to use your safe word. "APPLE PIE!"

• renjun instantly stops his movements and takes a breath to regain awareness of his surroundings and when you try to relax your back squinting in pain, he comes out of you gently. "are you okay baby?"

• "no please- u-untie me"

• you don't need to say anything else: your hands are free in no time and you collapse on the bed with a whine, face buried in the pillow.

• "talk to me pretty, is it your back?" you nod against the pillow and you feel his warm hands on you, softly massaging you.

• you breathe a few times relaxing your whole body, then you turn around to lay on your back now. you meet his worried eyes and offer him a little smile "i'm okay now"

• "are you sure? we can stop-" "nono, it's okay, really"

• you lift a little to kiss him and he reclutantly melts into your warmth again. he's still a little hesitant but it doesn't last long: you two comunicate a lot and you have a safe word for a reason. it's not the first time one of you isn't comfortable in a certain sexual activity since you both love to experiment new things. you say the safe word, the other stops and then you can continue your love making without overthinking it.

• that's why now renjun is thrusting in you again, slowly and deeply, passionately but gently, kissing you and taking care of you in his embrace. you smile at him and anything else doesn't exist anymore.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Jeno　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• you love sex with jeno. you absolutely LOVE it: he's hot af, he knows what he's doing, he's a pro at using his hands and mouth. he isn't even that rough but he's strong and sometimes he doesn't notice if he's gripping your sides or your wirsts with too much strenght. let's be honest, you don't notice either in the moment.

• in the morning, however, you feel the skin on your hips BURNING. and when you look in the mirror and see dark bruises here and there... you know that jeno can't see these or he'll never touch you again. (you can't let that happen omg)

• but when you can't seem to mask the winces every time you twist your body, he knows something is wrong. he ignores your protests and lift your hoodie, revealing your secret.

• "what the fuck happened??" he looks at you worried and when you can't even look at him nor answer- he realizes it's his fault.

• "oh my god baby- did i do that? i'm so sorry, why didn't you tell me i was hurting you?!" "because you weren't! i swear it didn't hurt till this morning"

• he looks at you with mortified puppy eyes and hugs you tight. "i'm so sorry baby. does it hurt a lot?"

• you giggle and enjoy his cuddles. "no it's okay, really. it'll fade quickly, don't overthink it okay?" "mhmh"

• you stayed cuddled up like that for a while, he even skipped his gym session with jaemin just to stay with you and do absolutely nothing but spoil you with endless cuddles.

• the next night he makes up to you eating you out like never before.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Haechan　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• sex with him is messy and loud and whiny. so it's understandable that he doesn't notice immediately when your pleasure moans turn into pain ones.

• when he angles himself wrong and thrust in you roughly, you choke out a cry and flinch, but he thrusts in you again making you scream.

• he finally looks at you sensing that something is wrong and he widens his eyes seeing your hurt expression. he's out of you in a second.

• "are you okay?" "fuck- ow"

• you hold your legs to your chest to ease the pain and take some deep breaths.

• "y/n you're scaring me, say something" "i'm okay, i'm okay" "can i take a look?"

• his soft and gentle voice and his warm hand caressing your knee are enough to make you relax. you nod and let him spread your legs.

• "you're not bleeding sweetie. what if i prepare a hot bath and we can cuddle until it gets cold and then i massage your whole body with my lotion and then i cuddle you until you fall asleep in my arms?"

• you giggle at him, locking your arms around his neck letting him lift you up and bring you to the bathroom. "why i have the feeling that you're going to enjoy this more than me?"

• "impossible! i'm using my good and expensive lotion for you!" "and rubbing it on all of my naked body is not worth the waste?" "it'll be SO worth it omg"

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Jaemin　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• jaemin is a HUGE... anal lover. you have to be honest: you don't enjoy it as much as him but he loves it so every now and then you give in, despite the initial discomfort you know you'll feel.

• but today you seem to not be able to overcome the stiffness, not when you're pressed against your door, completely naked, with your buff boyfriend thrusting in and out of you from the back holding your breasts like his life depends on it. that would be the hottest thing you two did in a while (and you two do a lot of steamy sex sessions so-) if you could at least relax just a little...

• "wait jaem- please stop" "w-what?" "i-it hurts- please"

• jaemin stops his movements and release the pressure on your body. "are you okay?"

• you collapse back against his body. "i'm sorry baby- i'm sorry i can't" "what's wrong princess?" "i don't like it- it hurts"

• he starts to caress your belly leaving sweet kisses on your shoulder. "i'm sorry... was i too rough?" "no it's just- i can't relax tonight"

• you can FEEL his smirk against your skin. "mhhh my girl wants to relax? i know a thing or two that will do the work"

• in less than thirty seconds your discomfort is well forgotten and replaced by the pure bliss of his head buried deep between your thighs. a win is a win.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Chenle　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• it cannot happen. during sex, chenle is entirely focused on you. he can't lose himself enough to not notice if he's hurting you.

• his every move is oriented towards YOUR pleasure so it's hard to believe he would hurt you even by accident.

• the worst it can happen is him doing something you don't really enjoy.

• "oh you don't like this? noted. and what if i do it like this instead- yeahhh that's my girl c'mon"

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Jisung　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

• jisung is not rough or wild in bed, at all. but- he's big. you're the experienced and freaky one in bed so you can play and tease him all you want masking it as foreplay but honestly- you do all of that to make sure that you're wet enough to take him without accidents (and of course you enjoy the foreplay).

• but today jisung is tipsy from wine and he seems to feel like taking control. you don't mind it, he's hot af and you're really down bad for the clumsy and awkward boy.

• so when he eagerly undresses you and BOLDLY licks and kisses your breasts you're on cloud nine, but when he goes straight between your thighs and you feel him against your core- you flinch and widen your eyes.

• "wait ji- SHIT"

• he enters in you (or at least he tries to) but you're not lubrificated enough. you curse squirming away from him, who is looking at you confused as fuck.

• you get on your feet to ease the pain and shot him a glare. "are you insane? you can't do that straight away! ouch"

• you moan in discomfort and take a few steps around his room. you're not angry at him, of course, so you take a deep breath to calm your scared heart.

• "did i- did i really hurt you?"

• you look at him and your heart melts in your lungs: he's on his knees on the bed, very naked, cheeks flushed and eyes popping out. you sigh and go back to the bed, sitting beside him. "baby, you're too big to just slide in"

• "t-too big?" "yes baby" "so i hurt you every time we-" "no! make love to you is my favourite thing in the world. but i have to make sure that i'm ready to take you. you understand?"

• jisung keeps looking at you with puppy eyes. then his gaze goes down, directly between your bare legs. he wouldn't be able to do that without alcohol in his system. he faintly nods. "i understand. i should touch you first"

• you blink a few times and try to answer but you feel his fingers on your clit and your words die in your throat. you feel his unexperienced but effective movements and relax instantly.

• "is this working?" you laugh giving him a kiss. "yes, my good boy"

• (he came right in that moment)

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

[ylangelegy]

like a python 🧊 jihoon x reader.

jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him.

★ rockstar!jihoon x reader. ★ word count: 2.5k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: non-idol. jihoon-centric, childhood friends, yearning... so much yearning, young k makes a cameo, jihoon is a bit lame (affectionately), cussing/swearing. mentions of alcohol, food. ★ footnotes: got7 dropped winter heptagon and it's all i can think about. wrote this in one sitting as a show of gratitude to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for introducing me to these boys. haven't done a song fic in a hot minute, but for lee jihoon and got7? anything. shoutout to igot7_MarKP on twitter for the english translation of the lyrics.

🎧 now playing: python by got7 — i know i'm an icon, watch me with the lights on; but she got a hold on me like a python.

▸ MUSIC IS HOW I'VE BEEN VENTING NOW... OVERSEAS, I'M SELLING OUT.

It’s pretty surreal to Jihoon, being in a room with some of the biggest names in rock.

In the past hour alone, he’s met Alex Turner, Dave Grohl, and— holy shit, is that Hayley Williams? Jihoon is getting dizzy, and it’s not only because of all the secondhand smoke he’s inhaled since he got to the Rolling Stones afterparty. 

The best of the best. That’s what the invitation had boasted. It was the scene’s most coveted event, and Jihoon somehow made it to the guest list. 

Unbidden, your voice nags from somewhere in the back of his mind. You’re the best, Jihoon-ah. 

He shakes his head, like he’s physically trying to get away from the thought of you. This had been happening a lot more as of late. Fleeting moments wherein he’d imagine how you would react, what you’d say. 

But Jihoon always catches himself. He snaps himself out of it and goes back to recording, goes back to performing. 

God, he needs to get it together. He’s starting to regret saying ‘no’ to the cigarette Ely Buendia was offering him earlier. 

(In Jihoon’s defense, he didn’t smoke often. He didn’t want to fuck up his vocal chords. He had a one-cigarette-a-year rule, and he wasn’t about to use it now. It was only January; who knew what else the year would throw him?) 

Jihoon is contemplating some other vice— maybe he can go grab another beer— when he feels a tap on his shoulder. At the sight of who came up to him, Jihoon immediately folds into a bow. 

“There’s no need for that,” Younghyun says, equal parts amused and embarrassed. “We’re all the same here, yeah?” 

Jihoon pulls himself to his full height. “Not… really,” he says lamely, and then he immediately launches into mumbled apologies when he realizes how he might have sounded. 

It wasn’t that Jihoon thought he was better than his peers. Hell, he knew that he was the least important person in the room. That’s what he meant; they were not all the same, because Jihoon still had a long ways to go. 

Especially when compared to rock icon Young K, who is— gracefully— taking Jihoon’s awkwardness in stride. 

“You’re holding up a lot better than me,” Younghyun muses. “At my first afterparty, I threw up on Rupam Islam.” 

“No.” 

“Yes, unfortunately. He was very nice about it, though.” 

Jihoon lets out a stutter of a laugh. He’s never been a fan of small talk, but he clings to it now like a lifeline. “Does it get easier?” he asks. 

Younghyun’s eyebrows raise. “Throwing up on rockstars?” 

“No, no–”

“I was kidding,” Younghyun says in between chuckles. His expression is a little more pensive when he goes on, “I can’t say for sure that it gets easier, but you learn to deal with it.” 

You learn to deal with it. Jihoon can almost laugh at just how accurate that is. It seems applicable to every aspect of his life— including missing you. 

Jihoon winces. Younghyun notices. 

The older man doesn’t comment on it, probably thinks it’s something else entirely. Younghyun doesn’t flinch away, either, when Jihoon nervously says, “Can I ask you another question?” 

“Ask away,” says Younghyun. “I’ve got nothing better to do.” 

What is Jihoon doing? He doesn’t know either, but it’s either this or fight off the urge to run through a pack of Marlboros. “How do you cope,” he starts slowly, “with… feelings?” 

A beat. Crap. Jihoon realizes he definitely could have phrased that better, because Younghyun is now looking at him with an expression of mild confusion. 

