#they’re saying the same things but in different languages

[miyamiwu]

The examples in the notes are all very valid. But as someone who speaks two languages that are closely related, the scenario above is actually not that unrealistic. In fact, it can even happen a lot.

My mother tongue is Cebuano (aka Bisaya), but I’m living in the capital where everybody speaks Filipino/Tagalog, the national language of the Philippines. (To any Filos reading this: I know there’s a difference between Filipino and Tagalog, but to avoid confusion, I’m gonna refer to the language as Tagalog from now on)

Cebuano and Tagalog are distinct from each other, but since they are both Philippine languages they have an overlap in their vocabularies. Sometimes, the two have the exact same words for certain things. Other times the word is just spelled or pronounced slightly differently.

So when I suddenly use a Cebuano word while speaking in Tagalog, its because I have thought that that word also exists in Tagalog.

Example:

While at a fruit stall: “Magkano ‘tong lemoncito?” (How much is this lemoncito?)

Lemoncito is the Cebuano word for this citrus fruit:

The word has Spanish origins (the country was colonized by Spain for over 300 years), and it literally means “little lemon.”

I thought the Tagalogs also have lemoncito in their vocabulary because it’s not like the word is inherently Cebuano. It was only when the fruit seller looked at me in confusion and asked me to clarify what I said that I realized that they, in fact, do not have that word. Their word for lemoncito is only calamansi.

Example 2:

While sharing an anecdote about our rooms in the house: “Sa pikas na kwarto” (“In the other room”)

sa, na, and kwarto are words that exist in both Cebuano and Tagalog.

However, pikas (“other”) is a Cebuano-only word. The Tagalog word for it is kabila.

This time, I knew pikas does not exist in Tagalog. But I was speaking too fast and the words were just flowing out. I didn’t even realize I had codeswitched until people asked me to stop and explain.

Now, the most extreme example:

In a Discord DM: Explaining something long and complicated in Cebuano to a friend who only knows Tagalog 🥲

Yes, it has happened before. It just felt so natural while I was doing it that it was only when I finished typing everything and looked back at what I wrote that I fucking remembered that my friend doesn’t understand Cebuano 😭

I had to delete everything before she could read it because holy fuck that was embarrassing

Codeswitching one or two words? Still acceptable. Writing a long-ass rant in entirely Cebuano despite knowing I won’t be understood? I had no idea what came over me...

Some more words which I suddenly codeswitch to unintentionally: (Cebuano words are violet, while Tagalog words are orange)

To eat: kaon instead of kain

To write: suwat instead of sulat

Dipper: kabo instead of tabo

the color black: itom instead of itim

The words above only vary in spelling a little, so it’s easy to forget that they’re actually from two different languages, and hence, the codeswitching.

Now, this one is not really codeswitching, but it’s still related…

Conjugating Verbs

[Context: Cebuano and Tagalog both conjugate verbs by aspect (fabric of time), which is in contrast to English that conjugates by tense (location in time).

But I’m not gonna go too deeply in that, so for now I’ll just use the term “tense” to avoid confusion.]

In Cebuano, the present tense form of a verb is made by adding the prefix “nag-” to the root word. However, this way of conjugation coincides with the Tagalog rule of conjugation for past tense.

And so, we get this mess:

Cebuano: “I am writing” -> “nagsuwat ko”

Tagalog: “I wrote” -> “nagsulat ako”

The present form of a Tagalog verb requires that you also repeat the first syllable.

Tagalog (present): “I am writing” -> “nagsusulat ako”

Many times, I mean to say something in the present tense (“I am writing/nagsusulat ako”) but I end up talking in past tense (“I wrote/nagsulat ako”) without even realizing it. It’s like I would subconsciously apply the Cebuano rules (nagsuwat -> nagsulat) instead of the Tagalog ones when conjugating verbs...

So yeah, switching to a different language is actually not that weird when the two languages are closely related to each other.

[milktiicup]

H-h-hey.. senpai… I was wondering if you could make more about Mr Crawling! (I LOVEDDD YOUR PREVIOUS FAN FIC ABT HIM) because he’s such a cutie tbh and I love him sm so I was wondering maybe if you could make something about how he would react to the reader spending more time with someone else (coworker preferably!)

Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this..!

(Can I be 🦁 anon?)

the jealous type!

His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ omg my first anon >.< ofc u can be 🦁 anon!!!!

warnings. more fluff/comfort hehe, spoilers for end04

It’s late when you return home. If it was any other day, you’d be scheming around the streets with your crowbar- but life is different now. 

