#it's applicable to all of them so why not

[the-warlock-syndicate]

Its not about resonating with something. That is not the fundamental objection that a lot of people have to AI. Its concern for the economics and their livelihoods, its concern that it will dilute and cheapen real art, its concern that it will be a net negative for society as we all get drowned in a tide of spam and AI slop. It doesn't matter if you write a quality book if your competitor churns out 10 mediocre ones saturating the market.

There is a degree of over reaction I think. Advances in science applications and medical I think are reasonable.

But the problem with your 'just let art be art and judge on merit' stance is that in order to hold it, you have to accept a couple of unwritten assumptions, and gloss over the fact that AI art has dubious moral implications in the first place.

Let's assume that we are all on the same page, and accept that some people at least see a moral hazard in use of AI. We don't need to go into the arguments for it, nor the details, nor the magnitude. Now, for the sake of comparison, let's look at something else that is more widely considered to be morally dubious. Sweatshop labor.

Now if we reframe your arguments, but replace AI as the technology with sweatshop labor, we start to see trouble. Ignore the fact that some art is made by fairly compensated artists and some by sweatshops, just judge on merit. How they make you feel. If the sweatshop art is more compelling to you, stop having knee-jerk reactions to sweatshop labor and just accept it, so your mental health doesn't suffer.

But we all know that chastising people for wanting to avoid products with exploitative labor is more unambiguously troubling that doing so for AI.

And before you get on my case for being hyperbolic, consider that I drew the comparison deliberately. AI and sweatshop labor are both forms of production with serious ethical quandries involved in using them. They permit corporations to make art far more cheaply and faster than corporations engaging in more ethical behavior. There have in fact already been serious ethical concerns raised about animation companies outsourcing anime or cartoons to East Asian countries under exploitative labor situations, to the detriment of more ethical but more expensive animation companies. And just like AI, some people don't see the moral hazard as concerning enough to change habits. Some people still watch shows produced that way, some people refuse to do so.

So why shouldn't people who see serious moral issues with the use of AI boycott any such products on principle? Their argument is with the morality of using it in the first place, and yours is about the quality of the art. Now some people make arguments about the quality of the art against AI, but I think a lot of these are just humoring people holding your views. If you aren't convinced by ethics, and are only concerned with quality of art, the low hanging fruit in this argument is that a lot of AI stuff is mediocre at best and awful at worst. It looks bad, and there is no intent to it. It says nothing, and the prompter isn't adding anything to the process save being an ideas guy.

And if outliers appear good? To some people with standards relaxed enough to view them that way? The 1 in 10,000 that looks good is held up is that standard that they should all be judged by, completely ignoring the trash one has to sift through to find the treasure.

related to last reblog. the AI panic as it exists on social media right now, decoupled from any real analysis of labour relations, is a mass epidemic of millions of people giving each other moral OCD.

you people discard anything that isn't completely pure; you flame a music artist and spread callouts about them for using an AI generated soundbite as a sample, you boycott a movie for using an AI tool to clean up audio recordings, you disavow an entire scientific field for using AI for statistical modelling, you send death threats to some 15 year old kid for playing with character AI. you have this compulsive need to signpost being "anti AI" every time you are "tricked" into feeling a genuine emotion. you are so afraid of experiencing an emotional response to "morally corrupt" art or technology you think it's gonna turn you into a "morally corrupt" person.

there's no end goal to this behaviour, you're going to keep categorising your feelings into ones that you are "allowed" and "not allowed" to feel; you're going to keep resonating with things that you don't fully morally agree with, you're going to worry yourself sick by fighting the part of yourself that appreciates aspects of it. It's an endless spiral. stop encouraging each other with this behaviour, it's like the pro-ana shit all over again.

just let yourself feel for fucks sake. your emotional response to a shitty little AI voice clip of ben shapiro talking about lolita dresses has no bearing on what you believe is good for the world. and I know you people are trying to suppress your emotional responses the way you comment "this is the only good use of AI" under any popular comedic AI generated video, cuz apparently comedy is the only emotion exempt from moral interrogation for most of you

[velvetvexations]

I don't ever want to come off like I'm scolding people for how they respond to the absolutely insane aggression they get on a daily basis. Posts calling out "transmisogyny" among people who discuss transandrophobia has gotten on my nerves some, particuarly about OOPs that just made me think "Ha! Good one." I regret not being more vocal when I disagreed with something like that because I feel like it was a genuine failure on my part to not stick up for people having extremely restrained reactions to people coming at them first much more viciously much more often.

Having said that, let's please, please remember that no trans woman needs to unlearn toxic masculinity. If a trans woman hates people with vulvas, it's just the same misogyny cis women exhibit and get from the same source: the constant messaging in society that those people are stupid and weak and annoying. It doesn't uniquely effect trans women because we were generally male socialized, that messaging is omnipresent and results in internalized misogyny in cis women extremely frequently. "Male socialization" is itself an extremely broad range of experiences and not even applicable to all trans women, some of whom report being female socialized or otherwise treated distinctly from other children AMAB growing up.

We do not need to speculate that much on why some trans women act like that. Just as they're capable of being misogynistic because it came free with living in a misogynistic society, so is everyone. It's not about being raised one way or the other. There's not really any way to square this position with opposition to sex-segregation, since it must necessarily justify the position that people AFAB need special exclusive spaces away from people who might still carry negative traits exclusive to male socialization. And that's not even true of cis men, let alone trans women.

[yanderegarden]

Love 100mg Warning: May be addictive

KATSUKI BAKUGO

TW: yandere-themes, non-con/dub-con ideations, profanity, kidnapping, emotional, verbal, & physical abuse, implied drug-use & addiction, withdrawal symptoms, violence, blood, forced confinement. Fem reader

Tip-Jar

You and Bakugo grew up in the same town, on the same street, and attended the same schools, yet barely exchanged anything more than a simple glance in the hallways.

Growing up, you can recall briefly watching him from the entry hall window of your home, admiring his confidence even as a child. His belief that he was capable of anything could be felt even from houses away.

Your parents kept you sheltered as a child. You had the urge to go and play with the other kids, but knowing there wasn’t much you could do, you were content staying inside.

Developing a passion for your studies at a young age, you became fascinated with your courses. Excelling in middle school, you were one of the top students.

It wasn’t until one year in middle school that you were formally introduced to Bakugo—when you both tied for first place in the science fair. You had envisioned Bakugo as someone who was confident, strong-willed, and kind...

Little did you know, his jealousy of being at the top was paired with the will to be the only one there. You felt an uneasy feeling standing next to him as you both had your picture taken by the school newspaper, holding a trophy together. You won’t forget how you tried congratulating him, saying, "I don’t know how they expected us to share this medal," attempting to lighten the mood. But he simply replied, "Keep the stupid medal. It'll probably be the last one you get." From that moment on, you steered clear of Bakugo.

No longer did you have long, pondering stares at him from your bedroom window, fantasizing about what he was like or how he treated his friends. Instead, you chose to focus on yourself, your studies, and your life. When graduation day came, you applied to the public high schools in the area. Considering the reaction you had faced when Bakugo declared he'd be the only one attending UA High, you decided to stay away. You had seen the way he treated Midoriya and chose not to touch that with a ten-foot pole. Why take the risk? you asked yourself

It wasn't until your parents told you that a mutual hero friend of theirs had extended a letter of recommendation for UA High’s General Studies course and applied on your behalf.

The school welcomed your application, considering that a pro hero had recommended you for your intelligence.

You told your parents it wasn’t a great idea—that it would be expensive, that you didn’t want to place that financial burden on them, that you’d rather stay closer to home and your friends. What you didn’t disclose was that you’d rather not be anywhere near Bakugo.

They dismissed your concerns, insisting you didn’t know what you were talking about. You should be excited that a hero recommended you—it would be rude to disrespect a hero like that, they said. Do you think you know better? Eventually, they bullied you into agreeing.

And so, there you were, ready to join Class 1-C.

"This won’t be so bad?" you muttered under your breath, using the palms of your hands to flatten your uniform’s skirt and straighten your tie. You adjusted the strap of your school bag over your shoulder, took a deep breath, and forced a smile on your face—whether it was genuine or not.

The first year went by fast, and you were already in the middle of your second year, but you were drowning. Overwhelmed by your parents pressure to do well in your studies, and struggling because you still hadn't made any close friends—if any at all. You began to feel more sensitive to teachers' criticism. Riddled with anxiety whenever you saw Bakugo in the hallways, even though he barely paid you any attention.

That’s when you started sneaking out of the dorms at night.

Was it because of loneliness? Boredom? The crushing weight of responsibilities and missed, late schoolwork? You didn’t know.

But you knew that, out there, you could finally breathe.

A deep inhale of fresh air. The darkness and coolness of the night surrounding you. No thoughts—just the sound of the world asleep, the occasional car passing by.

It became a habit. Slipping out for a few hours. At first, you stayed on campus, walking the grounds, avoiding security. You had a spot near the forest where you would simply lie down and watch the stars. Then, you started venturing into the town surrounding UA.

You were surprised by how different it was at night. During the day, it was just another city. But at night? The streets were alive—vivid lights, bustling crowds, music, laughter, the smell of street food wafting through the air. You felt like an outsider at UA high, but it was different when you went out at night. At first, you were nervous to explore. You stuck to familiar places close to school, opting to visit a ramen shop, and after a warm meal, your belly full, your eyelids grew heavy. You began to get ready to leave, until a young man—who looked about your age—smiled at you. You glanced down, blushing. He approached the table. "Hello," he greeted. You hesitated but nodded. "You can sit next to me if you’d like."