Jihoon backtracks. “You— we— go through a lot in this field of work. Like, a lot. And you— fuck, fine, I’m— grateful for it, really, I swear. But there’s just… so much other things, too, aside from the gratitude. How do you cope with those?”

Jihoon knows he probably looks and sounds like a trainwreck in his bid to be deliberately vague. By some miracle, Younghyun at least seems to understand what Jihoon is trying to say.

Younghyun’s lip quirks to one side as he thinks of his response. The silence stretches uncomfortably long, but then he gives an answer that’s the last thing Jihoon could have expected. 

“I write,” Younghyun says. 

Jihoon blinks once. Then twice. 

“You write,” he repeats, and the former nods. 

“It’s all in my discography. The anger, the heartbreak, the love.” Younghyun raises his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve written nearly 200 songs, and all of them are just— that. Questions. Answers to questions. Feelings and stories.” 

It’s so simple, so obvious. It’s like a glaring traffic sign, like something that every musician should know and do.

Put it in a song. Perform it for thousands and leave the muse none the wiser. Profit. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Jihoon had done it a fair amount of times, but never had he considered putting you to pen and paper. The prospect of it makes something in his chest thrum. 

“I—” He clears his throat. “I think I have to go, sunbaenim. It was nice seeing you.” 

A hint of humor glints in Younghyun’s eye, like he’s somewhat aware of the fact he’s witnessing something unravel. “‘Younghyun’ is fine,” he chirps. “And it was nice seeing you, too, Jihoon. Take care of yourself.” 

The words— take care of yourself— are supposed to be a platitude. To Jihoon, it feels like a tall ask. 

▸ I'M TOURING THE WORLD BUT I'M MISSING THE ONE WHO HELD IT DOWN.

Jihoon is exhausted. 

As much as he wants to say that he’s never been this tired in his life, it’d probably be a lie. He’d make the claim, hit the road, then end up crashing out saying the same damn thing. He’s seen this film before; he knows how it ends. 

He falls back on his hotel bed after his shower. A low groan escapes him, and he sends up a silent prayer to all the higher powers there are. Thank you for sheets with a 300-500 thread count. Thank you for air-conditioning. Thank you for warm showers and Listerine. 

Despite his fatigue, Jihoon can’t just go to sleep. Post-show adrenaline always took a couple of hours to wear off.

He briefly contemplates his options. Write a lyric or two? Watch a shitty Netflix movie? Stare out the hotel window until his eyes can’t stay open anymore? 

None of the above, it seems, as he reaches for his phone. 

Jihoon has never been active on SNS; he just couldn’t bring himself to care about things like TikTok trends or Twitter ‘beef’. It’s a constant thorn in his PR team’s side. There is one thing that he bothers to check, though, and God forbid he deny himself the simple pleasure of some good ol’ fashioned pining. 

He’s been on your Instagram page enough times that it’s the first thing that shows when he goes to the search bar. It’s the only thing that shows, really, which gives some pretty good sense of where his head is at. 

Your profile loads. There’s no new post, no recent story. Jihoon is both disappointed and relieved.

No news is good news, he thinks to himself as he leisurely scrolls through the photos he’s already seen a dozen times before. You, feeding sidewalk cats. You, sipping tea at a cafe. You, in all the places that were once Jihoon’s, too. The beaches, the hiking trails, the restaurant in your shared neighborhood. 

Jihoon opens that particular post. Even though he’s watched your life in squares for the better half of the past three years, this is the one photo that always has him feeling a pang of… something. 

Because Jihoon can imagine it— being at that restaurant with you. The two of you had discovered it together, had pooled your measly school allowances to afford the bokguk and ganjang gejang. 

He imagines being there with this older version of you, being the one snapping the picture that’d find a spot on your feed. He can see it so clearly in his mind’s eye that if he really, really tries, it begins to look more like a memory than a daydream.

But he’s not in Busan, not even in Korea. He’s in the United States instead, where he has ten stops before heading to Canada and Europe. 

Sold-out stadiums. Thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. 

All the food that he could possibly want, and yet it’s pufferfish soup and soy sauce crabs that he’s looking for. 

Every person that he could possibly have, and yet. And yet. 

Jihoon huffs out a frustrated exhale. He’s tired, which he swears makes him delusional. 

He casts his phone aside, blissfully ignorant to the way his finger double taps his screen as he does. 

Halfway across the world, your phone pings

woozi_universefactory ✓ liked your post. 

▸ I'VE BEEN RUNNING BACKWARDS, RUNNING BACKWARDS LIKE A MARATHON.

The push notification glaring up at Jihoon looks a lot like a bomb that’s about to explode.

Jihoon feels like it’s a bomb, because he refuses to believe that after over a year of absolutely nothing, you’ve messaged first. You’ve messaged first. 

He double, triple checks his calendar. It’s neither of your birthdays. It’s not a holiday, either. Is it Chuseok? No— that doesn’t make sense. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he chides himself under his breath. It’s a text. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jihoon opens the notification. 

And then his heart just. 

Stops. 

You’d sent two messages— the first, being the post that had him spiraling last night. It’s the proceeding message that has Jihoon hoping the ground will swallow him whole. 

Stalking me, Jihoon-ah? 

Holy shit.

Jihoon types out at least three different messages, from Are you a fly on my wall to Is there a new Instagram feature I don’t know about to What happened to “hello, how are you”? 

In the end, he only sends back a single question mark. When he opens the offending post, he immediately sees his transgression. 

Jihoon hadn’t liked the photo before last night. He didn’t like much posts to begin with. How— When— 

His phone pings. He’s never been so thankful that he mostly opts to get room service for breakfast, because the squeak that he lets out is definitely not very rockstar-like. Jihoon fumbles, and he ends up opening your DM before he can psych himself up for it. 

LOL. Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, you say. 

Damn you and your ability to render him speechless. Jihoon wonders if he can get away with not responding, with getting back to you a couple of days later and blaming his work. 

Except. 

Jihoon’s fingers slowly move across his screen. 

It was a good post, he says. 

It was a post from a year ago, you answer. 

So? He throws in an emoji of a man shrugging for good measure. Jihoon never uses emojis, but he can make some exceptions. 

Your respond, So, stalking. You were stalking me. 

Jihoon knows he’s digging a hole for himself, knows he’s going to stay up several nights thinking of just how stupid he is. If he were a stronger man, he’d pull the plug on this conversation and that’d be it. You wouldn’t bug him. He would maybe write a song about this moment. The world would go on. 

But he can hear you. 

In the messages, in the words on his screen. He can hear your voice, the way you’d smile or laugh or tease. How you’d say his name in that sing-song tone he once pretended to hate. 

He hears you in your messages, and he’ll live with the secondhand shame if it means that he gets to keep on listening. 

Not stalking, he shoots back. Just checking in. 

Ah, you say. Because you missed me?~

Despite himself, he scoffs. You’ve always been so shameless. It didn’t matter to you that he was WOOZI the rockstar; to you, he would always be Jihoon who lived three houses down. 

As if, he says to your teasing.

You don’t respond anymore. You don’t even read the message, because Jihoon doesn’t see the little ‘Seen’ under his last message.

He waits for it for a minute. Then five minutes. Then seven minutes. He stops checking at the thirteen-minute mark, because he likes to believe he’s no longer a high schooler with a raging crush on the girl next door. 

He’s a grown man. He’s WOOZI, for Christ’s sake. 

He can’t keep coming back to you.

▸ I GAVE YOU MY TIME WHEN I DIDN'T HAVE MUCH; ALL OF MY FEELINGS, SWEPT UNDER THE RUG.

Except he does. 

WOOZI may not want to. WOOZI may be the bassist writing songs about the past in hopes of leaving things in the past, but Jihoon is a different story. 

Jihoon texts you the moment he lands in Gimhae International Airport. Jihoon stands outside your front door— definitely jetlagged, probably in need of a shower— with his luggage in one hand and his phone in the other. 

Jihoon acts like it’s the world’s biggest inconvenience when he tells you, “Come on, then.” 

The two of you get the crabs and soup. He refuses to talk about his time away; he contents himself with listening, like he always does, and you fill the silence with babble. Your desk job, your parents’ nagging, your hobbies and side hustles. 

“Probably not as interesting as your life,” you joke after a particularly long-winded anecdote about a delivery rider who got your address wrong. 

Jihoon neither confirms nor denies the statement. He only raises one eyebrow and gives you a wordless gesture with his hand. Go on anyway, he’s saying, and you take the cue. 

The meal ends. Jihoon invites you for coffee. Then ice cream. Then a walk. 

“This is very suspicious.” 

Jihoon can’t help it; a snort of laughter escapes him at your words. “Can’t a guy take a friend out to lunch?” he asks humorlessly. 

“And dinner,” you note. 

“And dinner, yes.” 

“And dessert.” 

“And dessert.” 

The two of you are taking the long way home. There’s something to be said about how Jihoon drags his feet, about how you walk like you’re not on borrowed time. Even your conversation moves like you’re beating around the bush.

There is an elephant in the room and Jihoon is done pretending that it’s not there. That it hasn’t been there since the day you two met in primary school, since the first time he held your hand as a teenager, since he became a musician and every song he performed became about you.

Jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him. 

“Are you dying?” 

Your blasé question draws a bark of laughter from him. “Jesus, no,” he says. “Do I have to be dying to want to see you?” 

You don’t answer right away. Jihoon once again has that feeling that he’s said something wrong, something loaded, but you save him from overthinking when you respond with, “You wanted to see me?” 

There it is. That teasing tone, that hint of a smile. 

You bump your shoulder against his. “You missed me, Jihoon-ah. Admit it.” 

And Jihoon is done, Jihoon is tired, Jihoon is still yours after all this time.

“Yeah,” he finally, finally says. “I missed you.” 

[zerocoded]

summary: headcannons of what caleb is like in bed.

authors note: help me i need him chronically. this is my opinion babes! i can't shut my brain off when it comes to him anymore. waiting for the 22nd to come is like waiting for my husband get back from war. everything here is what i read about his character so far, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: nsfw content • minors dni • SMUT • talks about size kink, teasing, fingering with his prosthetic bla bla, idk what else. A LOT. • this is basically word vomit, i'm sorry.

word count: 1.2k

caleb might be more conscious of his touch, especially with his bionic arm, carefully adjusting his strength to ensure comfort and gentleness.

i KNOW bro can’t keep his grunts down, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

he wants to consume you entirely, like occupy your every thought and feeling when getting intimate with you.

he’s a sucker for your reactions, so attentive to the point it makes you shy.