You have a commitment at home. Your new roommate… boyfriend? thing. It’s almost as routine as having a pet; coming home, giving him a pat on the head, giving him his completely normal legally obtained soup and ending the day snuggled up on the sofa with him at your feet. 

Sure, he’s the one who came with you all the way from that other world and didn’t have any friends here, but does that mean you can’t? It’s not like you could bring Mr. Crawling with you to work, or after work drinks with your coworkers. Normal people can still see him, after all. He’s just… a little hard for other people to notice- you picked up on that when your parents dropped by on an impromptu visit one evening.

When you kick your shoes off when you come in through the front door, you feel guilty. You can tell he’s a bit down- of course, Mr. Crawling still tackled greeted you with his overzealous, unnecessarily over the top hug. 

“You return!” he says, every time without fail. 

“I return,” you reply, petting his head, but something feels off. He doesn’t let go immediately, and his usual enthusiasm is muted.

Mr. Crawling pauses, his face stuffed into your neck. You quirk a brow, curiously eyeing him as he takes a big sniff of your skin and clothes. His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”

Is he the jealous type? Wow, and since when was his sense of smell so good?

“You can smell my friend?” you blink at him, cringing as you feel a knot in your stomach. You try to explain, “Uhm… someone else… uhhhh… my friend.”

“Other friend?” Mr. Crawling frowns, sitting back on his feet, the space between you growing slightly colder.

You pull yourself up from the floor, careful to meet his uncertain gaze. “Other friend,” you confirm.

“Friend… same me?”

You sigh, wishing this language was more descriptive. It’s hard to explain something so complex when neither of you really understands it fully. You tap your fingers nervously against your leg, thinking. “I don’t understand…” you sigh, the weight of the misunderstanding settling on you. “They’re human.”

Mr. Crawling’s frown only grows deeper. He shakes his head, and scoots himself closer to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, his hair falling over the both of you as if trying to shield you from everything outside of your house. “Friend like this?” 

Resting your head on his shoulder, you let out a content sigh. “Not like this, Crawling.”

“You one. You me two. Not like three.” His grip tightens around you, pulling you as close as he possibly can, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “Me like you. Worry… not like me. Gone long time… Smell someone else.”

You pull back slightly, feeling the pressure of his arms around you. He’s not just possessive, he’s scared. You stretch your arms out. “Like you. Big like. See? This much!” You hold your hands closer together, parallel to each other. “Friend ok. Little like. Understand?”

You chuckle lightly, but the soft pang in your chest makes you pause. “You get it now, Crawling?” you mumble. You reach up and scratch his head absently, a familiar gesture that seems to soothe both of you. “Uhm… when I leave, I go to work. You know work, right?” He nuzzles into your palm, and you just assume he does, for the time being. “Work friend! Not important. You important. You, uh… you understand me?”

“Me understand,” he murmurs into your palm, his cool lips tickling the skin. “Smell bad… Me only like you. You smell good."

"I know you like me, Crawling. I like you, too."

He lets out a satisfied hum, his body relaxing again, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he’s truly getting it—or if he just likes the idea of being yours as much as you like the idea of him being yours. He pulls your head closer to his chest, and that’s when you decide you don’t really need to build rapport with your coworkers that much, not when you have a cute ghost waiting for you back at home.

[mightyflamethrower]

Democratic strategist and CNN contributor Julie Roginsky said Thursday on CNN’s “Newsroom” that her party cannot speak to “normal people,” stating that it was “not the party of common sense.”

Roginsky said, “You know, I’m going to speak some hard truths to my friends in the Democratic Party. This is not Joe Biden’s fault. It’s not Kamala Harris fault. It’s not Barack Obama’s fault. It is the fault of the Democratic Party in not knowing how to communicate effectively to voters. We are not the party of common sense, which is the message that voters sent to us. For a number of reasons, for a number of reasons, we don’t know how to speak to voters.

When we address Latinos — and language, and language has meaning — we address Latino voters. as Latinx, for instance, because that’s the politically correct thing to do, it makes them think that we don’t even live on the same planet as they do.

When we are too afraid to say that, ‘Hey, college kids, if you’re trashing a campus of Columbia University because you aren’t happy about some sort of policy and you’re taking over a university and you’re trashing it and preventing other students from learning that that is unacceptable.’ But we’re so worried about alienating one or another cohort in our coalition that we don’t know what to say.”

