#relations and not knowing things is okay but you're all so content to be ignorant so long as your ignorance allows you to peddle absurd

[userautumn]

Some of you are so comfortable in the leftist utopia that exists only on the internet in leftist circles and I've got to be honest, that world does not exist. That world will never exist.

[curtins]

🌿 I LOVE YOU SO MATCHA! — gojo satoru sfw!

prologue. → green was the color of life, and gojo satoru, in all his contradictions, carried life in the way he loved recklessly, laughed shamelessly, and held you like the universe began and ended with you. 🌿 🤍 part of the cookbook (@antizenin)

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

but green is the colour of earth. of living things, of life. and of rot. — unknown.

warnings+. sweetness and established relationship, there's angst in this i genuinely couldn't help it, reader wears a dress in a scene, mentions of injury!

word count. 4k! song inspiration. luther — kendrick lamar, sza

a/n. i'm doing the sukuna shibuya bow from making another predictable twist and ending. but i actually rlly loved writing this, this fic is gonna stay with me i fear <3 gif made by me!

mp3. if it was up to me, i wouldn't give these nobodies no sympathy. i'd take away the pain, i'd give you everything

most people think of gojo satoru in shades of blue.

not the soft and wistful kind that paints summer skies, or the quiet ripple of a lake at dawn. no, they think of an unearthly blue. sharp and electrifying, the kind that stings your eyes and lingers even after you look away.

the shocking azure of his cursed technique, like lightning bottled and ready to shatter the earth. or maybe it's the endless stretch of his eyes, the kind of blue that is so bright, you may burn yourself if you look too long.

to everyone else, gojo is blue. bold, and unrelenting and impossible to ignore.

but to you, gojo satoru is green.

it took time for you to notice it. green doesn't always shout or demand attention. it waits quietly in the background, sometimes content to let others take the stage.

but once you saw it, it was everywhere. it bloomed and took over your life.

the café smells like freshly brewed coffee, warm bread, and the faint sweetness of jasmine blooms sitting in a vase by the window. it's a quiet day, the kind that only seems to exist when gojo has finally managed to wrangle some rare time off.

your boyfriend sits across from you, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, grinning like he's thought of something utterly brilliant.

"okay, hear me out," he says, holding up a hand like he's about to make a groundbreaking declaration that will shatter the earth and bring world peace, "you're the oolong one for me."

you pause and scrunch your face, mid-sip in your tea, "please don't."

gojo leans forward, his grin growing wider ever still, "no? how about this? you're simply tea-rrific."

you bury your face in your hands, as an elderly couple looks at the two of you oddly, "you're unbearable."

"tea-rrific. like terrific," gojo laughs, wagging a finger like a professor lecturing his class, "get it? because -"

"oh, i get it," you cut in, shaking your head but still smiling at your entire world of a boyfriend, "i just refuse to reward bad behaviour."

but you should know better than to think you've tampered down on the relentless force that is gojo satoru. he is relentless in all things, especially when he decides to make you laugh. he's launched into an entire string of tea-related puns, each one worse than the last.

chai think you're amazing! we're a matcha made in heaven! leaf me alone, i'm on a roll!

and somehow, somewhere between the chai and matcha, you start to notice the green.

the delicate stems and leaves of the jasmine says slightly as the café door opens and closes, catching your eye. their soft green isn't loud nor is it attention-seeking. just quietly present, a backdrop to the white blooms that adorn their head.

it is the kind of colour you don't realise you've been missing until it's suddenly there.

you glance at the window, and the trees lining the street are the same, their leaves dappling the sunlight as they sway in the breeze. even the café walls, painted in a muted, sage-like shade, seem to glow just a little in the sunlight. a backdrop to gojo's charming antics.

he's still in front of you, his hair gleaming the same dewy shade as the jasmine blossoms. so animated as he explains why leaf me alone was an under appreciated pun.

there's green in him too, you think.

not in the obvious sense for gojo satoru is far too outwardly vivid to be defined by something as soft as the green akin to your matcha. but it's still there, beneath the flash of his grin and the sharpness of his humour. in the way that he leans closer to make sure you're still smiling.

in the way he somehow turns the whole world into a quiet garden on days like this.

"okay," gojo says, leaning back to cross his arms over his crisp white tee, "i'll stop. but admit it, i brewed up some great ones."

you roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you, "fine. one of them was acceptable."

gojo gasps, clutching his chest like you've delivered a fatal, cleaving wound, "one? one? i give you comedy gold, and the love of my life repays me like this!"

the jasmine leaves quiver again as your knee knocks up, shaking the table, "you're impossible."

gojo smiles softer this time, tipping his head as though you've delivered the greatest compliment in the world, "yeah. but love me so matcha!"

the strongest sorcerer in modern history is cracking himself up again, and you can feel the warmth of the colour green around you. in the leaves, in the dappled light, and the man across from you who somehow makes the world softer, and sweeter. and full of life.

there's a matcha-green hoodie in gojo's closest. it's oversized, cozy and worn just enough at the cuffs to feel like a bit of a secret. something loved so well that it holds pieces of him in the quilted fabric.

it's nothing like the sharp navy and indigo of his uniform that he wears on duty, where every line is a untouchable warning. no, these clothes are the opposite for you. it's familar. it's gojo's off-duty self, the one that the rest of the world doesn't get to see.

gojo only really wears it at home, when he's padding around barefoot with tousled, snowy hair brushing over his forehead as he pretends to tiptoe (and fails spectacularly) to let you sleep in. it's the kind of green that somehow makes the mornings softer, as if the day dances quietly around you too.

it's also the green of the evenings when he drapes himself over the couch in your apartment, long legs dangling over the armrest while he beckons you with a lazy smile.

the fabric is impossibly soft against your cheek as you settle into his broad chest, and his arms loop around you like they were always meant to belong there. it smells like him too, a little like cedar and a little like pine. and you think it might be your favourite place in the world.

one time, you stole it.

you hadn't planned it. you had been cold, and it had been right there. before you knew it, you had been walking around the house in its oversized embrace.

when gojo had caught you for the first, his grin stretched wide, playful and wicked.

"hey, well," gojo had drawled, leaning against a doorframe like a cartoon cat that had finally cornered the mouse, "look who's going through other people's closets."

you tugged the sleeves further over your hands, "it's comfortable. you take my shit all the time."

"it's cute on you," gojo says, sauntering closer and placing his large hands on either side of your face, "but you know...no one looks cuter than me."

you snort and turn your back on him, which only encourages for the six-foot-three man to chase after you. and even though he claimed he needed it back, he didn't get it for a week.

maybe because you refused to give it up, or maybe because every time he saw you in it, he just shook his head, grinning as if he’d been caught in the middle of something he didn’t mind losing.

when gojo invited you back to the family estate, you had braced yourself for grandeur. looming gates, and endless halls. the suffocating weight of tradition.

and yes, the grandeur had been there. but what lingered most in your memory wasn't the vastness or the architecture. it was how beautiful it was.

there were several shrines that lay nestled among the estate, hidden away on plots of land. this one had been worn soft by time, covered in moss and nestled among the larger stones.

spring had woven itself into every corner of the estate, from the blossoms swaying overhead to the long grass brushing against your ankles as you walked.

gojo stood a few steps ahead of you, glancing back as if to make sure that you hadn't disappeared, hadn't been swallowed up by the earth. he was dressed in far more traditional robes for once, navy linen lowing and rippling as he moved.

but there was something endearingly out of place about him here, like a bird perched on the wrong branch.

"spring makes it look nicer than it is," he said, running his fingers over the soft, white edges of his undercut. you can hear the underlying vulnerable note in his seemingly casual voice.

you didn’t reply right away, too caught up in the way the sunlight filtered through the cherry blossoms, scattering dappled green shadows across the worn stone steps. when you reached the base of the shrine, you paused, taking it all in: the moss, the blossoms, the breeze, and him.

"it's beautiful," you said finally, and he gave you a lopsided smile that felt more honest than any grandeur could ever be.

he waited for you at the top of the steps, his gaze steady and warm as the spring air. for a moment, he looked like he belonged here, a part of the ancient garden itself. like a carven statue created by loving hands, forever memorialised as something not quite human. but you knew better.

he didn't like this place — this house that felt more like a museum than a home, this estate heavy with the weight of a family name he wore like armour. since arriving, he’d been quieter than usual, his usual spark dimmed by old memories and expectations, and constantly bowing servants who called him lord and master gojo.

but now, as gojo watched you walk through the long grass, something shifted. his shoulders have relaxed, his hands hung loose at his sides. and then, so softly you almost missed it, he says, "i want to marry you."

you froze, the words catching in the breeze between you.

he wasn’t looking at the shrine anymore, or the blossoms, or the sky. gojo satoru was looking at you, his blue eyes calm and unwavering, like he’d found his answer in the very place he’d been avoiding.

"i know it's not much right now," he added, his voice low and rough around the edges, as though he wasn’t used to baring this part of himself, "and i don't care what the elders say. but you're the only person i want."

at the edge of the jujutsu high campus, there's a vending machine of incredible drinks. its green paint had faded, and chipped from the years of stubborn sun and countless coins clinking into its slot.

it hums faintly, blending into the scenery like a reliable friend that carried you through your own years of high school.

somehow, it's become your spot. not officially, no. there was no grand declaration, no conscious agreement and treaty. but after his classes, he always ends up here.

and so do you.

it starts the same way each time. gojo satoru saunters up to his fiancé with that unmistakable grin, white hair catching the light as if he was trying outshine the sun itself.

you watch as he slides a coin into the slot with theatrical position, with his finger hovering dramatically over the buttons. like he's choosing between life and death, instead of commercial canned drinks.

"one iced matcha," gojo announces in a tone meant for a training arena, and not a quiet campus corner. his hand arcs in an exaggerated flourish as he offers you the drink, "for the love of my life."

you roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you, "flattery won’t get you anywhere," you reply, accepting the can and cracking it open with practiced ease.

it's a dance you've done a hundred times, but somehow it never gets old. he leans against the vending machine, towering and smug, watching you take a sip like he’s waiting for something.

"don't even think about it, satoru" you warn, holding the can just out of his reach.

but it’s gojo, so of course he thinks about it. he grins wider — how is that possible? and in one fluid motion, he leans in and steals a sip before you can react.

"i will get revenge, always so difficult," you weakly huff, but your fond smile gives you away.

"difficult to resist," he counters, winking like it’s a challenge, "besides," gojo adds, holding the can up to the light as if inspecting its soul, "it tastes better when it’s yours."

you snatch it back, pretending to glare at him, but he’s already leaning closer, his hand brushing yours as he reaches to press another button.

"second round?" he asks, as if this isn’t already part of his plan.

the vending machine hums again, green and steady and familiar, as it delivers another drink with a satisfying clunk.

green had grown to be more than just a colour. it had been a thread that stitched its way through your love story. quiet and constant.

so when the day came, when your heart thudded heavier than ever before and your hands shook just slightly as you smoothed down the expensive fabric, it only made sense that the colour of vitality and new beginnings was everywhere.

the first ceremony itself had been steeped in tradition, from the elegant folds of your formal robes to the rhythmic chants that seemed to echo on in your head. you were grateful for its beauty, but it was the dinner afterwards that felt like yours truly.

the reception was tucked away in a corner of the sprawling grounds, where the tables were adorned with white lilies so luminous they seemed to carry their own light. they sat in vases of muted jade, the colour rich and soft, like the grass after a spring rain. the candles flickered in delicate green holders, casting shadows that waltzed across the tablecloths.

gojo was, of course, the first thing you noticed when you stepped into the space. he wasn’t wearing robes anymore; he’d swapped them for a sleek black suit that fit him perfectly, save for the ever-so-slightly loosened tie (because he couldn't help himself). his hair, as untameable as always, gleamed in the low light.

and then there was you, in a flowing green dress that felt like you’d stepped out of a dream and into his orbit. the soft fabric caught the candlelight, shifting from deep emerald to pale sage as you moved, shimmering. you thought about how this colour, the one that reminded you of leaves and tea and moss-covered shrines — had always meant life to you.

gojo's grin when he saw you was wide enough to rival the moon, and he made a show of adjusting his tie like a movie star spotting their co-star for the first time, with an awfully cliché wink.

"you clean up nice," he said, eyes gleaming with mischief, and then something more love-struck, "my beautiful wife. i must be the luckiest man on earth."

"and you’re just realising this now?" you teased, the soft fabric of your dress whispering as you stepped closer.

dinner wasn’t a grand banquet, but it was perfect — just your closest friends, a table overflowing with warmth, and gojo stealing glances at you as if you’d disappear if he looked away for too long. between bites of food and sips of something sweet, he leaned over to whisper ridiculous commentary in your ear about your guests: how much wine nanami had thrown back, or how shoko had situated herself perfectly near the food.

but then, in quieter moments, he’d reach for your hand beneath the table, his thumb tracing soft, lazy circles on your skin.

the night blurred into laughter and soft music, of digital cameras and drunk speeches. the green hues around you shifting like memories folding into themselves. you caught sight of the lilies swaying gently in the breeze and thought about how gojo had insisted on them when you’d been indecisive.

"white lilies mean devotion," he'd said, smirking like he knew something you didn’t.

"and green?" you'd asked.