ALSO he’s so big—like everything about him is just massive. we know that already, right? sometimes HE forgets.

i just got a feeling that caleb's bed is enormous, like king-size for real, made for someone his size. like BIG BIG. because he's a big boy.

he kind of doesn’t fully grasp how strong he is or how big he is compared to you, like the first time he closed his hands around your throat, he gave you whiplash.

everything in his apartment is set high to accommodate him, and you struggle with it constantly.

his frame completely consumes you, overwhelming but in a way that feels safe.

one time, tara walked in on the two of you mid-moment, she was sleeping on your apartment for some reason and caleb came from the farspace fleet really missing you. she asked caleb where you were, and he just casually said "here," while tara bolted out, flustered beyond belief when she realized what was going on.

you were literally UNDER him and to anyone passing, it looked like he was alone lol.

you two have little banter all the time, thanks to growing up together as childhood friends.

tell me i'm not getting too ahead of time, but i gotta say this. when you’re pregnant, caleb has this habit of saying “shush, i’m talking to the baby” every time he rests his head on your belly.

THAT'S SO CUTE, RIGHT? URGH.

he loves being in control – not in a domineering way, but because he wants to make sure you feel completely taken care of. he’s meticulous, learning what you like and pushing those boundaries just enough to drive you wild.

his size is an obsession for him – he’s hyperaware of how much bigger he is compared to you, and he uses it to his advantage. holding your wrists in one hand, pinning you beneath him, or just the way his body completely overshadows yours—it gets him going every time.

he’s vocal, but only for you – low grunts, whispered praise, and occasionally losing control with a deep growl when you hit just the right spot. but he’s also hyperaware of how you react, loving every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.

a possessive streak – he doesn’t say it outright, but the way his hands grip your hips or how he marks your skin with kisses is all about claiming you. his touch lingers, even when you’re just walking around afterward.

obsessed with eye contact – he insists you look at him, especially in your most vulnerable moments. “keep your eyes on me,” he murmurs, his gaze locking you in place as if the world outside the two of you doesn’t exist.

an absolute tease – he loves winding you up, taking his time until you’re begging him to stop playing around. slow kisses down your neck, feather-light touches that leave you trembling—he knows exactly what he’s doing.

his hands – they’re huge and rough, but his touch is incredibly gentle when he wants it to be. he loves how your body reacts to the contrast, and he uses it to his full advantage, whether he’s tracing your spine or gripping your thighs.

THE BIONIC ARM? OH MY GAWD.

he really hates the fact that he can't feel you - at all. but his prosthetic can come in handy sometimes 😏

he could use his arm’s advanced capabilities, like adjustable pressure or vibration, to focus on your pleasure, experimenting with new sensations. GUYS I HAD TO SAY IT.

i just know he teases you gliding the cool metal over warm, flushed skin and eliciting shivers of delight.

not him using it like your own personal vibrator. turning on subtle vibrations during a kiss or when he's fingering you.

he LOVES to explore areas like the neck, back, or thighs, using varying pressures to heighten your sensitivity.

aftercare king – he’s all about making sure you feel safe and comfortable afterward.

he’s a little shy about certain things – despite his confidence, there are moments when he feels self-conscious, like when you run your fingers along the scars on his body. but your touch soothes him, and he grows to crave the intimacy of being vulnerable with you. again, his prothetic can become a insecurity of him on these times.

unexpectedly playful – he likes to keep things fun, especially when the mood is light. sneaky touches, biting your ear just to hear you squeak, or pulling you onto his lap when you least expect it.

easily undone by you taking control – as much as he loves being in charge, when you take the lead, he absolutely melts. seeing you confident and assertive makes him lose every ounce of his composure. I JUST KNOW HE LOVES IT.

praise kink on both sides – he loves telling you how good you’re being, how beautiful you are, and how perfect you feel. but he’s also weak for your praise—if you tell him how much you want him or how amazing he’s making you feel, it’s game over.

a sucker for your scent – burying his face in your neck or your hair is his favorite thing. he associates your scent with safety and home, and it’s an instant comfort for him, even when things heat up. i just know he missed you so much while he was gone.

light experimentation – he’s always willing to try new things if it means making you happy. he might be cautious at first, but your enthusiasm has a way of bringing out his adventurous side.

he’s an absolute wreck for soft moments – when you’re tender and loving, gently tracing his features or whispering sweet things, it undoes him completely. he’s all about intensity, but those quiet, intimate moments leave him weak in the knees.

he’s competitive – if you ever tease him or play hard to get, he rises to the challenge, determined to win you over every single time. and when he does, he’ll make sure you know it.

obsessed with your reactions – he watches your every move, cataloging the way your body arches, the sounds you make, and the way your breath catches. nothing escapes his attention, and he uses that knowledge to drive you to the brink.

neck kisses – his favorite spot to tease and mark. he loves the way you shiver when his lips brush over that sensitive spot just below your ear.

secretly loves when you’re a little rough – tugging on his hair, biting his shoulder, or leaving marks on his skin? he thrives on the proof of how much you want him. it’s like a badge of honor for him.

he’s insanely attentive to detail – he remembers everything you like, from the way you gasp when he kisses your collarbone to how your breathing changes when you’re close. he uses that knowledge to make sure you’re always completely satisfied.

i need to write about him loving us ASAP, bye.

author's note: i came up with these while trying to write for caleb's love language (the thrid chapter) and i thought i could use it as a solo post hehe. see you guys next! send me a request • my masterpost

[bigthingsforeverintheworks]

Ok I almost took a media literacy L here before I decided to check out their website. First off it is just a publishing company, they're not writing them with AI or writing them at all.

The core business model is that you pay them a (relatively small, starting at $1500 dollars, they say up to $5000) sum of money up front and then they publish it, and you get all of the royalties, and much quicker than normal at that. Now that may seem odd, how are they making money from this?

Luckily their website has a list of famous company names

no clue what that means but those sure are companies (they do say on a different webpage that these are places they have "appeared in". Always glad to see that a company has articles that were made about it.

They have this testimony and yep the book sure does exist and was published by these guys, you can buy it from 6 different sites (none of them have any reviews but some have a preview and I mean. it looks fine, I don't know a lot about it but it doesn't seem that good on first glance).

So what they do is:

Proofreading (there's an option to get a human to do it for a "small extra fee", no numbers are given), this seems fine enough although I'm sure a human could do it. But weirdly enough they have this testimonial

First off this guy is talking about editing not proofreading which. kind of weird. But also it's just one of those things where like. Granted I haven't published a book but generally my understanding is editors are not evil and these types of people tend to be too protective of their work. Also this is just digging at traditional publishing.

2. AI design covers for you

Sure why not. I mean it won't be as good & you're not paying artists but whatever.

Stunning picture of a guy who discovered what AI does

3. They make AI audiobook & does advertising/printing (unclear if you need to pay for this)

Now looking at their blog-posts. First off we see this wonderful one where they explain how online publishers work.

Hm. Any conflict of interest there? This is a relatively standard practice (at least among tech companies) to put your own product in the same "objective" stance.

Anyhow they also have one about AI publishers.

Shockingly they're talking about it from a "make the numbers gooder" perspective but it's fine (besides the part where they don't link their sources but ok). They do keep talking about how editing in a way that makes it just seem like "that thing you do where you pay a company money and then they let you publish it" instead of a process wherein another person tries to help you improve the book.

A lot of it is just stuff where I have to either take their word on it or not.

Like ok optimizing a book for marketability is already on the wrong track but if i wanted to do so is AI the right place for that? Who knows. I do have a suspicion these articles are written by AI not just based on the AI-generated images

(look at the keyboards) but the redundancy and their classic list format does make it seem somewhat likely, Granted they do have human authors listed & I'm not really that interested in AI-vestigating companies but worth noting.

As for the article screenshotted in the original post, https://www.thebookseller.com/news/new-publisher-spines-aims-to-disrupt-industry-by-using-ai-to-publish-8000-books-in-2025-alone

For the record they were already in publishing before shifting to AI

And... they just seemingly don't get the point? Or they view all of these professions as just obstacles to the core essence of the book. But this is pretty clearly a non-answer.

Now for how they make money.

let's do some quick math. We assume they have 6 books at 20 ratings each, and 1 in 5 people leaves a review. Each book costs around 15 dollars (based on looking up one of the book's prices). That means they make 9000 dollars. (Probably less given the book sellers take a cut) but still that would be a decent profit for the author. Except I don't know where the 100% royalties they boast comes from. On their terms and service they say this:

and this is only when you earn more than $25 in a certain period (the period gets shorter as you pay them more)

But don't worry about literally anything financial that's not the point!

"I want to help bring books to the masses" yeah that's what publishing does. Ok but he means writing books as a hobby and/or legacy, same thing. Well no the writing you do on your own it's the publishing. Because the physical copies are very necessary. Like I don't know if i'm in the minority but I'd rather read a free PDF than buy something with an AI-generated cover, and if authors don't care about profit then they should too.

This guardian article has points about how it actually works & its similarities to existing types of publishing.

Initial reactions that still hold:

Why that image?

Why are they called Spine?

What are they even disrupting?

Things that don't really hold: Oh ew they're writing 8000 books with AI? Why?

Things I'm mixed on:

Anything about the actual humans; they do actually employ as of now 15 people who provide some services (e.g. a production manager) but also their goal is mostly to replace the traditional humans (who they view with disdain) with as much AI as possible before it becomes bad

Everyone involved in this should be catapulted into the sun.

A new publisher plans to churn out 8000 books in 2025 using AI. Everything about this from the massive waste of energy to the absence of any creative curiosity is utterly fucking depressing.

[toonice113]

Disconnect ⋆ ★ N.Hischier

Pairings: Nico Hischier x Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: After a rough start of the year for the devils Nico feels the pressure of being captain but when you feel him start to spiral you are there to catch him.

Warnings: Nico and reader share a shower, but no explicit content. not edited.

Word count: 734

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚⋆  just a little thing I wrote today after the game, Imma need for them to stop interviewing him after the losses he looks so sad pls(idk if they interviewed him today but all the other times), for the devils to give this man a win, and for whoever to give this man a long hug and just hold him for a while I swear. (If this sucks I'm sorry I'm sleepy and wrote it super quick)

You are in the family room having a conversation with Nicole while keeping your eyes on your phone waiting for the message to come through, After yesterday’s loss you boyfriend had told you not to wait for him and the only thing you had heard from him since then was a ‘thanks’ message as a reply to you wishing good luck in today's game. You had asked Timo to let you know when Nico was leaving so you could catch him on his way out not wanting him to be lonely right now feeling like you had given him some time for himself yesterday.

“It just sucks because they are really trying but it’s just not going their way” Nicole sighs and you nod, knowing all too well what she was saying and with Nico it seemed to be ten times worse since he kept blaming himself for the state of the team as he was their captain “Jesp was in bed by like seven last night, what about Nico?”