She continued, “When normal people look at that and say, ‘Wait a second, I send my kids to college so they can learn, not so that they can burn buildings and trash lawns,’ right? And so on and so forth. When we put pronouns after names and say she/her, as opposed to saying, you know what, if I call you by the wrong pronoun, call me out, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” but stop with the virtue signaling and just speak to people like they’re normal. There’s nothing I’m going to say to Shermichael, that I’m not going to say to you, that I’m not going to say to somebody else. I speak the same language to everybody. But that’s not what Democrats do. We constantly try to parse out different ways of speaking to different cohorts because our focus groups or our polling shows that so-and-so appeals to such and such. That’s not how normal people think. It’s not common sense. And we need to start being the party of common sense again.”

Sounds like a few dems got the message. If you think a man can go home at noon, switch from boxers to panties, and come back to work as a real women most people, especially men, are going to think you are nucking futz. They certainly aren't going to vote for you.

[intothedysphoria]

Steve is awoken at like 3 in the morning by an incessant pounding on the door.

He shuffles into his slippers and pads down the stairs, baseball bat in hand just in case.

At the door is a weary, dishevelled Billy Hargrove who looks like he’s on the verge of collapse.

Steve, alarmed ushers him in.

Sara Harrington, who was never exactly the heaviest sleeper, is already downstairs, peering at Billy with concern.

She leans down to his level, already splayed across the couch and makes a halting attempt at the language she hates so much.

Billy, shockingly, responds in imperfect but recognisable Yiddish before passing out.

Sara’s response is both deeply troubled but also has undercurrents of relief woven in.

“You never told me you found a Jewish friend.”

Well, friend is a stretch and Steve had no idea until about 5 seconds ago that Billy was anything but Irish Catholic.

Joshua finds out three hours later, when he wakes up to find a boy he doesn’t know at his dining table.

That makes Billy freeze, hairs standing on end in the middle of reaching for a pastry.

He only relaxes again when Steve’s dad makes a terrible joke about breakfast food and sits down, completely unfazed.

Steve manages to park himself right next to Billy, frantically whispering as he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on.

Billy’s response is a shrugged “dad found out I still practiced and kicked me out”, as if that isn’t one of the most horrific things Steve has ever heard.

Billy joins them for Shabbat that evening, as it’s a Friday. It’s clear he’s the real deal and that leaves Steve’s head swimming with questions. Why the fuck did a man so obviously bigoted marry a Jewish woman?

They smoke together peacefully on Steve’s driveway, Billy blowing out a long billow of smoke up into the night sky. He shifts slightly closer to Steve. Almost looking like he might reach out but then moves away.

Billy moves in permanently with the Byers. Steve sees him frequently at Temple, bantering with the Rabbi. It’s weird but seeing him in this environment, Steve could never picture him anywhere else.

Steves not got a crush or anything. He just daydreams about kissing Billy after he gets back from Rosh Hashana services. Normal guy stuff.

One night Billy climbs through his window. He just wants someone to talk to. Joshua and Sara are out on a business trip so Steve puts on Bronski Beat and they dance. Sensual. Steve’s head is on a fairground ride.

He’s pretty sure Billy leans in quickly to peck him on the lips but it’s so brief it might have been a dream.

It all kind of snowballs from there.

Certainly in terms of pseudo (?) romance. Which Steve isn’t complaining about

Steve thinks he may be sleepwalking. He flips through pamphlets about coming out and all of them inevitably point the same flashing arrow straight to him.

There’s a lump in his throat when he comes out to his parents. They’re so supportive, almost aggressively so and it makes Steve’s heart swell.

Coming out to Billy is a different kettle of fish. Steves fully aware that he’s obfuscating the matter, especially with the way he’ll lean into Billy’s touch but it’s just scary. Terrifying really.

Eventually though, he concedes.

Billy’s managed to get him into the backseat of the Camaro. It’s nowhere near as x rated as particularly Robin was expecting, more just second base. Something like that.

Steve finally manages to break away from the kiss and declare “I think I’m gay”.

Billy’s face says no shit but he’s not a dick about it. Instead, he motions for Steve to go on.

There’s a lot of cliches Steve could use. A fuck ton. But he keeps it brief.

He mumbles that he loves Billy and waits for the other shoe to drop.

It never does. Not really.

Billy just says it back. And they carry on.

This isn’t quite a Pesach or Chanukah fic but tysm @kallisto-k and @slime-hoe for your lovely comments, I hope this Jewish Harringrove is ok

@shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 @oopsiedaisiesbaby @harringroveobsessed @runraerun

[notaplaceofhonour]

Update/clarification: the screenshotted slide was quietly deleted from the post.