"green's for us," he replied, "or for you. i know you like it so much. an' it's cute when you're sentimental."

by the end of the night, gojo's tie was completely undone, and his jacket hung over the back of a chair. he pulled you onto the dance floor despite your protests that your feet hurt, practically yelling in their strapped heels.

"then i'll carry you," he said dramatically, dipping you halfway before breaking into laughter when you yelped.

the two of you swayed there, in the gentle green glow of the reception, his arms wrapped around you and the world falling into place. your husband smelled faintly of the lilies and something warm you couldn’t name. you're sure if you put pen to paper, like a poet of old, you might be able to name that feeling.

"you know," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, "i've been to a lot of ceremonies, but this one’s definitely my favourite."

"oh? why's that?" you asked, resting your cheek against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"because this time, i got to marry you."

you used to love the colour white. it had been the colour everything pure. everything soft that made you feel safe. the brightness of it had brought a clarity to the world.

it was the colour gojo's unruly hair, glistening in the sun like a crown. you had been so enamoured, watching him run slender fingers through soft strands. to you, white had always been perfect and radiant in all of gojo's unbridled glory.

but the winds of the snow storm must have shifted.

you still remember that day so vividly, as if your mind could never forget it no matter how much you wished it could. the white falling on the streets of shinjuku, covered with layers of freshly fallen snow. pristine and untouched.

but there had been a sickening crack of flesh against pavement, the wet thud that only those who've known death too closely can identify.

you had seen it before you'd even registered the horror of it all. the red, the bright crimson that bled into the snow. staining it, warping it. turning it into something so vile. the ministrations of ryomen sukuna.

gojo's body, cleaven and unmoving. the garnet staining his snow-white hair as it pulled from under his spine. the quiet calm that had settled over his face, as if he had seen something so wondrous in his last moments.

that snow, once so untouched and pure, was suffocated by the iron scent of blood. and at that moment, when you had lost him forever, was the moment you knew that white would never mean purity again.

the colour of white, the colour of christmas eve — no longer held any softness for you. it wasn’t the gentle lightness of his hair; it was the cold, hard truth of loss. it was the memory of blood seeping into that pure snow, the last thing he saw before his life was ripped away.

now, you avoid it. you avoid white whenever you can, as if by doing so, you can erase that moment from your mind. you keep your house warm and cozy, perhaps almost unhealthily so, with shades of warm and soft earth tones, and you dress your daughter in colours that remind you of life, of what was still worth living for. but white? it's a shadow, a reminder. so, you avoid it.

but then, one afternoon, a few months later, your daughter tugs at your hand, small and warm, a soft giggle escaping her as she skips ahead of you. you can’t help but smile at her, at how much of gojo satoru is in her — the way she laughs without hesitation, the way her energy fills up every room, every corner.

you're walking down the street, the air still crisp from the tail-end of winter. it's one of those moments when the world feels ordinary, but in the best way possible. sunlight filtering down between reconstructed buildings, the bustle of the city in the background, your daughter's little chirp bubbling in the space between. you're lost in her, in the joy she brings.

but then, you stop.

you don't mean to. you didn't even notice where your feet were taking you until it happens. your gaze drops to the ground, and there it is.

that spot. the place where it all happened. the very spot where the white had been stained with merlot, the place where gojo's life was stolen from you. the pavement looks the same, the cracks just as they were before, but there's something different now.

a tiny green plant, barely noticeable, growing through the crack in the concrete. the leaves are soft, a rich shade of green that seems to pulse with life. it's small, fragile, but determined, its roots pushing through the cold, unforgiving pavement.

you swallow, the lump in your throat almost choking you.

"satoru..." you whisper to yourself, but your daughter’s voice pulls you from your morbid, breaking thoughts.

"look!"

you glance down, seeing her kneeling beside the plant, her tiny hands reaching out to touch it with wonder in her eyes.

"it's pretty, isn’t it? can i pick it?" she asks, her voice light and innocent.

you nod, tears welling up in your eyes that you refuse to let fall. you hold your breath, trying to steady your heart. it's absurd, you think, how something so small, so simple, could make you feel so much. how something as insignificant as a sprout could make the weight of the world feel just a little bit lighter.

nitrogen, iron and phosphorus are all found in human blood. and hey! they're also needed for plants to grow!

you hear the voice of teenage shoko, kicking her legs back as you tried to finish your homework, right before yaga assigned you another detention. but now the memory comes back to you, sickens you. tears at your heart.

you crouch down beside her, your fingers gently brushing against the plant’s leaves.

"yeah, it's pretty," you whisper, voice barely audible. “best let it rest where it is, yeah?"

you've taken a deep breath and stand up, your daughter tugging you along as she continues on her path, unknowing, innocent. entirely unaware of the memory of her father, lauded as a hero and as a sharp weapon by all those who knew him.

most of those who knew him.

but you glance back at the little plant, the green leaves waving in the soft breeze, and for the first time in months, you don’t feel the crushing weight of grief.

you just feel… a little less lost. and for the first time, the colour green feels like something more than a memory of gojo satoru.

more of a promise for the future, for those who lived on.

[forgettable-au]

WHAT IS THIS AU? HOW DOES IT WORK?

A brief (I'm lying, this is a long post) explanation post for this AU for anyone new <3

As I've mentioned before, this AU is based on the theory that Papyrus is (was) Gaster. I did not create this theory, it has existed for a long time as far as I know and I'm also not the first person to do something like this with the concept, I'll touch up on that later.

This is a LONG post, so click keep reading if you really want to check it out :D

About the Papyrus is Gaster theory

I've looked up a lot of stuff about it but I don't actually know where it originated. It's not super popular but if you're a Papyrus theorist you might have heard of it before.

It's not a super serious theory really, it's more about pointing out the weird connections and similarities between Papyrus and Gaster and giving an explanation to the many weird things about Papyrus and his lack of backstory.

Just to mention some things:

Them both speaking in capital letters, having no asterisks, their weird way of phrasing things, Papyrus being described as forgettable, Papyrus hating hotland, pretending he doesn't know about a lot of stuff ( The lab for example, he know what a lab is but pretends he doesn't in front of Sans), Gaster being related to hands and Papyrus never taking his gloves off, Papyrus weird connection with phones (his photo-graphic memory for phone calls) and Gaster's weird connection to phones also(Fun events related to phones, using the phone in the darkworlds and only getting Gaster's garbage sounds), their love for puzzles (The CORE is a giant puzzle), THAT one quote that I still find misterious “beside, it’s rude to talk about people that are listening, right? not everyone is as though as my brother”, Papyrus DOES have Gaster blasters it's pretty much canon even if a lot of people ignore it, Papyrus is very very smart he has a LOT of books, knowledge on many subjects, building stuff, and even made a shakespeare reference when he died (why is he like this lmao), he's the character with the most dialogue in game yet we don't know a lot of stuff about him, he breaks the laws of physics and of the game, he's not in deltarune the heavily Gaster connected game.

Now that's some of the things I could think about, and look, yeah I'm probably looking too much into it and these are all just coincidences and the weird Papyrus things are related to other stuff maybe not Gaster. But I still like this theory, not because I think it's real but because I LOVE the possibilites!!!

About how this AU works

Okay, so this au is basically a -pretend this theory is real and how would the undertale timeline work then!- We're giving Papyrus his backstory and I'm also making a Gaster focused story at the same time.

I will adapt basically how I think a situations like this would play out (and also add some of my other favorite ut theories as a treat)

Papyrus used to be Wingdings and then Wingdings shattered across time and space, Papyrus and Gaster are different separate people.

Actually I kind of, treat WIngdings before and after accident as different people also... you change a lot when you become an omnipresent being. So, Wingdings, Gaster and Papyrus I treat them all as different people.

"How did Gaster become Papyrus?"

He didn't "become" Papyrus just like that. After he shattered he stopped existing like he was before, he became a being in another layer of the game but physically his body was just there

I based this on how the goners and Gaster followers have counterparts that are not, uh, goners that look different or deformed and gray

Papyrus was just kind af an empty shell at first, he still kept parts of Wingdings original personality but his Papyrus personality developed on his own with time!

"How did Gaster shatter across time and space?"

Usually everyone agrees it was because he fell into the CORE

About similar content

Not here! I don't think the CORE caused his accident, it is a power source not a time and space altering machine. In this story it was some other thing he was working on, and it wasn't so much of an accident per se

If you have more questions you can check the frequently asked questions post or send me an ask <3!!

I've seen some people tell me this is a good idea for an AU and I agree!! I love this idea so much, but as I said before I didn't create this concept or theory I just love it a lot!! and was desperate for content wich I surprisingly did not found much of

I was so surprised, I really thought there would be more people that made this before but I couldn't find much, so I'm just making it myself and one of my goals is to maybe make other people like this idea and make their own takes on it !! cause i think it's neat and would love more perspectives and content

If you by any chance also like this concept as much as I do I just wanted to make this section to name some inspirations for this AU

First, you all should really see "I know that I know nothing" by linssins

It's because of this comic that I discovered that theory in the first place and really loved the concept. It's my main inspiration, unfortunately the comic is unfinished. If you see it you will definitely see how I took inspiration... Still my story and this au is a different take on the theory, it goes on a different path.

Also another inspiration for finding more stuff about the theory were

@askthesciencesquad This comic is paused but it's also a Papyrus!Gaster comic! and I was very happy to find it, it is also a very different take on the concept but I liked where it was going. The same person also has this other blog where they put a lot of Papyrus is gaster stuff :0 @deviodofmeat

Okay so that's it, maybe I missed some stuff? but if I remeber i'll just add it later, that's what's good about tumblr.

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey guysss! A lot of people have been asking for me to make a challenge for a while now. I honestly didn’t want to, not because I’m against them or anything but because the law will be different for everyone. Sometimes, it feels like tumblr needs a reminder - you are the only person who knows what you need to do to succeed. I wish I could imprint this realization on everyone's minds. I’ve also gotten so manyyyy asks about things that genuinely just feel like your doubts repeating in your mind constantly so I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs bc y’all are spiraling really hard. I get it you want your desires for Christmas and new years. It’s okay take a breath, you're alive and will be okay.

Firstly: at the beginning I used to spend countless time spiraling into depression, constantly changing my methods every time I saw a new success story, and every time I found a new foolproof' tumblr method. Methods that were supposed to guarantee results in a day so when they didn’t I felt rlly useless. It was annoying, to say the least, and I don’t want to help others do the same thing, but really all I can do is reiterate what I always say and hope you apply it to everything!!

A lot of you guys wanted something that didn’t involve the void state, so that’s what this will revolve around! But feel free to make this void orientated if you desire, and I’ll also add a void section so all my babies can eat!

Ok so you’ve over consumed, you have dropped the void, and now have switched to just assuming and knowing that you would wake up with your dream life - embracing states. Great! At first, it will seem like you're doing nothing but you aren’t! For example, I knew I was dwelling in the state of wish fulfilled when I went to work without shedding tears, when I looked in the mirror and didn't think I was ugly because, well, I'm beautiful! I didn't care abt not performing well on a test because I could revise my past etc. this isn’t to say ignore the 3D: don’t do that, please try and make sure you’re safe and okay. But know life is malleable. Slowly, things that used to bother me—my parents, grades, anxiety, self-deprivation—started to fade away. Even though my dream life hadn't reflected in my 3D yet, I felt the switch. That's when I decided, I know what to do.

I also remember finding this cute website a long time ago that I want to share that summarizes it in such a great and simple way.

So Before I knew or understood what LOA was, I found this gem of an article on I am Love'- "How To Shift Into A State & Stay There". I think I have a post abt it somewhere on my blog but I’m too lazy to find it so here it is again.

Basically it explains that the essence of shifting into a desired state and staying there. What resonated with me was her choice to dwell in the state of knowing that her desires are hers, no matter what.

The way she used colloquial language made the content relatable and easy to understand. It's like having a conversation with a friend who's guiding you through hard concepts with “dumbed down” language because at the beginning states made 0 sense to me.

Posts like this really helped me particularly because when I discovered Neville, it required three attempts on my part to not only intellectually grasp his teachings, but also to truly comprehend him as a whole, given his non-contemporary speaking tbh.

I recommend it if you find yourself stuck or not really grasping the law yet (which is more than okay) but, if you're looking to understand the loa better or just learn more give this article a read.

There’s also a particular quote from Neville that really got me to dive into his work after finding this article and it was- “The being that you really are, descended to the weakness of the flesh, causing you to experience the state you are now in. Contemplate another state, and the same being who brought your present form into being will restore and make alive the other state, the state desired. This he will continue to do until his purpose is fulfilled. That purpose is to follow a certain pattern back into the unity of being. You see, in the beginning we were drafted. We did not volunteer to fall into these states. We were made subject into futility, not willingly but by the will of him who sent us. But when we return we will discover that we are the very being who subjected us. We are now the sons, destined to return as God the Father!”

Now that you understand and are ready to apply state, Here’s a routine I’ve created to hopefully help you guys! It is very simple and not time consuming at all.

Scripting and writing: I love writing and feeling like the author of my own story, literally bringing my creation to life. I would write when I felt like it. Whenever I wanted to dwell in my state, I would simply write, "I have my dream life." It's so simple, yet it embodies everything I need. If you’re more of a picture girl, use Pinterest instead. Or both if you prefer it doesn’t matter.

