#that's most of what i have for now that surrounds guidelines

[the-feral-one]

Peseta sat at thier desk looking over what they had wrote for what they guessed would be the last time. They let out a sigh as they readied themselves, before turning on the device's camera.

--

I wanna put out some guidelines for the Wo and Oki wedding event!

The event is most likely gonna be from the 2nd of December to the 1st of January, with the wedding ceremony itself being done at around the middle of the month(either the 16th or the 17th).

I'm planning an art collab for that part of the event too.

The tag for the event is 'WokiWedding'.

Dont worry about your characters showing up after it starts. As long as they wear something purple, it's all good.

Interactions and RPs are encouraged! It is a party, after all!

Even though it is a festival in Kitakami, neither masks or human forms are required.

--

"...and the last one is to keep things civil. Any hostility shall be seen to and handled by Wo."

They squinted as they looked a little closer to the screen.

"Oh, and to have fun too. That's a big requirement, I should think!"

They sat back and looked relieved. After a few seconds, they pushed their chair back and stood.

"We all hope to see you there! Now, if anyone wants a last-minute invite, I shall bug Chester as I go to get my wedding attire."

--

Another thing to add is that for those joining the event to go easy on me, as this is gonna be my first time hosting one!

[leeechin]

(ꗃ) dangling charms [nerd sunghoon] ! (mdni)

⋆ in which you test the limits of the cute quiet dork that sat nearby you and your friend during lunch. but what you didn't expect, was to see a whole new side of this quiet dork, in his bed.

⌗ warnings & content: college au! sunghoon and jay are such losers in this oh my god. but i love it. nerd!sunghoon x fem!reader, backshots hehehe, protected sex (cheering) bigdick!hoon, oral (m.rec), fingering, praise, dom!hoon, etc. a lot of kaomojis when reader texts hoon, deal with it lol. early 2010s kind of au as well.

(lee's note: on that nerd sunghoon agenda :p i skimmed through this, not throughly proofread so lmk if you see any errors :D hope u guys enjoy i'm nerv abt this one.) reqs r open don't be afraid !! just read my guidelines first :3

word count: 3.0k

★ masterlist | post queue

"i love you y/n, but i don't think it is genuinely possible to even get him within the same vicinity of you that is not on campus.." gaeul comments, taking a sip of her drink.

you sigh in response, not bothering to hide the fact that you're eyeing park sunghoon, the cute quiet nerd you sat a couple seats away in your econ class. also, a couple tables away where you and gaeul were sitting at in the campus' dining hall. "what if i just asked him to tutor me—? it would benefit me and get me close to him."

"do you realize how crazy you sound right now?!" gaeul chokes, voice a little too loud causing the surrounding tables by the two of you to give a look.

"then i'm insane because i'm gonna ask him to tutor me right now—!" you exclaim, grabbing a piece of gum from the pack that was on the table, unwrapping the foil and popping it into your mouth. gaeul hypes you up, giving you a small applause in which you both giggle.

approaching his table, you felt a nervous tinge in your chest, choosing to ignore that feeling, you strut with confidence, stopping until you're standing directly in front of sunghoon. he looks up with an eyebrow raised, shutting off his laptop that he was doing an assignment on. "can i help you—?" loud smacks of you chewing the gum obnoxiously filled the awkward silence between the two of you, but you smile at him. "park sunghoon right?"

he nods, face still filled with confusion as to why such a pretty girl is at the table he occupied by himself on most days. "you have the best marks in our econ class.. and i was wondering if you could help me revise this paper i failed in that class.." you sheepishly asked, hand scratching the side of your head as you await a response.

"sure i can." sunghoon's response is short and quick, tapping his ipod that was connected with his wired headphones on his lap, waiting for you to say something. "great—! you should write your contact information for me down!" you beam. pulling out of your arm bag a mini notepad and pen, handing it to sunghoon. he takes a quick look at the character charm that dangled on a beaded string on your pen, laughing to himself in his head at how cute and amusing you were. carefully examining what he wrote before handing it back to you, sunghoon gives a small smile in return as well.

you thank sunghoon and practically skip back to your table, gaeul looking in shock as you hold up the once empty page of your notepad, filled with his contact info.

sunghoon's enjoying a peaceful dinner with his roommate when he hears a ding! from his phone. "this is the first time i've ever heard your phone during dinner." jongseong comments, stuffing his mouth full of instant ramen. "it's probably a scam or—" sunghoon remembers you asking him to tutor you. he scrambles to grab his phone, flipping it open to read your message.

"surely a scammer alright." jongseong sarcastically retorts. "shut up jay!" sunghoon yells flustered, reading the strings of messages you left to him.

(xxx) (xxx) (xxxx):

heyyyy :p it's y/n :3

turned out the deadline professor jung gave me to revise this paper in a few days (¬_¬)

soooo i was wondering if we could meet up in a couple hours ^_^ or we could do tmr cuz it’s a weekend and ur probably free ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

—

you weren't wrong.. but ouch that kinda gave sunghoon a realization that he really doesn't do anything besides studying 24/7 and being a dork with jongseong.

"no way.. you're texting a girl—!" jongseong gapes, peeking over sunghoon shoulder's to read his inbox.

"god we really are such womanless losers." sunghoon shakes his head, clicking his keyboard to respond to you.

—

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) your pov ⋆ ࣪.

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Hello Y/n

Yes. I could meet with you in a couple of hours

Your place or mine?

[you]

my roommates have company over (-.-;)y-~~~

is ur place okay ?? :D

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Yeah, that's fine with me

My roommate is home too, but don't worry, Jongseong is very quiet

My address is: ________ 8:00 just to confirm with you.

[you]

yayyyyy ok (^｡^) c u in a couple !

thx hoonie once again !! i rlly owe u 4 this (*´∀｀*)

—

you're kicking your feet up and down after confirming your plans with sunghoon, flipping your phone shut. you call for gaeul outside of the hall to tell her the news and to help you pick a outfit.. hopefully not overdoing it.

touching up your lipgloss and twirling yourself in front of your mirror to finalize your look, you're more than ready.

"don't get him too flustered y/n.. he's probably never felt the touch of a woman." gaeul warns, handing you your keys. oh how gaeul was so wrong about sunghoon..

you knock on sunghoon's door, swinging open to meet eyes with his roommate, jongseong. he stares at you in disbelief not thinking that the plans in sunghoon's inbox would actually happen. "hi! i'm y/n, is sunghoon here—?"

"no fucking way." jongseong comments, completely ignoring your question. his eyes are opened wide like saucers and all you could do it at the door step is fiddle with the bottom hem of your short pink skirt and wait.

"is she already here jay— oh. hello y/n." sunghoon sees you up close, once again. he kind of already knew you were on the way when he heard the dangling charms on your arm bag down the hall as you took your steps closer to his front door. and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to you. "hi hoonie—!" you smile over at the door frame, looking over jongseong's shoulder. god that new nickname made him want to drop at his knees.

"s—sorry! i should've let you in since i've opened the door—!" jongseong stutters. you throw your manicured hand out, brushing it off. "oh it's okay jay. do you guys have any drinks—? not alcoholic or anything." you self invite yourself to open their fridge that was in the kitchen right by their entry. "um y/n." sunghoon mumbles, "hmm—?"

"please take off your shoes.." right. feeling slightly embarrassed, you say a quick apology and kick off your shoes, leaving them on the shoe mat. "don't worry about it." sunghoon reassured. walking back into the kitchen, you examine their fridge, wow. they really had a lot of choices, and a lot of food from packaged from the local convenience store. but enough of that, you settle with a strawberry milk cart and shut the fridge door.

"sooooo where are we gonna study—?" you turn to sunghoon, sipping your drink and awaiting a response. "in my room.. jay is playing a very important match of star craft in the the living room." sheepishly rubbing his head and gesturing to jay sitting on the couch, that had his eyes glued to the tv monitor as he started the game.

"okay-!" you say, following sunghoon into his room. you notice the lack of decorations, only a couple of figurines on his shelves, mainly filled with textbooks. "you sure do have a lot of dangling charms." sunghoon comments, scanning your arm bag and your phone charm.

"is it a problem—?" your eyebrows raises, eyes following sunghoon direction to your bag. "no no no! not at all, it was just an observation—!" quick to deny with no doubt.

you grin, only seeing how long it would until sunghoon gives in to your charm.

"so for this problem you can—" you interrupt sunghoon, "can we take a break?" he blinks in response, "sorry hoon i interrupted you—" "don't worry y/n. and yeah, we can take a break." your lips stretch into a little grin, getting up from where you and sunghoon were both sitting on the end of his bed, littered with papers and textbooks.

you go to his desk where you left your bag, bending over to grab a a container of green grapes. you purposely take a long time searching your bag and giving sunghoon the view of a lifetime; your mini skirt showing your little lace panties that hugged your chubby folds. sunghoon bits his lips to suppress a groan, feeling his erection growing.

sunghoon grabs a pillow to place over his lap, in hopes of his bulge would go down. you smirk to yourself, knowing that sunghoon has had more than enough time to see what was under your miniskirt. "want a grape hoonie—?" you offer, plopping yourself beside sunghoon on the end of his bed again. sunghoon nods his head.

holding out your container for him, sunghoon grabs a small handful of grapes, the both of you guys eating in silence. and you don't know what possessed you, but after the container was emptied, you lifted the pillow that was on his lap. and there behold; his boner.

he scrambles to grab the pillow again, but you grab at his wrist with your smaller hand. god did you just the veins and how thick his digits were. "y/n i'm sorry i—" sunghoon panics to find a choice of words, lucky for him, you interrupt. "you're rock hard hoonie.. because of me?"

"mmph. fuck. yeah." sunghoon groans, seeing you climb over his lap and straddle him. "let me take care of your little problem down there for you hoonie.." you offer.

"oh my god hoonie—! right there!" you moan, body perched against his bigger frame as he's stuffed two fingers deep in your sopping cunt, your panties being hooked to the side. "clenching around my fingers so tight, fuck. i knew this was planned from the start." he grunts in response, scissoring and twisting his digits.

it was so messy. you were a crying, sobbing, mess from the pleasure of sunghoon's digits hitting you so deep, reaching places you could never with your measly little hands. and never did you expect this from sunghoon..

you expected sunghoon to be a nervous, stuttering mess, but instead he was calm and collected, the one that was in control and power of letting you cum.

sunghoon's free hand was under your low-cut baby tee, grasping at your juicy tits that spilled out of your bra, taking his hand out from underneath your shirt and tugging it off and over your head, effortlessly unhooking your bra alongside it. fat tears rolling down your cheeks, smudging your eye makeup as you feel sunghoon speed the pace of his fingers, making you see stars and have you completely ruined at his mercy. breath hitching when you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap.

"just hold it out a bit longer for me, okay—?" he coos at you, tucking the strands of hair that draped over your eyes behind your ears. "hoonie please! s' so good." you babble, hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. you stretched it out so much that his collarbone showed.

a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead when sunghoon grants you permission to let go, spongy walls spasming around his digits as you crash forward and land your face against his chest. "that's it. did so well for me." sunghoon hums in satisfaction, licking your sweet release off his fingers and rubbing the side of your hips affectionately, pulling your panties back in place. you frown at sunghoon, hoping he wasn't done.

"i still haven't taken care of your problem down there.."

shuffling off his lap on the bed, you scramble and drop down to your knees; heels of your feet hitting against the plush skin of your ass. eyes looking up to sunghoon, awaiting. "shiiit, you're so pretty." he groans, seating himself up and off the edge of his bed.

looking down at you with your begging eyes that were inviting him to ruin you. and boy were you going to have such a story for gaeul when you get back home. "hoonie.. fuck my mouth?" you ask, hand reaching down to rub at your neglected clit. and who was he to refuse you, especially when you said please. pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers, sunghoon is much much bigger than what you initially expected.

"oh…" your jaw almost dropping, but you contain yourself to just gulping nervously. "not big enough for you—?" he teases, hand coming down to grasp his length and pump himself as he waits for you put your mouth on him. "no.. you're too fucking big hoon. you're gonna destroy me." you rasp out, watching him take his hand off himself and replacing it with your own, making sunghoon hiss at the contact. he chuckles at your response, "we'll make it fit, don't worry— fuck—!" he moans, breath hitching when you try to take as much of his inches into your mouth, choking at about halfway. you look up, pleading for him to help you out. and so he did. hand grabbing at a chunk of your hair to create a makeshift ponytail and push his hips forward with a few experimental thrusts.

you didn't show him any signs of stopping, so sunghoon continued. he lets out a long groan feeling his tip his the back of your throat, along with the sensations of your harsh sucks. you moan around his thickness at the slight of his thick framed glasses fogging up with his heavy pants. your hands that were placed on on his thighs tapping twice to let you breathe in which he immediately pulled off of you. sunghoon holds his hand out for you grab and pull you up, wiping the saliva that was dribbling down the sides of your lips. "okay—?"

"s' okay." you giggled reassuringly, sunghoon smiles and places a kiss on your lips, and you could taste yourself from your previous orgasm from earlier against him. "think you can handle more..?" sunghoon asks with an eyebrow raised. "yeah. i want you to fuck me." you shrug, pushing him backwards so that he sat on his bed, initiating that you were gonna ride him, but no no no.

sunghoon manhandles you until your flat on your stomach. flipping your already hiked skirt up, not making much of a difference, kneading at the soft flesh of your pantie clad ass as you arch your back, wiggling yourself back at him for more. "so wet for me jesus." he grunts, pulling your now ruined paired down and over your ankles, tossing it somewhere in his room. he pulls his own shirt over his head and you oogle at his toned body, sunghoon laughs at your expression.

"only for you hoon. please. wanna feel your big dick inside me pleasepleaseplease." you beg, pushing your ass back to him in hopes he wouldn't make you wait any longer. sunghoon didn't, you look over your shoulder to see him reach over his nightstand to grab a condom, taking it out of the wrapper and placing it over him, giving a few experimental tugs before aligning the tip with your entrance. breath ragging as you feel him push in slowly, sunghoon groans alongside with your heavy breaths, the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

if this was what heaven was like, sunghoon wouldn’t ever want to leave that place.

pulling out until only his tip was left in you and plunging forward again, sunghoon finds a pace that has you screaming his name like your life depended on it. "ngh—! hoonie harder—!" you shriek, making sunghoon remember that jongseong was still in the apartment and could probably hear what the two of you have been doing. pushing your head into his pillows, he grunts, speeding up the pace of his thrusts that made pleasure seep throughout your whole body.