You talked. What felt like minutes turned into an hour. He never ordered anything, but eventually, he asked if you’d like to walk around town. You agreed. He was polite. A gentleman, you thought. Opening doors for you, holding your bag, eventually—your hand.

You felt flattered. Someone was finally paying attention to you.

Your quiet, shy demeanor often came off as rude to others, but in reality, being sheltered for so long had made you excel academically but fail socially. So when a cute boy your age showed interest, you felt a warmth in your chest.

He bought you tea. Took you to a park. The two of you sat on a bench, watching the koi fish in a pond. Then, you looked up and caught him staring at you. His face instantly flushed, sheepishly laughed and quickly looked away. You giggled. Finally, he asked, "So, what’re you doing out here so late? A girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be out here on the mean streets all alone," he joked.

You laughed, explaining how you felt like you couldn’t breathe inside the dorms, how you were stressed from loneliness, overwhelmed by homework. You rambled, spilling your guts to a stranger.

But he let you.

You apologized for talking so much, but he simply shook his head.

"No need to apologize. I understand. I was going to a high school around here, but I eventually dropped out. My parents kicked me out, and now I live in an apartment down here."

You frowned. "Hmm… I’m sorry."

"I'm alright. I'd rather live on my own than have my parents nagging me every day. Better this way," he said. You agreed, somewhat relating to his situation. "Especially since I can do this all I want now." He pulled out what looked like a cigarette, lit it, and took a slow drag. "Oh shit, sorry. Did you want some?" he asked while letting out a cough. You shook your head. "Oh no, thank you. What even is it?" He smirked. "Weed." You gave him a confused look. "Devil's lettuce?" he teased. "Cannabis?" You laughed, turning red, embarrassed by your own naivety. You had heard of it, of course, but you had never seen or smelled it before.

Suddenly, you were fascinated. "What does it do?" you asked curiously. He smiled. "C'mere."

You leaned in, and so did he—until his lips pressed against yours. You kissed him back, only to feel smoke filling your lungs. You coughed, your eyes widening. Then, out of nowhere, an overwhelming urge to laugh took over you, so you did. And so did he.

That night was the beginning.

Sneaking out to meet him, to smoke, to escape—it became a habit. A few weeks passed, and then he introduced you to alcohol. Then, other substances.

You started spending nights at his apartment.

You felt guilty, knowing your parents and teachers would disapprove of this behavior. But you didn’t care.

The stress, the loneliness, the weight of expectations—it all disappeared when you were with him, when you were using. You began to love being high.

You barely made it through your second year with passing grades. You were forced to take summer classes. Eventually, the school had to intervene. A meeting was called with your parents, the principal, and the vice principal. They listed everything—your grades, your frequent absences, your improper dresscode.

"We’re so very sorry for our daughter. Please excuse her shameful behavior. We have failed as parents, but we will do our best to get her back on the right path," your parents exclaimed, bowing their heads in shame.

You sat there, numb. Unmoved. It wasn’t until after the meeting that your parents let loose, yelling at you for what felt like hours. You tried to find your passion for studying again, but the truth was, your real passion had become the feeling of being inebriated.

Eventually, you learned how to balance doing the bare minimum in school while still getting high your last year. You started sneaking your friend into the dorms, buying drugs from him, getting high in your room.

"Wow, this school is for rich kids, huh? You never told me you went to a rich kid school. Are you rich?" he asked, looking around with amusement. You laughed at his dorky demeanor. "No, I’m not. My stupid parents made me go here on a scholarship. I hate it." He chuckled, and you sighed. That night, you showed him around campus, wandering the grounds.

Eventually, you stopped by a vending machine, digging into your pocket for some change. Then, you heard footsteps. You turned quickly, covering his mouth with your hand. "Be quiet," you mouthed, bringing a finger to your lips.

His eyes widened.

You could tell—he was scared. Scared to be caught, to be punished. Arrested... again. Then, just like that, your oh-so-reliable friend chose to run. You slapped your forehead and groaned loudly. The footsteps were getting closer. Panic set in. You crouched down, pressing yourself against the vending machine side, hoping—praying—that whoever was approaching wouldn’t walk past.

You shut your eyes. Your heart pounded in your ears.

Then—

"What’re you doing crouching by a vending machine?"

Your eyes snapped open.

Bakugo.

Relief left your lungs in a sharp exhale. "Oh, it’s just you," you muttered.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Just me?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

Quickly, you got up, dusted off your knees, and tried to walk past him—only to feel a firm hand grip the sleeve of your collar.

"Who was that with you?" he demanded.

"Who? What? He was n— I mean, there was no one with me."

"Hey!" He shoved you back against the vending machine.

Your breath hitched.

"I don’t need off-campus losers sneaking in and causing problems for me. I’m on my way to the top, and I don’t have time for trash like that screwing things up. Keep your outside garbage out there."

You scoffed, shoving his hand off of you.

"Shut up. You don’t know anything. It’s dark out. You thought you saw two people? It was just me. Go get your eyes checked."

He pushed your arms to your sides and growled, "Listen, I know what I saw, and by the looks of it, you shouldn’t be hanging out with someone like that anyway."

You stayed silent. "I can smell the alcohol on your breath. Your hair reeks of smoke. And you look like you belong on the street right now," he seethed. You held your breath.

"What’s it matter to you?" you finally spat. "One less person to get in your way of becoming a hero, right?" He didn’t reply. So, you kept talking. "So what? You gonna tell someone? Go ahead. Do it. I don’t care anymore anyway." Your voice cracked. You looked down in shame, muttering the last part under your breath.

He sighed. "You used to be an honors student. Maybe I should tell someone—get you kicked out. Not like it’ll make much of a difference whether you’re here or not. You don’t talk to anyone here anyway,” he muttered the last part.

That was it. That was the last straw. You mustered up the courage and drove your knee into his crotch. His grip on you instantly loosened as he grunted in pain. Wasting no time, you grabbed your bag from the ground and bolted.

You didn’t stop running until you felt you were far enough away. Only then did you glance back—he was gone. When you finally reached your dorm, you collapsed onto your bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

The next few weeks were spent in a state of paranoia. Every time a teacher so much as glanced your way, your heart pounded, fearing they’d pull you aside, take you to the office, and demand to search your bag. You tried to keep a low profile. No more using in the dorms. No more using at all. But it was too difficult. After a month, it became clear—Bakugo wasn’t going to say anything. Even so, you vowed never to bring your friend onto campus again. Instead, you snuck out at night, bought what you needed, and returned immediately.

That was supposed to be the end of it. But then, you started to feel it—eyes on you. Watching. Walking from class to class. At lunch. During breaks.

It was Bakugo.

You avoided eye contact at all costs. If I don’t acknowledge him, he’ll eventually stop. But he didn’t. Instead, it led to painfully awkward encounters—bumping into each other in the hallways, turning a corner only to find him there.

You even spotted him hanging around outside the 1-C dormitories. You brushed it off. It’s just a coincidence. He must know someone here. He just happened to be there at the same time as me. Still, a voice in the back of your mind nagged at you. Why would he care about a failing, drug-using student like me?

One night, for the first time in a while, you decided to sneak out again. Creeping out of your bottom-story dormitory window, you took a quiet walk across the school grounds, heading downtown.

Just as you were about to put your headphones in, you felt one being yanked from your ear.

You jumped, heart pounding—Bakugo.

"Where d'ya think you're going? Academic students have a curfew."

You scoffed. "I could say the same for you, hero course."

You put your headphone back in and kept walking, ignoring him. But he grabbed your bag. Hard. You barely had time to react before the force yanked you backward. He caught you before you hit the ground.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" you snapped, shoving him off.

"You're my problem, junkie."

You scoffed, disgusted. "I'm not a junkie," you muttered under your breath. But then he grabbed your bag again, and this time, everything inside went flying onto the pavement.

Panic set in. You scrambled to pick up your things before he could see—but it was too late. His eyes scanned the scattered items: a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a pipe, multiple baggies—powders, pills, and plants.

His face went cold.

The amusement in harassing you disappeared instantly. "Fuck off already," you spat, stuffing everything back into your bag.

"I didn't realize it was this bad."

You didn’t reply. You just turned and speed-walked away.

He didn’t follow.

And you were relieved.

Months passed. Your grades tanked your 3rd year. Your addiction got worse. Skipping classes became routine—opting instead to get high at your friend’s apartment. "Alright, I'm gonna head out and re-up on that shit you like," he said, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled across his bed, sheets messy, clothes and empty beer cans scattered on the floor.

A cigarette dangled from your lips as you practiced blowing smoke rings. Minutes passed.

Then, the door creaked open."Hey, back already? Finally. Let's get this party started," you called out, pushing yourself up.

But as you stepped into the living room, you froze.

Standing there, bloodied and bruised, was Bakugo.

You stared.

So did he. For a long, suffocating moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, finally, you found your voice. "Whose blood is that?"

Silence.

His fists, still clenched, dripped with blood. His knuckles were torn open. He stepped closer.

"We graduate soon, y'know," he muttered. "Only a few weeks left."

Something about him felt different—more dangerous.

His presence was overwhelming. He had only grown taller, stronger over the past 2 years. Meanwhile, you felt like you had only gotten smaller.

"I'm gonna be a full-fledged hero soon." He let out a dry laugh. "My parents helped me tour condominiums. I have one now too,” he bragged.