Edward arts' "I am creator meditation": Again, do this whenever you like it. It's one of the few meditations that didn't bore me to death and seemed to work with my ADHD. I also love reading, so I would read his pdf whenever I felt like it and take mental notes. Reading his work was a reminder I was doing everything right, it resonated with me very well.

During doubt and overstimulation: When things get overwhelming, close your eyes and let the emotions pass. They’re just thoughts! repeat the words "I am" until your heart returns to its normal rhythm. It's a simple yet powerful way to ground yourself amidst the whirlwind of emotions. And guess what? You can use this technique for doubt too! So the next time you're feeling overwhelmed, remember the power of "I am". It's a gentle reminder of your existence, your resilience, and your capability to be whatever you want despairs any emotional turmoil.

Thank god: (yourself!!) When reminded of your desires. Thank you god. When you see your desires, (eg:Pinterest, online or you’re just reminded) thank you god! When you see an image of your desires, thank you god! When you dream or think about your desires. Thank god! Always thank the person fulfilling it aka you ;)! If you’re religious just thank the god you actually follow.

Nightly reflections: At night, ask yourself , "What would I do if I woke up in my dream life right now?" repeat this question throughout the night. Then, imagine whatever scene you want. What would you do if you could not fail? What would you do if you had all the money in the world right now. What if you looked in the mirror and saw the most ethereal being and it’s just you? What about if you woke up in your dream house with your dream family and pets? This is inspired by one of the first shifting methods I created that helped me fulfill my imagination before I knew what that meant. When you’re ready to sleep just remind yourself it is done, and drift off into your desires.

As I've always said, I've been a great daydreamer. I knew exactly what I wanted my life to look and feel like. I envisioned my walk-in closet filled with luxurious outfits, waking up in my dream room on a soft mattress with my pets purring nearby. I saw the decor reflecting my personality in every corner of my large, and pretty room. I imagined walking into my bathroom, seeing all my cool Sephora products lined up for my skincare and shower routine. I love taking care of myself because I know I deserve it. I saw myself looking in the mirror, knowing I'm "that girl" who turns heads wherever she goes.I visualized going downstairs in my boujee dream house,and seeing my family stress-free, smiling, and eating well. I saw plans being made on my phone, my friends were excited to see and talk to me. I went to my kitchen, filled with expensive ingredients ready for me to cook meals for my loved ones - because I love cooking. I saw myself checking my bank account and seeing multiple seven figures in my savings, checking, and investment accounts and opportunities easily presenting myself to make more if I wanted. I saw myself running errands in my car, shopping, getting Starbucks, having expensive lunch with friends, and making a trip to Target. Despite the simplicity of the day, I would come home and be like, "Ugh, what a long day!"like that one khloe kardashian meme. What if all this happened today? Visualize and feel the scenes so clearly that it felt like it's already happening.. not just in your imagination.

Most importantly: Define the law for you! Stop parroting bloggers and intertwine your own beliefs with the law. The only principle of the law is that through persistence assumption will harden into a fact. Other than that anything goes except for facts that are wrong.

Here’s old notes I found in my phone lol just so you know what I mean by define the law for you: ignore the writing I was kinda dumb and new to the law 😭😭

Now this is for my void babies if you made it this far.

Read this post.

This is it copied bc the links are wonky sometimes

“My previous method is based on the persistent assumption, which a lot of people don’t know how to do right and it might take some time even for those who have the right self-concept and the mindset, so today I was in the process of manifesting this method.

And I was successful!

This method is for everyone. It’s the easiest Void method.

Do you know that you get into the Void state at night automatically? At that time the whole perceived world disappears for you. Every single perception and assumption you have disappears while your consciousness in the calm and natural Void state.

Use it to your advantage. Now that you know about the Void that you enter when you sleep, the perfect state to manifest anything that you wish to perceive, with no “resistance”, no illusions of annoying solid things around, you only need to remember your scripted starting point in your DR and practice watching it all coming out of the Void.

Practice that scene with your eyes closed, say to yourself:”That is what I perceive. Next time I’m in the Void, I’ll experience this”. You won’t even need to be fully aware of yourself that way when you get into the Void while you are asleep. Your subconscious would do all the work as it now would have the instruction and a clear image of you expecting it.

Personal experience: as I was receiving information on this method, I almost stepped into my DR! I wasn’t even in the absolute void state, I was only creating the scene for this method and I felt it materialise with my senses!

I have great feeling that it’s going to give fast results for others! Try it, teach your subconscious what it needs to bring forth while in the Void, let it do your work for you!”

Lastly, I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs real quick bc the fear of shifting vs manifesting makes me sad for y’all. I understand you don’t wanna leave behind the people you love and that’s not fear to feel ashamed of having! I personally hate the npc mindset a lot of have people have adopted. The only thing we know for sure is that assumptions create realities, and consciousness is the real reality. Everything else boils down to assumptions, except for principles. For example, shifting is not lucid dreaming, even if you assume it to be. That is the principle. I’m just going to copy what I told my mutal bc I’m lazy and need to finish Christmas stuff 😭😭 but Our imagination and the 4D realm are products of our consciousness, which is indeed real. Our view of reality is shaped by our consciousness, since we can't experience everything all at once.

Unless, of course, you shift into a super omnipotent god. Even then, you’d probably still struggle with the concept of infinity because, well, infinity is infinite. And it’s constantly a never exnding expansion. As humans, we're finite beings, and our understanding of the infinite is naturally limited. Because you can’t and won’t ever experience everything at once, infinity is always expanding. Our awareness can be thought of as fragments of consciousness; it's like being a drop of water in a massive ocean. Even though our perception is limited, the infinite is always there, always existing. We simply adjust our awareness to perceive this infinite reality.

And through our consciousness, we are able to tap into other realities or 'multiverses', which give us a broader understanding of existence. This exploration of consciousness and the multiverse is a significant part of my journey into the world of manifestation.

The law of consciousness explains why, when you "shift" or change your perspective, you don't physically move. It's all about altering your state of awareness. This is also why time doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. You can become aware of any time or day you want, as long as you choose to be aware of it. It's like having a mental time machine. This law is why infinite universes exist. As long as you can be aware of it, you can assume and embody the state of that person. Whether that's someone with a billion dollars on Earth, or a person who lives in the Attack on Titan world, it's all about your awareness.Our awareness is just a fragment of the larger consciousness – hence the idea of the multiverse. Each universe is a different fragment, a different state of awareness. And we have the power to “shift” into any of these states, therefore shifting into any of these universes.

I’m telling you this bc there’s no need to be afraid of manifesting or being in a reality with robotic versions of the people you love. Ariana grande and Marilyn Monroe for example talk about loa without acknowledging it and we see their success. Neville Goddard and his followers saw each other’s manifestions and I manifest for my friends and they mnaifest for me.

Take a deep breath and let go of the tik tok clone mindsets y’all have they don’t exist. You can manifest and assume anything you want in your imagination. Y’all literally want to manifest things like millions of dollars, revising deaths, living in new countries, having immorality in your waiting rooms, and never aging which is all possible of course. So be for real, why assume and know that you can achieve all that, but it won't manifest exactly how you want? I've also wondered about what happens to the "old version" of people when they manifest their dream life. As far as I'm concerned, they dont exist because you choose not to be aware of them.

I really want to talk about this too, as I've received similar questions and, oh my god, I thought I was alone. I've always been a bit delusional and lived in my head, but when I became conscious of the law, did anyone else feel a sense of self-embarrassment? I don't know what that was, but I'd genuinely feel my soul wanting to throw up envisioning my desires that aren't mine, even though I've always been a daydreamer. It's kind of like when you feel you can't have them or it's strange to envision yourself with something you can't have, so you just purge yourself. 😭

I was thinking back to why that happened and laughing at myself because we need to be serious right now. Why are you getting sick by your own mind? Imagine if Van Gogh, anytime he pulled out a canvas and held a brush, was jump-scared by the brush. Picture him holding out the brush and just staring at the canvas crying because "well, the painting is going to suck 😐," "I don't know what to paint☹️☹️," "I already know it won't be like what I envision in my head 😡😡." Like, bro, the canvas is blank, just fucking paint. That’s why I really like his quote that's like...

“If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” So If you’re scared of failing, if you’re scared of your desires, or scared of how it will come to fruition, for that reason alone is more so to and manifest it anyways.

But happy holidays guys! make some tea, scroll through Pinterest, read a good book and watch some Christmas films and remember if you can imagine/think your desires you can embody them bc where are you getting it from??

Here are some helpful documents I have read plus a cute vid I saw on insta reels : (let me know if the links are being weird)

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[queenimmadolla]

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • eddie edit © @fefemunson! • ao3

Summary: After four long years of pining, it’s high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there’s no better time for love confessions than Valentine’s Day. If only you hadn’t chosen to do so anonymously, because you’re pretty sure Eddie Munson is hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff

authors note: no, you're not imagining things. i'm reposting a story i already have up. unfortunately, i seem to have an anti who has been flagging anything of mine that gains traction as content that it is not so it's hidden to those who don't have the settings on (most people) and goes to die away, never to be interacted with again. they're attempting to do the same to Magical Mysteria, as they had the original flagged and, therefore, hidden. because everyone seemed to really relate to reader and enjoyed reading this particular fic, i've decided to give that anti the finger, so here's a repost.

word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

“Are you stalking him again?”

You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile. 

“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking. 

“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time. 

Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you. 

You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her. 

“Can you leave this on his desk?” 

“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them. 

She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything. 

You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.  

During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place. 

You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so. 

You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there. 

The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then. 

The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him,  you just had to write your name.

Yeah, simple as that.

You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper. 

You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

Just write on the paper.

Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

—

Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him. 

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around. 

He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking. 

The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared. 

By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public. 

He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance. 

“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

“I swore.”

Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump. 

“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

── 

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich. 

“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone. 

Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note. 

“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason behind why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

─

Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table. 

His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, was on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

“Eddie?”

His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

“On the house.”

“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

Was she playing coy?

“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping, if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

Chrissy glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him. 

“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.” 

Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there. 

He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies. 

“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis. 

He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down. 

“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

Eddie,

Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real. 

She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the underclassmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it). 

And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying. 

But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should. 

You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel. 

So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

Love,

What the fuck?

Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

 There was no name.

“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear. 

His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose. 

The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular. 

“Byers. Where’s Byers?”

“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness. 

It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards. 

He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

“Is this yours?”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“No.” Then he walked out.

Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

His secret admirer’s pen.

“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party. 

It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme. 

He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author. 

Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door. 

Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection. 

He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

“Hey, you okay?”

─

Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were. 

Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party. 

You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.” 

Try devastated.

“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it. 

But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you. 

“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

“Ah, I see. Is he here?”

You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

“Because I have no idea who she is.”

Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that. 

“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

You frowned down at him. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Hello. 

Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.” 

Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

“Is that my pen?”

“Huh?”

“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked. 

When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

“What?” 

He finally blinked, licking his lips again. 

“You’re a really good liar.”

“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

“This is your pen?”

“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public. 

“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?” 

You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack. 

“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?” 

“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

“Is Eddie looking for you?”

“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken. 

“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why would he be looking for you?”

You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. 

“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger. 

Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle. 

Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you. 

It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

“Hi, again.”

You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

“It’s only fair, right? Since I know?”

You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

He didn’t leave you waiting for long. 

“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it. 

“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you. 

“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath. 

There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions. 

He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

“They’re not the only ones.”

Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

—  You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did. 

Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear. 

“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated. 

With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

“Like ‘em?”

You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses. 

“. . .  You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

─

Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.  

[chishiyae]

— HIS LOVE FOR YOU ! [𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜] e42! miles morales.