"god y/n. your pussy feels so fucking good." sunghoon whispers, the room filling with nothing but the slapping sounds of his hips clashing against your ass. you moan into the pillow sheets, gripping his length like a vice and sunghoon wonders if he could ever feel you around him one day without a condom in the way. his hands grip your hips so hard that you know would leave a mark.

"gonna cum hoon. i need to cum hoonie please." you whimper as you lift your head up from his pillows, sunghoon groans again, his deep strokes hitting every right spot in your body. "let go for me y/n." he says, your body gives out, your whole upper half crashing against the soft material of his mattress as you coat his condom covered dick in your creamy white substance. sunghoon stills his movements, finishing inside the condom before pulling out. taking it off of him and twisting it before tossing it in the mini trash can by his bed.

putting his boxers back on and laying himself beside you. pulling you into an embrace as he put his tshirt over your body. the room is no longer filled with a sexual atmosphere, a piercing silence filling the air.

"we didn't fully revise your paper.." sunghoon speaks up, your head resting against his panting chest. you let out a loud laugh, playfully swatting at his shoulder, "god hoon! you just fucked the living life out of me and your already all books and brains again!" "sorry sorry." he chuckles.

"mm it's okay we can revise it tomorrow." you murmur. "after you let me take you out on a date—?" you nod and place a kiss on his lips in agreement.

"you know sunghoon.. i really didn't expect you'd have it in you.." you whisper, eyes half lidded. "what? you thought i was a whimpering virgin who's never felt the touch of a woman—?"

"that's exactly what i thought."

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Terrible at Surprises | Suga

- Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

- Requested by: requested by anon

- Synopsis: Reader wants to try and surprise Yoongi for his birthday.

- Prompt: 15 from my blogs 1st birthday celebration requests - "You’ve been acting weird all day.” 

- Warnings: none

- Word Count: 830

- Requests: open

Yoongi Masterlist | BTS Masterlist | Requesting Guidelines | Taglist Sign-Up

Having just dropped something off to Taehyung, Y/N walks to her next destination as if she’s on autopilot, oblivious to her surroundings as she looks through the bag of stuff she just brought, double checking that she did get everything she needed. She’s taken this route100s of times before. It’s not until she almost walks into Yoongi that she comes back to reality. 

“What’s in the bag?” he inquires, making her jump in surprise.  

She shifts her gaze between him and the bag a few times, then quickly remembers what’s inside and hides it behind her back. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replies a bit too quickly. His eyebrow arches and a curious sparkle appears in his eyes. “It’s just... um, lady products. You know, that time of the month,” she adds, trying to sound convincing while her cheeks become hot with embarrassment.  

Now Yoongi’s suspicion deepens. They’ve been together long enough for him to know she has another two weeks before her cycle starts again. As he thinks about it, she’s been acting a little all day. 

It started this morning when he woke up to the breakfast, she always makes him for his birthday but instead of her being there, there was a note next to the seaweed soup she made telling him she’ll seem later. And then when he messaged her, she hearted the message but didn’t reply or answer the phone when he tried to call her during his breaks. She’d been radio silent all day. 

“Lady products?” he echoes, skepticism lacing his tone. “Really? You’re not due for another two weeks, Y/N,” he reminds her, fully aware of her monthly timeline. “You’re planning something,” he says, it all beginning to make sense. She’s notoriously bad at keeping secrets, and when she wants to hide something, she tends to avoid him entirely. "You’ve been acting weird all day.”   

Her eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, he thinks he sees a flicker of panic cross her face before she quickly masks it with a forced smile. “What? No! I... Ya! Why can’t you let me surprise you?” she says dropping the facade, feeling slightly annoyed with herself. Yoongi being the most observant person that she knows, she should have known he'd figure it out. "I thought I would surprise you with dinner tonight," she finally confesses. Because of Yoongi's love for cooking, she often lets him do most the cooking but tonight she wants to surprise him with a home-cooked meal for his birthday. "I even got you a cake and some gifts." 

His heart swells at her thoughtfulness, and his earlier anxiety begins to fade into relief. “You don’t have to go to all this trouble for me,” he tells her, causing her to look at him offend for suggesting what she had planned is a burden to her. 

“Of course I do! It’s your birthday, Yoongi! You deserve to be celebrated, and I would be a terrible girlfriend if I didn’t do something for it,” she insists, her voice firm yet playful, as if daring him to argue. 

“Okay,” he concedes, raising his hands in mock surrender, a loving smile on his face. “I’m surprised you managed to keep it a secret for this long. You know how bad you are at hiding things,” he chuckles, recalling the countless times she had let slip surprises or gifts before the actual occasion.  

“Don’t I know it,” she sighs in relief that she no longer has to try and avoid him. “From now on I’m just going to tell you, straight up, no hiding anything anymore.”  

“And no more avoiding me,” he adds with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

She nods in agreement and apologizes, feeling guilty for leaving before he woke up and not replying to his messages or answering his calls. It pained her to do it. "I'm sorry." 

"I'll forgive you," he playfully teases, "but I want a kiss before I have to go back to work first." 

She raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “A kiss? And then you'll forgive me?” 

“Just one kiss,” he insists, his tone light. “And maybe a promise that you won’t disappear on me like you did today again.” 

She steps closer to him, closing the distance between them. “I promise not to do it again,” she says, her voice teasing as she leans in. Their lips meet in a soft, lingering kiss that sends a warmth through them both. 

"I love you," he whispers as the part from each other. 

"I love you too," she replies. 

“I should get back to work,” he tells her. “I’ll see you and my surprise at home later," he places a quick kiss on her lips and starts making his way back to his studio.  

"Yoongi!" She calls to him as he reaches the elevators. He turns to look at her expectantly. Beaming from ear to ear, makes finger hearts at her boyfriend. "Happy Birthday, Jagiya" 

Taglist Sign-Up

@carattinymoa - @forever-atiny - @choppedballoondetective - @rainyday-daydreamer - @reiofsuns2001

@alexxavicry - @hollxe1 - @http-gyu - @astuteataraxy - @wobblewobble822

@amarawayne - @rafesbunniebby - @carattinymoakpopficrecs - @kpopdramaficrecs

@nochelunaxx - @baechugff - @jaymiwrld - @tatumrileyslover - @reiaclub

[love-byers]

alright. i'm taking it upon myself to put something to rest.

there is a new mlvn argument on the market, and i have to say, it is the absolute most BACKWARDS, IDIOTIC, WILFULLY IGNORANT take i have ever seen from them. and it is so easily disprovable that i need to make a post about it and put it in the ground early on.

if you've been around since s4 vol1 era, then you've seen the evolution of their arguments surrounding the monologue. first it was "mlvn was love at first sight, because mike said so". they were all posting the clip from s1 ep 1 of mike finding el in the woods, clips from all throughout s1, and saying "this mike was in love with el!!" because mike said so. in the monologue. when bylers pointed out that this claim from mike directly contrasts his behavior in s1, we were called delusional and told we were just coping. i was even told by someone on reddit that mike wasn't acting like he loved her because he was afraid of being made fun of by dustin and lucas, which deserves it's own separate post, but anyways...

after what finn said at the paris con, aka this:

bylers obviously took this as a win, because it very obviously completely dismisses the idea that mike was being truthful in the monologue. because of this, mlvn's argument has shifted. now, they are claiming that what mike said in the monologue, "I knew right then and there in that moment that I loved you." was not a lie, but HYPERBOLE.

here's just a few examples of this.

holy fuck. where do i even start with this...

i guess let me start by saying that i am an english major. i am a creative writing student. english language arts has always been my forte. it's been my best subject my entire life. i was the kid people went to for help in ELA (english language arts). i was the one tutoring my friends. i was the one explaining things to them. in college my friends would line up to get my help with their english work. i edited and revised their essays. i spent close to 10 hours a week in english classes discussing literary devices and analyzing different stories, which i excelled at.

i am not trying to 'flex', i am simply providing context as to why i believe my opinion on this is worth something. mlvns try to say being a writing/film student means nothing in this argument, but it really really fucking does. i, and countless others in the byler fandom, are LITERALLY more educated in this sort of thing than those who did not spend thousands of dollars to study it. sure we may not be renowned writers with masters degrees, but who do you think we learned from?? our professors, who ARE renowned writers with masters degrees. its no different than trusting the opinion of a biology major when talking about biology. of course ELA is more subjective and free, but when you actually study it you find that its more concrete than you'd think. there are definitions, there are guidelines, there are rights and wrongs. of course you do not have to obey those rules, but in the world of publishing and analysis there are things that make sense, and things that don't make sense.

for example. you can totally write a story where a character says "i knew right then and there in that moment that i loved you" and add whatever explanation or nuance that you want. you can write that with the intention of the character being truthful, but maybe exaggerating a bit. whatever you please. you have the creative freedom to do that whether it makes sense or not.

what you cannot do is claim that that phrase is a hyperbole in that context, or any context, because that is OBJECTIVELY wrong. that is incorrect and inarguable. there are phrases that could potentially be debated between those educated in ELA on whether or not it could be considered a hyperbole, but that would requite the phrase to have ambiguous wording. the phrase in question does not check those boxes. it is not ambiguous in any way shape or form. it's not hyperbole. it's not even hyperbolic in any way.

here's a link to an article with 50 different examples of hyperboles. i promise you that our quote in question will not be there, and that nothing on that list will be remotely similar to it.

"I knew right then and there in that moment that I loved you."

i mean you are genuinely a fucking doofus if you're genuinely trying to claim this is a hyperbole. i need you to be so fucking for real. mike is referring back to a specific moment, remember? maybe you don't because i know y'all don't even watch the show, so let me refresh your memory:

"But the truth is, El...I don't know how to live without you. I feel like my life started that day we found you in the woods. You were wearing that yellow Benny's Burgers shirt, and it was so big it almost swallowed you whole. I knew right then and there in that moment that i loved you. And I have loved you every day since."

el even has a flashback to that exact moment in the scene right after he says it, and right before he says "I knew right then and there etc..."

he literally starts it off with "The truth is"

not meant to be taken literally.

would it make sense to say "The truth is, I'm so tired I could sleep for a century." or "The truth is, I'm so hungry I could eat a horse." or "The truth is, I'm dying of laughter."

NO! IT WOULDNT!

mike's monologue was written/approved by the duffers. the same duffers who graduated from a very prestigious film school and created the biggest tv show in the world. they know what a fucking hyperbole is and that you don't preface one with "the truth is". it is genuinely ridiculous to suggest that they let that stay in a scene where a character is supposed to be finally revealing the truth to both another character and the audience.

let's circle back to those screenshots of dumbass mlvns cosplaying as ELA students

"i fell in love with you instantly" vs "i fell in love with you mere days after we met . ur arguing semantics when the point is that they fell for each other really fast"

please tell me, in WHAT fucking world does someone say "I knew right then and there [in the first moment I saw you] that I loved you" when trying to explain that they really fell in love a few days later. and in WHAT UNIVERSE would a WRITER choose to have their character, who is supposed to finally be telling the unfiltered truth, say that. the answer is, there isn't one. that is so fucking backwards and idiotic that i can't believe i'm even having to explain why. the monologue is fabricated. it was written and approved by professional writers and directors. if mike fell in love with el at some later point in s1, or realized it at some later point in s1, then he could've just fucking said that. he could've just told her the moment he fell for her or the moment he realized. they didn't have to make it all twisted and confusing for no reason. he has absolutely no reason to lie or exaggerate (if he is straight and in love with her).

DING A LING A LING A LING!!!!! THATS A BELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"this feels like taking mikes words too literally"

oh, my apologies for taking his words literally during a fucking CONFESSION OF LOVE that he gave her while she was DYING. sorry for taking a line prefaced by "The truth is" literally. you are totally right and i will never do that again!

"when looking back on it it probably does feel like he loved her from the start"

cute sentiment, but that's literally NOT WHAT HE SAID. for the millionth time (see how i just used a hyperbole in a place where it makes sense? where i didn't preface it by saying it was the unfiltered truth?) he said "I knew right then and there in that moment that I loved you." he is saying he saw el in the woods in the rain in her yellow benny's burgers shirt, and KNEW he loved her. he realized it in that moment. that is what he wants el to believe. he is using specific language to pin point the moment he realized it on that moment. like im so serious when i say that if you try to say anything else you genuinely have worms for brains.

any way you logically look at this, it is crushing for mlvn. even if it was a hyperbole, which it is NOT, why the hell would the writers have him exaggerate his feelings to cater to her when it would be much more meaningful for his ACTUAL feelings to save her life?? why would mike feel like he needed to exaggerate?? and i'm sorry, i dont buy the heat of the moment bs. mike has nearly lost el multiple times because he kept lying to her. they had a bad fight days earlier because mike wouldn't tell her the truth. so he finally gets another chance to tell her the truth, and he EXAGGERATES?? HE TELLS A WHITE LIE??? that would also be crushing for mlvn. but none of that matters, because it's not a hyperbole, it's a lie. a flat out lie.

let be me clear, that does not make mike a bad person. in fact, it actually makes him an incredible, caring, selfless person. (remember the synopsis for s4 ep9? "With selfless hearts and a clash of metal, heroes fight from every corner of the battle field to save Hawkins ---and the world itself.") he lied because he knows he doesn't love el the way she wants and he feels like his actual love for her (which is platonic) would not be enough to save her. he devalues his own feelings because they are not what el wants. this is why he nodded after will said "It's scary to open up like that, to say how you really feel. Especially to people you care about the most. Because...what if they don't like the truth?" he feels like he owes el the love she wants, and he is willing to lie to her if it means saving her life. because he truly does love her and care about her, so much that he will do whatever it takes to not lose her.

and i know a lot of mlvn's devalue literary/media analysis and english/creative writing, and our opinions in general, so in case all that wasn't enough, i also asked mlvn's old friend about this. their friend being AI.

mlvns, everything with a lick of sense, including artificial intelligence, is proving you wrong. you are incorrect. what finn said at the paris con put the nail in your ships coffin and you know it. so please stop embarrassing yourselves on the internet and making dumbass claims like this when you know nothing about the subject. you look stupid.

this rant isnt just coming from a place of byler truther anger, it's english major anger. LEAVE MY SUBJECT ALONE. PLEASE.