The rest of the post is still there, otherwise intact as far as I can tell. It’s still making the same core claim of a “retraumatization machine” in which “sane voices” are “drowned out by propaganda feeding our emotions by weaponising charged language and associations”. in the original version of the post, the screenshotted slide makes it clear the “charged language and associations” in question is the understanding that the attacks were a pogrom. with that slide removed, the point isn’t changed, it’s just left to the reader to fill in the blanks as to what they mean by “charged language and associations”.

Except, the original post already explained exactly what they meant. And if that isn’t convincing enough, they also clarified in an insta story what they meant, and it’s very clear they’re a) dodging any acknowledgment that they might have been wrong—if people are offended it’s not because of anything they said, it’s because their words were “misinterpreted” or we’re too in our feelings because of trauma to see reality—and b) the crux of the post is that “in order for us to… understand how to move forward” we must “recognize the difference between this attack and a pogrom”.

As of the time of writing it’s still up and automatically expires in a few hours. I do not see how this follow-up statement could possibly be compatible with interpreting the removal of the formerly screenshotted slide as reflecting any change in position.

The fact that they can spare multiple paragraphs to defend the post, including doubling down on the idea that understanding the pogrom as a pogrom is antithetical to combatting antisemitism (???), and they can’t be bothered to issue a single sentence retraction when they remove a slide that changes nothing except obscuring its initial specificity, does not engender any trust that this change is anything more than a tactical/rhetorical move to say the same thing without having to deal with flacc for saying something so obviously offensive out loud.

Whether it’s SJP, Standing Together, or a medical journal, a good rule of thumb is: never trust redaction without retraction.

If people cannot demonstrate that they understand what they got wrong, don’t assume they do.

aaand now Standing Together is denying it was a pogrom & saying calling it that is just “feeding off our emotions” 🙃

[fandomfairyuniverse]

This ep really did an excellent job at highlighting why the hira and kiyoi dynamic is so captivating ie the fact that hira has self esteem so low it rivals the Mariana Trench and kiyoi has the emotional intelligence of a jellyfish (I say all of this with love) and yet they’re both like “I love him so so so much he’s so cool and handsome and I want to be with him forever and ever”

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

I love learning ASL it’s so good. Makes me happy to learn it. I’m so glad my university has classes for it with professors actually steeped in Deaf culture.

[s-soulwriter]

Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)

Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):

1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.

2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.

3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.

4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.

5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.

6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying “I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”

7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.

8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.

9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.

10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.

11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!

12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.

13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.

14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.

Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.

[luna-azzurra]

How to Write a Confession of Love

Build the Emotional Tension Before the big confession, let the tension simmer between the characters. Maybe they share little glances across the room, or their hands brush accidentally but neither pulls away. Every shared laugh or lingering look should leave the reader wondering “Is this it?” When the confession finally happens, it’ll feel like the natural next step, as if both characters have been teetering on the edge of admitting their feelings for a while.

Inner Turmoil Leading Up to the Moment No one’s ever totally confident before saying, “I like you,” or “I love you.” Show the character’s inner freak-out. Maybe they’re wondering if they’re about to ruin everything, or if the other person feels the same. Let them overthink every detail, what if they mess it up? What if they say the wrong thing? This nervousness is super relatable and makes the confession way more intense and vulnerable.

Choose the Right Setting Where the confession happens can completely change the vibe. If it’s somewhere quiet and personal, like on the roof under the stars or sitting close on a couch, it adds a sense of intimacy. But maybe it’s in the middle of a party or a chaotic situation, where emotions are running high and everything’s on the line. The setting should fit the emotions—are they scared? Excited? Confused? Let the environment match their energy.

Don’t Make It Perfect Real life is messy, and confessions of love are no different. Maybe the character fumbles their words, says something awkward, or has to start over. Maybe they get interrupted, or they laugh nervously halfway through. These imperfections make the moment feel real. It’s not about saying the perfect words, it’s about what’s in their heart. Let the raw, unpolished feelings shine through.

Balance Between Show and Tell Obviously, they’re going to say something like “I love you” or “I can’t stop thinking about you,” but actions and body language speak just as loudly. Maybe their voice cracks, they shift closer without realizing it, or they can’t seem to meet the other person’s eyes. Maybe their hands are shaking, or their heart is pounding so loud they can’t hear anything else. Let those little details paint the full picture of how much this confession means.