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ a ten headcannon summary on what it’s like being the prowlers girlfriend. a man whose demeanor is cold but heart is warm.

a/n. — pretty sure it’s been…what? five months since i’ve last been on here? damn that was a long time ago, but i’m back and after restarting my layout and things, i’m writing 🤍

E42!MILES, will never tell you how he feels about emotional matters in your relationship. and by this, i mean that if you were to lay on his chest one day knowing he's had a rough day, instead of saying thank you or how much he loves you (or anything like that), he'll massage your back and close his eyes in contentment. he's been more reclusive to himself than ever since he lost his dad. and, as much as he loves and appreciates you, it's difficult for him to be so honest. so, he does that slowly…but even then, he holds a few things back. because he can never just show you all of his love.

when it comes to “i love you”, he takes that phrase very seriously. he believes it’s more than just a catchphrase and hence only says it when the situation really calls for it. that way you feel the meaning. like when he's leaving to do his duties as prowler, not knowing if he'll return. there have been a few occasions where he’s said it when the situation "didn't call for it" — by few, I mean less than five. although, as the relationship progresses, he says it more frequently than he normally would.

don't let him not saying it all the time mislead you for rejection. he fills that hole with a plethora of reassurances ranging from presents to nicknames. looking at "ma," "mamas," "baby," and "princesa," and you'll know he's serious when he uses your real name.

in arguments, he has a small tendency to forget that you have feelings. not to the point that you wanna end the relationship, but enough that you need to ignore him for a day because if you tried more than a day, he wouldn't be able to handle it anymore. you each have a day to chill out and that's all. he values communication. always has been — even before his father died — but now that he's allowing another person into his life, his priorities are shifting and you’re definitely in his list of people to cherish and protect. so he does everything he can to talk things out and apologize. arguments don’t happen often.

he’s not possessive, but rather protective. I mean, can you blame him with this fucked up city? every time you two go out, it’s either holding hands or him putting an arm over your shoulder so no one messes with you. if you’d ask him if a revealing outfit you're wearing is okay, he'd answer "doesn't matter, I can fight." for sure.

for your safety, he never includes you in prowler-related activities, talks, or general topics, but of course he told you about him being the prowler. he told you the instant he realized he loved you. and only tells you he loves you after you’ve accepted that reality. disregarding his uncle's advice not to tell you anything. communication is key right? and that’s a big part of his life.

just like physical touch. he loves kissing you. your forehead and neck especially. passionate kisses are his favorite, slow and sweet. his kisses always aimed at determining what you ate or placed to your lips prior so he could get a taste and guess. regardless of how horrible or delicious it tastes because it's a tiny game he made. did that have anything to do with wanting to kiss you longer? yeah. but what did the first headcannon have to say about his emotions? plus, he liked it after the first time he tried it, and now it’s his favorite portion of any day.

meeting his mom would almost certainly be by coincidence. he wouldn't have planned for you to meet her for at least three months, so he knows it's serious, but she’d meet you sooner. you'd walk by her house and she'd say something like, "i've seen you around miles before," knowing he doesn't let many people in. and is curious about you. she'll naturally ask you as many questions as she can before miles interferes, but even if she likes you, don't address her by her first name.

it doesn't matter when, but whenever your finger is in his way? he’s gonna bite it. there’s no hesitation. as well as engaging in play fights with you whenever possible.

and last but certainly not least, encourages you to do things he’s never done. no elaboration. just gonna let you think on that one.

© 2023, CHISHIYAE

[antimony-medusa]

Okay this is 100% discourse, so maybe avert your eyes if you don't want to see me wail at the heavens, but for a fandom so anxious about boundaries, we haven't actually been very good in practice at respecting the actual stated boundaries the streamers put down, and I think it shows what we're actually policing, which is not things to make the streamers comfortable, it's stuff to make us comfortable.

This ranges from inventing new boundaries for people (you can't use neopronouns for ranboo, their pronouns are he/they; there's no boundaries on dark content for streamers so obviously we have to invent and enforce dark sbi rules ourselves) and then harassing people based on those boundaries that we just made up, to ignoring the actual things that the streamers said if we don't agree with them (cc!dream said he was uncomfortable with gore art back during the revolutionary war/exile but he's a villain, right, so we can just do whatever we want with the character, right?) and just doing whatever we want.

This is a recurring problem, with people violently policing boundaries that the fandom has all agreed on, to the point of doxxing and harassment and death threats, and ignoring boundaries that they have decided "don't make sense".

Like here's the example I put in the tags earlier, which is Technoblade related. Everyone knows that family dynamic is great and shipping is a no-go, right? But if you actually go looking for the clips, (or listen to streams in the background recursively while you're doing other things), you'll find that what Technoblade said about shipping was that it was "kinda cringe" (I think the list of things he said was cringe included reading percy jackson books and talking like you're better at video games than you actually are), and he was MUCH stronger in saying that he didn't like family dynamic in canon, saying that he didn't like it, that it was non-canon, and he'd never betray his family like that.

But if you look at the entire "found family" tag on Ao3, 19,860 stories, Technoblade is tagged into 29% of them. That's 5,760 fics just blowing right past what Technoblade said. Boom. Taking that character from his political anarchist setting and setting him right down in a royalty au w. younger siblings.

Because obviously a family dynamic isn't actually going to hurt someone's feelings or make them feel weird, the fandom has agreed, so what he must mean was that saying that family dynamic was actual literal canon is the only bad thing (I have been clotheslined by family dynamic written into stuff tagged as "canon compliant" multiple times as well,) and we can continue with the fun family stuff, right? Because someone saying they don't like family dynamic doesn't make Sense, in the way that I like it, the fandom has agreed, so we can just ignore that clip. Honestly I think that a ton of people have no idea that Technoblade ever said anything negative about family dynamic, because that clip is never brought out or talked about. I literally only know about it because I've watched that stream.

Meanwhile, the much less firmly stated boundary when it comes to shipping is absolutely doubled down on and brought out to justify mobbing people off the internet, because everyone already knows that shipping is bad and terrible and tainted and horrible to do and we don't like it, so even the slightest indication that it's out has to be grabbed and used to police people. So that everyone can be very to sure themselves that what they're doing is not weird, and the streamers are okay with it, and if I showed them my fic they'd say they liked it.

They're not going to give the Ok to your fic, because the fic isn't FOR them, and it shouldn't be. It's for the other weird fans who can't stop thinking about the block men characters, it's not for the actors. The actors have their own lives, leave them alone.

To be clear, I am not saying that we should stop writing family dynamic to respect Technoblade's feelings. Among other things, I don't think he's checking his character tag on Ao3 right now. But like, I've talked before about the way that boundaries culture ends up working in practice, and how constantly bringing problems up to streamers just ends up showing them all the things that are the most weird to the streamer. You only have to look at what most of Benchtrio has done in terms of boundaries, which has been transitioning from very explict boundaries with details on everything to just saying "just use your manners," stopping answering questions, and telling people to actually think about what they're showing the streamer instead of expecting someone to weigh in on it for them.

But even when it comes to the boundaries that we do have, that we know about, the way people enforce them seems to be less about actually respecting what the creators like, and more about making sure we're morally pure and never have to see something that we personally don't like, and we don't happen to have any of that nasty boys kissing content in our work, because we all know that's terrible. (And as someone who's seen crackdowns on LGBTQIA content several times, that certainly has unfortunate overtones.)

As long as it's all kept away from the creators, I really think that fluffy cuddly family dynamic and kissing fic and hardcore whump all falls into the category of "not for the creators, they might find that one weird, but you do you". Like keep it away from the streamers, use your brain, but like, it's all a bit weird and for fun. Let it be weird and for fun in a secluded part of the internet, keep it away from the streamers, tag your shit for people who don't want to see it, and go to town.

So just like, I really think that "creator boundaries" should be more about using your brain as to what you show the streamer, and less about harassing someone off the internet cause they drew kissing art.

[bloody-cupcakes]

Can i get a yan!jd (and or Veronica) with a very hesitant reader? Like theyre willing to join in with JD's murders but they extremely doubtful/hesitant with with commiting the act cause they dont want to mess it up?

Sorry if this is too much or not what exactly you want, just shooting my shot here 🐊

No no this is perfect! It's not too much at all, I really enjoyed writing this 🥰 I went with both JD and Veronica because who doesn't love a good murder throuple

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, typical canon related warnings (murder being framed as suicide, several gun mentions, swearing, etc.), the reader is very easily persuaded into helping to commit/cover up a murder, suggestive stuff near the end

"What if we get caught?"

It was the fifth time you'd asked in the past ten minutes, and JD was getting very close to strangling you.

"We won't get caught as long as we stick to the plan," he hissed out in annoyance, trying his best not to snap at you.

"Okay, but what if-"

Veronica cut you off so JD wouldn't pop a blood vessel and give her another suicide to stage, with you as the intended target. "I wrote the note in their exact handwriting, and you already did part of your job by telling Heather Duke that they've 'been acting weird' lately. I'm sure half of Sherwood must know by now, so their death shouldn't come as too big of a surprise."

"Who knew that for once it would come in handy that Heather can't keep her damn mouth shut," JD added with an eyeroll as he counted the bullets in his gun. "It certainly doesn't help their case to have such a big obsession with firearms. And given their track record of firing them all throughout the night, I don't think they'll be missed much."

You slowly nodded your head in understanding despite the look of hesitation in your eyes. "Yeah, but... I just don't want to mess anything up and get you guys into trouble."

It was clear to Veronica that you still seemed a bit apprehensive about everything, so she gave you a reassuring smile and said, "You're not going to mess anything up. If we thought that might happen, we would've left you at home."

"Then you wouldn't get to enjoy the show, and what fun would that be?" JD piped up with a grin as Veronica rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything will be fine." The sincerity of her tone did its job of starting to relax you. She was right, they'd never invite you along if they thought something bad might happen. If there was one thing they could agree on, it was making sure to keep you out of harm's way.

"If you say so, but I still don't understand why they have to die."

"Because they were getting a little too close for comfort in study hall, that's why." JD came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you as his chest pressed against your back. He had his gun in his hand, but you weren't worried. You trusted him not to hurt you. "They were asking inappropriate questions and practically undressing you with their eyes. Only we get to do that."

It was hard to keep your expression neutral due to how flattered you were. Other people might find it to be smothering or unhealthy, but you loved how protective they were over you.

"Okay, you remember the plan, right?" Veronica asked as the three of you approached the intended target's house. "You just go up and knock on the door. They'll let you in-"

"No doubt with the assumption that they'll score," JD butted in with a scowl. Veronica ignored him and chose to continue.

"-and when that happens, I want you to ask them about their firearm collection. Once you get them feeling vulnerable and safe, ask to see one of their guns. Make sure you get close enough to shoot them in the head so it'll look like a believable suicide. Do you remember what their dominant hand is?"

"They're ambidextrous (meaning they use both) so it won't matter which side it's on." You felt proud of yourself for being able to remember such an important piece of information. The time you spent in study hall with them didn't turn out to be completely useless after all.

"Well, aren't you a cute little schemer in the making," JD teased while giving your cheek a playful pinch.

"Shut up," you muttered while giving him a light shove in response. "You guys promise to come in once the gun goes off, right?"

"Of course we do. As soon as we hear it, we'll be inside to help you." Veronica took your hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Good luck," was the last thing she said before her and JD went to go hide while they waited for you to enact your part of the plan.

You put on your most convincing smile as you made your way to the front door, knowing your acting game was going to need to be on point in order for this to work.

Much to your relief and delight, things ended up going a lot smoother than you'd anticipated, and that included the act of murder itself. When JD and Veronica entered the house, you were still holding the gun used to shoot them with, their blood splattered on your face and clothes.

"I did it!" You announced in surprised disbelief, your eyes wide as you stared down at the dead body now lying on the floor. "I did it..."

"You did, good job." Veronica took the gun from you to stage next to the body as JD cupped your face with his hands, completely unbothered by the blood there. "I'm so proud of you, baby. You did it."

A shiver of pleasure went down your spine at his words of praise. "Yeah, I did." You could tell by the way his pupils were blown wide that he was ready to devour you where you stood.

"Hey, I still need your help with this," Veronica's voice interrupted whatever kind of moment you were having, causing JD to let out a groan of disappointment.

"I'll give you your reward once we're done," he murmured lowly, giving you a hungry yet restrained kiss before letting go of you to help Veronica.

You watched the two of them as they set everything up to make it look like a suicide, from the weapon to the note. Despite your earlier worries, everything played out perfectly, just like it was supposed to.

It made you feel excited for any potential outings like this you guys might have in the future.

[butchbarneygumble]

Imagine how I must feel as one of the only fans of Mighty Magiswords. You know. A headcanons-and-fanfic kind of fan. I even cosplayed Prohyas once.

Of course, it's nothing compared to what the actual victims went through... I'm fine. But it still felt like a part of my identity has been permanently soured. I don't want to seem like I somehow have it worse, that's not my intention. Nothing bad happened to me personally. I'm only posting my own side of how I deal with the situation, to get some closure myself and show solidarity with the victims.

I don't admire him anymore, and that's putting it lightly.

Full story under cut. Content warning for non-graphic discussion of csa.

The news came to me from my ex-but-still-friend. He told me privately, out of nowhere, just dropped it on me. Like, "Hey, sorry to tell you, but the guy you like got arrested for csa". However, I am glad he told me rather than me having to find out on my own.

The news hit me, and I felt nothing in my body. I usually would get this painful fight-or-flight all through my body whenever I read something that upset me, something I've been training myself to get better with. But right now? I just felt like... "huh. That happened." It helped a lot that Magiswords wasn't my fixation of the moment. And like... it's been like I've been slipping away from it. Like I didn't need it anymore.

More and more people were talking about him, and it wasn't positive. Who? Kyle.

I talked to him. Personally, like many people did. He never acted weird to me. I admired him. I loved his art, sent him physical fanart, all that stuff. I knew more than one person said he was not trustworthy but hey, he made a show that saved my life, so it was a constant struggle between feeling like I had to pick sides. I was going through hell by virtue of my dad being terminally sick and needing constant care, so I was gonna ignore the red flags and enjoy my silly sword show that brought me such joy.

Even if as time went on it started get harder and harder.

But you know what a certain depressed horse show said? When you're wearing rose coloured glasses, red flags just look like flags.

I now think dodged a bullet.

What emotions do I feel? Betrayal. Anger. Disgust. Disappointment.

The irony about it all. The sheer painful irony of blacklisting somebody for *drawings*, and then going behind everybody's back to actually hoard *actual* csa, and revenge porn, and all sorts of nasty stuff. For the record: there is nothing wrong with being put off or disgusted by specific sorts of drawings. But the irony here is what's most painful to me. I do not like people using this as a "gotcha" for either side of this tired argument. It's disrespectful to the actual victims.