[simplygojo]

Your Brother's Best Friend ⸺ Gojo

author's note ⸺ Hi all! I apologize for being offline for the holidday season, wanted to spend lots of time iwth my fam and give myself a big mental break from the online world haha..so I hope you guys enjoy this draft I have, someone requested this like bak on october but I can't find the request so if it was you LMK <3 pairing ⸺ Satoru Gojo x reader concept ⸺ You are Nanami's younger sister, because of that, the insufferably annoying and constantly present-Satoru Gojo-has always been a constant in your life. content ⸺ just some coming of age fluff, childhood crush, soulmates fr, don't forget gojo is insufferable, ur a bit insufferable too but ily, lmk if anyone wants a prt2, mt fuji reference bc I'm planning a Japan trip rn, reader uses female pronouns

materlist || request guidelines || commissions

Satoru Gojo had always found himself intrigued by you. Being Nanami’s younger sister—only by a year, but a fact Gojo never let go—meant you were often around during their shared days at Jujutsu High. 

It had been impossible not to notice you, with your sharp wit and the way you matched Nanami’s sternness with a warmth and energy he seemed to lack.

Back then, Gojo’s fascination with you manifested in childish antics: hiding your books just to watch you search for them in exasperation, ruffling your hair as he towered over you with a cocky grin, and smirking when you called him an idiot. 

He relished every moment he could pull your attention from your studies or your brother, craving the fiery glint in your eyes when you were annoyed with him. 

Unlike the rest of the people in Gojo’s life, you weren’t part of Jujutsu society.

You couldn’t see curses, didn’t wield cursed energy, and, for the most part, seemed blissfully unaware of the world that surrounded your brother and his friends as you pursued your studies. 

Nanami had always insisted on keeping you far from it, which was just another thing Gojo couldn’t help but admire. 

You were grounded in a way the rest of them weren’t, so wonderfully normal amidst their chaos.

And you had this way of looking at him—not like the strongest sorcerer, not like the next great hope of Jujutsu society—but just like a guy who annoyed the hell out of you.

At first, it felt harmless. You were Nanami’s younger sister. Off-limits. Untouchable. The unspoken one Nanami had pulled from the very beginning. 

“Don’t even think about it, Gojo,” he’d once joked, though the steel in his voice had been unmistakable. That line, so clearly drawn by your older brother, was one Gojo thought he could respect.

However…Gojo wasn’t exactly known for adhering to rules, and over time, what started as a playful crush transformed into something far more real.

—

Gojo had really noticed the shift in how he saw you one lazy afternoon when you were both a little older, himself a second-year and Nanami now in first year. 

You’d stopped by Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High to drop off lunch for Nanami, a routine occurrence Gojo had witnessed more times than he could count.

And yet, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, that day felt… different.

He spotted you from across the courtyard, standing near the steps with a neatly folded paper bag in hand. The sun hit you just right, its golden rays catching in your hair and making it shimmer. 

Gojo found himself frozen mid-step, watching as you leaned toward Nanami, laughing at something he’d said.

He felt his chest tighten, his usual cocky grin faltering as something entirely unfamiliar bubbled up inside him.

He’d seen you countless times before—bickering with Nanami, reading quietly under a tree, rolling your eyes when he teased you. But this was the first time he’d truly seen you, and it shook him more than he cared to admit.

Gojo brushed it off with his usual bravado. It’s nothing, he told himself. Just a fluke. A trick of the light. I’m Satoru freakin’ Gojo. I don’t get fazed by stuff like..like girls.

But the image of you standing there, radiant and laughing, stuck with him.

Later that day, Nanami caught him staring off into space, absently twirling a pen between his fingers.

“You’ve got that dumb look on your face again,” Nanami deadpanned, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence of the common room.

Gojo blinked, jolting out of his thoughts. “Huh? Dumb? I don’t do dumb looks,” he shot back, feigning nonchalance as he leaned back in his chair.

Nanami raised a brow, unimpressed. “Right…” He said, but didn’t press forward.

Gojo leaned back further in his chair, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to his dilemma. 

He’d never tell Nanami the truth—that he’d been so distracted by you. 

Because even though he’d brushed it off earlier, Satoru Gojo knew better. That moment in the courtyard wasn’t nothing. It was the beginning of a realization he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

—

By the time you and Gojo were in your late teens you had both become insufferable in your own ways. 

You–who was constantly studying and reading and cramming your head full of anything instead of living your life. And Gojo–whose ego was the size of Mt. Fuji and spoke 100 kilometres an hour. 

This specific night, Nanami had reluctantly invited Gojo over for dinner at your family’s house after the persistent pestering of his taller, louder classmate. 

Gojo, being Gojo, had made himself right at home, lounging on your family’s couch as if he owned the place. Your parents were out for the evening, and Nanami had resigned himself to the kitchen, grumbling about Gojo’s ability to eat an ungodly amount of food.

Dinner wasn’t ready yet, which left you and Gojo alone in the dining room as Nanami busied himself in the kitchen, muttering under his breath about Gojo’s bottomless appetite.

You’d been sitting at the dining table, flipping through a thick textbook, completely ignoring Gojo’s antics. Or at least, you had been, until Gojo sauntered over, leaned against the back of your chair, tipping it slightly, forcing you to glance up.

“You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that,” he teased, his signature smirk firmly in place.

“Do you ever not talk?” You replied, exasperation lacing your tone as you tilted your head to glare up at him.

“Rarely,” he shot back, before letting the chair fall back into place and taking a seat beside you at the table. “You’re really gonna spend the whole evening buried in those books?” He drawled, his voice a mix of amusement and boredom.

You didn’t bother looking up. “Not everyone has the luxury of being naturally insufferable and talented like you, Gojo.”

“Aw, you think I’m talented?” His grin was audible in his voice.

You finally lifted your gaze, levelling him with the flattest look you could muster. “Not what I said.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his chin propped up on one hand. The orange sunlight streaming through the window caught in his hair, making it gleam like spun silver. “Come on, y/n, live a little. You’re always so serious.”

“Not everyone can afford to ‘live a little,’” you muttered, your tone softer than before.

Gojo’s grin faltered, just for a heartbeat, before returning with renewed mischief. “Then it’s my civic duty to help you loosen up.”

Before you could stop him, he reached across the table and flicked the corner of your notebook. It slid a few inches down the table out of your reach, the pages fluttering slightly.

“Gojo,” you snapped, sitting up straighter.

“What?” His innocent tone was as fake as the wide-eyed look he gave you. “I’m just trying to help.”

You leaned over to grab the notebook, but Gojo was quicker. He snatched it up and held it above his head, just out of reach.

“Satoru,” you hissed, standing now, your chair scraping loudly against the floor.

He smirked, leaning back in his chair as he dangled the notebook higher. “What’s the magic word?”

“I’m not playing this game with you.”

You stepped closer, your hand reaching for the notebook, but Gojo shifted at the last second. In one smooth motion, he stood, towering over you with that infuriating smirk still plastered across his face.

“Wow, so short,” he teased, looking down at you with mock pity.

“I hate you,” you said, glaring up at him.

“Liar,” he shot back, his grin widening.

The room felt smaller now, the air warmer. You tried not to notice how close he was, how his presence seemed to fill every corner of the space.

“Just give it back,” you said, your voice quieter this time.

Gojo tilted his head, considering your request, but made no move to comply. 

Instead, he bent down slightly, just enough that your faces were almost level. His free hand braced against the edge of the table beside you, caging you in without even touching you.

“You really want it?” He asked, his tone low, teasing.

The words made your pulse quicken, though you’d never admit it. You reached for the notebook again, but he didn’t budge, his grin softening into something more unreadable.

And then you noticed it—his breath, warm and feather-light against your cheek. You were close enough to feel his breath.

The realization hit you all at once. Your skin burned where his breath lingered, and the heat crawled upward, spreading across your face and down your neck.

“Gojo,” you said, but it came out quieter than you intended, almost a whisper.

“What?” He murmured, his voice matching your softness now.

You didn’t answer, your mind too preoccupied with the way his gaze lingered on you, no longer playful but intense, searching.

His grin returned, but it was softer this time, almost shy. “You’re blushing, y/n,” he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, your gaze darting away as if the floor could save you from the warmth blooming across your face. 

“No, I’m not,” you mumbled, despite the obvious pink hue radiating from your cheeks.

Gojo chuckled, a low, quiet sound that only made your blush deepen. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

You felt your heart do a little flip and you spun around, turning your back to him and crossing your arms over your chest.

“No I’m not–You–” You said shortly, trying to make yourself seem more annoyed than flustered.

“What?” He drawled, his tone all lazy amusement. 

“I’m just making an observation.” His grin was practically audible as he tilted his head. “I mean, look at you. Bright red. Are you sure you’re not coming down with something? Or is it just me?”

You spun around so fast you almost knocked into him, your hands flying up to shove at his chest, but he barely budged. “You’re such a—”

“Careful now,” he interrupted, catching your wrists with ease. His grip was light but firm, his thumbs brushing over your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Wouldn’t want you to say something you can’t take back.”

Your glare faltered under his steady gaze, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of looking away. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are,” he shot back smoothly, a smirk curling his lips. “It’s almost like you enjoy my company.”

“Well I don’t,” you snapped. “I’m not the one who invited you for dinner Gojo.” 

Gojo’s smirk widened, but he finally released your wrists, stepping back just enough to give you space—though not nearly enough to escape the heat of his presence.

“Hm, ya’know–you’re right,” he spoke slowly, his tone dripping with mock innocence as he turned toward the kitchen, hands sliding casually into his pockets. “I’ll try not to charm ya too much during dinner.”

You stood frozen, your cheeks still blazing and your heart racing as his footsteps faded. With a frustrated huff, you followed, vowing silently not to let him get under your skin again.

—

By the time you were in your early twenties, you had quietly come to terms with your crush on Satoru Gojo.

It wasn’t hard to pinpoint why you liked him. Gojo had been a constant presence in your life since your young teenage years, and despite his insufferable arrogance and larger-than-life personality, there was a charm about him you couldn’t deny. 

He teased you relentlessly, always flashing that blinding smile that made your heart skip a beat.

But it wasn’t just the teasing or the jokes. It was the way he treated you differently, always going out of his way to check on you, lingering just a little longer than necessary whenever you were around.

Still, you convinced yourself it didn’t mean anything. Gojo was like that with everyone—or so you told yourself…It was safer that way.

That afternoon, you sat across from Utahime at your favourite coffee shop in the neighbourhood near the office you worked at, absently stirring your drink as she rattled on about her recent frustrations at work.

You tried to focus—nodding at all the right times, but your mind kept drifting.

“Are you even listening to me?” Utahime asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Of course I am,” you lied, forcing a smile.

“Uh-huh.” She sipped her coffee, then leaned back with a sigh. “You’ve been spacey lately. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you said too quickly, heat creeping up your neck. “Just tired, I guess.”

She gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further.

The bell above the café door chimed, and you glanced up instinctively—only to immediately wish you hadn’t.

There he was.

Gojo Satoru strolled in like he owned the place, his sunglasses pushed up into his snow-white hair and his hands stuffed casually into his coat pockets. He scanned the room, and the moment his eyes landed on you, his face lit up with a grin that sent your heart racing.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, sinking lower in your seat.

Utahime’s gaze flicked between you and Gojo, her lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, this should be fun.”

“Don’t you start,” you warned.

Before she could respond, Gojo was already making his way toward your table, exuding his usual overconfidence.

“Ladies,” he greeted, pulling out the chair next to you without waiting for an invitation. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Gojo,” Utahime said dryly, her tone laced with disdain that only seemed to amuse him.

“Utahime,” he replied, his grin widening.

He turned his attention to you, his expression softening slightly. “And you. Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I could say the same to you,” you shot back, doing your best to sound indifferent despite the way your pulse quickened under his gaze.

“Touché,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “But I’d argue that seeing you is much more important than work.”

Utahime snorted, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Does that line actually work on people?” Utahime asked, sounding as unimpressed as ever.

Gojo shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Guess it depends on the person.”

The conversation moved on—or rather, Utahime and Gojo bickered while you quietly sipped your drink, pretending not to notice the way Gojo kept stealing glances at you.

Then, out of nowhere, he said it.

“So,” Gojo began, his tone deceptively casual as he put one hand on the back of your chair, causing it to tilt back a bit, “what are you doing tonight?”

You froze, your mind racing as your eyes left their place on your coffee and found his. “Why?”

“Because I want to take you out,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Dinner. Just the two of us.”

Your jaw nearly hit the table. Surely, you’d misheard him.

Utahime, on the other hand, choked on her coffee.

“Excuse me?” You managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me,” Gojo said, his grin softening into something almost... hopeful. “What do you say?”

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. You’d spent years convincing yourself that Gojo didn’t see you that way—that his teasing was just his personality, nothing more. But now, staring into those piercing blue eyes, you couldn’t ignore the sincerity in his expression.

Before you could answer, Utahime broke the silence. “Oh my god,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What?” You asked, still reeling.

“I can’t do this…this has been obvious to everyone but you,” she said, looking at you like you’d grown a second head. 

“He’s been obsessed with you for years, and you’re just now realizing it?”

Your face turned scarlet as you stammered, “That’s—that’s not true.”

Gojo, to his credit, looked thoroughly amused. “See? I knew I liked you for a reason, Utahime. It is totally 100% true.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” she said, waving him off before standing up and leaving some cash beside her empty mug. “I’m leaving before this gets any worse. Good luck, Gojo—you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” he called after her, clearly enjoying himself.

Once Utahime was gone, you turned back to Gojo, your mind still spinning. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” he asked, his tone unusually serious.

You searched his face for any sign of mischief, but there was none. Just that same unwavering confidence and something else—something softer, almost vulnerable.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “One dinner.”

Gojo’s grin returned full force, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t joking.

[theealbatross]

kiss me (s.s.)

Plot | You fought, kissed, and made up. But it could never be that easy.

or, Sebastian took two steps forward and three steps back.

Tags | insecurities, social pressures, obsessive tendencies, slytherin!reader, dark!seb and reader if you squint, but not really, underage drinking (theyre all 16-18 in this), they're just crazy about each other and can't tell anyone, kissing (duh) nothing too PG, happy ending?, read 4k words and figure it out, if the end made you scream say 'aye'

[ 6th Year ]

“Spin that fucking bottle!”

If you had known what absolute monstrosity you would create when you introduced muggle sleepover games to your housemates you would’ve gone to bed early.

But now, you were surrounded by drunk, nosy, Slytherins that were dead-set on exposing each other’s most embarrassing secrets. No one was safe.

“Imelda!” Everyone cheered, Grace quickly hooked her arms around the other girl’s neck when she tried to escape.

The party had long since been over, most of the students from other houses had already retired to their own rooms but those who had friends in Slytherin (like Poppy and Natty) or were too drunk to journey back to the spiraling staircases of their houses safely (like Everett and Samantha) decided to sober up for a while in the Quidditch Grand Champion’s common room.