Your heart pounded. He was dodging your question. And he was still getting closer.

Your mind raced. I just need to get past him. Run out the door. It'll be fine. "Yeah. That’s cool, Bakugo. Good for you." You forced a nod. "Listen, what are you doing her—"

"That scum you hang around with," he interrupted. "You realize he's corrupting you? And you're too much of an idiot to know any better."

Another step forward.

You moved back, knocking over a lamp. Glass shattered, startling you. "Yeah, he's just a friend I like to hang out with. I was lon—"

"You had me!" Bakugo snapped. Your breath hitched. "You could’ve talked to me."

Your brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You were in class 1-A, and I was in 1-C. I barely saw you."

"I mean as a kid." The words hit like a brick. "You barely made eye contact with me. Always thinking you were better than me. But look at you now." He sneered. "You're desperate for someone to come rescue you."

Your jaw clenched. "I don't need anyone to rescue me, Bakugo. I think you should go."

You backed up again—only to hit the wall.

Nowhere left to go. Bakugo exhaled through his nose, staring down at you. "I’m gonna help you. You’ll sober up. Gain some weight."

Your stomach twisted. "Let’s just make this easy on both of us. Come with me."

For a moment, you were silent. Then, you burst into laughter. It was loud, almost hysterical—whether it was genuine or not, you weren’t sure.

"You find this funny?"

"Yes! I do, actually!" you snapped. "I’m practically an adult! You can’t just take me. I’m not your responsibility. Now move."

You motioned for him to step aside.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he grabbed your wrist. Instinct kicked in. "Hey, get the fuck off me—!" In a blink, he flipped you over his back.

Panic surged through you. You kicked, heels slamming into his legs, struggling to break free—But his grip was like iron. And for the first time in your life… You were genuinely terrified. You pounded your fists against his back, kicked your legs, did anything to try and break free. But you were still coming down from a high—your movements sluggish, weak, useless.

Bakugo didn’t waver. His grip was iron, his hold on you unrelenting.

"Don’t worry," he kept muttering under his breath. "I’m gonna get you out of this shithole." When he pushed open the apartment stairway door, you were met with a sight that made your stomach drop.

Your friend—beaten, bruised, and bloody—lay motionless on the ground.

You screamed.

"Let go of me, you psychopath!"

He ignored you. Without hesitation, he dragged you outside and threw you into the trunk of his car. Before you could fight back, your wrists and ankles were bound tightly with zip ties. The trunk slammed shut, sealing you in darkness.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. The drive felt endless. Every bump in the road made your restraints dig deeper into your skin. Your mind raced. Where was he taking you? What was he going to do?

By the time the car finally stopped and the trunk opened, the cold night air rushed over you. As soon as you saw an opening, you lunged, trying to make a break for it.

You didn’t get far. In seconds, he was on you—pinning you to the ground, his weight pressing you into the dirt.

"Calm the fuck down. I’m helping you." You thrashed, screamed for help, but no one came. His palm pressed against your wrists, keeping you restrained as he dragged you inside.

You barely had time to process before you were inside a large condominium—immaculate, modern, and painfully unfamiliar.

Your chest heaved, lungs burning from exertion and panic. "Why are you doing this?" Your voice cracked. "Why do you even care?"

He didn’t answer.

He just threw you to the floor and sliced the zip ties off your wrists with a pocket knife. The moment your hands were free, you lunged at him, fists swinging wildly.

He barely flinched. Within seconds, he had you pinned again, his hand tightening around your throat as he lifted you against the wall. His crimson eyes burned into yours, his grip just shy of suffocating.

"Lose this fucking attitude before I get pissed." Fury boiled inside you. You spit in his face. The instant it landed, you regretted it.

His jaw tensed. Without a word, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you toward a door.

Pain shot through your scalp, but you barely had time to react before you were being dragged down a flight of stairs—into the basement.

It was cold. Damp. The air was heavy with dust and mildew. Your stomach dropped. "Bakugo—" He shoved you against a metal support beam and began tying your wrists together with an extension cord to the beam. The plastic of the cord and cold metal beam bit into your skin. You thrashed, screamed louder—but your throat burned, raw from all the yelling.

No one came. No one was going to. With a final tug, he secured the knot, turned, and walked up the stairs.

The basement door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed you whole. For the first time since this nightmare began, you let yourself cry. Tears rolled down your cheeks, hot and bitter, as you tried to process what had just happened.

How had it come to this? You screamed again—until your throat ached too much to continue. You were thirsty. You were cold. You were alone. Eventually, exhaustion overtook your body, and you passed out.

When you woke, the basement door creaked open. Heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Bakugo.

In his hands, he carried a bucket and a towel. You scrambled back as far as your restraints would allow, pressing yourself against the cold beam. He crouched down, soaking the towel in water before wringing it out. Without a word, he reached forward, pressing it against your face.

You jerked away instantly, turning your head to avoid his touch.

But he was persistent. Every time you moved, he followed. Until, finally, he grabbed your chin—forcing you to look at him. His grip wasn’t as harsh as before, but it was firm.

And for the first time since this all began, he was silent. No threats. No taunts. Just silence. Slowly, he wiped away the sweat and dirt clinging to your skin.

Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of scissors. Your breath hitched. The cold metal grazed your arm, and for a moment, panic surged inside you. You were trembling now, eyes wide, heart hammering— But then, with a single motion, he began cutting your uniform away. Fabric fell in shreds, leaving you in just a bra and underwear. A fresh wave of humiliation crashed over you, your body shaking violently from both the cold and fear. Still, he said nothing.

He continued wiping down your arms, your stomach, your legs—his touch clinical, methodical. Your heartbeat was so loud you swore he could hear it. Then, just as quickly as it started, it was over. He pulled a clean T-shirt over your body—his, oversized and heavy with the scent of burnt caramel and musk.

Without another word, he tossed the bucket aside. "You can piss and shit in here." The bucket clattered against the floor. Then, he turned to leave.

You hesitated before finally croaking out, "What time is it?" He glanced over his shoulder. And then he walked away. The door slammed shut again. You were left in the dark. Alone.

Again.

Hours passed. The high had faded, leaving you raw. Your body ached, your hands trembled. The first waves of withdrawal crept in—irritability, nausea, a gnawing anxiety that only grew with every second that passed. God, you just wanted a cigarette.

Something. Anything. But there was nothing.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook you once more, and you drifted into an uneasy sleep. When you woke again, sunlight barely crept through a small basement window in the corner. Your mind reeled.

They’ll notice I’m not in class. Someone will report me missing. They’ll find my friend—he’ll tell them what happened. They’ll come for me. They have to.

You held onto that hope, clinging to it like a lifeline. Then, the basement door opened again. Bakugo descended the stairs, carrying a plate of food and a glass of water. He crouched in front of you, set the plate down, then picked up a spoon. He scooped up a bite and motioned it toward your mouth.

You blinked. Then, you laughed. Loud and sharp. "Get that the fuck away from me, you creep. I don’t want th—" Before you could finish your sentence, a spoonful of food was shoved into your mouth.

You gagged, immediately spitting it onto the cold basement floor in defiance. Bakugo’s jaw ticked. Without a word, he scooped up another bite and forced it into your mouth, this time clamping a hand over your lips and pinching your nose shut.

"Swallow, and you get to breathe."

You held out for as long as you could, glaring at him through watery eyes. But the dizziness crept in, black dots dancing in your vision. He wasn’t bluffing. You swallowed. Air rushed into your lungs as he finally let go. "Good."

He kept going, shoving spoonful after spoonful past your lips until the bowl was empty. Your stomach twisted painfully, not used to eating this much after months of skipping meals, but he didn’t care.

Finally, he held the glass of water toward you.

You hesitated. "Drink." This time, you did. Your throat ached from screaming, raw and burning, and the cool water was a welcome relief.

Bakugo watched you the entire time, crimson eyes never wavering. For a while, he just sat there, studying you like you were some puzzle he was trying to solve. You swallowed thickly.

"You know someone's going to realize I'm missing," you finally said, voice hoarse. "They’ll come looking for me. And when they do, say goodbye to your career."

For a moment, he didn’t react. Then, he smiled. A slow, knowing smile. "Yeah? Guess we’ll have to see, huh?" Your stomach dropped. He was too confident. Too calm. You looked away, your earlier bravado suddenly cracking.

"What?" His voice was smug. "Where’d that smart attitude go now?"

You clenched your fists, biting your lip to keep from trembling. The cold of the basement seeped into your bones, the only sound was the distant hum of life continuing without you. You weren’t sure what scared you more—the situation you were in, or the sinking realization that maybe… just maybe… no one was coming to save you.

[marauder-misprint]

hii! could you please write a remus x reader angst, (the ending being good or bad is up to you :D) where the reader has a werewolf phobia due to past experiences? and after a lesson which involved the werewolf topic, reader says some hurtful words, obviously not on purpouse, but remus gets distanced / upset and later reader finds out why??

Did I just have a bad day or is the angst so good that I brought myself to tears writing it? You tell me.

Thank you for the request ❤︎

Werewolf prejudice

Remus Lupin x reader

3k words

cw: angst, Dead Sibling, angst, no happy ending

One of the things you had in common with your friend group was how you didn’t talk about your past or your homelife all that often. James was the most open about his, being that he came from a loving and safe home, a home that he said was open to all of them. Peter, Marlene and Mary all had similar stories, a decent enough family that they didn’t despise going back to over breaks. The rest avoided the topic. From what you knew, Remus moved around a lot as a child so nowhere really felt like home except for Hogwarts, Sirius loathed his family to the point of running away and taking the Potters up on their offer to be his new family, and Lily loved her family but her sister had gained a distaste for her. 