People say I can easily seperate art from the artist if I want to but... right now I don't think I want to. He's in every pore of its identity. I do not want to talk or think about Magiswords right now, and I don't know if I ever will again.

It meant so much to me. Prohyas felt like Me. Being a goofy capable adult who doesn't stop collecting things he likes just cuz he's an adult. I thought I was trans for a while and the euphoria of relating to Prohyas helped that. Then he got lowkey confirmed nonbinary and I was over the moon.

It was good. Emphasis on "was".

And to the man himself I have one thing to say: you're another one in a long history of cartoon artists who end up being unsavoury, slimy people, taking advantage of young people, especially girls, in the animation industry. Not something to be proud of. I know we talked and you seemed perfectly okay to me, personally. All I can think is thank god it never went beyond casual chats.

I guess I can finally say I never liked the joke about Vambre not liking pants. Sure, sensory issues exist, but I doubt that was the intention of the design. I have deleted my sideblog where I chronicled ooc screencaps of the show and deleted my little spotify playlist of songs that reminded me of the show. I don't want to finish my longfic where Prohyas and Flonk fell in love anymore. I can't even change it into ocs because it's just so ingrained in the show's lore. So yeah, there's that.

I'll be fine. When the news hit I took it surprisingly well. I was going to an Alestorm concert and it was the most fun I had in ages. So yeah, I've got Christopher Bowes and His Plate of Beans to fill the void of comedy music. Was fixating on Simpsons already so there's that in terms of cartoons. I'm fine.

All I can say is my heart goes out to all the victims, and I'm deeply sorry I didn't see you sooner. I hope you can heal and have some semblance of closure now that he's gotten arrested. My heart goes out to all of you and again, I am so so sorry. I wish you all the love and healing.

[gavisuntiedboot]

Hey, I love your gavi fics. Could you do one where reader is very confident and flirty, always making him nervous with how straight forward she is. Loves to compliment him and kiss his hand. Maybe even him getting teased my his teammates about it.

sry this is extremely specific 😅

Forward (Gavi x reader)

This was such a cute request omg.

*************************************************

"Good morning Vogue Espana! I'm y/n, and this is Valeria, and today we'll be playing Vogue's 'Bestie Quiz'!"

You looked over at Valeria and gave her a wink, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh. The two of you made up 1/2 of Rumores, a Spanish pop group that rose to popularity through TikTok because of your relatable lyrics and how easily people could connect to the group members. You all had fun and bubbly personalities, still fimlimg vlog-style TikToks despite blowing up. Since you dropped your first album as a group, everyone was eager to get a piece of the next hot thing.

You had been contacted by an agency in Spain to get signed, and all moved into Barcelona within about a month. Since then, it had been borderline mayhem. Award shows, fashion shows, exclusive parties - the works. You were now at Vogue Espana headquarters, preparing for a group cover shoot. The editors had asked you and Valeria to pair up and make some video content, as you both had addictive personalities and bounced off each other really well. Long story short - any time you two filmed together, it got millions of views.

"Alright y/n lets start off with an easy one: what is my Starbucks order?"

You tried to cross your legs, almost falling over in the chair, causing the whole production crew to laugh.

"Ignore me almost dying. She's only asking me this question because she knows it really embarrasses me to my core to order this, especially here in Barcelona! It's a venti iced caramel macchiato, 9 pumps of caramel, extra caramel sauce on the top and bottom. Can you imagine having to say this out loud?"

The set was filled with laughter. They cut the take to get your makeup touched up, which was now melting off under the bright studio lights. You both continued to quiz each other, laughing and bantering playfully. You looked down at the cue cards with the questions, letting out a loud groan at the next question.

"Val this is rigged in your favor. How come I get all the hard questions and you get this? It's literally the easiest possible question?"

"Stop complaining because the producers think I'm cute and want life to be easy for me. Just ask the question."

"Okay okay: Who is my celebrity crush?"

"Oh wow you're right. That's so easy it's borderline cheating. Have you not seen her social media? Of course it's Pablo Gavi."

You leaned over the back of your chair dramatically, fanning your face.

"Ughhhhh Gavi! Have you ever seen a man so fine and so talented and so freaking delicious?"

Everyone in the studio had to hold back their laughter as so not have it be heard in the recording.

“She’s obsessed you guys I don’t even know how to explain.”

“I think obsessed is the wrong word.”

Valeria turned to you and gasped, getting up from her seat and running over to you, wrestling your phone from your hands. She pulled it free, walking up to the camera with it.

“Let me just make sure she has no inappropriate notifications. Not obsessed? Please look at her Lock Screen. It’s literally taking over her life.”

You hid your face in your hands as your screen lit up, revealing a picture of Gavi from the World Cup as your Lock Screen. The camera zoomed in on you, capturing your embarrassed reaction.

“Listen listen listen. I’ve been a Barça fan since forever. He’s fine and talented. How am I supposed to not fall in love with him?? I feel like that’s too much to ask for.”

Your crush on Gavi was not a secret by a long shot. It has been obvious to your audience since the World Cup qualifiers, when you posted a picture of him in the white uniform, captioning the photo “who is this and where can I find him 😍😍”. Your followers had come through, sending his handle in your DMs several thousand times. You followed him on Instagram and started fangirling in the comments of all his posts.

@uruser

“ Great job today Pablo 🥰”

“My favorite color is now pablo- I mean purple 🥵”

“The only heat in Qatar is gonna be you on the field 😘”

One day, as you did your makeup on a livestream, idly talking to your phone, you noticed the chat moving at a much faster pace than you were used to. You looked at the messages, trying to read something, but it moved so fast the letters blurred together.

"Wait wait how do I stop the chat I can't read you're all typing too quickly."

You figured out how to stop the comments flying by your face, reading the words "GAVI FOLLOWED YOU BACK".

You screamed at the top of your lungs. You started jumping in excitement, shaking the floor so much that your phone fell to the floor. Comments continued to fly in about how this was the beginning of your love story.

This was officially your in. Now that he followed you, you were able to swipe up on his Instagram stories. Every couple of days when Gavi would post, you would leave him flirty messages, never thinking he was going to respond.

"Amazing goal Gavi! You know you could score with me any day tho ;)"

This unfortunate cheesy message got a like. When you saw the small scarlet heart, you almost went into cardiac arrest. It was working. Slowly but surely you were getting him to recognize you.

Gavi hated pulling out his phone in the locker room. He would instantly hear wolf whistles and cheers from his teammates.

"Ay, Gavi, who are the messages from? The pop princess or the real princess?"

He would turn bright red, hiding his face in his shirt. He had seen your comments, and he didn't know who you were at first. He approached Pedri one day, asking him if he knew who you were.

"Gavi please be serious. You haven't heard of Rumores? They're opening for Rosalia this summer. They're super talented. And each member is hotter than the next."

"Wait," Balde chimed in, "who from Rumores is sending Gavi messages?"

"y/n"

Balde's eyes widened to the size of satellites. He grabbed the phone and started recording a voice message on the messages between you and Gavi.

"y/n my darling, this is Alejandro. Forget about this idiot Gavi and DM me your number. Let me appreciate you in a way that he cannot."

Gavi grabbed the phone back. The voice note had already sent, and you had opened the message. Shit. He was practically shaking, not knowing what to do.

"Ale! Why would you do that?" He asked, trying to look away from the three dots that indicated you were typing.

"Pablo you idiot. Do you know that she was number 5 in the "World's Hottest Women" ranking? She won best face AND best ass in Spain last year. If she wants a Barca player and you're fumbling, I am willing to step up." Gavi shoved him on the shoulder, eliciting a laugh from Pedri.

"Hermano, talk to her. She has made it more than clear that she likes you."

Gavi looked at his phone again, still confused as to what to say, when a new message popped up on the screen.

"Thanks for the offer Ale, but I'm still holding out hope that Gavi will message me back one of these days ;)"

He smiled and bit his lip, locking eyes with Pedri, who wiggled his eyebrows at Gavi suggestively. He hit the older boy on the shoulder, and they went out to his car. When they arrived at Pedri's, dragged Gavi onto the couch to show him clips of you talking about Gavi.

*y/n being in love with a spicy midfielder for 17 minutes*

"Pedri why do you have this video in your favorites?"

"Be quiet and watch."

The video started playing, and Gavi was stunned when you popped up on the screen. It was a clip of you at an award show, dresses in a gorgeous maroon two-piece that showed your midriff and lower stomach, as well as ornate stomach jewelry.

"y/n you look absolutely gorgeous this evening. We heard you were a Barcelona fan? Is this true? And if so, who is your favorite player?"

You smiled widely, causing Gavi's intestines to twist into pretzels.

"Of course I'm a Barca fan. All hot girls are Barca fans. My favorite player of all time is Messi, but on the current squad? Pablo Gavi. He's so talented and not to mention gorgeous."

Gavi brought a cushion to his chest and hugged it tightly. He was used to people calling him attractive in comments, but it was different seeing it live, hearing it from someone who the whole world thought was gorgeous. The next clip was a TikTok, in which you and Valeria danced in matching Gavi and Pedri jerseys.

"See Pablito, she already has your shirt for when she comes to the games to support you."

That comment earned Pedri a swift smack, which he was unable to dodge. Gavi continued to watch the rest of the video, borderline kicking his feet at how fuzzy he felt hearing that you thought he was hot and talented.

"Thanks for watching the Bestie Quiz! Make sure to like the video and subscribe to Vogue Espana. Bye!"

The camera switched off, and you and Valeria stepped off the chairs you were sat in. You immediately got onto Instagram live to pub the video.

"Hey everyone! We just got done filming for Vogue Espana's YouTube channel! Make sure to tune in when the video comes out. And... tomorrow we'll be touring a certain football stadium. Make sure you're following us here and on TikTok to stay up to date with all the latest from us!"

Gavi's jaw dropped. Of course he tuned into the live. He was eager to hear the sound of your voice, see your face lit up with joy. He had been thinking about you for weeks now, unable to say anything to you from embarrassment. He didn't know how to be charismatic and suave and the man that the internet portrayed him to be. He was a dork. He didn't know how talk to you. So when he heard that you were visiting a football camp, he texted the groupchat.

[Gavi]: Is that girl group coming to Camp Nou tomorrow?

[Pedri]: ah ah ah no one respond. Gavi, go ask your admirer. A good way to start a conversation.

[Ansu]: ^^^

[Alejandro]: retweet

He rolled his eyes. They were right. It was the perfect opportunity to reach out to you. But he was still nervous - what if he didn't live up to your expectations?

He typed out a simple message and hit send with his eyes closed.

@pablogavi - are you coming to el campo tomorrow?

"Valeria, remember how you told me that he would never talk to me because I was 'creepy' and a 'weirdo'? Well, eAT YOUR WORDS HE JUST MESSAGED ME!"

You flopped onto the couch, kicking your feet like a lovesick teenager.

@uruser - if I am, will you give me a special tour? xx

@pablogavi - i'll try

The next day you were positively giddy with joy. You were going to get a private tour of Camp Nou with your three closest friends. And you were going to be breathing the same air as Pablo Gavi. This was your chance to shoot your shot. You put on a black tank top and some light wash jeans that enhanced your award-winning ass. You turned on a livestream so people could watch you and Valeria do your makeup, playing Meg Thee Stallion as you got ready. You started dancing, twerking a little bit in the mirror.

"She's practicing for later when she sees Gavi."

You slap Valeria on the arm, the chat exploding at the idea. You ended the live shortly after, getting in your car to be driven over.

Gavi was a nervous wreck. He had changed his shoes three times, wondering which pair of Dunks would impress you the most. Gel or natural hair? Should he wear his classic long sleeve or just the jersey? Pedri's honking was disturbing the whole neighborhood. He ran downstairs (he picked the gray dunks), getting in Pedri's car as fast as possible.

"If Alejandro get to her first, you only have yourself to blame."

Gavi laughed lightly, but he felt like he was going to be sick.

You and the girls arrived to Camp Nou at 10am, eager to take a tour. You were greeted by several members of staff, including Sara, who worked the team's social media. She would be following you all throughout the day to get clips for the official Instagram and Twitter accounts. You walked into the office, greeted first by Xavi. You were all super excited to be in the presence of the coach and World Cup winner. He spoke with you about the history of the club, then lead you through the facilities to the locker room, where you would be meeting the players. Your group members walked in ahead of you as you grabbed a selfie with Xavi.

Gavi would never admit it, but he stood on his tiptoes to try and catch a glimpse of you. He was in jeans and a jersey, ditching the long sleeve since he wouldn't be hurting his arms (not because he saw a video of you saying that you were in love with his arms. That could never be the reason). You walk in and it was like someone had lit his veins on fire. He was so overwhelmed by your gentle laugh and your bright smile. Your eyes scanned the players and landed on Gavi, biting your lip and winking at him. He looked to the floor, hiding the satisfied look on his face from the cameras recording. You greeted all the players, and after getting past Ferran and Alejandro, you got to Gavi. He put one sweaty hand out for you to shake.

"Nice to finally meet you, Gavi. You're even better looking in person."

You shook his hand and pulled him in, giving him a kiss on each cheek. Typical for Spain, but not something you had done for the other players.