“Are you actually as mean as you pretend to be or do you just not know how to make friends,” Natty slurred, pointing and wagging a finger at her.

If she was in a better constitution, she would’ve been able to brush off that accusation easily and with confidence but a dozen of improved (thanks Garreth) Firewhiskey shots later and the ever-guarded Imelda flushed in embarrassment to the surprise of everyone. The small circle burst out laughing, Imelda pushed Grace away in annoyance.

“It’s okay, ‘melda. We love you as you are!” Poppy was definitely still hammered.

“Next, next, next!”

The bottle spun and spun but your eyes were at the boy who had just returned from tucking Ominis in their shared dorm. You smiled up at him as he sat in the reserved space available just for him right beside you. “Omi?” you mouthed.

He squeezed your hands, silently letting you know your lightweight friend was now safely tucked in his own bed and ready to welcome the worst hangover he had ever known tomorrow.

“Well, well, well! Our brilliant, beloved, beater!”

It was when you turned your eyes back down on the ground that you saw that the mouth of the bottle was now undoubtedly pointed at Sebastian.

“Mate, I just got here!”

The crowd booed, Sebastian receiving light punches and playful jeers. “It’s the rules, Sallow!”

Everyone looked at you expectantly, the false inventor of such guidelines. You smirked, shrugging, “Rules are rules.”

Sebastian gaped at the betrayal. He gave you a look that lets you know he’ll get you back for this, even secretly poking your waist sharply. You didn’t like the way your housemate’s eyes glinted at the small interaction. Oh no.

“Alright, Alright,” Garreth shushed the crowd with two outstretched hands. “I have the million galleon question! I’m sure everyone will praise my genius for it!”

“Get on with it already!”

The Gryffindor threw a drunken glare at the voice from the back of the common room. “Now, I’m sure our dear Sebastian, despite receiving many letters of admiration and flutters of pretty lashes –”

“Gross,” Imelda grumbled.

“—has yet to officially court someone!” Garreth announced, arms stretched wide like he was a ringmaster about to start his greatest show. Everyone oo-ed and ahh-ed and cheered.

You didn’t like where this was going.

Sebastian, for all the eyes that were on him, managed to maintain the small smile on his cocky face.

It was true. You were not blind to the … physical developments he had undergone the last two years nor to the attention it had garnered him. The boy you had sneaked around Hogwarts with in your fifth year had disappeared and was replaced by a man. An unfairly tall, tanned, attractive man. You damn near walked past him again if he had not pulled you to his side on your first day during your 6th year.

You weren’t ignorant of it, nor were you dumb enough to deny your attraction to your friend.

But you are a lady. And his friend.

His most trusted, beloved friend (his words not yours).

You’d rather not risk your lifelong connection if he won’t. You know how to read between the lines as blurry as it had become. He’s lost too much and you refuse to become another scar in his soul. The both of you have had enough of that to last you till the next lifetime.

“So, my question is,” your eyes widened when you felt two hands on each of your shoulders, in your deep reverie you have failed to notice Garreth sneaking behind your back or that all conniving eyes and raised eyebrows were now on you.

Sebastian smiled.

“Kiss, Marry, Kill.”

[ 7th Year ]

It was by incredible luck that your 7th year of Hogwarts called for the Triwizard tournaments to be held in Hogwarts.

You were prepared to enjoy the event in relative peace. Happy that for once you would be the spectator of all the action instead of being the one in the middle of it.

Life just can’t make it that easy for you.

You did not even realize that Sebastian of all people had thrown his name in as consideration until he had been called and your dreams of a quiet last year in Hogwarts were shot to the depths of hell. It was the first time in a while that you felt true fear, the type that froze all your blood solid.

The fight that followed in the Undercroft was explosive.

“How could you be so reckless, Sebastian?! People die in these games! Why would you do this?!”

Just the thought of it makes your stomach sink. Sebastian will be front and center of this bloody battle of pride that is broadcasted to the entire wizarding world. It was different when it was the two of you jumping through all types of danger – this time you won’t be able to help him. He will be alone.

Yet, when you had expected a valid explanation and a plan out of all this madness he instead looked at you with such anger and vitriol that you physically flinched.

“Because I am sick of being just your friend!” Even Ominis pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on. Foreseeing a tragedy about to uncontrollably unroll. “I’m constantly surrounded by you two! Ominis Gaunt, the scion of the purest bloodline in the wizarding world, the Heir of Slytherin who could do no wrong! How brilliant!”

He cackled a laugh, he looked like a man at the brink of insanity. How long had he been holding on to these thoughts?

“And you!”

“Sebastian enough –” Ominis tried to cut through his mania but he wasn’t having any of it. Once the words were out, there was no taking them back in. He was cursed – he will have to see it through.

“Famed Hero of Hogwarts,” each word was dripped in poison, the insecurities bubbling inside him caused him to lash out at anyone and everyone who dared question his decision. How could they understand? How would they understand a nobody? “Do you know how tired I am of being in your shadow?”

He felt the sting before he heard it, the slap drowned the Undercroft in silence. Then, the weight of his grave words sunk in. The green haze in his head cleared just to see the boiling tears falling down your distraught face.

What has he –

“Then let me free you of such shadow, Sebastian,” your face crumpled, physically pained by such cruelty from your dearest companion. “You’re on your own this time.”

That had been months ago, aside from the few classes you had together he had not even seen you anywhere else. Not even in the first game when he had sent you an owl begging you for a chance to apologize and dedicating his win to you. The victory over the other contestants tasted bitter when he couldn’t find your face in the celebrating crowd.

And the pit in his chest turned into a black hole when he caught Ominis at the edge of the celebration shaking his head. She didn’t come. He’s lost her.

Ominis refused to help him – not that he deserved any. In retrospect, it was ... silly – the insecurities he had been shamefully hiding. He knew his friends had never seen him short of an equal but it’s difficult to see the good when the entire world is looking down at you with cruel, disapproving eyes when your back is turned. Cruel whispers they made sure only he could hear.

“I thought he’d live somewhere more posh.” “Sallow? Dating her? That’s preposterous he’s an orphan with barely a galleon to his name.” “Why do you think they keep him around?”

It was stupid and irrational and he handled it in the worst possible way. Lashed out at the one person who least deserved it, who went through hell to drag him back out, then benevolently tended to all the wounds and scars in his humanity till he was himself again.

“Let me free you of such shadow, Sebastian.”

He slammed his head on the wall he was leaning on, the heartbreaking image of her distressed face was a nightmare that had chased him awake or asleep.  Sebastian may deserve this but you most definitely didn’t. He never deserved you.

Yet, here he was, sitting on the floor of the Ravenclaw Tower with a wilted bouquet of wildflowers he had picked before breakfast, hoping he could catch her somehow. He ignored the giggles, snickers, and confused questions thrown his way no matter how embarrassed he felt. He wasn’t moving from this spot until he can apologize – the silent treatment was torture worse than Crucio. And he had been hit with one.

At the first sound of the walls transforming, he was already up on his feet, his hands instinctively brushing his hair as if looking presentable would even out his chances of repairing his most treasured friendship.

The door opened and finally, your eyes met his. The tension was something that would choke even the greediest puffskein. Your eyes were wide, unblinking and your lips were pursed in a fine line that communicated how much you loathed being in his presence. He hopes you know that you could never hate him as much as he hated himself at this very moment.

“For you!” It was only when it was being offered to you did he realize how abysmal the dying bouquet he had been carrying in his hands since this morning looked. But it was too late now, she was already here, looking at the flower then back to him and all the lines he had practiced flew out of his head.

Instead, he just fell to his knees, prostrating, tears already threatening to fall down his face. He had never been an honorable man. “Sebastian! Get up!”

“I will do anything you ask me to,” The feel of her touch made his skin tingle. After months of not even catching your eyes or hearing your voice and it was more than worth it to suffer through all this humiliation just for this moment. Even if you may never forgive him at least he could apologize. He’ll have a better last moment with you than your fight. “I’ll win the games. I’ll quit. I’ll drop out of Hogwarts if that’s what you want just, please … forgive me.”

He felt your arms wrap around him but he was too distraught, barely comprehending that you had somehow pulled him back into the room until the two of you fell on the ground and the door of the room slammed shut. Still, he continued sobbing in your arms, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he drenched your neck with his anguished tears. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Sebastian wasn’t playing fair but your forgiveness was a prize he was willing to cheat to earn. There would be no point of honor if he lost you – anyone else but you.

“It wasn’t anything you did. It was me,” he sobbed. “I just – you and Ominis became such incredible people that I realized it was me who had not become anyone. I am a nobody!”

“Sebastian that is just not true –”

“It’s moronic I know! But I just thought … if I could win these games … if I could stop being just myself and be a champion then I can finally earn the spot beside you.”

It was embarrassing to admit all that, the deep insecurities that had festered inside of him the moment he was finally faced with the reality of the world. That he was surround by great people who has and will achieve great things and he was … him. A failure, a murderer, a burden.

“Don’t make me slap you again,” your cold voice woke him up from his self-lashings.

He sniffed, nodding, finally finding the strength and shame to sit up on his knees in front of you. “I … I really am so sorry.”

He pinched his eyes shut, preparing himself for the worst. His nails digging in his palm in an effort to stop it from shaking. However, it took one touch of your palms to break through all his pretenses. “I forgive you.”

He crumbled in relief, jumping into your open arms in a mess of tears, snot, and even more apologies.

“I know, I know,” you shushed him, hands tight even as he soaked your shirt through. “Ominis talked to me and … Sebastian you really are so silly. What do you mean you're a nobody? You're the top student in our year! So much so that all those Ravenclaws have declared you their enemy. You're the greatest beater in our generation that even I have been receiving owls begging me to somehow convince you to play for their team when you graduate! I can't even imagine how many times I would have gotten in trouble or straight-up died if it wasn't for you! I swear you're so fucking daft sometimes!”

He nodded eagerly, taking any jabs you may have if it meant you were talking to him. Even if it was still difficult for him to accept that any of those achievements you dictated could ever surmount to what you had achieved he knew it wasn't smart to try and correct it now when you had just forgiven his transgressions. “Stupid, stupid, boy.”

It was there in that room that your fractured friendship was mended with a bunch of dead flowers and Sebastian’s tears.

To celebrate, you had produced a couple of leftover Hogshead Brew for the two of you to enjoy till you were tipsy enough to forget the past horrible months without each other and were now giggling to each other’s face as if to make up for all the laughs you were owed in the months of silence.

“Lay back down, your eyes are going to be swollen shut.”

He’s been crying so hard for so long that he was too tired to do anything but follow your words, laying at the center of the bed you’ve conjured and sighing at the warm cloth you pressed on his eyes that miraculously stopped the world from spinning.

If he thinks too hard about the shameful faces he had shown you, he fears he’s going to combust, instead he focused on the rake of your nails on his hair, the familiar scent of your perfume he had given to you as a gift for your birthday last year, and the weight of your head as you laid on his stomach while the alcohol coursed through his body.

“You shouldn’t quit.”

He folded the cloth in one eye to take a peek at you. You giggled sweetly, clearly taking the drink harder than him, and gods above did he miss it. His happiness was cut short however when you crawled over the length of his body and instead plopped next to him, your head resting on his outstretched arm.

Physical affection wasn’t new to the two of you – after what you had been through hugs and holding hands were something the two of you found comfort in, a reminder that despite everything, the two of you made it out together – but after a few months without it he was faced with the realization of how unconventionally intimate your friendship truly was.

“Like I said, Ominis explained to me how you’ve been feeling – only another man would ever understand a bruised man’s ego. And if this is what’s going to make you feel better then I will support you till the end.” He turned his head so he can look at your eyes. When you cupped his face he felt his gut curl on itself from adoration. “But make no mistake Sebastian, the two of us have always been equals. We’re kindred spirits, remember?”

Kindred spirits, he thought. He remembers the first time he called the two of you that -- something a little cheeky for the first witch who didn't sneer in disgust at the prospects of his less than favorable past time. The curiosity in your eyes then was one he had seen in his own, even then he had this funny feeling that you were going to get along very well.

If he only knew how right he was, he would've thought he was a prodigy in divination.

A tear once again pebbled at the memory but just as he closed his eyes ready to wipe it away you were already sitting up, throwing the wet cloth and pressing a kiss on the edge of it. Sebastian sucked in a breath, blinking to see you hovering over him now. He’s never seen you this zealous. The passion in your eyes is almost mirroring his own.

It would seem whatever was in that brew had smashed through your inhibitions and his pride as he let you continue peppering kisses all over his face.

“You are very precious to me,” she whispered fondly, her gaze soft, drunk and adoring then it turned dark, an emotion crossed your face that he’d only seen when you had been fighting the meanest of foes. “I’d blow this entire school up before I let any of them think they could take your place in my life.”

Sebastian shuddered, his entire body burning under your gaze.

Leaning over again, you pressed another kiss on his other eyelid. “I won’t allow anyone to take you away from me.”

On his forehead. “And you are not allowed to leave me. I forbid it, Sebastian.”

As pathetic as it was, the words were everything he needed to hear. The possession healing over all his insecurities like a balm.

He has always been a selfish lad. His parents and everything he had ever known were ripped away from him at too early of an age that it made him realize that he needed to protect Anne because she was all he had but even that exploded spectacularly into a tragedy.

And then he met you and finally, finally, he met his person. Someone who was seemingly made just for him. Someone who understood him for all his secrets and flaws and still called him a friend.

However, it would seem that he was cursed of a cruel fate. Because the one person who was supposed to be just his turned out to be the most sought-after witch of their generation with the type of magic that had not been seen in centuries. At first, it didn’t matter, he was confident of his place in your life. But as the two of you grew up, the reality that your position in society were skies apart was when his insecurities began to painfully blossom.

But this … it was nice to be claimed like this. To be able to hear and see the crazed obsession he had only seen in his own reflection be mirrored by the one person he needed it from the most. The whole world can laugh behind his back, it didn’t matter anymore. The most brilliant witch in history is in this bed with him, kissing all his insecurities away and branding him as hers.

He chuckled but was cut short when you pressed a softer kiss just by the edge of his smile. His heart threatened to pound out of his chest, his ears failing to hear anything else but the next words out of your mouth. “Do you understand me, Sebastian?”

It has never been clearer: she is his.

“You are mine.”

With her final words, Sebastian’s brain seems to finally function again. A surge of alcohol and courage caused him to raise his limbs to cup your face, pulling you closer and closer so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since your first duel.