Your parents were intense. So intense to the point where Hogwarts was the only place where you felt free and able to relax. You knew your parents meant well, but it was a lot. They put all of their expectations on you, and you could only try your best to graze them. After all, you were trying to live up to the aspirations they had for your older brother. Your older brother who was buried six feet deep. 

In all honesty, you didn’t remember the night all that well. A therapist said your body was repressing the horrid memories as a coping mechanism. They had said it was probably for the better. But because the memory was fragmented in your mind, no one would risk casting Obliviate on you. What you did know is that a werewolf had killed your brother when he was eight years old, you witnessed it and were scratched but managed to survive. And so, you hated any and all conversations about siblings, your childhood, your scars and werewolves. 

“You with us?” Marlene asked as she threw a piece of candy at you from where she sat on the couch in front of the fireplace in the common room. 

You blinked, looking around the room. You were sitting on the floor among your friends. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “I’m with you.”

“So… how was your Christmas?” Mary asked, holding up her hands to catch a candy that Marlene was sending her way.

“It was fine. Nothing too special,” you said uninterested. 

It was fine. It wasn’t special. It was a lot of your parents nagging you about grades and applications to internships that you had no desire to partake in. The actual holiday was lackluster. There was the usual family meal and exchanging of gifts. You received a quill, shoes and some chocolate. It wasn’t anything to brag about, not when James had come back with a new broom and Sirius had several new vinyls that he was going to play on repeat until they all knew the words. 

“Ugh, boring,” Marlene groaned. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything fun over break?”

“We went to a-” James started to say before Lily cut him off. 

“A professional quidditch match and got to meet some of the players, we know.”

“No need to be jealous, Evans. You could’ve come with, you know,” James said, smirking at her. 

“I’m good,” she said firmly.

“Was fun though,” Remus said, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Shame the rest of you couldn’t come.” 

When Remus looked your way, you gave him a sad smile. You had received the invite, but your parents wouldn’t allow you to go, especially not when it was four boys going and no other girls. You argued that James’ parents would be there and if they let you go, maybe the other girls’ parents would let them go. No luck. So the boys got to meet famous players and you got to hear about it. 

“Rem, rest of your break good?” Mary asked.

He nodded with a hum. It was typical of him to not go into detail. 

“My sister came back from France! Was good to see her,” Peter said. 

You leaned back against the armchair Mary was sitting in, letting your eyes close. You listened to Peter recall the adventures his older sister had working for Beauxbaton. He noted that her French was getting so much better, although he said he couldn’t really be a judge of that being he didn’t speak it himself. 

“I can be the judge of that. Next time you write her, tell her I say bonjour,” Sirius said slyly. 

“You will not be flirting with my sister through my letters!” Peter gasped, causing the group to laugh. 

The peace that being with your friends brought you took over your senses. It was refreshing. Soon enough, one by one, your friends turned in for bed. You took Marlene’s spot on the couch after she left, putting you next to Remus. He moved his arm, which had been resting on the back on the couch, to be around your shoulder. As if it were second nature, you leaned into his side with a deep breath. 

Yes, it really had been a shame that you weren’t able to go to the quidditch match.

“So your break was fine?” he asked in a low voice when it was just the two of you left of your group. 

You sighed loudly as you gazed into the dying fire. 

“Grilled about grades, denied seeing my friends and best present were shoes,” you said dryly. “Yours?”

“Quidditch was definitely the highlight of it,” he said, sounding just as disappointed in his break as you did. 

“Wish I could’ve gone,” you grumbled, making Remus give your shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“Me too,” he whispered.

Then you fell into a comfortable silence. You listened to the crackling of the embers and Remus’ steady breathing. You don’t know when your friendship with him started to feel like there might be a chance for something more. It was moments like this that heightened that feeling - his arm around you fueling the warmth inside your chest. The two of you had exchanged gifts before leaving on break and broke down into uncontrollable fits of laughter when you realized you bought each other the same book, saying ‘I heard it was good.’ (It was good. You wrote each other about every chapter.)

Remus nudged you awake. The fire was reduced to barely glowing coals and the entire common room had emptied out. 

“I think it’s time for bed, love,” he said.

You groaned but nodded, helping him up off the couch once you had stood up yourself. You bid each other goodnight before heading to your respective dorms. 

---

The professors wasted no time in getting back into the swing of things. You felt like you didn’t get to hang out with your friends as much as you wanted to with the piles of homework the professors assigned. You saw the most of Lily and Remus as they would join you in the library for hours on end. At least Professor Grimiski, your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, took the first week to review some of the spells you learned in the fall term. 

“Now that we’ve finished the fall review, we will be moving into a deep dive about werewolves,” he told the class. 

You shifted uncomfortably next to Lily, unable to Remus slouch in his chair as he braced for the worst. Werewolves had been discussed in your previous years and you had managed to suffer through those lessons. You had a few nightmares after those lessons, but you were able to push through it. 

“Let’s see what you remember. Can anyone tell me some defining characteristics?” 

“Murderous, bloodthirsty, horrid,” you listed off under your breath.

“What was that? Please speak up,” Professor Grimiski instructed. 

“Sorry, professor. I was just saying that they are murderous, bloodthirsty, horrid creatures,” you said loudly. 

Your comment received mixed reactions from the classroom. Several students agreed with you. James, Sirius and Peter voiced loud objections as Remus shrunk further into his chair. Of all the people in the classroom who might have said something like that, he wasn’t expecting it to be you. 

“I see. Um, those aren’t the characteristics I was looking for…” the professor said, speaking slowly and scanning the room. “Snape, do you know-”

“They have a shorter snout, more human-like eyes and a tufted tail,” Sirius interrupted aggressively, sounding annoyed. 

“Ah, Mr. Black! There we go! Ten points to Gryffindor.” 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair. Your expression was cold and unmoving for the rest of the lesson. You were only able to semi-pay attention. What you could remember of that night was on repeat in your mind. The night you lost your brother. The night your leg got the deep scars. The night you became an only child with the burden of living up to what he could never do. 

The moment Professor Grimiski dismissed the class, you stalked out of the room and disappeared into a bathroom. You needed to be alone for a little bit before you could tolerate another lesson. As you paced around the bathroom, you felt your breathing speed up. Fuck. You needed to be calming down, not getting more worked up. You splashed water onto your face and tried to take deep breaths. 

When you were composed again, you went to Transfiguration. You stood awkwardly off to the side of the room when you saw Remus sitting with James, deep in a whispered conversation. Usually you sat with Remus during Transfiguration. After a moment, you took an open seat next to Emmeline Vance. She gave you a kind smile. 

It was like that for the rest of the day. Remus sat next to James, Sirius or Peter in every class, even the ones he usually sat next to you. That left you sitting with new people and throwing off your groove. None of the boys would make eye contact with you. Even at lunch, they turned away from you. You were suddenly iced out without any inclination as to why. 

“Remus, Lil and I are headed to the library. You coming?” you asked in the common room after dinner. 

“No,” he said.

You swore that the armchair he was in was about to swallow him whole with how he was sitting in it. You doubted it was comfortable. The walk to the library with Lily was quiet. Both of you felt like something was up with Remus but neither was going to say anything. It was like each knew the other didn’t have the answer. 

After a few days of similar behavior from the Marauders, they returned to their usual seating habits. You were able to sit with Remus again, but it wasn’t the same as it was. He was far more quiet, more distant than before. He didn’t chuckle at any of your quiet jokes. He didn’t respond to any notes you slid his way. James, Sirius and Peter still seemed minorly upset with you, but at least they weren’t giving you the silent treatment anymore. 

Still, the silence from Remus was driving you crazy. How could you have gone from maybe almost something to not even friends? His behavior affected you more than the lessons on werewolves. Each lesson left you feeling tense and the more in depth Professor Grimiski got, the harder it was to breathe in the classroom. Remus, on the other hand, left you feeling empty and scared. You walked on eggshells around him, not wanting to upset him any more than you already had. 

In essence, it was a very rough start to the semester. 

Lily, Marlene and Mary all urged you to talk to Remus. You all knew him to be fairly level headed, at least out of the Marauders. He was reasonable. If you just asked, they were sure he would tell you what was wrong. 

You just had to wait for the right time. It had to be when he was alone and lately, it felt like he always had one of the boys glued to his side when classes weren’t in session. You figured your best bet was Saturday. James had quidditch practice and Sirius managed to get detention already. The girls said that they would rope Peter into a Wizards’ Chess tournament if they had to, which they did. Remus and Peter had walked into the common room together. Remus headed up to their dorm when the girls summoned Peter over with a prize for the first place that they knew he couldn’t turn down. 

It was your chance. You slipped up the boys’ stairs and knocked on the door to Remus’ dorm. 

“Wormtail, you don’t have to knock for your dorm, Merlin,” his voice called out. 

You opened the door tentatively. Remus froze where he stood. He was in the middle of putting on a sweater. You stared at each other, neither moving nor speaking.

You cleared your throat after a few beats. “Can I come in?” 

“It’s just me in here,” he said coldly.

“I… I know,” you said, entering and closing the door behind you. As you stepped further into the room, you fidgeted with your fingers. “I was hoping we could talk.”

He finished pulling on his sweater and crossed his arms defensively over his chest. He was on guard. 