It's your turn to sigh “He wanted to be alone yesterday so he asked me not to wait for him I actually haven’t spoken to him yet” The blonde looks at you with sorry eyes “I think he just doesn’t want to vent because he feels like it would be a burden or something but he carries so much on his own and I know he thinks he can’t let it out because he’s the captain and is supposed to be the strong one for the team, I just wish he would take a day to disconnect but I know he won’t do that right now, I’ll still try to talk to him about it later though, this is not healthy for him”

As you finish your sentence your phone buzzes, it’s Timo letting you know that Nico has just finished his post match interview and is packing up to leave, you say a quick goodbye to Nicole and walk out ready to intercept him on his way out, you left your car home so you could drive with him after the game so that’s not a concern for you. Your heart breaks as he rounds the corner, his head low and shoulders slightly slouched not taking notice of anything around him, you walk towards him and hold his hand falling into step once you catch up, he doesn’t say anything, only squeezes your hand and you two walk to his car. When you arrive at his car you take his keys “I’ll drive us home you just rest” You tell him and he nods too tired to fight you giving you a quick peck before getting in.

The drive to his apartment is quiet, and although there’s a lot you want to say to him you let him enjoy the peace, when you get home he kicks his shoes off and as soon as the door clicks closed he  pulls you into his arms and you feel him melt as you reach your hands into his hair “Why don’t you go take a warm shower while I order us some food” You tell him but he shakes his head and holds you tighter 

“Don’t want to let go” He says, his voice deep and slightly slurred due to exhaustion even though it’s only 4pm 

“Okay let’s go take that shower together then” You say and start walking towards his bathroom while he still holds onto you, only letting go as you two undress and pulling you back as soon as you get under the hot water. You help him wash his hair and he returns the favor and once you’re both clean, even though you already were since you had a full shower before the game, you walk back into the room getting dressed in warm sweatpants and sweatshirts, he lays his head on your stomach holding onto one of your thighs closing his eyes as you run your hands through his damp hair, you feel him fall asleep quickly and decide to let him rest for the rest of the day leaving the conversation you know you need to have with him for the next day when he is better rested opting for ordering food from your favorite chinese place a couple streets away from his apartment “You rest my love, you deserve it” You mumble leaning down to kiss his head.

[whereubeenloca]

Leftovers

Part 4 of the Neighbor! Reader series! (1), (2), (3), (4), ...

Summary: Carmy brings you leftover menu items as a thank you.

Tags: VERY slow burn, Awkward flirting

Word Count: 1069

a/n- thank you all for the support! I'm happy yall are digging my silly little stories :)

You realize you don’t know a lot about your upstairs neighbor. 

Well, you know his name - Carmen, but it’s not like you talk. You know he works late and wakes up early, you know he smokes based on the collection of cigarette butts that suddenly appeared on your shared stoop after he moved in. Other than that? Nothing, nada, zilch. 

This is to say, you were incredibly surprised when you saw his name pop up on your phone. 

“You around?”

Yeah, you had his number, but save for the initial “hi” text the thread had remained silent. It’s almost embarrassing how quick you are to type back. 

“Yeah, why?” 

He doesn’t respond but you hear him moving around upstairs. Heavy footsteps move from one corner of the ceiling to the other, followed by the slam of a door. Before you know it, he’s knocking at your door. You’re quick to open it, shooting him a confused look. He stares back, arms full of small deli containers.

“Hi.” He says curtly, shifting the containers in his arms. “You uh- eat meat?”

You must have made some kind of face at him, because he looks down at the containers and back to you. 

“So, no…?” He asks tentatively, you finally snap out of it. 

Your face flushes hot with embarrassment, “No- well- yes. I eat meat.” You say simply, looking him over again. “But… what?” You ask, gesturing to the containers vaguely. 

Suddenly he’s aware of how odd this looks. His cheeks go red as he clears his throat. 

“I own a restaurant.” He says a little too fast, as if his statement explains anything. 

You must still look confused because he tries again. 

“Was trying out some new stuff for the menu. Uh… lots of leftovers.” He clears his throat as he shifts his weight. “As a thank you for the door thing.” He explains. 

You nod at that, he blinks back. 

“So… can I…?” He asks, readjusting the containers in his arms. 

“Oh- yeah of course. Please.” You stutter, scrambling to the side to let him in. 

“Sorry, it’s a mess.” You huff, picking up things as you move through your living area. “Kitchen’s over there.” You say, pointing to your left. 

“Cleaner than mine.” He responds, eyes scanning your apartment before he turns into your kitchen. 

Kitchen was a strong word for it. Along the far wall sits a row of sad looking cabinets, a fridge and a stove. Carmy’s shoes squeak against the poorly installed linoleum floors as he gently dumps his containers onto the small table in the center of the room. You watch as he fusses over them, arranging them into a line. 

“What kind of restaurant do you have?” You ask, looking at the containers. You can’t really tell what any of this stuff actually is. Each container is adorned with its own set of green labels, one with a date the other with its name. 

“It's a fine-dining, chaos menu, full service experience.” He rattles off before meeting your confused gaze. 

He clears his throat “Uh… a little bit of everything.” He corrects. 

You lean your palms into the table to inspect the food further. You gesture to the array of tupperware between the two of you, circling your palm around the three deli containers. “What’d you bring?” 

He points to the smallest container. “Mango chutney, pureed.” He says as he picks up another container and places it on top, tapping his finger on the lid. “Goes with the cod. And uh…bucatini in a bolognese sauce. There’s pork and cherry in it. Still working on that one.” He explains, poking the lid at the end of his sentence. 

“Sounds really good actually.” You hum in response, shifting your weight with a smile. “You didn’t have to do all this though, Carmen.”

“Carmy.” He quickly corrects. 

You furrow your brows. “You said your name was Carmen.” You say, confused. “Right? Have I been calling you the wrong name this whole time?” 

“No- no.” He interjects. “I just prefer Carmy. My uh. My friends call me that.” He clears his throat, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. Carmy’s cheeks go pink as he quickly busies himself with a scratch on the surface, dragging the nail of his thumb into it over and over.

You feel your cheeks flush a bit at the word friend. When did that happen? “Well. Thanks, Carmy.” You say softly, testing the nickname. 

His eyes flick to yours again, a boyish smile on his face. “Yeah, f’course. I mean, if anything you’re doing me a favor.” 

“Yeah?” You laugh in response. 

“Oh yeah.” Carmy laughs back, straightening out his shoulders. “I’ve got all kinds of stuff up there, there’s no way I can go through it all.” 

“Well I’m glad I could help.” You smile back.”I’m excited to try it later.” 

He hums softly as the conversation peters out. The two of you stand there for a second, side by side soaking in one another. You can feel him standing next to you and suddenly you become more aware of your own body. Do you always stand like this? Are you slouching right now? Was he standing this close the whole time? Your mind buzzes with self-awareness you haven’t felt since middle school. You don’t really want him to leave but you can’t think of anything else to say. Before you can do anything, he drums his palms against the edge of the table before pushing off of it. 

“I should get going.” He says softly. 

“Oh- yeah of course.” You nod in response, “Thanks again for the food.” You smile as you walk him to the door. 

“Let me know what you think, yeah? Don’t hold back.” He says as he crosses the threshold into the hallway, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he faces you. 

“I’ll be thorough.” You joke. He laughs and you bite back a grin. 

Again you swear he’s lingering. He shifts his weight back onto his heels as his eyes stay on you. 

“See you around?” You ask, an attempt at a goodbye. 

“Yeah.” He looks at his shoes before taking a full step back. “See you.” Carmy raises his hand to you before disappearing up the stairs towards his apartment. 

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you shut the door.

[a-big-apple]

if someone's trying to really beef up a character's voice, what advice would you have for them (in general or in TLT in particular)? what are some major voice missteps you've seen esp given your extremely thorough reading of the series👀

jeej u always ask the most interesting questions!! i feel like in general, for me, i'm pretty good with remembering and recognizing voices (like, how they actually sound) and good at remembering iconic lines. so when i'm trying to write a specific pov, i'll sometimes revisit examples of the tone i'm going for by watching bits if it's a show, or listening to bits of the audiobooks for TLT, and then as i'm writing and editing i'll kind of read everything back to myself in that character's voice.

but that's a particular skill i have that may not be more broadly useful, so...in general, some of the things that stand out to me are vocabulary, register (like how formal or informal), and demeanor.

so for example, gideon has a really large vocabulary, and she uses big and/or obscure words for specific effect, usually to needle harrow, but not as much in everyday speech. she's also often crude, and she'll use slang, and she uses humor to defuse and disguise rather than speaking seriously very often, so when she's being honest and frank it has a big effect. her internal monologue isn't very formal, and neither is her speech most of the time, but the formality might increase when she's kiriona, for instance!

whereas harrow speaks very formally and precisely, might not use as many contractions (almost everybody uses contractions in normal speech and it sticks out when someone doesn't, this is a bugaboo of mine, but harrow does genuinely sometimes go super formal), and uses her own big vocabulary in her regular dialogue a lot more often. she's used to oratory, she's the leader of a religious order, she's pretty good at stringing together a speech whether it's intended to inspire or to tear somebody down.

then you've got somebody like camilla, who doesn't speak much but has a very dry humor when she does, and is more likely to truncate or leave off unnecessary words, making her come off kind of brusque. she waits to talk until she has something necessary or important to say, but she knows how to tease. she's fairly informal, but she can slide into an academic register very easily, and she almost always calls everyone, even palamedes, by their title instead of their name.

sentence structure can come into this too, for narration from a particular pov! gideon is observant but also sometimes misses things or doesn't have all the information, her narration might include more questions or commentary to herself. harrow is intellectual and scheming and sometimes super unsure, so she might have longer and more convoluted sentence structure in her narration. cam is super straightforward, so her narration might be full of observations and thoughts and feelings that she keeps to herself, but with more short sentences, a more clipped rhythm that matches her speaking style.

other things that can sometimes rub me wrong or stick out are endearments and nicknames! there are some characters who will make up names for people and keep using them (gideon) and some who will almost always use a respectful title or name (cam) and some people who throw endearments at everyone willy nilly (cytherea and augustine come to mind). if a character has a canon endearment or set of endearments that they default to, or specific ones for specific people, it really helps keep the voice in character to keep using those. harrow uses beloved for alecto, and it means something when that transfers to gideon in fic in place of griddle, or just her name. pyrrha uses kiddie, and six million other things, but only with nona and later a bit with kiriona. ianthe and coronabeth both flirt with nicknames that the objects of their attention either despise or don't seem to allow from anyone else (harry, jody, millie). gideon uses all her wild thesaurus superlatives for harrow, but when it's a crisis moment and she's showing her heart, she uses honey.

this is just my personal pet peeve i think, but love/baby/babe are SO overused as defaults, when there are so many good opportunities to either use something that the character does say in canon, or find something unique that fits the character and the relationship in the fic. and imo, these should always be used sparingly and for specific emotional effect, unless you've got a character like pyrrha who i think always uses nicknames for nona. (frankly, griddle is very cute but harrow doesn't actually use it as much as fic wants her to)

so i guess, tl;dr advice is to relisten/rewatch/reread the voice of the character you're trying to get into, and think about the way they say things and the way they present themself, and take note of any quirks they have that can be put to good use later!