A kiss. A promise. The final bind that would lock your souls together forevermore.

You gasped, smiling through the kiss before you plopped your entire body on top of his, your body finally getting overwhelmed by the alcohol and all that has happened in the past hours – knocking you straight into a dreamless sleep.

For the first time in a long, long while, he was at peace.

The two of you may never remember this moment but he’ll know it in his soul. In this dim room, surrounded by her scent, and her skin, and her kisses – he has finally found where he belongs and who belonged to him.

He pulled you into him – tighter, closer. It didn’t matter, you were his.

Only his.

“Guess we made up?”

When you woke up Sebastian was already lounging in the ottoman by the end of the bed, casually reading a book while you were crawling towards him with your blanket over your head and suffering through a hangover.

If not for the redness in his eyes you would’ve thought you hallucinated his teary apologies.

He was quick to open up his form, grabbing a decorative pillow for you as you laid down on his lap dramatically. You don’t remember much but you knew enough that the big fight was forgotten and forgiven.

“Guess so, darling,” he chuckled nonchalantly, back to his cool, charming self as if he hadn’t been a crybaby in your arms just yesterday.

‘Darling’? That’s new.

You grinned, letting him pet you. You weren’t complaining, not being friends with Sebastian felt wrong and it was a miracle you stood your ground as hard as you did.

“Aren’t I so gracious, dear?” you teased, poking his stomach to make him flinch. The two of you laughed. “What happened after I popped out that blasted poison from Hogshead?”

When you try to comb through your memories your headache fights back with a vengeance so you had hoped he would supply the blank pages in your mind.

He stared at you for a beat before sighing, looking truly as miffed as you. “I wish I remembered, I’m in the dark as much as you.”

And as much as he knows it was wrong to not try to remember, he also knew he wouldn’t be able to live through the embarrassment of what he might’ve been telling you while he was drunk and emotional again. It was a mistake but he was more than happy to let those blank memories remain blank. What’s important is that you are friends again.

“Let’s focus on the future now, hm? No sense digging through what would definitely be an embarrassing moment for me,” he groaned, pinching your cheeks when you gave him a teasing smile.

You hesitated, biting your lip but then nodded. “If you say so.” It was in the past after all.

Sebastian was glad you let it go. (He will regret this in years to come.)

“Speaking of futures, I had wanted to ask you,” he played with the short strands of your hair, heart full of adoration as he looked down at your face. “Go to the Yule Ball with me? Gotta have a pretty date for this year.”

You dramatically gasped, “The Future Triwizard Champion asking little old me? Also, I was your date last year, scoundrel!”

He burst out laughing, you jumped into his arms, pressing a kiss on his cheeks.

His lips tingled, his head ached as it begged him to remember. But then you flashed him that bright smile and nothing else mattered.

“I would love to.”

The two of you were back to what you had once been. It would just be greedy to ask for more.

Right?

[cocoatonedcurls]

simplified manifestation 101 :))

hii! i thought I would post a beginner's guide to manifestation, for people who are still new to the idea of it/want a thorough, contextualised explanation 🤗

manifestation is not something people necessarily struggle with, however, grasping concepts about it and misconceptions surrounding it can make it a little difficult for those who are just starting out.

if I could simplify manifesting down to a single sentence, it would be:

"If you can believe it, you can have it."

it's really as simple as that, manifesting is all about believing 😇

I don't know if anyone else had this experience, but when I was a kid, around 7-12, I used to manifest without even knowing what it was; I would just believe that I was going to achieve something that was , there was no uncertainty about it, and then, I would! 🤩

(I manifested a spot in a competition abroad when I was 10 🫣)

Over time, as my confidence in myself faded, this occurrence would happen far less frequently which goes to show that its all about your confidence and belief 💥

This is gonna sound like something straight out of mlp 😭 but you just need to believe in urself and the universe will conform to allow everything you want to be yours 🙈

some basic guidelines

* CIRCUMSTANCE DOESN'T MATTER

no, it doesn't matter if you're trying to get an ex back, or win the lottery, or convince your parents (who've been putting it off) to get a dog. manifesting is taking your life into your own hands and controlling it. your life is a movie and you're the director of it.

now, majority of people get into manifesting when they are curious about manifesting SPs, but coincidentally, it is also the concept that people struggle with the most because of the concern of free will or circumstances, but really neither of those two things matter.

* DON'T GET AFFECTED BY THE 3D

the 4D is the dimension that allows you to live the life that you would live while having what you are manifesting. as long as you are aware of what you're manifesting, just visualise yourself living in this reality and feel all the emotions and fulfilment you would while living in that ideal reality, this will allow you to reach the state of having, which I will get onto later in the post

the 3D is the dimension you experience physically, but it does not get to dictate what is yours and what will be yours; that is what the 4D does, it controls the 3D, and lucky for you, you control the 4D!

if you're manifesting an SP and you see that person posting with another person of interest, don't start sulking and feeling sorry for yourself thinking that its over for you, that's shooting yourself in the foot. what you do is you think "that's cool, but they're happier with me", that way you're not getting affected by the 3d and conveying your message to the 4D, which will relay it back to the 3D, and then your 3D will conform to it.

* "EVERYONE IS YOU PUSHED OUT" & LAW OF ASSUMPTION

you see this saying, Everyone is You Pushed Out, a lot in the manifesting community, and it might seem like an intimidating concept but its something that you experience in your day to day life anyways 😦

for example, you know when you've heard something about someone which changes your perception of them, and suddenly their persona suddenly conforms to your changed perception? that's the law of EIYPO in action!

the Law of Assumption is essentially the same concept but in a more general state, like your life as a whole, eg. manifesting a better grade or job or paycheck 💸

however, the way I see it, the results of manifesting are the results of other people's actions. for example, if you're manifesting a better grade, you yourself are the person that your manifestations are affecting, you'll retain information better and apply your knowledge properly in a test; if you're manifesting a job, your manifestations are affecting the person who had the position before to move, and the person who is hiring to be inclined to hire you; and the same concept applies to when manifesting an SP, your manifestations are affecting your SP to have more positively correlated feelings towards you.

so you can use these concepts to help you in your manifestations, particularly in the SP context: if you believe that they are attracted to you, it'll only be a matter of time before they will be.

* THE STATE OF HAVING, NOT DESIRING

considering this is arguably one of the most important aspects of manifesting. it is what brings manifestations to fruition

in simple terms, there are two objective states of being when manifesting:

The state of having

The state of wanting

The state of having is what you experience when you allow yourself to live in the 4D (the 4th dimension, where your goals are reality) and feel the fulfilment that you would feel while living the life you are manifesting. Affirmations like "I am paid incredibly well", "That job is mine", "They are attracted to me" will help you in achieving this mindset. This feeling is your biggest helper when it comes to applying the Law of Assumption/EIYPO in practice! It is you knowing you have what you want and allowing the universe to do the rest for you.

The state of wanting is when you are stuck feeling like you still crave what you are manifesting, not feeling like it is secured in your possession. This can leave you plateaued and doubts can slow down your manifesting. Affirmations like "I will be paid well", "That job will be mine", "They will be attracted to me" pose the question 'WHEN?'

Now don't take this as a, "If I doubt, my manifestation won't come true" because we all have doubts, even the greatest manifesters, but what is important is that your doubts do not stop your state of having being affected. As long as in the 4D you know it is yours, the 3D will conform to make it yours.

Here's a quote that helps me acheive the state of having

"You want it so badly because you already have it in the future"

simplified tutorial :)

many people have the question, "how?"

there isn't any set way, but honestly, the state of having is the essence of manifesting, if you can remain in the state of having, you can achieve your goal.

now that isn't to say that if you're not in that state, thinking about it 24/7, your goal wont manifest, but rather, if in the background of your mind, you have a feeling of knowing it is yours and not panicking about it, it will happen.

if someone asks, "hey, what's your job?" you'd reply with your current job, but in your mind you'd know that your dream job was what you actually worked as. this example highlights the difference between the 3D and the 4D and how not to let your 3D affect your state while still living in the 4D.

techniques like robotic affirmations, visualising and different manifestation methods (3,6,9 method, letter method, etc.) can help you reach the state of having and manifesting. there are so many different techniques you can find!

it really all comes down to how I described manifesting earlier, believing it is achieving it.

hopefully this was helpful for you whether you're completely new to manifesting or you just wanted some clarification and concepts :))

- li 🌘

[unforth]

Shower thoughts about "kids shouldn't be allowed on the internet until (insert arbitrary age here)" and "kids shouldn't even know about sex until (insert arbitrary age here" are adjacent flavors of the same incredibly flawed idea that like...

There are these Big Things that, when we reach a certain age, are likely to be day-to-day relevant in our lives. Even if we don't have sex daily or use the internet daily, these topics come up in our media, our discourse, our news, our surroundings, every single day.

And the "kids shouldn't be using the internet" thing posits a reality where we can keep kids from knowing about it or wanting to use it - when many parents use it daily! - until some arbitrary time when "they're ready" and then suddenly they are allowed to, with all the knowledge and skills and curiosity of being that age, go loose on something they've never learned how to use. Likewise with sex, the ages most people say it's "okay" when they make these arguments are usually teen years, when the AVERAGE age when USAdians lose their virginity is 17. Considering how many people on this website routinely report being virgins in their 20s or 30s, how many kids are fucking at 13 to make the average that low? What do you think happens if their sexual awakenings come at the same time *or before* anyone has given them age appropriate sex ed?

For the internet, I can actually say anecdotally, what happens! Because we got internet at home when I was 12. Issues included me spending ludicrous amounts of money on pay-by-the-hour usage (did you know that in the mid 90s AOL charged by the hour? Now you know.), addictively hanging out in chats and playing muds until 2 am, then attending school daily on 4 hours sleep, fending off countless A/S/L messages from weirdo old dudes, and being solicited for cybersex with strangers! And I had no idea what I was doing! And here again is the overlap of internet and sex!

Anyway. I told myself I'd keep this short but here we are.

Age-appropriate sex-ed, age-appropriate internet usage, age-appropriate [insert thing you think kids shouldn't know anything about at all for some fucking reason] will almost always keep children safer than throwing them in the deep-end when they're older.

[What WHO says about age-appropriate sex ed][related lit review]

[UK National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children device usage guidelines] [American Psychological Association advice]

Teaching children age-appropriate things about ubiquitous topics is prevention and is the best way to keep them safe. Period. End of story.

[akajustmerry]

Can someone please explain this richonne van lore to me? I can't listen to the podcast you mentioned

oh, I will GLADLY. so season 7 episode 12 of The Walking Dead is called 'Say Yes' and is widely known as the rick and michonne honeymoon episode by cast and fans alike. It aired in 2017.

For context, it's not a literal honeymoon but those are the vibes. it's the first episode dealing with their relationship properly after they first get together in season 6. Rick and Michonne hornily volunteer for a sneaky cheeky supply run to go retrieve supplies surrounded by a herd of Walkers.

Rick and Michonne are horny as fuck so the episode has lots of them kissing and so forth. now, the VAN SCENE™ is them in the back of the van they've been driving around making out very aggressively. it's as close as TWD can ever get to a sex scene where people are not having sex because TWD was a cable TV show. It's a very brief scene, less than 30 seconds but it's uhh VERY hot.

after the episode aired, Danai Gurira and Andrew Lincoln were asked about shooting these scenes on a panel (I can't find a link but if I do I'll put it here/if anyone has one lmk). both of them mention that, while shooting the van scene, there was a take where they got so "carried away" the footage would never be released. the director of the episode also joked he keeps the footage locked up. None of them ever really said what was in the footage but....well, we're all adults and we can all have a guess. and that's all we could do.... UNTIL NOW.

So, there's a podcast called Richonne Revelry, hosted by some huge fans of TWD. In an episode they released earlier this year about the trailer for The Ones Who Live, one of the hosts mentioned that they met, TWD director Greg Nicotero. Nicotero directed 'Say Yes' and so the podcast host says that she asked Nicotero to tell her about the van scene shoot.

ACCORDING TO HER, Nicotero spilled the beans. Apparently, they just set up the gear in the van with no crew as a closed set and told Danai Gurira and Andrew Lincoln they could just do their thing, which is pretty standard for scenes like that. BUT, according to the host of this podcast, Nicotero said that when his crew got the footage, it was wayyyyyy too raunchy (she says he told her danai was topless for most of it) and danai and andrew were making out so uh.....intensely that the footage couldn't even be spliced to make it appropriate for the show. Danai and Andrew, apparently, were very shocked they had to reshoot because they were actually really happy with it, but Nicotero insisted they do it again and rein it in so they could have some usable footage. The version of the scene we see in the show is the "tame" reshot version, allegedly.

All of this is alleged, of course. A lot of people joke like it's a sex tape, but honestly nudity guidelines for commercial TV are so strict and specific it doesn't take much for any intimate footage to become unusable. Plus, unsimulated sex is a hugeeee no no in mainstream entertainment. Productions get crucified over it. so if that had happened we absolutely would not have heard about it, let alone hear actors joking about it for years. But anyways, that's the lore! One thing we can all agree on is that Danai Gurira and Andrew Lincoln are DEDICATED to their craft, by all reports lmao. personally, I'm just glad to hear a behind the scenes story about actors getting carried away in the moment which DOESN'T involve anyone getting hurt or mistreated 🥰

[lotties-ashwagandha]

the sun

hanako arasaka x bodyguard!reader, word count 2.3k

it’s always been a rule in your profession never to get too close to the arasakas, to stay silent in the pursuit of duty over sentiment — but after your promotion to being assigned the personal bodyguard to hanako, love takes priority over your safety.

written for @elaci , whose stench of pickles is unrivaled. tourney also made the written by vita borders I’ve been using and i love them

The unspoken rule of working for the Arasakas had always been to never get too close. Even those working in the family’s most private affairs understood it as the most important guideline – never become a source of intel, never acquire more knowledge of the family’s dealings than necessary to pick up a check. The Arasaka enterprise was run on money, and the sole way to survive close contact was to feed only on what was provided. 

After the death of Saburo Arasaka, armed security presence surrounding Yorinobu and Hanako Arasaka had increased dramatically, as well as on their sites of business. Tensions had been growing politically in Night City’s response to the death, the cause of the event becoming the newest subject of popular debate. 

You had used the chaos to your advantage – you had been working in security for the Arasakas before the assassination of Saburo, whose death had provided you with innumerable promotion opportunities that you welcomed eagerly as new recruits flooded common security jobs. 