"I as well also think meeting you is good." Gavi stammered out, making absolutely no sense. You smiled at him, causing his heart to race faster. Your hand lingered on his for a moment before you moved on to Pedri.

"You're going to make a really bad impression on Xavi if you break our young talent in the middle of the season." He said to you, causing you to pull away and laugh, pretending you didn't have the faintest idea what he was talking about. At the end of the greetings, the team members pulled out the shirts that had been prepared for all of you. Sara pulled out yours and handed it to Gavi, knowing keeping you together would produce the best trending content. Fan service pays the bills. He unfolded the shirt and saw your name at the top, and under...

"Number 6?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow at you. You looked at him from your seat, patting the spot next to you. He reluctantly sat down, and held up the shirt for the photo. You placed your hand over his for the photo, and he felt like he was 12 again experiencing his first crush. When the photographers looked down to make sure the shot was clear, you leaned into Gavi's ear.

"I wanted to wear your new number. I hope it can bring you some good luck."

"You... you want me to have g-good luck?"

"Of course Pablo. When you do well you're happier, and then I'm happier."

Gavi was going to explode. What kind of woman were you? Who was this forward about their feelings? He took a deep breath and composed himself. The girls were all taking sneaky pictures, wanting to capture the moment that you and Gavi first fell in love (because they knew that you would never let him out of your sights now). His teammates were snickering, in awe of how the firecracker that they had come to love was now a pile of mush, blushing like a schoolgirl and stuttering over his words.

"Alright, we're going to film some challenges in pairs now. The rest of the team will get their pairs. Gavi and y/n, you're going to come film with me." Sara said, walking quickly outside the locker room, expecting you both to follow. Gavi got up quickly and gestured towards the door.

"Um, after you."

"Wow, you're such a gentleman." You said, giving him a gentle squeeze on the bicep before you followed Sara. What was he supposed to do now?

You walked outside into the stands and both took your seats, handed personal mics to attach to your shirts. You clipped yours on in about a minute, having done this numerous times for different shoots. Gavi, on the other hand, was struggling slightly.

"Do you want some help, Gavi? Of course that would require me to touch your chest."

He looked up at you, wire still tangled. "You're going to touch my chest?"

"Only if you want me to gorgeous." You replied with a wink. He didn't trust himself to make words, so he nodded instead. You gently grabbed the wire, threading it through his shirt, fingers lightly brushing against the toned muscle of his chest. You clipped it at the top, smoothing his shirt when you were finished.

"All done. Now we need to test them out with a sentence to make sure the staff can hear. I'll go first. Test sentence: Gavi is adorable and I'm going to ask him out before I leave today."

"You're going to do what?!" He said, eyes widened, sweat glands activated.

"It's just a gibberish test sentence. Your turn."

"Um, hello?"

"It needs to be longer than that." You said, getting comfortable in your seat.

"I don't know what to say." He said, smiling shyly and looking down.

"Try whatever comes to your mind Gavi. Literally anything."

"Okay. Ehem test sentence: I'm really nervous around y/n so I hope I don't make a fool of myself in this video."

Your cheeks heated up but you looked away, trying to play it cool. You loved that you were making him a little bit flustered, but he was gaining some confidence to respond. The camera crew stated that you were rolling, and you looked at the camera.

"Hello everyone! I'm y/n and I'm here today with Gavi, and we're going to be playing Barca's 7-second challenge!"

"Ah, my brain is too slow for this game." Gavi said, tossing is head back. The staff handed you the envelopes, and you began.

"Alright I'm going to be asking first. Name three Barca players that contributed to a goal against Real Madrid."

"Ah easy. Leo Messi, Luis Suarez, and me." He said, winking at the camera.

"Good job. You would have been my first answer." You responded. Your rizz game was insane today. You wanted to make an impression- who knows if you would ever have a chance again?

It was Gavi's turn. He opened the envelope and read the question.

"Ah this is too easy. Who are 3 Barca players that have worn the number 6?"

You smirked at the camera. "Super easy. Denis Suarez, Xavi, and the best looking in number 6, Gavi." You said, winking at him. He smiled widely, turning away from you.

"Ah lalala don't let Mister Xavi hear you say that."

After you finished filming the game, the sun had moved from the middle of the sky, making the field more pleasant. The staff informed you that the final piece of content you would be filming would be Gavi showing you how to play football. Gavi was excited. Finally something he could excel at (and maybe embarrass you for once). You both got onto the field, and you laced up the football boots you had been given by the staff. From your position on the ground you looked up.

"Should I keep one untied so I can play as well as you?"

"I- I think you should keep them tied. I'm used to falling, but I don't want you to get injured."

"Awe how cute Pablo you don't want me to break my face." You said, getting up from your spot on the ground and pinching his cheek. It was quite warm to the touch.

Once the cameras were rolling, he taught you some basics, and then he decided to show off. He started playing keep-up with the ball, moving from hit feet to his thighs to his head and shoulders. He passes the ball to you, and you tried to receive with your chest, forgetting about the extra tissue there. You bent over in pain and he came up to you, checking on you.

"Don't worry I'm fine. But if you ask nicely I'll let you kiss it better." He stood frozen with his hands on your shoulders.

"I, I, I- do you want to do something else?"

"No no, it's hot watching you play."

Gavi was at his end. He was embarrassed beyond belief. He could not believe how forward you were, and he could not believe how much he liked it. He felt special - wanted. He brought you to the front of the box, deciding to end the day by teaching you to shoot a penalty. He helped position you, and you two spent the next ten minutes making shots at the goal and joking with one another. At the end, the crew came and collected your mics, and you waiting for the other girls and players to join you.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Here, can you sign my jersey?"

You handed him the pen, turning around and lifting your hair out of the way. He bent over slightly, uncapping the pen with his teeth.

"Who should I make it out to?" He asked.

"Make it out to your future wife. Or future long-term girlfriend if you don't believe in the institution of marriage." You felt the pen meet your back, smiling to yourself.

"I have never met a girl that was as forward as you. It's a little intimidating."

You turn to him, taking your pen and sticking it into your back pocket.

"I know I've said this a million times on every platform, but I think you're cute and interesting. I'm not going to be shy about that. If I make you uncomfortable though I'll stop."

"No no. That wasn't a complaint, but I was wondering...."

"Yes, dear husband?"

"Were you serious about asking me out?"

"My God Gavi. I have made it so painfully obvious that I'm had over heels for you. I have to ask you out as well?"

"You make me shy! I can't even begin to think of where I could take you on a date. I'm just going to let you stay in the driver's seat and I'll keep being a little stupid."

"What're you going to do when I come to one of your matches? Blush and giggle in midfield?"

"You're going to come to a match? The we have to go out before then. Let me get the awkwardness out over dinner so when I'm on the field, you'll be the one blushing and swooning."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: this is so long omg :') thank you so much to whoever requested this. It was really fun to write a super confident character. I hope this is what anon was looking for, and I'm so sorry if not. I hope y'all enjoy this one, and please leave any feedback in the comments/ send them in my asks!

[inanisomnia]

chishiya shuntaro headcanons. [chishiya x fem!reader]

idk if i'm late to post anything related to chishiya but nevertheless i'm still going to post this bc i wanna write something abt him because i need more content abt him sgakhs this man is taking over my life /sobs

anyway, here are some hcs !! i've been ia here on tumblr so pls bear with me ^^ if u enjoyed reading this kindly reblog it (?) if that's okay with u, it means a lot ilysm <;33

reqs are open <;33

oh and also this is my first time writing an hc tot

++ this might be connected to the drabble i plan to write/post

genre : fluff ?? gurl idek anymore

warning/s: none ?? not proofread kind of ungrammatical??-3#! sorry for that tot

chishiya meeting you (?)

chishiya shuntaro believes himself to be an apathetic human being - void shell of a human being. he does things and that's about it - until one night, at the beach, he saw you.

under the faint gleam of the celestial stars and crescent moon, amidst the crowds of people dancing their remaining lives away, dizzying lights that lit the dancefloor, there you are.

wearing a black puff sleeve bikini top paired with high waisted midnight-colored laced shorts - your hair gracefully danced along your swift movements as you danced and laughed with your new found friends in the borderland.

you caught his attention.

this doesn't really happen to him, but something about you was so enticing he can't even seem to look at anything else - until kuina taps his shoulder to talk about something.

after that night, he can't seem to shake you out of his head and best believe me that he's the most in denial person you'll ever know.

he'll convince himself with the silliest reasons like he might have just been hungry, or dizzy from the games, or maybe, sleepy. anything but acknowledge that he admires you.

you see, he might be an intelligent individual, academically and street smart, but there are times that he can't think straight when it comes to you.

most nights he subconsciously looks for you on the ocean of the crowds arriving after the games. he's aware that you're cunning, and physically strong to protect yourself, but there's this gnawing feeling whenever he can't spot you among the hundreds of people at the gate.

he'll never make the first move. never. unless of course you talk to him first which you did, one time because how could you ever ignore this pretty man and introduced yourself.

he can feel his heart hammer into his chest as you walk towards him but he'll never show it.

you offered your hands for him to shake as you ask for his name (of course you already know it, since he is one of the known executives at the beach. but you still shoot your shot.)

he's not the type to shake your hand if you introduce yourself, but he acknowledges your presence in his own way.

conflicted with the feelings he's experiencing but he doesn't like to overthink things so he just goes along with it.

until he can't. until he wants all of you – until he wants to know everything about you, to protect you.

as your boyfriend:

i really feel like he's not really into pda. he would want to keep your relationship in secret. there may have been lots of people in the borderlands who despise him and he's actually afraid that they will use you to get back at him.

he doesn't want that. he doesn't want you to get hurt at all. after settling his feelings that he does love you, genuinely, he swore to himself that he'll protect you.

(i've read this here before and i'll put it here but y'all are so right dgahshs) his love language is quality time. and physical touch.

at midnights, he'll sneak into your room and literally just play board games or just talk about everything.

he doesn't let others touch his hair nor his face but if its you, hell, that's more than fine.

he loves your warm touch, your tenderness as you braid or play with his hair, rambling about things you love and hate.

he's a great listener. he'll stare at you with full adoration in his eyes and slight smile.

he's fucking grateful for your existence. you're his solace in this hell you're both caught up wjth.

gurl he loves cuddles especially after a tough game, he craves your skin, your smile, your laugh, everything.

the first time you both kissed was you doing it impulsively because you got so happy on what he gave you (its up to your imagination to what it is gsajgd) and you're both caught off guard.

there was an awkward silence and a plethora of apologies, but he just smiled and cupped your face and kissed you tenderly.

everything seemed to melt away. it felt as if the borderland turned into a hazy cloud 9.

when you can't sleep, he'll play with your hair, both bodies entangled under the sheets, a wholesome intimacy between souls trying to survive this hell.

he's the type to kiss your scars and lull you to sleep.

sgakuss basically chishiya being head over heels in love with every bits of you - your flaws, your moles, your dimples, every little detail about you, he's here for it.

he doesn't realize it yet, but you did change the way he perceives himself.

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #04 the fall of the empire.

synopsis: over the past ten years you've fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it's clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc's

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex's, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

𐦍 word count: 1.9k

masterlist ▸ 003. two robots fell in love. ▸ 04.5 plan b?

Throwing your phone onto your couch, you let out the biggest sigh your body could manage to put out.

How did things manage to get so out of hand so quickly?

First Joshua and now Minnie, maybe karma really had it out for you this time.

In need of a distraction you started cleaning your apartment, scrubbing off any scuffs and dirt that accumulated from your past. It was something you wished you could do in your personal life, just scrub out all of the bad shit and only move forward.

After spending hours cleaning out the grout from the shower and throwing away old memories from your past in fear that they'd come back to haunt you, a knock came on the front door.

You almost pretended to not hear it, just hoping that whoever decided to show their face to you would just save themselves and walk away, but the knocking persisted.

"Look, I don't really feel like- Oh my god, Seokmin."

His puppy dog eyes stared at you as a greeting and his long arms held a basket full of your favorite things, homemade lemonade, popcorn, cherry sour straws, and even a small stuffed animal.

"Sorry, I tried to text you but you hadn't replied and I got worried. I can just drop this off and let you be alone."

"No, please stay. Thank you for coming over, I just didn't feel like answering my phone anymore."

"Have people been talking about the twitter?"

"Yeah, I got about a thousand text messages from everyone, none that I've opened. Joshua, Jeonghan, Mingyu.. I mean it's fucking insane."

"Well, we can both ignore our phones and watch some rom-coms? I even brought a bag full of mini alcohol bottles and stuff to bake brownies."

Seokmin sniffed the air as he removed his coat and sneakers, stepping into your apartment.

"Stress cleaning?"

"Yeah, I just felt like washing away bad energy."

"Don't worry, I showered before I came."

"Shut up."

Seokmin took it upon himself to pre-heat your oven and get started mixing the ingredients for the chocolate mixture. Trying to find a way to ask you about how you felt, but not wanting to pry.

"Look, we can talk about it, Seok. It's okay."

"No, I just feel bad. I mean everything you wrote is private, you're not entitled to have anyone know your dirty secrets and it's just not fair."

"That's exactly what, Minghao texted me. I think I'm over trying to find out who did it, like maybe if I don't add fuel to the fire and act like it doesn't bother me. I can forget about it. It can't get much worse than it already is."