[moontyger]

I've been meaning to reply to this for awhile and it's largely because I feel like functionally, the person above who said formality in English is dying is right. I have seen people claim that, for example, using honorifics when translating Japanese is bad translation and you can demonstrate the same thing in English. And I have never agreed. "Formal Japanese is like speaking to your boss" is something that I've heard a lot, but I don't really feel there's a huge difference in language in (US American) English. All right, so you don't say "fuck" or "shit" or that something "sucks." But how do you tell the difference between that and someone who simply doesn't use curse words? You can't. (And except for the times when I worked for medical doctors, I've always called my bosses by their first name and it would have stood out as unusual if I didn't.)

Like those 5 examples of formality levels above? So A is something you'll only see in written English. It's the language of things like wedding invitations, which have retained formal customs that are no longer used in other areas. If someone is actually speaking like that, I'm at a Ren Faire; this is not everyday language. No one speaks to their boss like this and if you did, it would stand out as very odd - so much so that you might even be spoken to about it because it would be assumed it was a deliberate affectation and possibly even mocking. (But if you're trying to represent the speech of a character who speaks archaic Japanese, it would work for that, but obviously that is not the same as merely formal.)

B is something you might hear, but it is still a little unusually stiff. It sounds like the person is uncomfortable more than they're being formal, like they're asking someone out on a first date. (Though I guess 'formal' is maybe meant to be 'I am terrified to speak to this person'? But I never got the impression that that's quite right.) People would notice if someone were speaking like this and probably flag it as a sign of nervousness, maybe social awkwardness if they did it all the time.

And E is just... do real people speak like this? (Also it's complicated, because if they do, I also feel like this language is not just informal, it's gendered male and coded as young, so maybe it's just a bad example because it's folded so many things into it beyond formality.)

As an aside: this is part of why I think kids are often still expected to use titles when adults aren't. Socially, the US is more hierarchical with children and expects formalities from them that are not expected of adults.

This leaves C and D as the quotidian examples. D is less formal, granted, but would I say it to my boss? Sure. (OK, I actually wouldn't, but that's because I've never called a meal "a bite" in my life. But "wanna grab lunch" seems fine. It doesn't strike me as inappropriate.) So I guess I feel like yes, technically all these levels of formality exist, but most of them are not actually used any longer, so if you're using them for translating contemporary people speaking, results may be very "real people don't talk like this."

Now maybe part of this is that I live in a very informal area of the country. Maybe in other regions they really are using B to speak to their boss. But it definitely isn't a universal thing such that I would feel it was something that could be said of "modern English" in general. (Also all the examples above as well as my perspective are very white, which is of course also a complication with modern spoken American English: there are real racial distinctions. So to some extent it is a hard language to generalize.)

Edit to Add: I also want to note here that this really has changed pretty quickly. People in the 1950s and 60s were much more formal than they are now and even somewhat more formal in the 1980s. You could definitely extrapolate something about politics and some people wanting more hierarchy (and freaking out about the lack of it) from a panic about the loss of formality in spoken language.

I'm so fascinated by languages with different levels of formality built in because it immediately introduces such complex social dynamics. The social distance between people is palpable when it's built right into the language, in a way it's not really palpable in English.

So for example. I speak Spanish, and i was taught to address everyone formally unless specifically invited otherwise. People explained to me that "usted" was formal, for use with strangers, bosses, and other people you respect or are distant from, while "tú" is used most often between family and good friends.

That's pretty straightforward, but it gets interesting when you see people using "tú" as a form of address for flirting with strangers, or for picking a fight or intimidating someone. In other languages I've sometimes heard people switch to formal address with partners, friends or family to show when they are upset. That's just so interesting! You're indicating social and emotional space and hierarchy just in the words you choose to address the other person as "you"!!

Not to mention the "what form of address should I use for you...?" conversation which, idk how other people feel about it, but to me it always felt awkward as heck, like a DTR but with someone you're only just becoming comfortable with. "You can use tú with me" always felt... Weirdly intimate? Like, i am comfortable around you, i consider you a friend. Like what a vulnerable thing to say to a person. (That's probably also just a function of how i was strictly told to use formal address when i was learning. Maybe others don't feel so weird about it?)

And if you aren't going to have a conversation about it and you're just going to switch, how do you know when? If you switch too soon it might feel overly familiar and pushy but if you don't switch soon enough you might seem cold??? It's so interesting.

Anyway. As an English-speaking American (even if i can speak a bit of Spanish), i feel like i just don't have a sense for social distance and hierarchy, really, simply because there isn't really language for it in my mother tongue. The fact that others can be keenly aware of that all the time just because they have words to describe it blows my mind!

[l1v1ngd3dgrrl]

yo can u do coquette reader x daisuke pretty please

Daisuke x Coquette! Reader (SFW+NSFW)

an: hope I captured the aesthetic properly, I had to triple check that I was using the right definition.

I'm doing headcannons + mini drabbles, I hope that's ok with you anon <3

MDNI banner: cafekitsune

Cw(s): Use of the nicknames Baby/Princess/Babe/ my girl, praising (Daisuke giving!) , mild nsfw that isn't overly explicit, author is not entirely sure if they captured the coquette style properly.

SFW

How you met

First off, wow. He thinks you look like an angel.

He met you while at a thrift store. You were looking at some porcelain figures, a small rabbit with hand painted details catching your eye specifically.

The more he observed you, the more he wanted to get to know you better..but he didn't want to be a total creep about it.

He stops looking at the various shirts and makes his way over to the isle you're on, playing it cool and pretending to take interest in the various figures in front of him.

An angel with slightly chipped paint makes a light go off in his head.

"Hey uh-" he pauses and holds the angel figure in his hands and gestures it towards you. "I found your twin!' He's smiling nervously, hoping he doesn't come across as some weirdo. When you don't respond he's debating about just dropping everything and running away forever. Some pick up line, huh? When you finally crack a smile smile he relaxes. "Sorry that was cheesy. Uhm I'm Daisuke." He sets the figure down on the shelf. "Well Daisuke nice to meet you, I'm y/n." His mind blanks for a moment, unsure of what to say next. You break the silence by reaching over an picking the angel up and examining it, "So this is my twin huh?" He splutters a bit, fumbling words awkwardly agrees with you. Something along the lines of 'because you're pretty like one' finally leaving his mouth in a coherent way.

You bought the figure and exchanged contact info with him after talking a bit in the store, agreeing on an eventual date.

The first date

You two agreed to go on an official date after three months of talking, something he totally respected and was hyped about once the arrangement was made.

He wants to take you out somewhere nice, but not too up front. Something that he thinks you would enjoy doing is visiting an art exhibit and then eating dinner at this nice little bistro downtown.

When he meets you at the exhibit he's giddy with excitement, and in awe at your outfit. It was simple but still elegant.

During the art exhibit portion of the date he learns you have quite the eye for different French artists, rambling on about the meanings behind paintings and little hidden details that the untrained eye might have missed.

You have brains and beauty, what more can he ask for? (he's learned quite a bit that he never thought he would even be bothered to learn about before.)

Dinner is his treat, he's saved up money for this moment specifically.

During dinner both of you continue to talk, learning more about each other. He learns that you have always adored the 'vintage' hyper feminine style, and how it took you ages to accumulate a wardrobe full of various outfits. Thrifting being one of your common grounds made him so incredibly happy, he's 1000% taking you on a thrifting date if you let him.

(spoiler you do)

"Well, I had a lot of fun." you say as he walks you to your front door. "Thank you for dinner, I had no idea that Bistro was even there!" He chuckles and nods. "I had a lot of fun too! I've learned so much about you," he pauses carefully thinking about his words. "I would really like to take you out again sometime, I think you're a really awesome girl." Your lips curve into a smile and you press a peck on his cheek, a lipstick mark bold against his tan skin. "I'd really like that," you brush away a strand of hair from his face. "I think you're a really awesome guy." you mimic him. He practically melts then and there. "So it's settled, how does next Thursday sound?"

Dating

You two became 100% official after 3 more dates, and you two have been going steady for about 6 months now.

Nicknames he calls you include: a shortened version of your name (if possible that is), baby/babe, my girl. and he'll even whip out the mi amor if he's feeling really romantic.

(tries to) Spoil you with new additions to your wardrobe, or knicknacks. You're 1000% thankful of course, but you don't want him blowing all his money on you.

Your favorite date is when he takes you out downtown and the two of you just spend hours sightseeing and checking out different stores.

NSFW

Now, Daisuke's sex drive is pretty standard for a guy his age and he imagines yours is equally standard for a woman your age as well. He doesn't rush to get intimate with you, lets you call the shots when it comes to initiating. (but not in a submissive way, he's just trying to be a gentleman)

(Though it's not inherently sexual) the nickname princess comes out of his mouth the most in the bedroom, often praising you.

has bought you a couple of lacy bra and panty sets, but melts when you're in your 'grandma' nightgown. Just something about it drives him insane (y'all know that meme about the grandma nightgowns that 'kept her bills paid'? think of something like that.)

rolling back to him praising you, it's not the usual "oh you're taking it so good blah blah blah." WRONG he's telling you how beautiful you look, how angelic you sound, just how perfect you are and how he can't believe how lucky he is to have such a lovely girlfriend.

The headboard lightly thumps against the wall as you buck your hips against Daisuke's. He's below you, groaning and keeping those gorgeous brown eyes fixated on you. Your eyes are shut and lips parted as you moan as you bounce on him. "That's it princess, let it all out." he rumbles, a hand coming up and brushing against your cheek. "feeling good?" you nod and reposition slightly. He chuckles and lets it trail off into a moan. "I'm such a lucky guy to have such a perfect girl"

[hai7ani]

mmmm no super great ideas for you but im craving for virgin!rindou and single mom reader… aaaaaauhagghg.

collection

慢一點，久一點，真一點。

Rindou initiates the talk first.

It happens on a game of WNRS in your living room, takeout boxes long forgotten on the coffee table. The TV is playing a movie you're sure neither of you are really watching, yet you still want to pretend that you are.

You've been giggling at him for the past hour. He's a pretty funny guy, you think. Doesn't have as big of an ego you thought guys like him would have.

He's a nerd who's always so observant and nice. He's nice to you, your son, the ladies living in your apartment complex who always needs help switching light bulbs because they're too old for that now. One time behind doors Yuzuha's said that she'd smash if he weren't such a loser all the time.

(You think he is, too.

But it's what that makes him so... fuckable.

You think it's bad that you keep having these thoughts, knowing that you're most probably leading him on.

You're not ready yet.

But your heart still thumps weirdly when he comes to visit with warm food and occasionally new toys that you can tell he's had a hard time picking for your boy 一 because he's somehow always one colour off, or one category away.

When he bought Hot Wheels, the kid's already moved on to playing Legos. And when he gifted an expensive Star Wars set that he saved up for, the little shit just has to be in his Mommy phase.)