Your loyalty to the company and your reputation throughout it as the best in your field had landed you in the dwelling of Hanako Arasaka. You’d been given the assignment of being her personal bodyguard. You would be responsible in the company of a rotating shift of guards to keep watch over her estate when Hanako was home, and if she left to venture into Night City, it was your responsibility to go with her and ensure her safety. It was a job that seemed relatively easy in your eyes, and the payout would be enough to motivate you to take as many bullets as you could for her and still live to see your money. 

Yet things became more complicated after a few months when you began staying with her after your shift — for dinner, cooked for you by Hanako’s chef, or when she confided in you her need for someone to talk to and you were unable to deny her the luxury of simple conversation. You were witness to Hanako’s most confidential business meetings, and you were the only person she could trust for council. You would share a drink together, and then too many to count, and you would get too drunk to remember most of what you confided in one another the next morning. Sometimes you made it home before then — sometimes you ended up in her bed, either from the consequence of mutual desire, or purely out of leisure and the more favorable prospect of staying with her than making the trip back to your shitty apartment while too drunk to hardly walk straight. Hanako didn’t expect anything from you, only your happiness in whatever way she could provide. 

In her bed is where you lay now, watching Hanako sort through messages on her phone beside you. Your guns and knives have been scattered strategically around the room, in the drawers of the bedside tables and on the dresser, but she doesn’t mind. She enjoys the protection you give and rewards it with luxury. She’s sober, and so are you. Through the months the two of you have grown out of the chaos of needing alcohol in order to find the courage to proclaim your love. This night is one of domesticity. 

A chill runs through you, and you pull the blankets up close. No matter the temperature outside in Night City, it always runs cold in the mansion. Sometimes it’s refreshing — now, it feels isolating. Hanako sits against the headboard unconcerned in her white silk robe. 

In a quick motion you sit up and snatch the phone from Hanako’s gold hands. She gives you a look of confusion, and prepares to speak in protest, but you silence her with a kiss. She lets you pull her down to lay with you — you can feel the tension releasing from her body as she’s given a moment to rest. She lays her head on your chest and snakes an arm around you. 

“You’re always working,” you say quietly. You reach over and set her phone on the bedside table. 

“You’re not,” she responds. Her tone is calm, tranquil, but you can tell she thinks she’s endlessly clever for the remark. 

You shake your head. “My shift is over, it’s late.” You can feel her skepticism, so you continue. “How do you know this isn’t me working? You’re safe, and I’m in close proximity. That’s all I’ve been assigned with.” 

She hums in response, accepting your answer in spite of its lack of credibility. Any other time she would have given you another testy quip, and her silence is evidence of her exhaustion. Her responsibility in the Arasaka enterprise has been overwhelming since the change in power. 

Hanako shifts to be able to look at you. Her expression is one of love, it’s reflected in her eyes as she takes you in. She moves to kiss you gently, her motions unhurried. She’ll use this against you later — she’s right, you aren’t working, but repercussions are off the table as long as you’re alone. 

Her phone chimes from the table, but the two of you are quick to ignore it. You feel pride in leaving Hanako’s phone unanswered, that she’s choosing you over her work. In a relationship with anyone else, it would be expected that work is set aside, but Hanako’s situation is painfully unique. It seems an inexplicably large win that you’ve conquered the necessity of the Arasaka companies, until Hanako’s phone starts ringing relentlessly and you know you’re doomed to spend the night in bed alone. 

Hanako sits up. She gives you a look of remorse before reaching over you for her phone. At once her expression changes as she checks the caller, becoming solemn. She moves off of you. 

“I have to take this,” she says softly. When she meets your eyes, you can see her regret. “I’m sorry.” 

You nod in understanding. You can’t help but feel neglect burrowing within you as you watch her hurry out of the bedroom to take the call. You wish she was still there beside you, within reach. The cold of the room catches your attention again, stronger than before.  

You sigh, letting your head sink into the pillows and your body deeper into the mattress. Hanako will be in her office taking the call for at least the next hour. Nothing can harm her as long as the night shift guards are stationed at the perimeter of the property. It bores you and dampens your mood to be without her, so you allow yourself to rest, drifting into sleep in the expensive luxury of the mansion. 

. . . .

Embers has never been your favorite excursion to make with Hanako. It’s where she hosts her most important meetings, the place is praised for the credibility of its security, but it’s also where you must be the most careful in hiding the nature of your relationship with Hanako. 

There are very few people who know of your relationship — the chef at her house, he’s known since the beginning, but after you threatened his life all concern you had about his reliability disappeared. You suspect some of the guards at Hanako’s house are aware as well. There have been too many nights of you staying over for them to suspect nothing. But outside of what’s necessary, you and Hanako take every measure to ensure that no one else working for the Arasakas finds out about the two of you — if they found out, the rest of Night City would find out. Hanako would be berated by the media, and you would be targeted by those who wish to eliminate her. 

Embers accentuates all of your concerns. Security cameras are at every corner, and guards are stationed around the building’s entrances. The exclusivity of the club is shoved in your face every time you arrive, it rings in your ears that only the richest and most prosperous of Night City are allowed here. You have no room for error. 

Hanako meets with a client at the bar. You watch from the entrance of the room. The client is a man, one you don’t particularly care for. He’s been involved in experimental tech for the Arasakas for years, but the knowledge doesn’t grant him any of your trust. 

You watch as he becomes looser with a few drinks. He’s still discussing business with Hanako, but more enthusiastically now, and subtle touches and looks imply that not all which occupies his mind is related to finance. Hanako doesn’t seem to notice. 

You’re unable and unauthorized to move as the man keeps flirting with her. Though you’d give anything to pull a gun on him, he poses no threat to Hanako’s safety. You have no move to make. 

You glance at the clock beside the bar. You watch as the seconds tick by, wishing at every turn of a minute that the meeting would finish and you would be able to go home. A sigh escapes you that you’re unable to keep in. Hanako spares you a glance from the bar that you’re unable to read, and when the meeting with the client is finished, she gives you no recognition before leaving and expecting you to follow her as ordered. 

The car ride home is quiet. You ride with Hanako for security. Every so often she gives you a look of expectation. You know she’s aware that you’re upset, but doesn’t know how to ask for what’s wrong. 

“He was a little touchy, wasn’t he?” You ask. The words are bitter on your tongue. “Useless.” 

“He’s giving me a lot of money,” she says simply. Even though you know much of her business workings, Hanako still attempts to keep them private unless asking for your advice. 

“You could get the money elsewhere,” you say. “All of these rich fucks are lining up to be associated with the Arasakas.” 

She shakes her head. “If you think you can do a better job at running my company—”

“No, you seem to do it better than anyone could. You hardly spend a second away from it.” 

Your tone leads her into a brief silence. She’s level headed, but she can’t hide the frustration growing within her. It makes her tense, and part of you wants to reach for her hand, apologize and praise her for her dedication to her work, but you stay firm in your resolve. 

“You know why it has to be this way,” Hanako says. “You know this can never go public. It shouldn’t even be happening.” 

You don’t respond. You know. You know, and it’s the worst part of it all. 

. . . .

When you wake up the next morning, it’s in your own apartment. Exhaustion plagues you, makes you feel sick. 

After your shift yesterday, you had hardly spoken to Hanako. The two of you had parted on terms less than ideal. You’re still disappointed, and you suspect she is too busy to be concerned with you. The thought makes anger swell in your chest. 

You wish you could take days off. Any breaks from your profession are few and far between due to your necessity. As you drive to work you think about how nice it would be, to be able to sleep in for once or go out to dinner on your own. You would have an excuse to be away from Hanako until your anger subsides. 

When you pull into the driveway, Hanako is already waiting for you outside of her estate. She stands with her arms crossed as she leans against the door of the backseat of her car, her driver already in the front. 

“You’re late,” she says as you step out of the car. You check the time. 

“I’m not.” 

Hanako smiles. Without another word she gets in the backseat of the car with the expectation that you get in on the other side. You oblige, though not without dread. You’d been wishing for a quiet morning. 

“Where are we going?” You ask. Hanako doesn’t respond. Annoyance comes over you in a rush. If she’s still pissed at you, you want her to voice it. 

You notice during the drive that Hanako is without her phone. If she has it, she isn’t on it at all. Her gaze is fixed out the window as you venture closer to the edge of Night City. 

After half an hour of driving, the car is parked before a giant glass dome — adrenaline runs through you as you realize where you are. 

“The botanical garden?” You ask. Hanako nods. You get out of the car and take a moment to examine it — the only botanical garden in Night City, and only for the rich. It’s an indoor botanical garden, there are hardly any natural ones anymore. It’s rare to be so close to this much innocent life collected in one place. 

You step into the botanical garden with Hanako. It's empty of people, she’s bought the place out for the day. Trees, vines, flowers, plants you could never have dreamed the appearance of crowd you and pull you deeper into the abyss. The sun shines in through the glass ceiling, and you close your eyes as you lift your face to it, letting yourself be touched by its warmth. 

You open your eyes at the feeling of Hanako taking your hands in her own. She stands before you, the same love in her eyes that makes you feel whole, adored completely and unendingly. 

“I want to spend more time with you,” she tells you. “I know it’s hard on you, that I can’t be there more. That this has to stay private.” 

You nod. You can’t find words in your amazement. 

“I love you,” Hanako says quietly. She gazes down at your hands together. 

You pull her into a kiss — a wordless confirmation of your love, yet it’s there all the same, in every breath you take and in every moment you spend in the joy of her embrace. The life around you breathes into you, promises you her time, her love, the prospect of a future. For once, you are able to let your guard down in her embrace — the sun is your guardian, and burns away shadows of harm in its wrath. 

[spyxfamilyanalysis]

Something I found in Spy x Family Meta community

from crooked-mantis's post

Chapter 90.1 has been haunting me

This is a very speculative thought. And it lacks a lot of hard evidence. If this post doesn't qualify for guidelines I'll remove it myself, but I have been thinking a lot about 'ANIA' and its potential meaning.

Some people have assumed it is an acronym or initialism, given to Anya by the facility that made her 'study'. This would make the mystery presented in this chapter impossible to solve on its own. We can imagine 1,000+ hypothetical word combinations with different meanings, but they would all be guesswork based on context we already have. It wouldn't teach us anything new, so it'd be a poor hint of what's to come.

And I imagine incorporating such a Western system of abbreviation might also feel out of left field for a lot of Japanese readers who are seeing it as アニア [a-ni-a] in 90.1's speech bubble.

Additionally, we already know Anya's lab designation was Test Subject "007". Why would they give her another codename on top of that? It would be a bit excessive. It's more likely that Ania is just her birth name, which the scientists would naturally use for ease of speaking to her and convincing her to cooperate.

It's also worth considering that Anya accepts her name fully. If it were given to her by the people of the facility, I feel like she wouldn't volunteer that name so happily, and without hesitation. Chapter 111 did not confirm it [in English, though I haven't been able to find the Japanese version], but I assume she accepts her name because its likely what her biological mother called her, first and foremost.

So, in short, I'm certain this is not an acronym.

Following that thread of Ania being her given birth name: some have suggested it must be a name derived from classical language, of which Anya has a mysterious proficiency with. And I agree, but not exactly in the same way.

I don't think it's a traditional classic language name. Not to put too much faith in Twilight's encyclopedic brain, but he did not recognize 'Ania' as a real name. He only understood Anya, with a 'y', to be a proper name.

It's like if someone wrote 'Kile' as their name. You'd be certain they were making a mistake, and might correct it as 'Kyle'. Because 'Kile' is so uncommon that I didn't think that was a legitimate spelling anyone had seriously used, until I looked it up just now.

The point is, Ania is likely so non-traditional, that Twilight can't clock it as a legitimate name. And he is a man who has had to memorize thousands upon thousands. Likely those from historical eras as well, given his immense reserves of trivia.

So I don't think 'Ania' stems from the etymology of peoples' names. I think it stems from somewhere suitably unconventional: a place's name.

Ostania

Due, in part, to how it has been automatically translated and surrounded by <>'s in the English manga, I don't know if 'classical language' is a direct analogue to a real Germanic language, or if it's being artificially made up by Endo. But, in the case of the latter, I wouldn't be at all surprised if Ostania and Westalis were country names that originated from the classical language.

Anya's biological mother may have borrowed the nation's suffix [which may carry its own meanings] and tied it to her daughter. For etymological, personal, or political reasons? I can't say for sure. But I feel like this is truly the most likely 'in-universe' source for Anya's original name.

Or at least, it's the one we can actually figure out, given all the information we presently have. And I enjoy a planted mystery much better if you can figure out some parts of it ahead of time.

...Now, if you'll allow me a bit of fun, this line of thinking accidentally led me and a mutual friend of mine to a crack theory, of sorts. I'm not trying to convince anyone of this, but I have unfortunately half-convinced myself. I'm sharing this portion mostly because the thought has been eating at me. To me, this idea is somewhere between a joke and a serious prediction. Take it as you will.

Westalis → 'Alis' → "Alice"

[Image ID: A manga panel from Spy x Family Chapter 8. Twilight narrates that he changed the student groupings to help with the mission. Meanwhile, the students of Cecil House are called forward, the first name is 'Alice Paulet'. The image is edited to underline 'Alice'. /end ID]

Alice Paulet is also first on the roll call in Chapter 26, though it could easily be a repeat of the first list without much thought behind it.

I have no claims for who Alice might be. If she is a character of importance, her origin could be anything. All I'm guessing is that she could serve as a narrative foil for Anya in the future, and I'm keeping an eye out for her name as a result.

Mostly because, at its core, Spy x Family is still a comedy. So I would not be surprised if 'Ost-Anya' and 'West-Alice' was a setup made to be both suitably dramatic, and in the same breath, a dumb pun. May I remind you Endo penned a fake family called 'The Forgers' and made a neighboring family called 'The Authens'?

[ask-waterjade]

🎭 BLOG INTRODUCTION/GUIDELINES

Heya! This account is solely moderated by @coastyreef <- feel free to each out if you have any blog related questions or general inquiries about the artist/owner.

This ask-blog doesn’t particularly follow a series of events or specific storyline, (not yet anyhow…) so the inbox is pretty much a free for all in regard to what interactions you want illustrated. And yes, there will be art attached to every ask given! This may be in the form of comics, doodles, and sometimes even fully colored illustrations.

You may also give directed asks to specific characters… it doesn’t always have to be for the pair together to answer. I call it the ‘ask-waterjade’ blog because the content will always surround Nya and Harumi in some shape or form.

I’m also open to asks for AU versions of Nya and Harumi! If you’re unfamiliar with any of my AU’s but would like some sort of references to those, feel free to ask me below in this post. If there’s enough interest, I’ll make some sort of follow up link with a list of AU’s I’ve created and be willing to continue making content for!