“About?” 

“What did I do?” you asked, your voice cracking and tears immediately threatening to fall. “What did I do to upset you?” 

He took a sharp breath. He hadn’t expected you to sound so broken. He swallowed thickly in an attempt to keep himself steady. In that moment, he hated the effects you had on him. 

“I-” he started to say before needing to take another breath. “I didn’t expect you to be so prejudiced.” 

Confusion immediately appeared on your face.

“What do you mean? Prejudiced?”

“Yes. Erm, about werewolves.” He pressed his lips together as he watched you chew on the inside of your lips. 

“You shut me out because of what I said about werewolves?” you asked incredulously. 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“Yes.” 

“Wh-why?”

“Not all werewolves are… that,” he said, his voice dripping with disgust as he finished his statement. 

“But they are,” you said, your voice warbling. “They are horrible, horrible beasts. They are capable of ruining lives.”

“I know what they’re capable of,” Remus said.��

“Do you? Because if you did, I don’t think you’d be so sympathetic towards them.” You took your own deep breath, exhaling loudly. “Did you know that I’m not an only child? I had a brother. Until one killed him.” Your voice hitched and you felt the tears begin to stream down your face. “It almost killed me.” 

You lifted your skirt enough to show the deep scars on your leg. 

“Oh,” Remus breathed, taking a step back despite raising his arm to reach out to you. “Oh.” 

You nodded. “Oh is right.” 

“Oh gods… you’re going to hate me,” he said in a quiet voice to himself. He chuckled but it sounded eerily similar to a sob. “You’re going to hate me.” 

“Why am I going to hate you?” you asked in a voice just as quiet. 

He ran a hand through his hair, turning to sit on his bed. 

“I think you should sit down.” 

You gave him a quizzical look, but listened, sitting down on Sirius’ bed across from him. 

“I’m… I’m a werewolf.”

You stared at him. You were certain you didn’t hear him right. There was no way that your favorite person, the scarred boy sitting across from you whose arms made you feel like everything was okay in the world, was the same kind of creature as the one who doomed you to a life of never being enough for your parents.

“What?” you gasped after what felt like an entire minute.

“I’m a werewolf,” he repeated. “Please, please don’t hate me.” 

“But… you can’t be,” you said, shaking your head. “No. You’re… you’re you! You can’t be a monster… You’re…”

“I’m a werewolf.” 

“Remus,” you whispered. “Oh, Remus…” 

“Please, even if you hate me now, please don’t tell anyone. Some of the teachers know. And Sirius, Peter, James. But that’s it. I can't… I can’t have this getting out.” 

Your features softened as you took in the worry on Remus’ face. 

“How long… how long have you been a… a…” You can’t bring yourself to call Remus a werewolf. It doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real.

“Since I was young. That’s, uh, that’s why I don’t talk about my childhood. It’s why we moved ‘round so much. I’m a risk. To everyone.” 

You nodded, not knowing what to say. You just looked at Remus and let your thoughts try to come to terms with it. 

“I… I don’t think I can hate you,” you said after a while. “Oh, Remus…” You paused. “What do you do… every… erm, full moon? How dangerous are you?” 

“I leave the grounds. I’m contained. Dumbledore made it so I could come to Hogwarts and not actively endanger anyone,” he explained. 

You nodded. You were full of conflicted feelings. You know you can’t hate Remus, but you don’t know how you can be around him when he’s a werewolf, not with your family. 

“I… I don’t hate you. And… I won’t say anything,” you said slowly. “But I need time. I… I don’t know if I can be friends with you.”

You stood up, wiping away the tears that stained your face. You left Remus sitting on his bed alone in his dorm. As much as it killed you to walk away, you knew you had to. At least for now. You had to figure out if you could separate the werewolf who ruined your family from the werewolf you sat next to in class. You didn’t know if you had the ability to accept the possibility of a good werewolf, although you did know that if there ever was a good werewolf, it would be in the form of Remus. 

[yuurei20]

Hello! I was wondering if there was any specific date on when club sign-ups began. At first I thought it was after the Spelldrive tournament, since Chapter 3 was the first time in the main story that clubs were brought up, not to mention Deuce and Ace not knowing Jack and Floyd during Chapter 2 despite being clubmates. However, I just read Riddle's Ceremonial Robe SR, where Silver mentions club sign-ups being almost right after orientation, with Sebek signing up for the Equestrian Club in that vignette, so I'm a bit confused.

Hello hello! Thank you for this question!

I am not sure that Ace and Deuce not knowing Jack and Floyd was established in Book 2 👀

Neither Ace nor Deuce are a part of the group that goes to investigate the twins, and while Deuce does speak a little vaguely when they go to Savanaclaw there is not really any dialogue that confirms that he had never met Jack before!

(note: this is all covered in the novels, where Ace complains to the prefect about Floyd and greets Jamil as his clubmate in Book 2, while Deuce says outright that he and Jack are in the same club. The novels and the game tend to diverge in canon so a thing being true to the novels does not mean it is true to the game, but it is possible that the game had to cut down on extraneous details like who knows who from where, how, why, and when, in favor of focusing on the plot.)

We have seen similar vagueness before between Ace and Epel, who meet for the first time during Ace's ceremonial robes vignette.

Ace never says anything about not knowing who Epel is in Books 1 or 5 but he also does not say that they have already met, possibly because the game does not want to exclude people who are reading only the main story by referencing scenes from vignettes!

(It is hinted at, however, when Grim mistakes Epel for a girl and Ace corrects him, having asked Epel that same thing in his vignette.)

As with many time-related things in the game, the deadline for clubs is a little vague!

As you say Silver has a comment of "No sooner does orientation end than we must solicit our clubs," while Riddle says that "it is most prudent to decide on them as soon as possible, and Ruggie also comments that first-years visit clubs and pick one to join as soon as orientation is over.

The students seem to have multiple days to visit clubs and decide where they want to go, and in a vignette Ace still has not chosen his club despite how the deadline is the following day.

In Ruggie's vignette where he shows new students around the sports clubs Ace is already a member of the basketball club, so it is possible that Ruggie's sports-club tour was the final day for first-year students to choose their clubs and Ace had joined either that same day or the day before. (Ace himself says, "I've only been a member of this club for like five minutes!")

Also in Ruggie's tour vignette we have Jack and Epel, who already know each other! But Jack and Epel share a homeroom class (1-B).

If we wanted to make a timeline of club enrollment maybe it would look something similar to this?

Day 1 - Orientation (night of the first day) Day 2 Morning - First day of class (Jack and Epel meet for the first time) Day 2 Afternoon - Riddle and Silver in their ceremonial robes, waiting for new members Time passes - Ace has not submitted his application yet, the deadine is the next day Final Day Afternoon - Ace is a member of the basketball club, visited by Ruggie during his sports club tour for undecided first-year students.

Book 2 and the spelldrive tournament take place in October, which seems like it would be quite a lot of club-time missed out on by new students, but as we have been given no exact timeline we cannot be sure!

A club deadline is also mentioned in the novel, and much like the game there is no specific date, but it is prior to the tournament 🦁

"Yuuya and Grim were told by the headmage that they would both have to choose the same club. As they were only able to enroll at all on the condition that they form two halves of a single student, it seemed like a reasonable request to Yuuya, particularly as he has also been charged with corralling Grim, as his prefect. Yuuya had no objection.

Their issue had been not being able to decide on what club to join until right up until the deadline."

- Twisted Wonderland the Second Novel

[pawborough]

Beta Expectations and Our Development Goals

Hi everyone! This document serves as an outline for starting expectations when beginning Closed Beta. 

Things to remember as we move into Closed Beta are: 

Cursing is allowed! We’ve dialed back our filters quite a bit, but absolutely no innuendo or sexual content. Details are outlined in our TOS.

In this beginning, the application feels closer to the Alpha state than it does the full game. It is in a mid-development limbo, which is why we are stressing that it is the Closed Beta state. Our biggest milestones have been backend technical foundations that have taken significant time. If the game were a cake, we have finished baking the base, which is what we’re starting the testing for. We’ll be making aggressive updates throughout the next few months of the test, which will introduce the “frosting,” and advance general playability. We plan to roll out new mechanics every month. You will find a list below of what these goals are.

Temper your starting expectations, but get excited for how much we’re going to continuously develop and update!

We will not be moving into Open Beta until we feel the game is close to done. Think of Closed Beta as phase 1, and Open Beta as phase 2.

Things will break the moment you try them. This is normal and expected. Always report!

Because of this, things won’t be very fun yet. But as we roll out improvements and new things, users will get to give live feedback on what they want to see and how things feel.

Early Access will be less smooth than full Closed Beta as we detect the kinks of letting more people in en masse. It’s the nature of early launching. Brace yourselves!

In the same vein, several aspects are temporary. Topher takes the place of icons in the queue, and compromises we’ve made for early economic simulation (example: a placeholder merchant to simulate the Processing mechanic) will be barren. NPCs are sketches, UI colors may be temporary, and UI banners are sketches.

Any and all prices of items or features are temporary or subject to change. Things like the price of kit rolling or accessory items will be tooled.

All updates and communications with testers will be posted publicly instead of through email. Eventually, we’ll use the site forums, but not until we can guarantee no more content wipes, and we’ve developed the sticky system on the User Dashboard.

Everything in this test, minus your username, password, account ID, and purchases is temporary. Your account content will be erased at some point in time, and when it is your Kickstarter and Alpha reward codes will be re-activated for use.