He gets embarrassed easily and you can just tell he's a virgin with the way he treats porn magazines that Yuzuha has somehow gotten her hands on, stuffed behind cabinets so that Shou doesn't find them. Neither of you let her know that she's been exposed, but it's more fun this way.

He's just a guy. Genuine, very smart despite what he says. Not book smart, but he reads up on things a lot. A bit clumsy at times, but he's still responsive than most men.

He's easy to talk to. Easy to know.

Easy to一

"What's a compliment you wished you received more frequently? Oh, dang. I gotta think about this." He flips the card around, throwing his head back onto the couch.

And yet again一

"Do you wanna go first?"

What are guys like him?

"I wish more people told me I was pretty."

Your response came to you naturally. It poured like waterfall, thorny chain tightening around your heart, squeezing your flesh tight, and you busy yourself with a loose thread on your blanket.

Rindou only stares at you from the other end of the couch. Almost like a deadpan, but not really. His violets pierce through your soul, dissecting you up one by one. You don't make eye contact even when you can hear the silent screams for you to look at him.

"You're kidding."

"What? It's true."

"No. I mean, no one tells you that all the time?"

You crack a smile, glancing up to take just one quick look. He's still as handsome as ever, boyish features much more prominent under the yellow light illuminating the room.

Soft nose, pretty doe eyes. Cracked lips pink from the Malatang you love eating. Veiny hands 一 one thick, desirable finger twirling around the drawstring of his pants 一 that draws you in so close you can't help but go wild at the sight.

"What, you think I'm pretty?"

He doesn't cough like you'd expected him to. Doesn't get embarrassed or act any more like a classic, textbook virgin at your poke.

"Yeah. You're pretty." His voice gets softer with every syllable. Dodgy eyes looking away with each word.

You don't respond at that, but you can't lie that his compliment did make you feel something swirling on the inside. Something blooming in your tummy from the way his eyes look into your own.

It's true 一 you haven't been told for your looks as much as you've always wanted. You're hot, you're sexy, sure 一 but you haven't been pretty to them. You've always hoped that they could see past your body 一 to see you for who you are on the inside.

"You're一" He shifts in his seat, suddenly feeling a little too hot, heart beating a little too fast in his chest. "You're pretty, okay. You always spend too much time in the mirror but I think you're fine just like this."

You purse your lips, listening.

"You're... Shit, I'm一"

You understand him when he throws his pillow to the side to run fingers through his hair. He's not always good with words, hasn't always been. But he still tries, and you like that about him.

He always puts in effort.

"You're pretty, like music. There's no boundaries, no... box. You can be anything. It's cool."

You grin at that. "Really?"

A nod. "I can tell you that everyday from now on."

An awkward silence too heavy for any of you to handle covers the room like blanket too fast. The soft, anticipating smirk on his face drops when you shift in your seat, clicking your tongue. Fingers scratching at your brows, teeth biting into the corners of your lips.

"Rindou, I'm sorry if I have been leading you on, I一" You sigh. "I don't think I'm ready for一."

"No, wait一" He tries inching a hand towards you but you dodge. "I thought we一 Aren't we onto something here?"

Rindou feels pathetic. He feels as if he's reaching for something that seems close but is still so, so far away.

"No, I'm sorry. I'll pay you back for tonight's dinner. And I don't think you should come over so often anymore. I'll talk to Shou-chan, have him understand."

He lets out a breath too short, standing on his feet as if it'll help him figure you out better. "Why? Is it me?"

"I just don't think it's fair to you, okay? We should stop. I'm sorry."

"What isn't fair to me?"

You give him a look so sad that his heart hurts.

"You're gonna be dealing with a kid that's not yours. He's hyperactive and naughty before bed. He's picky with food and doesn't like taking showers. Worst of all you're gonna be dealing with me. I'm not easy. I'm difficult to manage, to handle, to一 You'll not like me anymore when you see it for yourself. Guys like you deserve better things."

Fuck.

Rindou scrunches his brows, face twisting into one of confusion, one that makes you seem crazy for saying what you said.

"Why do you say these things about yourself? Why do you say these things about him? He's just a kid, I'm not good with kids but I'm sure I can handle him out of all." He throws his hands up in the air a little. "And, seriously, guys like me? What am I like? Why do you assume that way about me? I'm not that kind of person. I don't like doing that."

You fight the tears threatening to fall. It hurts, to say the least.

"Like, why do you think I've been around for so long? I would've turned on my back long ago if you and Shou were so hard to love."

requests are open

[lananiscorner]

Coldest hot take that ever took, but if people can understand the meaning of the word "nostalgia" and the sentiment of "god, remember when we were kids and our biggest worry in the world was whether we could have ice cream for dessert after dinner?", then they should be able to understand the urge to consume something that hearkens back to a time when the world seemed simpler (it never was, you just had adults taking over lots of shit for you and shielding you from the worst, ideally). A time when it was good enough for you to just exist and have fun and maybe learn about the importance of courage and friendship and kindness.

Also, I think a lot of the stigma around adults consuming media for kids is that puritanical panic around "but what if these adults are gonna corrupt/groom/abuse our kids???" to which all I can say is:

1) adults who want to do that will find a way to do it even without watching My Little Pony or Steven Universe or whatever.

2) Not every adult who consumes media for kids is a pedo. See the entire topic of this post.

3) You SHOULD want your kids to interact in spaces where there are adults around as well, because learning how to interact with people who are not the same age/ethnicity/affiliation as you is actually a really important life skill.

4) It will help them learn what healthy interactions with adult strangers look like, which will make it easier for them to notice when an interaction is not healthy (e.g. why is this one user so eager to get a picture of what I'm wearing today, none of the others have ever asked me for that).

5) By having adult strangers around that are not affiliated with their parents in any way, they will have someone to reach out to in case they are actually, in real life, being groomed or abused by someone they don't trust to report to their parents (e.g. dad's best friend, mom's sister, the teacher both their parents get along with so well, etc.)

"Fun" trivia: Many years ago, my mom and I used to be part of a massive anime forum/art posting site where the average age was something like 13 or so, and thanks to both of us commenting on art work a lot, we became "that one nice lady who always says what she likes about my art" and eventually "the one nice lady who's been nice enough for long enough that I want to DM her". And you would not believe the sheer amount of kids we ran into who lived in very troubled (and sometimes seriously dangerous) homes, who did not feel safe talking to their parents and who sometimes had no frame of reference for how stuff that RL adults did to them was wrong until they interacted with us in comments and DMs and realized what healthy interactions with adults at a respectful distance looked like.

Trying to remove adults who are not being creeps from fandoms for media for kids helps exactly no one other than the actual creeps who will simply pretend that they are 12 themselves.

I really have no patience for posts talking about "adults who only watch kids' cartoons," because, like...people accuse me of "only watching kids' cartoons," despite all evidence to the contrary. It doesn't matter how much I talk about other adult media I like, if I post too many things in a row about Steven Universe or The Dragon Prince or The Owl House, people come out of the goddamn woodwork to accuse me of "only watching kids' shows."

So I really can't take people seriously when they start talking about the supposed "problem" of "adults who only watch kids' shows." Are the "adults who only watch kids' cartoons" in the room with us right now, or are you basing your entire opinion of people solely on their fandom blog? Like, come on.

It makes me think of the couple years I spent volunteering in a school library. The librarian talked a lot about how it's hurtful to enforce "reading at grade-level" on every student with no nuance. Teachers would try to force their students to check out books "at proper grade-level," instead of letting students pick out whatever they wanted (even if it was "too easy"), and it resulted in a lot of students deciding books were boring, too hard, and only good for making them feel stupid. They started to hate reading entirely, because people constantly shut them down and told them they were stupid for not reading the right things. This was especially brutal on disabled students.

I personally apply the same philosophy to adults. You don't know what someone might struggle with, you don't know what someone's history is. You might think a piece of media is "too simple," but that's your experience and your opinion. People learn and grow and experience the world at different paces, and what seems to you like a "simplistic" piece of media may be the most complex, illuminating piece of media someone else has ever had the opportunity to experience. It doesn't make them "stupid" or "childish," and believing that it does is cruel and counterproductive. You cannot wield shame as a fucking cudgel if your goal is education, support, and helping people expand their horizons.

I don't think a culture of shame is helpful. I don't think a culture of "if you like 'childish' things, it means you're too stupid for anything else" is helpful. I don't think constantly making fun of children's media does anything other than demean people--and not just the people who enjoy it, but the people who make it, too.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

"Putting your hand over your heart isn't a part of a Nazi salute!"

Not the original salute no, but it is part of the salute being used by Neo Nazis. So here's a link to a video comparing them, showing his gesture was identical to a Neo Nazi salute.

https://www.reddit.com/r/france/s/2bdn5cuvf6

"Even the ADL said it wasn't a Nazi salute!"

The ADL can be wrong just like any other group of people can. You people hate their stance on hate speech, so why are you magically in agreement with them just because they support your worldview?

"It was so bad that it couldn't have been a real salute, Hitler would have killed him for mocking him!"

Bad salutes are still salutes, just as bad insurrections are still insurrections.

"He was symbolically throwing his heart to the crowd!"

Here he is doing it a second time while facing away from the crowd.

"He said his heart went out to the crowd!"

Yeah so he could have some deniability for idiots like you to cling to and defend him with.

"Kalama did the same gesture!"

She waved and pointed. You're just blind. There's something wrong with you if you can't distinguish a wave from an actual Nazi salute. Here's them being conpared side by side.

https://x.com/tify330/status/1881512417387040998

The sad part Is, if you saw this back in 2012, your immediate thought would have been "Oh my god Elon Musk did a nazi salute!", but Trump has so successfully brainwashed you, conditioned you, and groomed you, that his richest and most vocal supporter can preform a blatant Nazi salute, and you'll deny the obvious evidence before you to defend him, ignoring everything before your eyes and ears, because you've been made incapable of acknowledging the evilness, or the nature, of your cult.

It should have been obvious when he showed up to the Madison Square Garden rally in a custom black MAGA hat that used a typeface that was associated with the Hitler and the Nazis, the font the Nazis regularly used as a sign of nationalism that Hitler chose as the as the font for the cover of his autobiography.

https://www.ndtv.com/world-news/elon-musks-maga-cap-text-has-eerie-resemblance-with-hitlers-nazi-font-6903216/amp/1](https://www.ndtv.com/world-news/elon-musks-maga-cap-text-has-eerie-resemblance-with-hitlers-nazi-font-6903216/amp/1

You guys are REALLY bad at taking hints due to your programing.

"Trump, who is nothing like a nazi and never talks about nazis or white supremacists except to disavow them, brainwashed you into thinking Elon Musk isn't a nazi" sure is an interesting take.