"Don't let Minnie bother you, y/n. She's just upset, it'll blow over."

"I guess."

Passing time with Seokmin felt like exactly what you needed, he was able to take your mind off of anything negative that was going on, part of his basket you didn't see were the set of matching pajamas with both of your favorite Sanrio characters embroidered on the front. He told you he was saving them for a special day, but today was the perfect time to bring them.

Now with warm brownies made and Seokmin's famous lemonade you sit cuddled on your couch, watching the intro to 10 things I hate about you plastered on the big LED screen.

Your phone buzzed on the table, waking you from being zoned out. a name flashed on the screen, one that wasn't a threat to how happy you've felt the past few hours, Minghao.

"Seok, is it okay that I invited someone?"

"Oh, who is it?"

"Well, Minghao texted me and wanted to hangout. I don't feel like I should shut him out just because of what happened."

"Are you going to tell him to call his dogs off?"

"Yeah, I think I will at least for now."

"Minghao's always been nice, he'll understand."

"I hope so."

After another half hour of watching Kat fall in love with Patrick on your screen and singing along with Seokmin to the movie soundtrack a knock came from your front door.

Unwrapping yourself from the warmth of your friend, you crawled off the couch wrapped in a blanket and ran to answer it.

"I thought I told you not to wear something nice?"

Minghao was dressed in a cozy pair of cargo sweats and a big hoodie, carrying a larger than normal leather tote bag.

"Well, I wasn't about to show up in my boxers. I like your pajamas though."

"Thank you, Seokmin brought them for me. We got matching ones, sort of silly I know. You may laugh."

"No, they look cute. I brought you guys some snacks and wine as a sorry for intruding."

Seokmin's loud voice cheered from your couch.

"Wow, Minghao. If someone doesn't snatch you up soon I might have to. Hi, by the way."

Minghao took your previous spot on the couch, next to Seokmin getting him with a cute handshake.

"How is everything guys?"

"Well, good now. Y/N had sort of a rough morning."

"Yeah, I saw the posts. Did something happen?"

"Well, Minnie freaked out on me of course and I told her to move out. So, I had just been cleaning before Seok came and rescued me."

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. It happens I guess."

Seokmin forced Minghao to let you sit in between the middle of them after noticing you searching around the room for the best place to sit.

"Come on, loser."

Your butt found its perfect missing piece sitting between two of your friends both new and old.

"Should we watch Twilight? Minghao's never seen them."

"You've never seen Twilight? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Minghao's eyes opened wider than you had ever seen them, probably embarrassed that the two of you made this little moment about him.

"Stop acting like that's the weirdest thing ever? You guys are crazy."

"Oh my god, you're going to love this Hao."

Seokmin queued up the movie, watching the title sequence splash across the screen as you watched Minghao experience the blue toned film for the first time, catching glimpses at him at all of your favorite parts.

After the movie ended Seokmin was sleeping up against your side, cutely snoring. You tried to subtly remove yourself from him without scaring the daylights out of the by, you woke him up, Minghao was already up and next to your side helping you move the sleeping puppy into your bedroom, so he could get a good nights sleep.

"Thank you."

"I should, get going."

"Oh no, stay here. You can either stay on the couch or you can take Minnie's room, I changed the sheets already."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I'll probably stay up for a while, I have some shit to take care of."

"Are you sure, I'm not intruding?"

"No, shut up. It's late and raining stay here."

"Okay, I'll stay wherever. Thank you."

"No please, stay in the extra room. It's more comfy."

"I think you should, the couch is nice and warm anyway. I like the fireplace."

With a nod you grabbed Minghao a few pillows and an extra toothbrush and snuck away to the room that used to belong to Minnie, packing away her stuff as a final gesture to someone you used to call your best friend.

Minghao, walked through the closed doorway to find you sitting on your wooden floor, tears drying up on your cheeks, looking at photos of your friends.

He placed the two glasses of red wine, beside you and bent to sit criss cross adjacent to you.

"Sorry I woke you up."

"No, you didn't actually. I was just reading on my phone, I usually go to bed pretty late."

"Oh, okay. This is pathetic isn't it?"

"What? Being upset? No, it isn't."

"No, just me, crying over this. I mean I made most of this mess in the first place and here I am crying over people I hurt no matter how badly they hurt me before. I mean, seeing Mingyu and Minnie hanging out, Joshua and Mimi, I just like am making myself a victim when I'm also to blame."

"Y/n, you are a victim in this too. It maybe doesn't feel like it, but just because you hurt someone doesn't mean they get to hurt you back."

"I guess."

"Does Minnie and Mingyu being alone together bug you?"

"No, she's right as much as I hate to admit it. It can't bother me they're friends too, I guess I just didn't see that coming.

Minghao pics up a polaroid photo of you and Joshua wearing matching college sweatshirts, dated September 15.

"Was this your first day of classes?"

Your laugh came after a couple of sniffles, admiring the smiling pair in the photos.

"Yeah, our mom's were best friends growing up and naturally so were we. We got accepted into the same university, so our first day they took far too many pictures of us. I wonder why Minnie has it?"

"Maybe, by mistake?"

"Yeah, maybe. I normally keep all my pictures in a box under my bed."

Something in your gut was telling you that Minnie having that picture of you in her room wasn't by mistake, but you chose to shove it down continuing your trip down memory lane with Minghao.

"Oh my god."

Minghao held up a picture of you, you were standing with Minnie at a halloween party outside with drinks in hand, dressed up as sexy bottles of ketchup and mustard.

"No, that's so embarrassing throw it away."

You tried to grab the picture out of Minghao's grip as he was sprawled across the floor giggling over you dressed up with a red cone on your head.

"I didn't think Ketchup could be so sexy, y/n."

"Shut up, that's awful. I don't even remember that. I look so stupid."

"No you look nice, actually very original for the sexy girl costume trope."

"Ha- Ha, very funny."

Minghao handed you your glass of wine, laughter now dying out as you sat in silence surrounded by polaroids of your past.

"Can I tell you something, y/n?"

"Yeah, always."

"Well, I found out where the first tweet was posted from, not me actually, Wonwoo. It came from your wifi network, so whoever posted it was in your apartment that first night."

A pit came to your gut, the same apartment you were in now, the walls suddenly looked darker and you decided on chugging the alcohol in front of you.

"Do you know anything else?"

"No, just that the network assigned was yours."

"Can we maybe, stop sleuthing just for awhile? I don't know what to do anymore. I'm really thankful you guys wanted to help me, I just, I get a feeling there's more to this that I don't know or even want to find out right now."

Minghao just shook his head, holding up the bottle of wine asking you if you needed more, which of course you obliged.

"Want to watch something with me?"

"More twilight?"

"No, not more twilight. Seokmin wouldn't be happy to miss that. Maybe, Princess Diaries?"

"I love that movie."

"Me too, come on."

You crawled into the bed, tapping the covers asking him to sit next to you.

"Turn the light off, come on I don't bite."

"Can I confess something embarrassing? I used to think the brother in this movie was someone from the Beatles."

"Oh my god, me too. And that the mom from the parent trap was Princess Diana."

Minghao laughed, reliving a part of his childhood climbing into the bed next to you, afraid to get too close.

You on the other hand were as comfortable as ever, cuddling under the covers, clutching a pillow in your lap watching Anne Hathaway on screen.

By the time Mia was getting her makeover Minghao and you were sleeping peacefully side by side.

✧.* taglist: @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl @kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, @porridgesblog, @punkhazardlaw, @jasssy051,

[mountmortar]

hi, i saw your post about different socials/sites and i'm curious to ask what your experience on mastodon has been like? i've been interested in checking it out but it's hard to know what kind of "instance" i should join in that case, or generally what the culture/etiquette there is like!

OKAY. so! your experience on mastodon will be heavily influenced by the instance you join—it might be best to shop around for instances that fit your interests! for example, i use mastodon primarily to get tech news/web news that nobody else on the web seems to talk about, so i joined the tech.lgbt instance. as such, when i log on there, i definitely see shitposts and things from the younger members of the instance (early 20s) but even the shitposts tend to relate to tech things a lot of the time. it's pretty much a lot of tech talk. some instances let you view what other people on the instance are saying before you join—you'll see the the option for "live feeds" on the right side (if you're on a computer), for example! mastodon.social, the most generic and popular instance (249k active users as of right now), has this option. obviously, if you join a generic instance like this, you'll see a lot of EVERYTHING. an instance for fandom is blorbo.social, a popular one for anime/manga content is sakurajima.moe, which i've also linked the live feed to! you can find a metric fuckton of instances to search through here!

i've been part of three instances—mastodon.social (generic), mas.to (also generic) and tech.lgbt (topic-oriented). being part of the generic instances ultimately gives you the most general social media experience, and you'll probably find yourself ignoring your local server feed (the other people who are in the same instance) and curating your experience via people you follow the same way you would on here! being part of a nicher, topic-specific instance may provide you with more entertainment right off the bat based solely on the fact that you are already connected with people who are also interested in things you like.

(ultimately, it's just like picking an email provider—yahoo, gmail, aol, etc.—that allows you to communicate with people with both the same email provider or with different email providers! it's just that it also comes with a community page of people who use the same email provider as you, if that makes sense at all. just find one you like, read the rules, and you're good to go!)

using mastodon is a LOT like using twitter, if you're familiar with it—it has its own lingo, of course (toot instead of tweet, for example), but the layout of the site/app is pretty twitter clone-ish. the difference is that while twitter is, in recent times.........Conservative/Right-Leaning As Hell, mastodon is so liberal/left-leaning that i've seen people describe it as TOO liberal/left-leaning, lmao. if you join a niche instance and venture outside of it, prepare to see a lot of political posts. interaction between users is encouraged, though because it IS filled with a lot of techy people no matter what instance you join, prepare to see the occasional techbro every now and then. it's easy to avoid them, though.

a Very Big Thing about mastodon—the circles i'm in, at least—is that alt text on images is a MUST. if you've never done alt text on images before, be prepared to learn or whatever you post WILL be ignored to hell and back because some people will straight up refuse to interact if you post an image with no alt text. it's also important to note that some instances of mastodon have moderation problems, which you might find being discussed by users on there a lot.

ultimately, i'd say my experience on mastodon has been positive—i've followed some genuinely interesting people on there (a lot of university professors and people in the workforce—i've learned more about SpaceX satellite waste in the last few months because of an astronomy professor i followed than i ever would've had i not joined!). if you don't feel like eternally searching for an instance you like, there's nothing wrong with just joining a generic, "catch-all" instance and then just seeking out people to follow. just make sure to read and follow the rules of an instance (which usually amounts to "be friendly" "no hate speech" and whatnot—depends on the instance, but it's all the same) and you'll be fine no matter how you talk or interact. you might find some instances that prefer you to use tone tags and some whose userbase has never even heard of tone tags—there's a lot of different "holes in the ground", so to speak!

(i will say—despite me linking a couple of fandom instances above, there really isn't much of a fandom presence on mastodon as of right now. not that i've seen, at least. you'll find a lot more people talking about their real-world interests (tech, gardening, marine biology, knitting, whatever) than you will someone going nuts over a fictional character. so if you're super into fandom, or super into a NICHE fandom, you may find yourself a bit lonely over there if you don't have a group of friends to migrate with you. if you don't mind that, then it works out! )

i hope this helped a bit! ^.^

EDIT: FORGOT TO MENTION. CONTENT WARNINGS ARE A BIG THING OVER THERE. you can hide your post behind a sort of "spoiler" type warning (like discord basically) and a lot of instances require you to content warn for certain content (gore, food, etc.) it's a VERY big thing.

[eldritch-nightmare]

the rules.

— > by default, considering the nature of this blog, there will more than likely be dark content such as yandere behavior, kidnapping, toxic behavior and relationships, and things like that. if that makes you uncomfortable, then this blog probably isn’t for you. 

— > you're free to send smut requests but i don't write it often bc it's not something i'm personally interested in. do not send non-con requests or anything in relation to incest. i’m okay with kinks but certain ones make me uncomfortable so if you request one of those, i most likely won’t write it. 

— > as of feb of 2024, im only just starting to write for slashers and dbd so bear w me as i get used to writing all these new characters!!

— > please send yandere requests to @unearthly-doting, please and thank you.

— > do not rush me into writing requests! i am a human being and i write on three separate platforms so it may take a bit for me to get around to your request.

— > i reserve the right to ignore and delete any requests sent in if they make me uncomfortable.

— > this blog is a safe space! if you are homophobic, transphobic, racist, sexist, ableist, etc then i highly implore that you leave my blog. you are not welcome here.

— > you can request platonic stuff if you don’t want to read anything romantic!

— > given the potential nsfw content of this blog, coupled with other factors, i would prefer if minors didn’t interact with any nsfw posts. they're free to interact with this blog and any of my other posts so long as it's not nsfw.

— > be as descriptive in your request as you want! if you request an x reader, then please make sure to send in the pronouns of the reader or i will default and make them gn. 

— > i also write for the marble hornets character! i do not write for the creepypasta adaptation of masky or hoodie; i only write for tim and brian.