If anything is broken about your code, please report! We’ll fix it!

Any premium purchases you make will be restored upon wipes, and exist in this state as a means to support us moreso than to stimulate longterm collecting. By purchasing any currency, you’re helping us develop! But please do not feel pressured!

Bundles will be added come the full Closed Beta.

Pelt submissions are open for user testing, but you’ll have to re-submit upon any wipes.

When you complete registration (entering your DOB and confirming agreement to the TOS), your founder and follower IDs will be reserved, so you can take your time going over the details.

These starting cats will be wiped completely, and when Open Beta begins, follower and founder IDs will be totally up for grabs again upon first-come first-serve login and confirmation.

We’ll be around to grind for the next two weeks. Then, in two weeks, there will be a bit of a lull as our developers take a breather and regroup, and we’ll be back in March. We’re making this plan known so it doesn’t look like an abandonment or nervous silence. We’re simply planning rest and pacing ahead of time!

We’ll be sending out periodic surveys to get honest criticism and check how the economy is feeling.

The first survey is ready and waiting for your input! This survey focuses specifically on the economy, and can be filled out once per day. Please do not feel pressured to do so every day, but we encourage you to respond as many times as possible. Your input is immeasurably valuable for the fine-tuning of our economy, and guaranteeing the long-term enjoyability of the site. Please find the survey here.

With over 700 items on this site, we may have missed necessary data entry for some as we learn the ins and outs of our own program. Always report and we’ll fix it!

Some accessories are in the re-coloring queue, and if so will have their recolors seeded into the economy as we finish them.

It’s a marathon, not a sprint. We’re ready to hit the ground running, but it will be a long journey. We’re excited to embark on it together!

Here is a list of things available from the get-go (hopefully useable, if not they will be!):

Cooking and Crafting

Daily Duties

Flea Market and Merchants 

Breeding

Dress up and general cat customization

Beta retirement (bare bones)

Cat relationships and cross-cat gift giving

Archetype discovery (we are adding new ones as you play!)

Forum posting and custom board creation (image hosting!)

Cat profile CSS boxes

User profile CSS boxes

Storage and stash functionality for item organization

Bank functionality for currency storage

User customization settings (icon selection, pronoun and slogan editing, Borough swapping, username swapping)

Crest application

Beta guild play (basic errands)

Multiplayer guilds

Incense and metamorphic functionality

Pelt submissions (the refined pelt rules are a work in progress, because for this chaotic testing phase we’d like everyone to go nuts and have some fun! The only steadfast rules are no gore, copyrighted materials, religious iconography, or sexual content!)

Friend requests and adding friends

Premium shop (intended for user support, benefits are bare for at least the next week or so while we focus on user bug reports)

Now without further ado… here is what we’ll be working on in the coming months, in order of general priority! Open Beta will not happen until we finish this list.

Replacing frontend assets with final renders.

Updating item cards to reflect dynamic button displays depending on the page in which the card is being viewed.

User report system for all user-ran content.

Wardrobe functionality; full sandbox dress up available to any visitor.

Infrastructure for sharing sandbox creations in comments and forum posts; text language like :catID: to paste an image link of a cat.

User to user DM functionality.

User to user private trading.

Item database and lore encyclopedia.

Processing functionality + dye system. For now, recolors are seeded in a temporary merchant.

Visual faunapedia record for fauna studying (including unlockable lore.)

Adding a slew of archetypes. Dedicated archetype collection page with user featured display.

Sitewide search functionality of all user content.

Aesthetic updates to comments + addition of comments onto cat pages.

Splitting the Undercoat into two patterns: Dilute (dynamically lightened) and Standard.

Adding a white patch selector into the creator and founder designer.

Dashboard refinement + forum news widget and stickies.

Splitting cooking and crafting to bring back Winnipeg and keep the mechanics more organized.

Farming.

Much of it has been started already, and we’ll continue to share our progress. We plan to stay in Closed Beta likely over the summer, but it will be as long as these developments take.

And then we will move into Open Beta! Where we can focus on the following:

User notebook entries (blog posts.)

Forum board updates to better accommodate posting

Sitewide tagging and filtering.

Cross-account breeding.

Dedicated Guild refinement and updates.

Achievement system.

Referral system.

Team features like a team hoard, team notes, and shared scenes.

Refinement of any feature feedback we get :) 

And from there… it’s full launch, baby! 

Again, a marathon, not a sprint. This list may seem long and arduous, but we’ll continue visual content updates (patterns, breeds, etc.) throughout the length of development.

Let’s get crackin’, catfolk!

[thesweetestsupervillains]

"Ah, this all sounds like a very Gina way of putting things. I can see her fingerprints all over this explanation." He seemed amused by that. "First, a contradiction you've made yourself, though. You seem very focused on being correct, but then you say that the core idea is that hypothesis can be wrong. If that's true, shouldn't being wrong be part of the process? Rather than focus on having the correct answers, you should think of it as a process where you come up with ideas and then test them."

"I imagine Gina confuses you because she does this without actually telling you about anything. She makes assertions all the time, acting like she's right from the get-go. Always has, really."

"Let's back up a second. Ask yourself, how did the scientific method come to be? It was only through trial and error that we put together the structures that became the basis of our reasoning."

"And to that end, the application of such methods, and hers, looks more like this: we first begin with an assertion; perhaps that there were some kind of cryptozoological beasts in ancient times due to us finding dinosaur bones. Then we begin doing research, and many of our ideas are proven wrong. But that's not entirely bad; indeed, it creates frameworks for the future."

"Indeed, why should dinosaur bones be conjured from the ether? After all, mankind has always believed in monsters. And there are monsters out there. So it was simply a matter of learning what these things were. Putting the fantastical into the category of the understandable."

"Yes, everything is true, nothing is impossible, is our ethos. But instead of thinking that things simply came into existence, see them as having always been there. Gina believes that humans can bring things spontaneously into existence, and perhaps that's true. But that's a fringe position."

"Take germs for example. The standard Son of Ether position is that they always existed, but we didn't know they existed, and humans not knowing that they existed allowed for magic and the like to come up with alternate systems of understanding. Our revelation of the existence of germs allowed for us to forward our concepts of medicine and science. After all, if everything is true, then it is absolutely true that they existed even before we saw them."

"If we take the concept of everything is true at face value, then yes, germs did exist before people saw them. But does that mean that they existed in the ether? Most Sons of Ether would say no. They would say that they existed with the rest of us. Gina would say yes. But that's because her views on the nature of the universe and reality are fringe even among our number."

"..I can imagine that to be rather frustrating." She sometimes feels like she can barely keep up with things as it is - she can't imagine what it must be like for someone who's 300 years old.

"I will..try to keep that in mind." And not consider herself to be the problem in not being able to understand what she's saying - easier said than done.

Gina could probably tell you what my problems are- She won't relay that sentiment though: she doesn't have to go into their frustrated relationship any further.

"Well..I think I understand the concept? Broadly? That our understanding of the world is limited, so there is so much stuff out there to bring in - sorry, that we should expand our world out into the unknown-" her need to self-correct might already portray a separate struggle: needing to get the whole thing right.

"..But I cannot get myself to believe that basically everything didn't exist- well, they did exist, but not really - until humans conjured them from the ether.

That dinosaur bones are only in the dirt because we believe they'll be there, or that miasma theory was true until someone decided that germs are a thing, and suddenly there they were- that cold didn't kill people until they assumed that it would!

It feels like dream logic! And she says it is similar to the observation paradox, but we only see that in subatomic particles, and they didn't behave the way we believed them to when observed, they just changed behaviours!

Not to mention that the whole scientific method is based on the fact that hypothesis can be wrong! So if everyone that stands in a room believes that an experiment will go one way, but then it goes another, does that not disprove the whole concept entirely?"

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

...The love potion is Hell Viagra. Guys tHE LOVE POTION IS HELL VIAGRA-

Like okay maybe its not *exactly* that. I don't think Viagra like, actively turns ppl on or whatever, BUT I think it's primary intended purpose IS something similar. It's get horny juice. Cuz like, think about it for a second. Why sell something that's JUST advertised as a date r*pe drug? Why would you do that? Like, I get that it's hell, and bad people gonna do bad things, but the audience for that kind of thing is probably relatively limited. Plus, there are definitely people down there that would be VERY put off by a company that sells something being actively advertised as for date r*pe. Like, a lot of the sinners we see seem to be. Normal people. Which is also why Val shooting up the hotel would be considered bad for the Vees image- A lot of the truly nasty shit the Vees do has got to be kept at least kind of under wraps because a decent portion of Hell's population probably still wouldn't be okay with actively supporting that shit, no matter how much they're being encouraged to indulge in their worst impulses. It's like how, in jail, a lot of the time ppl will gang up on the worst criminals and beat the shit out of them or smthn. Like even the drone ad that explicitly stated one of the features was spying on your neighbors felt more like it was implying just spying rather then like, peeping on them naked. People are more likely to openly say they've been sticking their nose into their neighbors business then they are to say they've been peeping. Still not good, but like. Vaguely more socially acceptable and appealing to a wider market.