The Other Person’s Reaction It’s not just about the person confessing, the other person’s reaction is a huge part of the scene. Are they completely shocked? Do they hesitate, or respond right away? Do they get teary-eyed or try to play it cool? The way they react adds layers to the moment. Even a pause before answering can make the scene ten times more intense. Their response shows how much they’ve been waiting for or dreading this confession too.

In short, make it messy, emotional, and real. Readers want to feel the build-up, the fear, the excitement, and the vulnerability of both characters. Don’t be afraid to make things a little awkward or imperfect, that’s what makes a confession unforgettable.

[valeriehalla]

actual writing advice

1. Use the passive voice.

What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.

2. Use adverbs.

Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.

3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.

Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!

4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter

First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.

If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:

English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.

Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.

That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.

You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.

If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.

You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.

That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.

5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were

Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.

Well, bye!

[cherrysdeck]

Pick a card: The eyes Chico, they never lie.

Your future spouse's pov of you.

Remember: Take only what resonates, this is a general reading. Tarot readings are done with entertainment purposes only. Hope you like it!

Pile 1 -> 4

Pile 1

2 of cups, page of cups, the fool, 7 of wands, queen of cups, 2 of swords

Welcome to your reading pile 1! Ironically (because of my blog’s name) when I started shuffling Harry Styles’ Cherry came to mind. I feel like laying face up and just sigh very heavily. Your fs is someone so so romantic, but they might have trouble openly expressing this part of themselves. They are the type of person to just stare at you in secret. Because you’re pretty, and you’re smart, and you’re ignoring me so you’re obviously my type. Those kind of vibes. They look at you truly with so much admiration, it kind of scares them to approach. I feel like you’re always booked and busy, always on the run, so they might feel a little bit wary of wasting your time. They will want to wait for the perfect time to talk to you. In their eyes, you’re just so soft and beautiful, someone they want to protect and hug, and never leave your side. Eye contact is really important in this pile. I feel like you might have some kind of sad eyes, they can clearly see every emotion on your eyes. They’re very perceptive, and very emotional intelligent. But they might consider you so independent that they shy a little when it comes to offer help and support. They see you as such a strong and reliable person, someone that stands up for others, that always know what to say. They also see you as their perfect match. Maybe you two mirror each other, whether your personalities or your past experiences. But there’s a really deep understanding of the other. They might be hesitant about approaching, because they might feel a little bit insecure. They have put you on such a pedestal (where you should be honestly) that they don’t think they’re worthy of you. Too good for them. This will turn in a very slow-burn situation. But it’s because they think you deserve the best and only the best. You’re so sweet in their eyes pile 1. It’s like an adoration overload. They truly want to make your life easier, acts of deed and gift giving might be their love language. 

Pile 2

the devil, knight of cups, justice, king of wands, 5 of wands, the world, knight of pentacles, 2 of cups 

Hello, hello pile 2. You make hot and bothered , first thing I got, oh well. I feel my mind all mushy and confused. Hot n Cold by Katy Perry. What are you doing to them pile 2? I feel like you’re a kind of intimidating, cold, very focused on your goals, you know what you want, when to do something, very powerful. And they’re just, well, perplexed. You know yourself so well, you’re passionate about the things you like, have well defined morals and values. I feel like you’re often on the eye of the storm. They just don’t know what to do. You’re a well rounded person, know your qualities but also aware of your faults, and you’re working on improving yourself constantly. You’re not someone that can be stopped easily, like a bull, your eyes are set one something then you’ll do anything to get it. I feel like honesty might be your best and worst trait at the same time. They see you as someone who will say what’s exactly on your mind, no sugarcoat, just plain truth, but might forget to consider others and your words might hurt a little. They might want to live up to you, like wanting to follow your steps, kind of like a consort, a step behind. They definitely like when you take control, and will let you take it anytime. This is the part when they get turned on about you, but might not want to admit it out loud. I feel like your presence makes them very happy, just with being by your side is enough for them, kind of person that enjoys doing different things in silence but in the same room. I just got Megan Fox, like how sensual she is, how confident she is, how smart and perfect she is. Will go anywhere, anywhere, by your hand. Breakfast in bed, let’s just stay in all day. They definitely want you all by themselves, I feel like they might have some possessive tendencies (nothing too much, don’t worry). They just feel that you are so wonderful, and it’s clear that he’s not the only one that sees that, that they don’t want to share, or feel they have to compete for your attention. They want to prove themselves to you and show you they’re everything and the only one you need.