— > i write for just about any and all creepypastas, excluding pokepastas and offenderman. i will not write ben or sally in romantic scenarios. platonic is fully fine, but if you request something romantic for them then i will delete your request.

— > continuing on, i write both janes. and finally, if a character has a canon sexuality [jane richardson; lesbian. jessica locke; lesbian. jay merrick; gay] then i will only accept requests that are nblw/wlw or nblm/mlm for them. this also applies to amanda young and susie from legion.

— > you can request for ships, i don’t mind!

— >  i do not have DID, CIPA, or tourette’s syndrome. i will do my best to accurately portray all of this in my writing, but if my portrayal is incorrect or offensive then please do not hesitate to let me know!

— > i haven’t been in the [creepypasta] fandom in years so my knowledge may be a bit outdated and i more than likely don’t know any new creepypastas or anything like that so like… feel free to educate me or something if you want. i love learning new things. 

— > my inbox is always open if you want to chat or share your thoughts about certain characters! but please refrain from venting in my inbox.

— > i do try my best to be realistic with my writing but sometimes a girl just has to be a little delulu y'know, and that’s okay. i’m embracing that. 

WHAT I WRITE.

— > creepypasta/slasher/dbd x reader. [request ex: can i request eyeless jack w a male!reader who has trouble sleeping?]

— > creepypasta x creepypasta. [request ex: can i request ticcihomicidal going on a cute little cemetery date?]

— > headcanons.

— > matchups. [i.e: you describe yourself to me, physical appearance or personality or both, and i assign you with a creepypasta or mh character that i personally think would look cute with you.] [indefinitely closed bc people keep sending them in even when i ask them to stop lol]

WHO I WRITE.

creepypasta/mh: — > slenderman, jeff the killer, jane the killer [richardson + arkensaw], nina the killer [og], homicidal liu [and sully, together or separately], the bloody painter, nurse ann, eyeless jack, laughing jack, hobo heart, ticci toby, clockwork, jason the toymaker, the puppeteer, zalgo, x-vrius, tim wright, brian thomas, alex kralie, jay merrick, jessica locke, uh. others. like i said, i write for like any and all, these are just a few off the top of my head.

slashers: — > amanda young, michael myers, bo sinclair, vincent sinclair, lester sinclair, bubba sawyer, thomas hewitt, jason voorhees, sissy [tcmg], johnny [tcmg], brahms heelshire, billy loomis, stu macher, tiffany valentine, billy lenz, charles lee ray, asa emory, jesse cromeans, xenomorphs, baby firefly, otis driftwood, mary mason, candyman, mark hoffman, leslie vernon, pinhead, corey cunningham, quinn bailey, ethan landry, and probably more once i watch more movies nd stuff :thumbs up:

dead by daylight: — > every killer minus freddy and every survivor.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi! Hope you’re doing well. 23 year old, female INTJ here. I’m here to ask about my 8 year old brother. Actually, since there are ages between us, i sometimes feel like his mom. I take care of him mostly. We get along well. I know this would be early but i guess he uses ti or ne function. I’m not so sure.

The question is, when it comes to something slightly emotional, he’s acting weird. For example when he’s fall down and hurt his leg, i’m normally trying to ask if he’s okay ( kinda emotional way ) he starts yelling, screaming, or he says “You’re gonna make me cry!” in a real aggressive way. And stays away. Is it something normal? I’m afraid of if somebody would harm him he wouldn’t tell us. How should i approach to him? What should i do ? Should i just stay away?

He also hides many things. Normally, he is over critical, he is tend to see his teachers old headed, strict, even stupid unfortunatelly. But one day he came from school, it was obvious that he cried. Of course he didn’t told us what happened then i asked his teacher. He said, he argued with me, and we talked nothing else happened. If that’s the case that means he cried on the toilet or school bus all alone or something else happened and thinking about this makes me too sad or even angry.

To be honest, i want to know about his life, i want him to be clear and honest with us. Knowing he hides things sometimes makes me think we wouldn’t know if something really bad happens to him. Am i overrracting?

Thank you and take care.

----------------------

I don't think you're overreacting. It's normal to feel protective of the people you love. This is especially the case for children because they aren't always equipped with all the psychological tools that are needed for handling life's problems or coping with stressful events.

Unfortunately, there isn't enough information for me to draw a firm conclusion about what's really going on with him, so I can only do some educated guessing and you'll have to investigate further.

(1) If you believe that Ti dom is quite possible, then it could be related to inferior Fe. Having an inferior F function generally tends to make a person very wary of emotional intensity. Fe also tends to be easily affected (in some cases "infected") by the emotions of others.

Using the hurt leg example, hurting oneself is already a very emotionally painful experience. When other people step in with all their fussing, worrying, and concern, what it actually does is increase the emotional temperature of the situation dramatically. Have you ever noticed that sometimes when toddlers fall down they are perfectly fine and then the parent comes fussing and only then the crying begins? We can say that the toddler was infected by the parent's anxiety.

Imagine that a person's capacity to contain emotions is like a coffee cup. Some people have a big and tall coffee cup that can hold a lot of emotion, while others have a teeny tiny espresso cup that easily overfills. People with poorly developed Fe and/or inferior Fe usually have a smaller sized cup.

Ti doms appear to be calm and cool most of the time but it's not because they are unaffected, rather, it's because they're good at ignoring or deflecting emotional content. However, there are situations in life when emotional content comes too quickly or too unexpectedly to be ignored, and then you will quickly see Ti doms start acting uncharacteristically pitiful.

The good news is that, once emotions pass and Ti is restored, they can easily get on with life. Ti doms are generally independent and self-sufficient from a young age. Although, note that ISTPs tend to be more resilient than INTPs due to Se vs Si differences. INTPs tend to dwell in negativity more. If you see dwelling happening, then you can give a little nudge or a push to open up about the problem, but don't push too hard or else you might get the opposite effect.

Being the elder sister, your authority is more limited than a parent. You can only push so hard before you get pushback and a "you're not my mom". It might be better for you to approach him as though you'd like to be his friend or confidant rather than an authority figure trying to get him to talk. If you are genuinely worried for his health or safety, then it should be the parents doing the pushing.

Unfortunately, inferior Fe also makes people wary of opening up about their feelings, so you might have more success by focusing primarily on the facts of what happened and help make logical sense of them, rather than try to soothe him emotionally. Save the worry or outrage and simply be a practical problem solver.

I'm reminded of my sister-in-law. Every time her boys (one of them is 8) get emotional about something, she continues to speak to them as though they're being perfectly calm and reasonable, because she is a very calm and reasonable person. (Meanwhile, I'm right in there with the kids expressing their feelings with them.) If the kids whine about being bored, she'll calmly say "Well, that's not my problem, so what are you going to do about it?" Or, if the kids tell her about some offensive thing they saw (and I'm just about to express my outrage), she'll say, "Hmm, what should we do about that?" It's quite hilarious to watch the kids instantly stop wailing and put their thinking caps on.

What can we learn from her? Not every bad thing that happens has to take us on an emotional roller coaster. And not everyone has to spend hours processing every little feeling and emotion they experience. She stops the crazy emotional ride by asking simple questions that get the kids (and me) to focus on the problem in the most practical terms. When someone is averse to confronting feelings and emotions head on, it might be a good idea to simply hop over the feelings and focus on investigation and problem solving.

(2) Being male, there's a good chance that he has been socialized to believe emotionality is a sign of weakness or embarrassment that he needs to be on constant guard against, in order to be "a real man". If that's the case, he might be more comfortable opening up to a man.

Certain elements of human experience are gendered and only a person of the same gender can fully understand and relate. For a man, opening up to a woman can feel threatening if he believes it will lead him directly onto the path he's trying to escape (e.g. softness or vulnerability). Oftentimes, men prefer or find it more effective to process their feelings/emotions physically rather than verbally. For example, if he seems tense, you could take him out for an enjoyable physical activity to blow off steam.

I'm not saying this is good or healthy or whatever; I'm merely describing facts. I'm certainly against gender stereotyping and I believe everybody has the capacity to learn how to verbalize their feelings and emotions. However, for a young boy dealing with strong peer or social pressures in a masculine environment, he might not be psychologically ready to learn the kind of emotional maturity that you want him to display.

What can you do? Provide encouragement but don't try to force. If he's Ti dom, it's important to speak to him in a matter-of-fact way, with as little drama or fuss as possible. Just make it very clear that you're always willing to help or listen (without judgment) if there's anything bothering him. Let him know that he doesn't always have to deal with problems alone and that it's okay to ask for help.

Sometimes it seems you speak and they don't listen, but kids always hear you, even when they don't respond the way you'd like. They are individuals and they have their own way of processing information that might be different from your way, but it doesn't mean they haven't quietly taken your words to heart. If you are able to maintain a close long-term relationship with a kid, your voice will be in their head, guiding them all the time. Therefore, it is your job to always say what you mean and mean what you say, and provide relatable and feasible advice.

Even though you're technically not the mom, you're still going to experience a lot of the feelings that moms get when you take on a caregiver role for a kid. As a parent, you basically never stop worrying about kids, and your instinct is to protect them from hurt. But you can't control everything in the world, so it is inevitable that kids get hurt on occasion.

Part of being a good parent is creating a stable, accepting, and trusting environment that allows kids to open up about their hurt, but also trusts kids to exercise their own intelligence in problem solving. Tell him that you trust him to handle small problems independently, but if he ever encounters a big problem, then it's smarter to get some help and tackle it faster together. However, this assumes that he believes you are capable of helping...

[mrs-monaghan]

i know you aren’t a hater and you’ll probably not post it but I wish you will so I can feel seen because I am bursting with so many emotions and no one in my real life would get it. if it’s true that tae is dating that girl, i’mma let hate paralyse my mind. I swear there’s no coming back from this. I mean y’all telling me jimin being hated, slut shamed, defamed, threatened and sabotaged was all for nothing. I’m trying hard to ignore both jk and tae in this mess but y’all are telling they sat there and let your so called friend be dragged for years. There’s no way bighit don’t know about this.

This isn’t even about jikook because deep down I know it’s jimin over anyone else. I will cry for real so I’m hoping it’s not true. After all the mess jimin has gone through, the least taekook should have done is to at least kiss so as to justify all these hate. I know this is a jikook blog but I follow you because I’m curious about him and I am ready to support him in anything. But truly I am sad. I always thought if any of vminkook announce their relationship I will be relieved because jm will be free but today I realize that it’s the opposite. I am angry, I am sad and I feel so hurt on behalf of jimin. All those dc inside, YouTube hate video, death threats, report for jm. I’m going to sort out my feelings for taekook because deep down I don’t hate them… never😭😭

Anon. It's hard to be a PJM in 2023 so I understand. Trust me, I get it. I love this man an unhealthy amount. I see why you're getting affected by the Jimin hate. But here is the thing that I need u to think about before you take the anti route.

Here are the most recent Vmin hugs we have.

This was not part of the choreo

I mean look at Jimin's face

And the very most recent ot7 content. Again look at this hug. Look at V's face.

What I'm I saying? I think these motherfuckers love each other. That's what I think. I think V loves Jimin and Jimin loves V. Do I think they are as close as they used to be? No. But do they still love eo? Absolutely.

3 things 1) An anon made a point that I've been thinking about. The Tannies probably don't see what happens on I-twitter. They probably have their twitter curated and only shows what Karmy are saying. And Karmy are not the ones hating on Jimin. So for all we know V might be missing all this fuckery. I really don't see him seeing the pigmin and bangmin stuff and him being okay with that.

2) Jimin is no push over. Never has been. If V was being a dick to him or if Jimin had issues with V, he would have cut him out of his life. I honestly believe that.

3) Jeon Jungkook would never in a million years hurt Jimin on purpose or let someone else hurt Jimin. Ever. Like that's a thing that will never fucking happen. It doesn't matter who it is. This man defends Jimin even when his man doesn't need defending. Jimin can handle himself but when JK sees some fuckery going on he steps up. So aint no way he would be hanging out with V if the dude was being malicious.

I let u guys vent here and I hear and understand where you're coming from but my stand has always remained the same. As long as Jimin and Jungkook continue to love V, so will I. Clearly there is alot we don't know.

From the outside looking in, it looks bad but I really do think they're fine. If Jimin had an issue with what V was doing, not only would he shut it down, but so would JK.

I'll give you an example. JK came live and V told him to go to insta. A very awkward live happened but that's neither here nor there. What also happened was that live made noise even in the Karmy side. So this is what happened.

Tkk live ---- Jimin comes live for the shortest live he had ever done at that time. And he was busy. But for some reason he still stopped by. It seemed like it could have waited till he finished work---- V shares a Jikook photo for Jhope's birthday.

I think these 3 things are related. I think someone wasn't happy about the tkk live and that was V making it up to him.

I, think if Jimin has an issue he lets it known and handles it.

Jimin is not weak, anon. Jimin is quite strong. Stronger than people give him credit for. I guarantee if V was an issue he would have handled him by now. For all we know the dumpling incident got physical and u know Jimin won that fight.

So, its important to pause. Breathe. Its okay. Everything is okay. I'm about to say something extremely blunt now. Anon, it helps no one when u get affected mentally by Jimin hate. He doesn't know u and he will never hear about it if something happens to you. He and his millions will be perfectly fine. You gotta look after yourself first. Alright?

Love Shazy,