There's also the fact that, from the advertisements we've seen, it doesn't really look like that's what it's being advertised for? One of them is Velvette doing a magical girl pose and the other is Val(who is the porn guy. Aka the romanticized sex genre) and Vel just like, laying there together all sexy like. It's vague, but none of it, besides the name if you're genre savy(which I'd like to point out that not everybody is involved in media criticism enough to realize the issues w/ the love potion trope, which wasn't even taboo until a couple years ago tbh), really screams "use this to make people have sex with you against their will!" That, along with the fact that the love potion definitely CAN'T act how love potions normally do in fiction(making the person who ingested it fall deeply, head-over-heals in love with specifically the person that gave it to them), because that would be too difficult to mass produce, and the other usual approach(fall in love with the first person you see) is just too impractical unless someone is truly desperate, I think the use that gets ADVERTISED is "use this to make your sex better and more fun, just like in those pornos we also sell!(buy our shit)" rather than date r*pe.

That doesn't mean I think the Vees like. Actively discourage other uses though. A sale's a sale and one of them is fucking Valentino there's no way they care that much. Any negative reviews along the lines of "somebody used this to fucking drug me" probably get deleted and nothing is ever done about it because, in the end, as long as the suffering is invisible nobody's gonna care. This take doesn't really make the Vees any less shitty, it just makes them more ~realistically~ shitty.

It also makes the love potion a little bit funnier. Like just a lil bit. Bcuz it means you can make Hell Viagra jokes :)

[bixels]

In the past, people in the Animal Crossing community would make fun of Tom Nook as a sleazy landlord. Since then, he's really rehabilitated his image as this 'heart of gold' businessman (he's the one who puts bells and furniture in trees for you to find! he adopted orphans! he donates to charity!), but New Horizons genuinely paints the most devious version of him.

He's successfully privatized settler colonialism: you pay HIM to move to a "deserted island" (which apparently the oceans in the AC world are just full of) and start a colony that he is directly invested in. At best he's running a weird vacation package scam (you arrive on the island with no money and in debt for "using his services"). At worst, he's using you to set up company towns. For god's sake, he literally has his own fake currency that he forces you to use to pay off your debt. But don't worry, he's repackaged it in a way that definitely doesn't sound like an MLM scam: the Nook Mileage Program!

You're no longer just his tenant or his temporary part-timer, you're his business lackey. The entire tutorial section of the game has you spending actual weeks running around completing tasks and doing hard labor to set up his colony. You're even tasked with preparing his properties and finding buyers for them. No, you aren't a tenant anymore. You work for the landlord. You are directly responsible for finding tenants for him. And he doesn't even fucking pay you. Not for setting up town hall and museum, or his nephew's shop –– which is the ONLY store on the entire island that sells necessities –– or bringing KK Slider to town, or helping populate his town. Not a single cent. No, actually, you have to pay HIM to BUY infrastructure like bridges and stairs and park benches. And all the while, he's telling you're the "resident representative"; you get to call the shots! That the reward is the community's progress. That what you're doing is in everyone's best interest (but most importantly, his).

Since NH's release, people have done a lot of legwork to say that Tom Nook isn't a capitalist while the game shows him at his very worst. He owns the only general store in town. You're forced to use a phone that he modified and branded as his own. Buy Nook-branded furniture and merchandise at the self-serve kiosk in the town hall, a governmental building! There's no conflict of interest here!

But hey, if you're tired of being the landlord/business mogul's goon, you can also find work as a deluxe resort home designer for a company that also pays you in their special company currency that can only be used to buy their products instead of a real salary! Because that's what the Animal Crossing franchise needs! More vacation homes!!!

[taradactyls]

Something I love about how Pride and Prejudice is told through an omnipresent narrator, aside from the witty remarks and insight into other characters it allows even though it's usually focused on Elizabeth, is how it plays on the audience's own prejudices and assumptions.

The narrator tells us very early on, chapter 4, that Darcy is "haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting." We've already seen that when we meet him the previous chapter, and will see more of it in those following. But it's the readers, along with Elizabeth, who take that observation as not only a list of flaws (despite only the first actually being negative) but presumes even more damaging flaws must be attached to it. Darcy can be off-putting, especially so in the setting we meet him in: he dismissed Elizabeth within earshot of her, didn't engage with people attempting to converse with him, etc. It's easy to assume the worst of him in a world so driven by social niceties, and because we follow Elizabeth, who is so lively and playful amidst the rules which govern society. Elizabeth thinks he's bad tempered? It would make sense - he hasn't shown consideration for others much socially, why would he care when he's angry? He acted from resentment and jealousy and went against his father's will? That's not such a jump after the conclusion of a bad temper, his own acknowledgement of implacable resentment, and evidence of pride. The awareness of one offensive trait so naturally leads to prejudice against it, that we easily assume still worse qualities must exist. We are as mistaken as Elizabeth.

Even the idea that 'No, Darcy was never haughty or rude, he was just shy and misunderstood, the narrator is wrong' is just magnifying that prejudice. Yes, we do find out later that Darcy is not at ease among strangers, and was always intrinsically good; his morals and core values meant he was never as bad as Elizabeth believed. But that doesn't mean he was without flaws, and it's so fascinating that some analysis of his character seek to completely remove the negative traits which he eventually overcame after acknowledging them in himself. The logic seems to be that they feel if he had them in the start that he isn't actually such a good person. It's just another example of being so prejudiced against certain flaws that it's impossible for some people to reconcile that there doesn't have to be more serious failings attached, and someone can still be a good person despite being arrogant and not always nice. It's, ironically, being prejudiced in the exact same way that Elizabeth was at the start of the novel. It's amazing that Jane Austen was able to tap into that aspect of human nature so deftly, and invoke in both in her main character, and readers to this day.

Now, of course, the story is so well known it's rare for anyone to read it blind, so it's less likely anyone will be unaware of Darcy's good qualities despite first seeing his worst. Even if they do, Pride and Prejudice has become so genre defining that new readers who are the slightest bit genre savvy will be more aware than contemporary audiences were. But even if we know the story it's still so understandable why Elizabeth feels the way she does. We see what she sees and feel her conclusions make sense. Just as, even though the narrator tells us Darcy is starting to catch feelings for Elizabeth, we fully comprehend her not noticing and believing there's a mutual dislike. And though that is concrete evidence of Elizabeth not reading Darcy and his motives correctly, we are still so sympathetic of the basis of her prejudice that her continued belief in Darcy's lack of virtues makes sense from her point of view. We can see, as she later will, that she takes it too far, and should have noticed evidence to the contrary, but her prejudice against him based on his early behaviour and her pride at reading people correctly is so understandable.

Basically, in a story about the characters' pride and prejudices, I love, love, LOVE how the narrator's voice brings out those same traits in readers the exact same way we see it presenting in Elizabeth. We're all on that journey with her, and we can likewise learn the same lessons about ourselves as she does. Pride and Prejudice feels timeless, because even though society and thus the nuance changes, the book is about human nature, and that remains essentially the same.

[seiwas]

SEL MY SEL …….. crawling over here for the ask game …………… you already know . who i’m going to ask for phdkdjdkdb IN MY DEFENSE I WILL NEVER GET OVER YOUR VERSION OF HIM !!!!!!!

….. sugu ….. with ’sun’ ……. maybe 👉👈

(🍵 <- a little matcha for your troubles … good luck with the writing exercises my loveee <33 i’m cheering you on!!!)

ARI 🥹🥹🥹🥹 hehe ofc i shall write sugu for u! writing him is always so fun 🥹 thank you for the prompt, and for the matcha!! i will be sipping it as i write this 🥹 it is not a trouble at alllll!! esp if it's for youuuuu 🫶

contains: beautiful, gorgeous, sexy neighbor suguru, mood can be a bit unsettling... honestly a little stockholm syndrome-y (does this count as dark? idk 😭), skewed concept of reality and time

suguru + sun

you move into a new neighborhood on your 24th birthday.

it's a quaint house, fully furnished with wooden panels lining its contemporary build. you consider yourself lucky for finding a place this well-kept at the price point you offered. you're honestly surprised that suguru, your now landlord, accepted your application.

the area sits a few kilometers on the outskirts of the city, but it feels neither too quiet nor too busy; a perfect balance with an impressive view of the rising sun this early in the morning. that, and the people seem friendly, greeting you as they pass by. they even offer to help you haul things out of your car and into the house.

to the right of your house is one that holds the same design elements at yours, although a bit darker in its tones. it's sleek and modern, befitting of a bachelor.

"you must be the new tenant," a voice speaks from behind you, syrupy and smooth. you didn't even hear his footsteps.

when you turn around, you're met with a tall man who greets you with his arms held behind his back as he tilts his head low. there's a calmness that radiates off him, a sort of gentleness that signals he’s someone you can trust.

you nod, introducing yourself with your hand outstretched towards him.

"suguru," he replies as his fingers grab yours delicately. your eyes widen in surprise, recognizing the name, and he merely chuckles in return, a soft laugh that brings out kindness in his eyes.

"i should greet you properly," he lets go of your hand, placing it back behind him. "hello, new neighbor."

.

over shared breakfasts by your porch and impromptu dinners over at his, you grow a liking to suguru. he's polite and thoughtful, often knocking at your door in the mornings to offer you a cup of tea to watch the sunrise.