Anyway you're putting a lot of words into my mouth and the ones you're quoting that are actually mine explain pretty well why what Elon did isn't a nazi salute, so I'm not going point by point and addressing your nonsense (especially the "nazi font" shit. Jesus do you even hear yourself?)

What I am going to address?

"Here he is doing it a second time while facing away from the crowd"

There were people behind the stage behind him. I don't know if you can see them during Elon's full speech but here's the same setup from when Trump was at the arena

You can clearly see the white star bunting that's behind Elon in the clips of him doing the "salute". The stage is in the center of the arena with people all around.

I'll also explain why I trust the ADL here, again, because apparently you either didn't see it or, more likely, your leftist brain selectively edits everything that doesn't conform to your warped world view.

The ADL is a partisan left wing group that constantly calls conservatives, but especially Trump and his allies, nazis, racists, white supremacists, anti-Semites, and every other ist and phobe under the sun. They rarely let a chance to lie about the right go by. The fact that a group like that is saying "that wasn't a nazi salute" means a lot, because they're going against the talking points of their own ideology in favor of a person they hate. When a group, even a partisan hack group like the ADL, goes against their interests and the interests of their allies in favor of a person or a group they normally can't stand, that gives their words a lot of extra weight.

She waved and pointed. You're just blind. There's something wrong with you if you can't distinguish a wave from an actual Nazi salute.

Yes. That's the point. She waved and pointed. Elon symbolically "threw his heart" to the crowd. Neither were nazi salutes. Both could made to look like one out of context. The media only cared about doing it with Elon.

I don't expect any of this to get through to you, because you still think J6 was an iNsUrReCtIoN. But maybe one day, after you grow out of this weird leftist phase, you'll look back and remember this and feel as silly as you should.

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 6>

word count: 2.5k

Sophia's POV:

Heat was roaming over my whole body as I was sitting on Roman's lap, body to body or more precisely clothes to clothes.

Mouth to mouth.

We were having a heated makeout session with slow and sloppy kisses and some little moans coming out of us.

I could feel his not so short beard tickling my whole face. Unfamiliar sensation for me since I have never made out with a too bearded guy. I could also feel his huge hands on my butt and squeezing it.

We stopped for a bit to take a breath and stare at each other. The spark of lust in his deep brown eyes let me know what he wants.

However, it's not the time or place.

"I think we must stop." I spoke through my heavy breaths.

I abruptly opened my eyes and slightly lifted my head.

What dream did I just have?

I swear this didn't happen in real life.

Me and Roman just drank ONE glass of wine then we took a nap, we got in New York and he drove me home. That's it.

I checked the time on my phone and it's almost noon.

I got home really late or must I say early - around 5am.

After I did my morning routine I put on some gray sweatpants and dark blue blouse, ready to drink my coffee and do some pilates.

Maybe talk to mom if she is here. I know it's Saturday but being a surgeon is very, very demanding job and you have to be available 24/7.

It has been like this since I remember myself.

Couldn't spend too much time with my mom, so basically my dad raised me...until he died 9 years ago.

Although it has been almost a decade, you can never get over the pain of losing a parent especially when he was so close to you.

During my college years uncle was the one who supported me to pursue my dreams. He even helped me a lot with the studies and everything.

I learned a lot from him.

I remember ever since I was a kid my dad always told me that I resemble uncle in so many ways. He even said it's like I'm uncle's daugher and not his.

My dad was way different from uncle though. While uncle has this formal, practical persona and so on, my dad was more of like a free spirit.

He was changing jobs constantly. Couldn't really keep himself in one place. I remember him and mom always argued. He just didn't like the idea of mom bringing more money at home than him. That fact was crushing him every single day until he decided to overdose and end it all.

It's kind of stupid, if you think about it, ain't it?

He could have just asked for a divorce and still be here with us but I know dad loved mom with his whole heart although mom is a very, very difficult woman.

Perfectionist at its finest, unemotional, smart.

I mean she needs these qualities for her job, I know that but I admit she is not easy. I also admit that I inherited a lot from her and it's not just the looks.

As I went downstairs to make myself some coffee I heard some voices chattering.

Oh God, did she invite somebody?

When I got in the living room, I saw my mother drinking coffee and eating with my two best friends from college - Tina and Cleo.

My two beautiful, 10/10 best friends who've been by my side since first year of college.

Tina is a long haired brunette woman with light brown eyes, skinny body and the most beautiful smile in the world and I mean it. A literal angel came from heaven and she got married a few months ago to a very good man.

He is meant just for her.

Cleo is a curly girl with light brown skin and hazel eyes. Body is tea, fashion sense too and she got engaged last month. Therefore we shall expect a wedding soon.

"Somebody forgot she invited guests over the weekend." mom scolded me.

I put my hand on my temple.

"I'm so sorry, girls." I said as I went to the table and hugged them.

"It's okay, Soph. You are a busy Wise Woman." Cleo teased me and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Oh me and Noah watched Smackdown last night. He is a big fan of the show and suddenly I am too." Tina chuckled and I slightly wrinkled my lips.

"Me and Jeremiah too. He is crazy for WWE." I scratched my neck. "You were amazing, girl. Best thing of the night and I'm not biased."

"Thank you." I batted my eyelids and looked at mother.

"I took a few glimpses. Sometimes I think you came out of your uncle, not from me." she stated and shook her head. However, she didn't quite use a cold tone, it was rather proud in a way. Judging by her expression, she is lowkey proud.

"That guy Roman is something else though. I made a comment how hot he is and Jer...just agreed." my jaw fell on the floor. "He is his favorite."

"Oh my God." I put my hand on my mouth and headed to the coffee machine in the kitchen box.

"A normal man would feel jealous but he said 'yeah, I know' and continued watching." Cleo still seemed in disbelief but so am I.

"Noah likes Cody more but he made an interesting statement." Tina hinted something and I turned on the machine while being all in ears. "He said that Roman and Sophia look cute together."

"He said what?" I turned around immediately in shock.

"He said that he envisions a deeper storyline with you two." she added and I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Storyline as in the show or storyline out of the show?" my mom asked in case she didn't understand.

"I think he meant in the show but who knows." Tina replied as I grabbed the ready coffee and went to them.

"So what's going on with yall?" I finally sat on the table.

Roman's POV:

Right now I am training with Jon and Josh in my home gym. Whenever we can, we train together. We have always been together.

Especially with the twins. We've been like triplets our whole lives. They are my closest family and friends that I have, to be honest.

We literally grew up together ever and have been through so much long before WWE.

"Uce, that Paul niece...goddamn." Josh started speaking while lifting his weights. "Seems like a big gem."

"Yeah, she completely nailed it last night." I agreed.

"And you want to nail her, don't you, Joe?" Jon just put me in the hot chair.

"What?" his younger twin furrowed his eyebrows. "Uce..."

"My plans are long-term." this is what I decided to reply.

Josh seemed really confused as hell.

"She is Paul's niece and probably around 20 years younger than you...and us." he stated and I rolled my eyes.

"Twelve years." I corrected him.

The twins exchanged looks. Josh was confused and Jon had confirming look.

"These two didn't shut up the whole ride. Me and Yoko had to move to the bedrooms." Jon pointed at me.

"Well, good luck with making a young woman like her fall for you." Josh managed to say and giving me that look of judgement.

"It's like yall don't know me." I was actually disappointed. "I can and I will get her." I declared. Damn. 'Believe that' almost came out of my mouth.

"Well, you better start working cause it seems like she has a lot of admirers and now that she got into the business, they will become even more." the elder twin advised me and I just flashed a smirk, looking down.

"Mission already started." I uttered.

Sophia's POV:

"We are in a process of wedding planning." Cleo said and my jaw dropped.

"Already?! I thought yall weren't gonna rush." I exclaimed.

"We thought that too but we tend to talk about it a lot so me and Jer actually started thinking of concepts." my friend had that amazing glow of a freshly engaged woman and the excitement rush of planning a wedding.

I am really happy that they found the right guys for them. Sometimes I can't help but wonder when I will find mine.

The door bell cut off Cleo's storytime.

Mom got up saying that she will check who it might be.

"As of now we are thinking about a small spring wedding, like a garden party with lots of flowers." me and Tina nodded in agreement, liking the idea.

I suddenly saw my mom going into the room carrying a bouquet with a white wrapping and red flowers.

They looked kinda like lilium but I'm not quite sure.

"These ones seem like a great idea." she got into the conversation and my friends also turned to her, shocked at the view.

"Does my mom have a secret admirer?" I cocked my eyebrow and smirked. I mean she is a pretty attractive woman and she has always been but her next man has to be a billionaire or something.

"They are for you actually." she replied and handed me the bouquet.

The flowers were red on the outside and white on the inside. Insanely pretty and smell amazing, too.

Oh my God.

I saw there was a not so little card in it and it was written 'for Sophia'.

"The WWE men started with the wooing." Tina commented.

"Can you read it aloud? Please." Cleo begged.

"My dear Wise Woman. Seeing you last night trying to read "Goddesses in every woman" (I didn't quite leave you but it still made me think) evoked a thought in my head which goddess hides in you. My first thought was Aphrodite but then I realized you are actually Athena - the goddess of wisdom. I also did a research about her that she is portrayed as a companion of heroes (me in the case). I also checked out that the Roman equation of Athena is Minerva and the flowers you see in this bouquet are Amaryllis 'Minerva' symbolising determination and strength. Also, they kinda look like you ;)

Sincerely from Your Tribal Chief"

I rested my back on the chair trying to process everything I just read right now.

My friends had the same reaction and I swear I could see surprise in mom's face too.

"Holy, these old school men don't play." Cleo grabbed her curly hair. "How many times have you two met?"

"Just two. Last night and when I was hired." I replied.

"Olivia, I think you have a son in law in the way." Tina warned mom.

"Let's see how long he is gonna keep this energy. He is an athlete after all." mom shrugged it off.

"A hella romantic one, though. Goddamn." Cleo swore once again. "Old school men really don't play. This is exactly how you do it."

I bit my lips trying to hide the big grin that would stick on my mouth.

This is romantic, indeed adding the fact that I have always associated myself with Athena and Roman has no idea. He was just thinking about this.

"What are you waiting for? Call Roman and thank him." Tina scolded me.

"Right." I mumbled and took my phone then left the table, so I could talk in private.

He gave me his number the day we met, so we have our contacts.

I dialed his number and I felt my heart pounding fast in my chest.

I am still feel the adrenaline in my blood. This is literally the sweetest thing a man has ever done for me.

"Hey." I heard his bass-deep voice that could drive any woman crazy and I am no different.

"Hi, Roman." I replied with my soft feminine voice.

"I received your present." I continued talking and bit my lip. "Thank you so much for the gesture and especially the astonishingly detailed card." I chuckled slightly. "You just left me speechless really." I spoke frankly.

I heard his deep chuckle.

"I am a man of detail, sweetheart. Remember that." he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone and I almost fell to the ground.

A detailed man? Oh my God. Literally my dream.