I’ll also be attempting to answer your questions through Nya and Harumi, not as myself (the owner) but I’m also okay with whatever other ninjago characters you may be interested in giving directed asks to. Remember, my universe is not completely adjacent to the canon source, so nearly all the characters within it hold different beliefs and stories to their source counterparts.

🌺 RULES/OVERVIEW!

- Harumi goes by THEY/THEM and Nya goes by HE/SHE. Keep this in mind when you give asks!

- I’d like to keep this a SFW space for the most part, but I’m comfortable enough with answering inbox questions that contain suggestive themes and adult humor. There will never be explicit NSFW content… plus, I will attempt put a warning on every post that may contain inappropriate material.

- Hate askers will be trolled…. So be warned. Any attempt to drag in discourse will be laughed at and you will look silly for wasting your efforts on my harmless, fun little blog.

- Questions must pertain to Nya and Harumi in some way. This can include other characters opinions on the two of them, or situations where they would interact with the rest of the cast!

- Asking multiple questions is appreciated, loved even. No question is too small! I’m not one of those particular peeps who only dig the lore asks, I love ALL asks! So ask away!!!

- I’m less inclined to draw OC requests or other user’s Ninjago designs, but don’t let that scare you away! I may take on those sort of things if I find it interesting enough to include in my blog.

…

This is really all I’ve got for now… we’ll learn and adapt as we go! Thank you so so much any interactions you give, this has been a childhood dream of mine for a long time, and it’s amazing to finally have this opportunity.

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ another love ” : 

﹙ unrequited grim reaper x gn reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 9948e haoyu x gn reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ grim reaper ˖ punk character ﹚

your heart yearned for him. even when his belonged to another. it didn't matter, as long as it was him that you were bleeding for.

﹙ cws ﹚: angst no comfort ˖ unrequited love | wc : 0.8k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: we gotta get some more angst going on this blog </3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

Dioxazine gaze so full of haze, one might have thought the reaper with the pretty eyes was drugged out.

You wrote paragraphs upon poems about it. Endlessly in the night, wishing that was you they looked at.

From the moment that love hit the fan, you knew you were to be buried six feet under. For you had fallen for a grim reaper, who did not have his eyes nor heart for you.

That slow beating heart of his. It beat for only one woman. Worn on his sleeve for Shalika Vaishya.

It was understandable. She was a good woman. WIth a heart of bravery that could spark life into the world. Kindness surrounded her soul and each step taken by the woman was of grace and beauty.

He painted her, sketched her, illustrated her and hid them away. Showing only you the art he made, to make sure it was good enough.

What a cruel fate to be the friend who loves so deeply but for the wrong soul.

One of these days you were going to get in your car and drive away. Slam the door shut so hard it almost shatters the glass of the front door to the steer. So your skin can bleed as hard as your heart.

Hàoyu was one of the most oblivious men you knew. That, or he denied any other feelings of his peers other than the ones that his beloved lotus flower had for him.

Even now as the two of you sat together in his room late into the night, you watch as he gazes out at the garden where Shalika stood. Speaking with his younger sister happily.

“You should be honest with her.”

Flickering, just like the flame, his eyes direct themselves to you. Calm, less flustered. So open to you, but never in the way they’d be her. You saw only a few parts of his soul. She was destined to see the rest.

As a matter of fact, they’d always been soulmates. Childhood friends.

What fool were you to believe his heart was reserved for anyone but you. Who came into his life when she had gone away for who knows what reason. Disappeared for years.

Your bitterness held no bounds, yet everytime she spoke to you, it was hard to hate her.

She was perfect. Benevolent. Creative.

You could go on, and you hated it.

In your lonetime, spent in the depth of lonliness. An ocean that drowns you each time you sink further to the bottomless pit, with no anchor nor rescue in sight. You’ve got so many friends around you. You’d find the right person one day.

. . .

But it wouldn’t be him. It still wouldn’t be him.

You though at times he’d cast a spell on you for the cruelty of it. Yet it was not right to think such way about him either. The innocense of friendship in his eyes told you an entirely different story.

He loved you, he loves you. In a way that stabs thousands of swords through you at once.

But perhaps that was for the best too.

Was being loved by him, regardless of what type of love it was, not good enough already? He staying around, even after he gets with her. It’s guaranteed he would not leave as long as his friends and family are around.

“About how I feel?” His warm voice breaks the fast paced train of thought racing through your head like it’s destination was a million years away.

“Yeah.” Your response is a mere hum, the pretty, fake smile you give him earns a grin in return. He truly must not see what you feel for him. So easily convinced you’re feeling alright.

“Tell her you still love her. Tell her you don’t want to play anymore games. Just do it.”

Why did he curl his eyebrows by the end of your sentence? You said the truth. He should just do it.

What trace was there for you to see that you had sounded so passive agressive by the end of your encouraging speech.

“Are you okay?” He asks, leaning to the side. His long black hair curtaining his right shoulder.

With a shrug, and a small smile. Looking back at him with concern.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Said so casually, as if you didn’t hurt in the slightest.

If tears of blood were possible to cry, your face would be stained red long ago and flowers would have grown through your lungs. Clogging them like they never had to suffocate you on the sweet nectar you couldn’t share with the other part.

O’ one sided loves. My heart bleeds and barely beats.

O’ one sided loves. I’ve met the end of my disease, this will surely be my deafeat.

Cruelty world has done upon my soul Carve it out and cast it to the river

Let it wash away, and be one with the stream of tears.

Water the anemones and the asphodels be the fruit to the roots, that my heart could not in the years of youth.

﹙ taglist. ﹚: | get tagged for specific posts

﹙ tip jar. ﹚: like our work? consider suporting us 𖹭 

[upat4amwiththemoon]

I havé no idea if I asked this already but if I did I apologize😭 Could you do a villanelle x readers where the reader already has a child from a previous relationship please?

A package deal

Summary: It’s either both of us or neither of us.

Pairing: Villanelle x fem!reader, fem!reader x daughter

Warnings: none

Word count: 667

a/n: short and sweet

Tags: @sayah13

masterlists | guidelines

“Are you excited to meet her, bubs?” Y/N smiles to the small girl of five she is holding on her hip as she walks down the busy street.

The small child holds onto Y/N’s shoulder, her eyes wandering around all the different people walking past them. She’s always been curious about her surroundings. “Yes, mama.”

She lets out a shaky breath, giving her daughter a small smile. She’s glad to see her happy and clearly more confident than she is feeling. Y/N is absolutely terrified. Villanelle knows she has a daughter, she’s more worried about her changing her mind, deciding that raising her girlfriend’s daughter would be too much.

“Okay, bubs.” Y/N slows down her steps as she sees the right cafe in front of her. “Do you think Villanelle is already there? Maybe she’s just as nervous as us.” She’s glad she can use her daughter as an excuse to talk things through out loud.

The small bell rings when Y/N opens the door. It’s a small family owned cafe, one filled with books and flowers.

“There she is.” She whispers, pointing at the blonde sitting at the corner table. Taking a one last deep breath, “let’s go,” she walks to the table. “Hi, honey.”

Villanelle stands up the instant she hears Y/N’s voice. “Hi.” Her eyes are wide, moving between her girlfriend and the small girl in her arms. “Hey, should- should I hug you?” Her already strong accent is even stronger now.

With a giggle, Y/N sets her daughter down on a chair, pulling Villanelle into a short but warm embrace. Then she lifts the girl again, “this is Villanelle. Remember when I told you about her, bubs? She’s mama’s girlfriend.”

“Hi, ‘nelle.”

Somehow Villanelle’s eyes widens even more, and a bright smile grows on her face. “Hey. Aren’t you a cute one?” She takes hold of her small hand, giving it a shake.

“Mhm.” The girl giggles, kicking her feet in the air.

Y/N smiles as they all sit down. “I already ordered.” Villanelle states from the lack of drink menus. “I hope that’s okay. I know what you like, and you- you’ve told what your kid likes so…so I ordered for her too. We can order something else if she ends up not liking it-“

“Villanelle.” Y/N reaches over the table, taking hold of the woman’s hand. She finds her nervousness endearing, especially since Villanelle is usually the confident one. “It’s okay, I trust you to order for us.” She giggles.

She lets out a breath. Of relief most likely, but she’ll never admit to being nervous. “Mama loves you.” The small girl speaks up after their food and drinks have been brought over.

“I love your mama too.”

Giggling, she looks up at Y/N. “I love mama too.”

Y/N gasps, nuzzling her nose against her daughter’s cheek. “And I love you.” She murmurs, her gaze moving between her daughter and girlfriend. “You know we’re a package deal, right?” She gives her daughter a colouring book with some crayons to keep her occupied while she has a more serious conversation.

“I know that.”

“If you don’t want to be part of her life, if you don’t like her or if she doesn’t like you, if you hurt her in any way…I’m out.” Villanelle listens to her words in silence. “I will trust her word over yours, because I will not allow my daughter to grow up in fear.”

“I know.”

Y/N swallows, tapping her nails against the table lightly. “So what does that mean to you?”

“It means you’re a great mother,” she takes hold of her hand, “and I would love to be part of your family.”

A smile grows on her face. Y/N squeezes her hand, giggling when a third, smaller hand joins the pile. Her daughter starts giggling too, it’s full of joy, and it’s just the sign that Y/N needs to know this’ll work.

[olderthannetfic]

This NaNoWriMo stuff with AI is largely unsurprising to me. I don't know how many people have gone beyond reading the viral clipped out bit about classism and ableism, but there was a follow up statement on that, in which they claim to take a very neutral stance. That their initial intent was apparently trying to curtail harassment of those who are using AI and they at least apologized for their confusing and unthoughtful wording of their original statement. Which seems legitimate enough to me. I'm sure they are sorry, considering the swift and unforgiving backlash they received. What I find kind of bizarre about this whole thing is, like, if you are running an event surrounding writing and making guidelines for what is and isn't okay in general-- then wouldn't it be a perfectly reasonable addition, to set out some level of encouraged practices for how one should or shouldn't use AI for during said event. Guidelines that are encouraged, that follow what everyone believes to be the spirit of the event (sitting down and actually writing a little every day for a month) would seem like a perfectly reasonable thing to do, to me. Like, am I off base here? With the rise in AI this seems like the natural progression. Even if only in spirit, not allowing generated works specifically seems like it would be a completely understandable guideline that keeps the event fair to those trying to do it the way it's meant to be done. And if you wanted to be neutral about it, it could be presented alongside a more lax policy around using AI to say, generate a plot bunny when experiencing writers block or create names for places/characters. People have been using tools like that for ages so there's precedent to allow "thoughtful" use of AI for these purposes. Anything at all, even if it can't be completely enforced, seems like it would have been better. The random endorsement of AI for people in certain circumstances from their follow up statement, and how it can be life changing, if one were to take their meaning in the most charitable way possible, does not feel like it's on topic here. Like, all this effort to be "neutral" on their part is not really coming across that way it's all just so damn clumsy. I try to always assume positive intent, not attributing to maliciousness (such as capital gain at the expense of creatives, which is one of the major problems with AI generated work) what can be better explained by ignorance, but even taking all that they've said in such a fashion, it largely feels like they didn't want people arguing about AI but also didn't want to have to make rules around AI that they would then have to, even if only in spirit, enforce. I can sort of understand that, considering it would be (most likely) impossible for them to differentiate between generated work and stuff that was written by a person. But again. They could have just said that it wouldn't be possible for them to police AI usage, blah blah blah, honor system (which again is already part of how NaNo works-- an honor system) but that targeted harassment campaigns of individuals for any reason would not be allowed within these spaces, up to and including suspected use of AI. Like there were so many different ways this could have been approached to accomplish what their stated goal was. Without??? Accidentally taking a very strange and not well thought out direct stance on AI that they later had to halfway walk back and apologize for. I don't think NaNoWriMo ever intended the message to be "We allow AI generated works now" (unless there's something I missed) -- That's not explicitly something they said, but rather the at large and reactionary interpretation of it. Now, I just have to wonder, what the hell happened to their September update post from last week, that was apparently addressing other issues. One thing I'll say for this whole mess, is it's at least amusing to watch the absurdity of their slow motion collapse hitting the speedrun stage toward total implosion. The org has had major internal problems for years now.

--

Honestly, I think the reaction is at least as much about longstanding issues with the organization as about people's fears of AI. Poorly thought out corporate idiocy feels in-character.

[cy-cyborg]

Disability 101: The language of Disability

Trigger Warning: this post contains discussions of disability slurs (specifically the C and R slurs), and the history of disabled people's use in medical experimentation, including specific (but brief) examples.

Most of the content on my blog is aimed specifically at authors, artists and other creatives, but I've been noticing for a while now, that many of the people who come here to learn about writing and designing better and more compassionate disabled representation are often missing what I would consider to be pretty fundamental knowledge of the disabled community, or have gotten said information from a questionable source, for example, through corporate sensitivity training, who's given them just straight-up incorrect information. This isn't surprising, nor is it really the fault of the people seeking to learn more, rather, it's because of the way society at large talks about (or I suppose, doesn't talk about) disability. However this lack of foundational understanding often leads to creators accidentally including harmful tropes, using damaging or unnecessarily coded language or just including misinformation about our community into their works, often in ways that are quite hard to change by the time they realise there's an issue.

But before we continue:

The disability community is massive and we have a lot of history most people are totally unaware of which influences a lot of these fundamentals. It doesn't help that there are a lot of "allies" to our community who completely ignore and speak over us, many of whom have bigger platforms that actual disabled people, so their advice is seen and shared by more people, muddying the waters even further and making it difficult to discern what is and isn't "good information". Because of that, I understand that it can be hard to know where to start, so while most of my content is dedicated to specifically talking about disability representation in media, and how creators can include better representation in their own works, I also want to take some time to talk about some of the fundamental information about the disabled community I feel everyone (creator or not) should know.

Today I'm going to start on what I think trips people up the most when they're first trying to learn: The language surrounding disability. What terms we (generally) prefer, what terms to avoid, all that. I don't think this is necessarily the most important thing to know right off the bat, but it is probably one of the topics non-disabled people are the most confidently incorrect about, and where general misinformation is the most rampant.