"you'll only find sunrises like this here," he leans back on the wooden chair you set out as outdoor furniture. his head tilts towards you slightly, impossibly close as you notice the corner of his lips curl up into a small grin.

hues of pinks, purples, and orange blend to illuminate his face perfectly. the sun is beautiful in front you, peeking between clouds as it inches away from the horizon, but something about him is infinitely more magnetic. your stare is immediately drawn to his lips, smooth and supple, before it meets his gaze.

you don't know what's worse―wanting to lean in or be pulled by the look in his eyes.

he fixes things that break in your home, always somehow knowing just when to show up. at first, it was your windows, the one by the attic, too high and dangerous for you to climb; then, it was your kitchen sink, its pipes regurgitating the water going down the drain. he's begun to bring you your groceries too, often asking for a list of what you need when he makes trips out of town.

your days blur easily when you're with suguru, and time passes almost fleetingly as you find your hours filled with soft laughs and touches so delicate you sometimes wonder whether they're real.

it should be noted, you think, how much time has passed since you first met him―an anniversary of some sort.

.

you learn that he owns both houses―his and the one you're currently renting. it once belonged to a friend who had to move for bigger, greater responsibilities elsewhere, he'd said.

"why did you decide on renting?" you ask him one night, over wine and candlelight.

your fingers fiddle with his as he sits you on his lap, this thing between you growing more intimate lately. he rubs his thumb along your thigh, resting his chin by your shoulder.

"you could have sold it or something."

he presses his lips gently on your collarbone.

"i could've," his fingers trail up to your waist, crossing your chest before landing on your chin, cupping it lightly to face him. your heart is hammering in your chest, senses on fire as his nose kisses yours. you think you can count every mole that dots his face beautiful. then, he inches closer, lips grazing yours as he whispers, "but i was waiting for you."

.

you mark each day at sunrise.

your digital clocks and calendars stopped working after some time, but you don't mind. suguru always tells you what date it is when you ask.

this morning, you wake up in his bed, and the sun is still as breathtaking as you remember it, the same pink, purple, and orange hues streaming through his window. when you look closely, the clouds―

"good morning," he brings you tea in bed, his hair topped off with a bun, a half-up-half-down.

your stomach fills itself with something warm and fuzzy as you smile at him, "morning."

"slept well?" his hand reaches for your waist under the duvet, and you giggle, ticklish.

"very," you crane your neck to land a soft kiss on his lips. "what date is it today?"

"october 28," he supplies.

your eyebrows shoot up as you realize, "i have to bring my car to the mechanic."

it's been 6 months now since your last check, right before you moved, and though you barely use your car anyway, it's best to be safe.

you quickly move to get up but suguru's hand keeps you in place, firmly pressed on your waist.

"i'll do it," he says with a smile on his face, "you rest here."

.

you barely see your other neighbors except for the girl who smokes a pack of cigarettes a day and the twins down the street.

when you ask suguru about it, he dismisses the question quickly, saying, "must have moved," as he urges you to take another sip of your tea.

you dream of them that night, on bare streets; it wakes you in a cold sweat, the image of your neighborhood reduced to just your house and suguru's.

.

this is the 200th sunrise since you started counting, which means this is the 200th day since you and suguru officially got together. kind of.

your gift for him is a painting of the sunrise, because it reminds you of him; and because it's become your favorite thing to look forward to, too.

the pinks and purples blend together beautifully as it contrasts with the orange hues, and the sun continues to peak above the horizon as it settles between clouds.

suguru kisses you when you give it to him, the taste of tea right on his tongue.

he frames it on his bedside, and when you wake in his room the next morning, it greets you along with the back of his head, fast asleep.

your eyes flit to the view outside his window, the same pinks, purples, and orange hues. you tilt your head curiously, brows furrowing. the sun stays at the same spot above the horizon, and when you look at the painting again, the clouds hold the same position and shape.

a chill washes over you, your hearbeat pounding.

.

"what date is it today?" you ask suguru as you wash the potatoes in the sink.

another bag of groceries from suguru. now that you think about it, you don't think you've ever gone to the grocery store since moving.

"is it important?" he responds, slightly snappy. you've begun to notice that he hates it when you ask lately.

you eye him from the side.

"i was thinking of preparing a menu of what we'll eat during the holidays, if it's near."

the furrow on his brows smooths out as you give your answer, and so he says, "december 5."

and you know something is wrong, because that can't be it. it doesn't make sense with the sunrises you've counted.

.

you dream again, more and more as the days go by―dirt roads and your house and suguru's, run-down and empty. more things start breaking in your apartment, and suguru always knows when they need to be fixed.

there's a deep, twisting feeling in your stomach that intensifies, festering under your skin; it worsens in the mornings, when you sit with suguru at your porch and you think you see a crack in the sunrise.

.

sunrise valley the place where the sun never sets! ─── beautiful, bright, and destined for people who live just like you! find your new home here.

[DISCONTINUED] — FOR DEMOLITION ON DECEMBER 7. under investigation for suspicious spiritual activity and missing persons.

[deeplyridiculouslyinlove]

I just rewatched 02 x 07 for the first time since finishing all the books and I can't stop thinking about it. I feel like everyone is either on the side of (1) it was all a big ploy, or (2) that's it for Moiraine and Siuan they can never come back from this--but I really don't think either of those are true.

I think the most in character thing Moiraine could possibly do is forgive Siuan, for the following reasons:

Moiraine knows that she would do the exact same thing that Siuan did here--namely, sacrifice anything (even their relationship and their trust in one another)--for the sake of the world and their mission. And this shared goal, these compatible values, and this mutual understanding is literally what has kept them together despite 20 years of distance and secrecy from the world.

[MINOR BOOK SPOILERS] We see in one of the books that Moiraine believes she and Siuan have made their beds and will lie in them one day by becoming involved in the quest to find the Dragon -- I believe the way she phrases it is about payment coming due for all the rules they've broken and the secrecy etc. that they needed for their quest. If this is her attitude, she is not only willing to give up everything, but expects to give up everything. And she expects it of Siuan as well.

Siuan has already proven how much she would give up for their quest. She became Amyrlin despite, as we learn this same episode, how much she did not want to be trapped in the tower and could not see her future there. She gave up any semblance of a happy life (how she would picture it both with and without Moiraine!) for this quest.

In some ways, if Siuan had just let Moiraine take Rand through a waygate to Falme, it would have actually been a betrayal of their mission. Their mission wasn’t “get Rand to Falme.” It was “protect and train the dragon reborn.” Siuan feels the need to do that as acutely as Moiraine does--and critically, Moiraine knows this about Siuan.

This goes quadruple if Siuan actually did think Moiraine could be a dark friend. Siuan thinks Moiraine lied to her!! And Moiraine knows this too, since Siuan does at least have the chance to say "You lied to me!" Moiraine would understand that if there was any chance Moiraine had been turned or was compelled, Siuan had to try and stop her from taking Rand off to god knows where.

Literally just a few days earlier Moiraine had threatened to have Alanna take Lan’s bond by force if he stood in her way--aka, the way of her mission. At this very moment, Moiraine herself has spent days (weeks?) contemplating what it would mean to betray the autonomy and trust of those she loves most if it means saving the world. And she knows what side she's on.

When Moiraine says, “if you have ever loved me don’t do this” my heart shatters into a million pieces. But that line is not just ,“it will be a betrayal of our love and trust if you compel me." It is that, but it's also a call for Siuan to see Moiraine for MOIRAINE. She’s saying “you know me.” She’s trying to get her (Siuan) to see that what she (Moiraine) is doing is not about her shame and pride but about the mission. Because it is ALWAYS about the mission, Moiraine IS the mission, and Siuan loves her because of that, and Moiraine knows Siuan loves her because of that 

Moiraine clearly hesitates before going through the waygate. Her character isn't one to linger out of shock and betrayal. She lashes out and she puts up distance--we've seen this all season. Moiraine moves forward. So I read her looking at Siuan here as far more "I love you and I'm sorry [I can't help you? it's come to this? we can't reconcile?]" than "How could you?" or "You're a different person to me now." I’m not trying to minimize the violation Moiraine is also feeling in this moment, I just think that if the violation was her primary emotion she would likely behave differently. And if she can have this messy a set of emotions even in the heart of the moment, I have faith she can similarly hold multiple emotions later when reconciling.

The flashback scenes are so heartbreaking but they don’t have to mean that Moiraine and Siuan feel so betrayed and far from those versions of themselves that they will never be together again. Those flashbacks can also be saying “remember when we were those people?” Holding onto those versions of themselves is how they hold onto their love despite this scene.

Those flashbacks also remind us that their relationship in the show is like 50 years old. It is deep. People don't throw away 50 years of relationship without a conversation, even if there is a deep betrayal involved. And that's normal people--not even people who have given up absolutely everything for a cause that the relationship has now gotten wrapped up in. In the books, they are together for a few years and then seemingly go their separate ways when the Dragon is reborn. I don't think the show would have gone out of its way to deepen and lengthen this relationship just to end it so quickly and unceremoniously.

[desi-yearning]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: มิตรภาพคราบศัตรู | High School Frenemy (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Saint Thamnithit/Shin Naruebet (High School Frenemy) Characters: Saint Thamnithit (High School Frenemy), Shin Naruebet (High School Frenemy) Additional Tags: fluffuary2025, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Love Confessions, Late Night Conversations, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Humor, Attempt at Humor, and more tags that i can't think of at the moment Summary:

Shin’s heart melts looking at the sincerity in Saint’s eyes and all his doubts slowly dissipate. If Saint is saying that he is in love with him, then it must be the truth. Neither of them was ever able to lie to each other without making it obvious. And thus Shin dares to hope once again. Maybe they do have a chance, maybe this is all worth a shot.

[ask-the-invincible-crew]

Snitches get stitches, Burt.

[jjungkookislife]

this book idea better come soon bc the work drama is too much

[justablah56]

they should invent a job that I can do and I don't have to drive super far to get to