"I love the flowers too." I added. "Thank you so much once again. Can't spell romantic without Roman." I giggled at the realization I just had and I heard him laughing.

"You said it alone."

"You are welcome, Soph. I am capable of even more but you are gonna see in the future." I swear to God he would wink at me if we were face to face right now.

"Can't wait." I bit my lips.

"By the way, what are your plans for today?" he changed the topic.

"I am hanging out with my friends now then I will work out and then I don't know. What about you?" I literally have no plans for later.

"Well how about we go out tonight?" he asked me.

"Hmm...where?" I replied with a question. I know I shouldn't agree immediately.

"Somewhere nice." I hate him. Why doesn't he tell me the specific place? Did he think about it or he is as of now.

"Okay." I said after a few seconds.

"Great. Be ready at 7. I'm gonna pick you up." Roman said with a note of command which I cannot help but find hot in a way unless he crosses the line.

"See ya." I said and hung up.

Okay, what should I wear?

"Definitely not that" Cleo said with judging tone after I showed them an option from my wardrobe.

"I think you should stop with your snobbish business outfits and pull something out of the slut wardrobe." Tina advised me and started roaming into the clothes in my big wardrobe.

"Something with big cleavage." Cleo gave her clues and she pulled out a very, very short red dress that I have which is more for the club.

"Girls, I am dealing with the face of sports entertainment. He is taking me to a dinner at a very expensive restaurant, most likely and not the local pub, okay?" I tried to explain them the deal since they don't seem to understand.

"Plus, he is an elder man, not one of our peers." I added.

"True." Tina agreed. "Then something classy" she started looking around again.

"And still revealing but noy so much." Cleo yelled after her. "Revealing cleavage but not so short."

"I think I found the one." Tina announced as she pulled out a hanger with black sleevless dress and a black little fur collar.

I put it on me to see where is the length and it's a bit below the knees which makes it perfect, in my opinion.

"Oh my. I completely forgot about this set." I gasped.

"It's even still with the tag on it." Tina almost facepalmed.

"Some black heels and pretty necklace and you are ready, sweetie." Cleo said.

"Plus your signature hair volume and natural curls." Tina made a chef's kiss. "Make him weak."

"He is a professional athlete. There is nothing weak about him." I slapped them with logic once again.

"Okay but he is still a man. Make him nervous." Cleo said in one of these villian-like daring tone.

I licked my lips.

"We'll see." I just said.

[wolvesbaneandbuttercups]

respectfully i'd disagree on it being helpful at all. I'm not saying you dont experience opression or denying to what degree it is. what im saying is that the labels create a further divide in the community, and are not very helpful.

The label to me, fails to encompass how transmisogyny effects more than just transgender women, and how transgender men and nonbinary people and intersex people also are effected by it as well. To me, no trans person is transmisogyny exempt, people just experience it in different ways (a transman or transmasc for example would face the misogyny from being afab, whilst a transfem would face misogyny from her transition from male to female, and intersex people have their own experiences with it as well, etc.) theres lots of intersectionality for transgender people between the two things.

You are right in that murder rates for trans women are higher, and i dont want you to have to stop talking about that or any other oppression you face. But there inst a need for tma and tme when trans people across the board experience transgender and misogyny based oppression across the board in different ways. it dosnt seem very "trans solidarity" to me?

I worded my initial post poorly because tbh, i was frustrated and didnt expect people to even see it because i'm not a discourse blogger. i reblog silly photos here, so i didn't intend for it to get over 100 notes and all that.

I dont really want to continue blogging about this, i try to keep my online life positive because my real life one is not so great. I just scream into the void occasionally and not much more. So i hope you understand my view, and know im not trying to discount oppression or attack trans women and trans fems

imma be real, I hate the terms TMA and TME. It divides trans people much in the same way AGAB does (which, ur assigned gender at birth is honestly imo only important for doctors to know), yes trans women and trans men and nonbinary folk all face seperate flavors of misogyny, but instead of dividing it up on "who has it worse" Trauma Olympics™️ style we should work together to uplift eachother instead of creating a divide away from eachother. Stop dividing us up into categories based around who experiences the "Worse" oppression, because we fucking all face it and we all are fucking dying!! Community infighting makes this shit worse.

Trans women get killed because of transphobia

Trans men get killed because of transphobia

Nonbinary people get killed because of transphobia

Instead of TME/TMA labels why don't we, idk, fucking help eachother not die???? Instead of creating labels like those and fighting over it fucking help eachother instead, dosnt matter what flavor of trans you are because to the transphobics and TERFs we're all dirty trannies.

Uplift eachothers voices, stop putting eachother down with pointless community infighting and trauma olympics

[sorinethemastermind]

Reunion

In which Harrow sees his sons again. [because @lunanightriderofthecove wanted a sequel to this one where Harrow sees his sons again and I thought that was a splendid idea. Happy Birdthday to the King of Katolis!]

Harrow cocked his head, glancing up at Opeli above him, adjusting his perch on her arm. He ruffled his feathers and let out a small coo, drawing her attention. She looked at him with an expression someplace between confusion and pi-

Oh, was that a bug?

Harrow lifted off from her arm, surroundings temporarily forgotten, and soared through the great double doors Soren had just opened to land on the red carpeted floor. He hurried forward, jabbing at the ground with his beak until he'd managed to skewer the cricket.

A loud thump came from behind him and he jumped, images of Viren and cage doors slamming flashing through his mind. He took to the skies again, except the sky had been replaced by a marble ceiling, cloudless and white. He squawked, panicking filling for a moment before-

"Dad?"

The voice snapped him back into his own mind again and he settled on a nearby table, turning to search for it's source. There was a throne at the end off the great hall, familiar though the wood was now scorched and blackened. And seated in it was...

He flew forward, wings flapping frantically. He looked so different, so much older. But Harrow would have known that face anywhere. It didn't matter how long he hadn't been himself, it was his son. He lighted on the arm of the throne, staring up into Ezran's big blue eyes as they filled with tears.

He was certainly older, and not just physically. Harrow could see the crown - silver in place of gold, but still just as heavy - sitting on his brow. The lines under his eyes that no child should have. Except he was no longer a child, was he? A teenager?

Harrow experienced the strange sensation of knowing that he was crying without the capacity to cry. The same feeling but none of the affects. He took a tentative step forward, talons hooking into the wood as he leaned as close as he could. He reached out, brushing his hand against Ezran's outstretched hand. He cooed, knowing his words didn't matter but wanting to say them anyway.

Except Ezran smiled through the tears, a small laugh forming in the back of his throat, "Yeah, I'm okay. I missed you, too."

Harrow stared up at him, then leapt forward into his lap, gazing up into his eyes as he began twittering again.

Ezran wrapping both hands gently around him, thumb gently stroking his feathers. But Harrow knew the touch for what it was. A hold, tight, but not constricting. As though he was afraid he'd slip through his fingers at any moment.

"Yes, he's okay, too." Ezran glanced across the room for a moment, "Soren, will you go and get Callum? And Rayla, too."

"You got it!"

Harrow turned to watch the Crownguard spin on his heel and hurry from the room, Opeli right on his heels. He had grown so much, too. But not just that, he had also changed. So much had changed. And he had missed all of it.

Harrow turned back to his son, cooing another question.

Ezran smiled, tears still spilling silently down his cheeks, "You'll like Rayla. She's Callum's girlfriend."

Harrow twittered and watched Ezran's face fall. He hopped closer, cocking his head to the side worriedly.

"Yeah I... I guess he did finally get over her. There's a lot to tell you, Dad. I don't really know where to start."

The beginning, Harrow prompted. He would have been happy to listen to Ezran talk about anything for hours, anything at all.

His son took a deep breath, but instead of answering his questions, he asked one of his own, "Did Lord Viren do this to you?"

Harrow's eyes narrowed and he dipped his head, squawking a frustrated confirmation. When he got his han- talons on that traitorous mage he would-

"He's dead," Ezran told him, gently.

Harrow stopped his squawking, staring up at him. A wave of emotion crashed over him, confusing and unexpected. Surely not... sadness. Not after everything Viren had done?

"I'll explain everything once Callum is here," Ezran assured him. Then he added; "I'm so glad you're back, Dad."

Harrow cooed in agreement, rubbing his head against Ezran's hand once again. Just then the doors flew open behind them and he turned to find Callum standing in the doorway, taller and wearing-

Wearing the robes of the High Mage's office, a white streak through his hair.

An image of Viren, not much older than his son must now be, standing in a similar outfit and a similar castle flashed before his eyes.

But then Callum took a hesitant step forward, gait breaking into a run, and the image was forgotten.

"Dad!" he cried, dropping to his knees before the throne to throw his arms around Harrow, who stepped forward into his son's embrace. He cooed softly, nuzzling Callum's cheek with his head.

"He says he's glad you're okay, and that he loves you very much," Ezran supplied.

Callum pulled away after a moment, staring down at him with wide eyes. "We're going to get you out of there," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I know a spell that will fix all of this."

Harrow stared up at him, once again the image of Viren flashing over his son's face. He looked away, gaze wandering over the room to land on-

The assassins. They had found him. Somehow they were here.

Harrow launched himself into the air, squawking furiously as he tried to draw Callum and Ezran's attention. The elf, who had previously been skulking in the doorway, flinched back. He saw Soren reach out towards her and for a moment felt reassured, but the Crownguard merely patted her on the shoulder before pushing her gently into the room. Of course. Why had he trusted Viren's son?

Except then Callum turned, eyes lighting up at the sight of her, and beckoned her forward as well. She walked hesitantly to his side and his son straightened up, tucking an arm around her waist. Harrow stopped cawing and lighted back on the arm of the throne, wings spread protectively before Ezran.

"Dad, this is Rayla. My girlfriend," Callum said. The elf gave a small wave.

"We're at peace now, with the elves," Ezran said from behind him and Harrow turned to look at him. "Didn't Soren tell you?"

An image of a green haired elf surfaced from his memory, hand outstretched and full of berries. Harrow lowered his wings, cooing softly with embarrassment. He remembered, now, Soren introducing him. And- and there had been another person there, too. Not one of Viren's children. Corvin? Corvus! He had been there as well, working alongside the elf with comfortable familiarity.

Harrow dipped his head beneath his wing. It was becoming harder and harder to connect the dots. To hold onto the pieces of himself that weren't as close to his heart. He could feel things slipping away from him, things he knew he should know and remember. But the image of his sons had always remained clear in his mind, an anchor holding him together at his center, keeping all the drifting pieces together. Or as together as they could be.

"It's okay," Ezran reached out and stroked his head, seeming to sense his worry. "Callum is going to get you back."

Harrow looked up at his sons, glancing between them. Ezran gave him a watery eyed smile and Callum knelt back down to reach out and hold him again. The three of them reunited at last.

Whatever had happened over the years he'd been gone, however much they had grown and changed, these were his sons. And so long as he held onto that knowledge, he knew nothing else mattered.