Disclaimer: Before we go ahead, it's important to remember that the disabled community is not a monolith, especially so when we are talking about something like language and preferred terms. This post is designed to be a starting off point, not a rigid set of rules or all-encompassing guide. Different individuals may prefer different terms, possibly even ones listed in this article as words to avoid. Articles like this should always be taken as a general guideline but you should always be respectful of an individual's preference and refer to them how they have asked you to refer to them, even if it goes against general advice you've been given. However, it's important to bear in mind that just because that individual has a preference for a less popular term or even a term others find offensive, doesn't mean every disabled person is ok with it. It's also important to consider that different communities, cultures and countries, as well as people who speak different languages or even dialects of the same language, will have different general preferences, and so it is crucial to do further research on your own.

Disability and disabled are not dirty Words, it's ok to say it

If you grew up in the 1990's or later, like I did, you very likely heard words like "special needs," "differently-abled," "Special education" (often shortened to SPED). There's a very good chance that if you worked in education, healthcare (especially for children), with some disability charities or even if you were the parent of a disabled kid during this time, you were likely told to use these terms as a replacement for words like disabled, because "disability" and specific terms like "autism," "amputee," "downs syndrome," "paraplegic," etc put the focus on the things the person doesn't have or can't do. Calling them "disabled" implies there is something wrong with them, whereas these alternatives put a focus on the idea that folks with these conditions are "different, not less". At least, that's what a lot of people are told.

This is what we call coded language, and it's an issue because a lot of disabled people despise it. There are exceptions, of course, I know a few people who are indifferent, but I honestly can't recall anyone who was disabled themselves who preferred it outside of very young children who's parents insisted it was better (though most chose to move away from it as they got older).

But why? well, because of something that I'm sure you'll notice is going to be a pattern throughout this post: we didn't create these terms, and they weren't made for us, not really.

Most disabled people don't really see using the term "disabled" or any of the modern diagnostic terms (for the most part) as an issue. Yes, many do, by definition, focus on things we don't have, can't do or might struggle with; the definition of an amputee is someone who is missing a limb, the definition of paraplegia is someone who has paralysis in their lower body and legs, meaning they might not be able to or might struggle to move them. The definition of a disability is a little more complex and varies from country to country, but the American CDC defines it as "Any condition of the body or mind that makes it more difficult for the person with the condition to do certain activities and interact with the world around them."

These definitions sound negative, but it's not a bad thing to acknowledge someone doesn't have something most other people possess, or struggles with things others don't. It doesn't make someone "less" to acknowledge they have a barrier others don't. It's just acknowledging a part of our lived experience and acknowledging that our lives, because of these barriers, can sometimes look different, in both big and small ways.

However, a lot of people who are not used to being around disabled people get deeply uncomfortable with this, and this refusal to use straight-forward words like disabled is a symptom of that. This discomfort comes, in my experience, from a lack of understanding of disability as a whole, and potentially misplaced sympathy. They don't know how we do things they see as important, how we could do without the things they have, or what technology or services is available to help us bridge those gaps. This unknown makes a lot of non-disabled people scared, uncomfortable or makes them sad for us, even when it's not necessary. They see that we can't do something they can, like move our legs for example, and make a series of assumptions based on incomplete information. They imagine a life like ours and don't know how it could possibly be fulfilling, because they are missing so many vitally important pieces of information, making our lives look empty, bland and sad.

They don't have the full picture, but ironically, this discomfort stops them from learning more. If you go into a topic like this, assuming it will be depressing and bleak, why would you want to double check? For many, the fact that it doesn't take much for them to become disabled too adds to that feeling of discomfort and fear, so they turn away and try to pretend we're just "different" and insist on replacing the "scary" words that acknowledge the challenges and barriers they too will have to face if they become like us with things that comfort themselves, not us.

All of this is especially important to remember in the cases of disabled people who are severely limited by their disabilities (whether it be due to the disability itself, or the lack of accommodations for it) and who's disabilities do have negative impacts on their lives. It's important to acknowledge that for some of us, the negative stigma around our disabilities is mostly misinformation and an incomplete picture, like I mentioned before, that altering how something is done or approaching things differently can completely remove those barriers for some of us (e.g. like building ramps instead of stairs), but it won't for everyone. terms like "differently abled" completely ignore and dismiss the experiences of this part of the community, all they do is remind the person that you are uncomfortable acknowledging what they are dealing with. "disabled" on the other hand is inclusive of us both.

Person-first vs Identity-first language

Another aspect of the language surrounding disability that causes confusion in a lot of non-disabled people is whether or not you should be using person-first or identity-first language.

Person-first is where you put the person before the name of the disability, for example "Person with a disability," "Person with autism," "person with amputations," etc. Identity-first language, on the other hand, is where you put the person's disabled identity first, so "disabled person," or in the case of some disabilities, you might drop the need to say person at all, so it would be "autistic" and "amputee".

Unlike the last section, the answer to which one you should be using varies a lot on who you ask, and both types of language have their own benefits.

Person-First

Chances are, if you've done any kind of work that would have put you into contact with disabled people in the last few decades or so, you were instructed to use person-first language. weather you are a journalist, a doctor, an educator, a government employee, or were part of many, many other industries, chances are that you were taught to use it.

The reason for this is that, before the introduction and widespread use of person-first language to describe disability, non-disabled people were much less kind in how they spoke about us. Many people openly used slurs, even in formal settings, or referred to us (individually) as "the disabled," "the wheelchair," "the blind," "the downs syndrome," etc. e.g. "the wheelchair over there asked for assistance," or "I'm seeing the downs syndrome at 3pm."

This was especially prevalent in the medical field, with healthcare professionals often exclusively referring to their patients in this (or similar) ways, refusing to acknowledge their personhood, the value of their lives or their lived experiences beyond their disabilities. The medical field often mistreated and abused disabled patients, and before the introduction of laws protecting the rights of disabled people, this was not only completely legal to do, but was sometimes encouraged. On top of general mistreatment, disabled people, specifically, those being kept in mental institutions, asylums, and other places dedicated to their "care" (or containment) were often used as human test subjects.

There are countless examples throughout history, such as when Dr Henry Heiman infected two boys with gonorrhoea without their consent or the consent of their parents in New York in 1895, one of whom was only four years old with epilepsy and the other was 16 years old with unspecified intellectual disabilities. Dr Thomas Francis infected multiple disabled individuals with influenza in 1941, and George L. Fitch who infected six children under 12 living in the "Hawaiian Leper Colony" with what he thought was Syphilis in 1833. The personhood of the victims of these studies were often ignored or downplayed, so it's not too surprising then, that when the disabled community was finally able to start pushing back against their mistreatment in the late 1900's (The specific decade varies depending on which country you're talking about), they advocated for language that put their humanity and personhood first and foremost, making it much harder for people to forget that they were, in fact, still people and deserved to be treated as such.

Today, person-first is still preferred by parts of the community who still face more dehumanisation than most in the disabled community. for example, it's still very popular among people with downs syndrome. Of course, generalisations are just that: generalisations. There are many people with disabilities who experience very extreme dehumanisations, and still prefer not to use person-first, and vice versa.

There are also a number of disabilities that simply don't have names that work using identity-first language for grammatical reasons, such as people with ADHD (though some online communities use "ADHDers" in more informal settings) or people with BPD. Most often these are the disabilities who's names are acronyms, and so person-first is still used, but more out of necessity than genuine preference.

Identity-First

Identity first isn't technically newer than person-first language, but it's use, and it's name, has changed connotations recently as it has begun to become popular in parts of the community.

You see, for some people, their disabilities are an important part of their sense of self, or at the very least, their disabilities are so impactful on their lives, for better or worse, that they feel like they would be a completely different person without them. This is what we mean when we talk about disability as an identity, and what we mean when we say identity-first.

For some folks who prefer identity-first language, they feel like person-first is trying to distance them from their disability, often for the comfort of non-disabled people. It makes a disability sound like something you carry with you and that you could simply leave at the door if you could, not an important part of yourself. It sounds as strange as saying "A person with creativity" as opposed to "a creative person" or, to compare it to another identity of my own, "a person with gayness" instead of "a gay person".

This particular reason is popular among communities such as some parts of the autistic community, as autism impacts their brain, their personality, their interests, the way they communicate with others and more. If they were suddenly "cured" of their autism, they would be totally different people, and so they feel "autistic" is a better descriptor, as they simply can't be separated from their disability. It's a part of what makes them who they are. This is also popular among people born with their disabilities who have only ever known life that way, or those who have had their disabilities for a long time. Their disability, weather directly (such as autism) or indirectly (due to how people treat them, what opportunities or lack there of were available to them, the people they interacted with, etc) has impacted them so much that, once again, if they weren't disabled, they would have become a wholly different person.

Some prefer identity-first because they feel that they should not have to remind others that they are people. They feel it is unnecessary, and that if you need to be constantly reminded that any group of people you don't belong to are still people just because they are different to you, that's honestly just concerning. And then there are some in the community, who just prefer it because it's usually shorter and easier to say.

There's also a lot of people who don't really care either way. Personally, I fall into this category for the most part, as do most people I know. while I do lean more towards identity-first because it's easier to write and say, and because I agree, I think we as a society shouldn't need to be reminded of anyone's personhood so frequently in 2024, I also recognise that unfortunately, some people do still need that reminder.

It's important to note, that calling someone "the wheelchair," "the disabled," "The autistic," etc is not identity-first language, it's typically under the categorisation of objectifying language and you'll be hard-pressed to find anyone who likes or prefers that. Using identity-first language for these disabilities might look like, "Wheelchair user," "autistic/disabled person" or "that person is disabled/autistic". A good rule-of-thumb is to just avoid using "the" when referring to individuals or even groups of people (e.g. the disabled, the elderly, the gays etc).

Slurs

I also want to talk about slurs briefly. A slur, in this context, is defined by Merriam Webster as "an insulting or disparaging remark or innuendo," though it is often used specifically when referring to words of particularly strong impact, often with a lot of history behind why they have that impact.

For the disability community, many (though not all) of our slurs are somewhat unique, in that they were once considered medical diagnoses. While a lot of people do make this argument disingenuously, I do believe there are some people who are genuinely confused about this, which is why I quickly want to bring it up.

Words like "cripple," "retard," and many, many more I am not comfortable saying for a variety of reasons, all started as actual diagnoses. In fact, several of the sources I used even use them in this way, such as the sites and books I found talking about the two boys Henry Heinman infected almost always referring to them as being "mentally retarded" or "experiencing mental retardation".

I've talked about "cripple" specifically in detail before, but in all of these cases, the word went from a neutral descriptor (at least, in theory) to something that was used in increasingly negative ways, both by the medical professionals diagnosing people with these terms, and the general public. In medical settings, these words were often used to justify the horrible treatment directed at people with disabilities (Like we discussed before), and even after protections were put into place, the language kept its associations. In the general public, these words started being used as insults directly, both directed at disabled people and in general. If you went to school in the 2000's, you probably heard "retard" being used as an insult on the playground as a replacement for stupid or ridiculous. You can see how, when a whole generation starts associating a diagnosis with "ridiculous" it starts to become an issue. This would then feed back into how the terms were used medically. As much as we'd like to think of doctors and healthcare professionals as being unaffected by cultural norms, history has proven time and time again that this was not the case. If you'd grown up hearing a real diagnosis as a synonym for an insult, it's not going to make your opinion of the patients you're giving that title to particularly positive unless you're going to spend a lot of time deconstructing those implications, which, in my experience, many do not.

So yes, even though these might have been acceptable terms once, their use in overwhelmingly negative ways has caused a lot of disabled people to become deeply uncomfortable with them, and they have since been deemed slurs.

Of course, not every slur related to disability came from outdated diagnostic terms. The M-slur used against little people, for example, originated during the times where little people's only option for employment was in freak-shows and other demeaning rolls, such as being kept as pets by nobility. The M-slur was used to compare them to a type of small, annoying fly, a midge, as a way to further humiliate and dehumanise them.

There have been movements that attempted or are currently in the process of reclaiming some of these slurs, with notable examples like the "cripplepunk" community for physically disabled people (They do, however, ask that able-bodied people call the movement "c-punk" instead). Though other words like "retard" are more debated, and many people with intellectual and cognitive disabilities (who the slur was usually directed at) feel it is too early to start that process, or feel it should not be reclaimed at all. At the end of the day, it is the people with the disabilities impacted by these terms who get to decide if, how and when a slur is reclaimed, not outside forces and wider society.

Focusing back in on authors and creatives for a moment, if you're writing a disabled character, but you yourself are not disabled, I'd highly recommend against using slurs in your work, even if your character is part of the community that could reclaim it. Even if you are disabled in that same way, I'd recommend caution. I often call myself a cripple in a joking light, but I probably will never feel comfortable including it in any of my work (outside articles like this where we're discussing it, of course). If you really, really must include these slurs, make sure to get input from others in the community.

Outgroup Terms

Finally, one last thing I want to bring up is in reference to the "outgroup terms" disabled people use for people without a disability.

A very common misconception is that if you aren't disabled, you're able-bodied, but this isn't true! Able-bodied (sometimes shortened to A.B.) refers to people without physical disabilities specifically, so you can be able-bodied but still have an intellectual disability or some kind of neurodivergence like autism, dyslexia, or schizophrenia. Likewise, you can be neurotypical - the word for people who aren't neurodivergent - and physically disabled.

If you want to refer to people without any disabilities at all, the most common way to do that, and the term I've been using throughout this post, is just non-disabled. Some people also use the term "abled" but this isn't as widely agreed upon, as many people assume it's just a shortened version of able-bodied.

Conclusion

As I said in the beginning, this post is meant to just be a general guide, not hard and fast rules. The disabled community isn't a monolith, and we don't agree on everything and that's ok. Different people and groups will have different preferences and that's ok too. If you're an outsider to the community and you aren't sure what words or terms to use, just ask (so long as you're polite about it and/or it's relevant to the conversation at hand, it's fine) but always respect an individual's preference over a generic piece of advice like this post. Under no circumstances should you ever correct a disabled person on how they refer to themselves and their own community. If they refer to themselves as disabled, that's great. If they call themselves, a person with a disability, also great! I can not tell you how many non-disabled people who have told me I am "disrespecting myself" for calling myself an amputee, autistic or disabled.

At the end of the day, how any individual wishes to refer to themselves is their choice, but for creatives, especially those of you writing disabled characters as a non-disabled person, it's important to be aware of the reception and implications different words may have with your audience.

[Thumbnail ID: An image of overlapping speech bubbles on a blue background containing several terms, ranging from commonly accepted to offensive, used to refer to disabled people. Some of the more easily visible bubbles say things like "differently abled," "Disabled," "Special Needs," "Person With a Disability," "Special," "Slow" and many more. In the centre, the biggest bubble says "Disability 101: The Language of Disability." /End ID]