Pile 3

the wheel, page of swords, queen of cups, page of wands, the sun, temperance. 6 of wands, king of pentacles

Hi and welcome pile 3. Right off the bat, they love your laugh. Like really love your smile, kind of person that will do anything to make you laugh, even if it means doing something a little bit embarrassing in public. Your fs sees you as someone that is bubbly, out going, positive, very friendly, morning person. But they know that behind that you have gone through your fair share of struggles and have to build yourself up, they’re very proud of you. They see you as someone successful, knows how to manage themselves financially. You have a good balance between work and play. You value your career a lot, and might be a very important aspect of your life, but you know when to clock out and relax, and enjoy other things. They see you as someone adventurous and brave, they want to travel around the world with you, explore with you, do some adrenaline crazy activities too. I feel like food is relevant lol, like going to nice restaurants together, cooking and creating and trying new recipes together, like it’s your favourite bonding activity. Strawberries covered in chocolate. You’re also really smart, they just never get tired of listening to you speak, about anything and everything, you might be a great story teller too. You might know about so many different and sometimes unexpected topics, that they admire you for it. They feel like your mind is a wonder. You’re really brave pile 3, I feel like clapping for you right now. You know how to navigate obstacles and maintaining a positive outlook on life not matter what it throws back at you. Very rational and serious when needed, but knows when to let your hair loose and have fun too. They see you as someone who is so cute and huggable. Your happiness is definitely one of their priorities, and they hate to see you down. I’m going to stress this again, they’re really really proud of you. That message is coming so strong, and if you remember one thing only about this reading let it be that they’re so proud of you pile 3. 

Pile 4

2 of wands, 10 of swords, page of pentacles, 5 of cups, 4 of cups, the world rev, the emperor

Hello pile 4, do you want a hug? I feel like giving you a hug. You’re so strong pile 4, but your fs can see right through you. I know you like hiding your emotions and problems from others, but you can’t trick your fs, seriously. I know it’s hard to open up, and I know it’s scary, and you might have been betrayed or ignored by people you thought you could trust, but your fs is here for you. They want to crack your shell, know about every part of you, the good, the bad, the ugly, the pretty. I want you to see yourself the way I see you. You might stubborn about sharing your issues, you want to do everything by yourself, but I feel like is coming from a place of disappointment. You’ve been let down so many times, you don’t want to go through it again. But your fs is not going anywhere. I feel like they find you stubbornness funny, kind of teasing you until you open up or confess. You might be wary at the beginning to start a romantic relationship, or to even admit you like your fs, but they know and they want to hear you say it. Your fs will soften you up with time. They just want to help you, want to support you on your plans for the future, want to have plans for the future that involves the two of you. They see you as someone so resilient and that has had to stand alone for so long, they don’t want you to do that anymore. They’re here now, they’re not going anywhere, they got you. It feels like walks at midnight, being in your own bubble, everyone can feel the tension, even if you deny it. You two have such a great chemistry, it just makes sense, you fit perfectly, if only you see that too. It’s not going to be a perfect path from now, and there will be more obstacles on your way, but you two can do this, together. Your fs sees it that if you’re together you’ll be fine, you’ll get through whatever. Your fs is not going to let you down.

Xo, Xo, Cherry 💋

[l1tw1ck]

Simeon's Devotion

Sub!Bottom!FTM!Priest Simeon x Dom!Top!AMAB!Holy Knight Reader

Word Count: 2,410

Reverend Simeon, plagued by sinful thoughts of a certain holy knight, is suddenly struck with a high fever and abandons his God

AFAB Language Used | 2K Anniversary Request: For a Simeon Fic | [Breaking the Thermostat]

CW: Non-Con, Heavy Religious Themes, Dom/Sub, Virginity Loss, Bleeding, Size Difference, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Belly Bulge, Womb Fucking, Squirting, Creampie, Kidnapping

You knock loudly against Simeon’s doors, heavily injured. You hear the sound of shuffling and see the lights turn on inside. Moments later, he opens the door for you.

Simeon calls out your name in shock. “What happened to you?!” He helps you inside.

“Ran into some demons..” You murmur, sitting down on his couch. “Can you heal me?”

“Of course!” Simeon hastily removes your clothes, leaving you in just an undershirt and boxers. You're both already used to this. “How many this time?”

“I wanna say…30?” You watch him kneel down and use his divine powers on your wounds.

“30?! Did something attract them?”

“I’m not sure. I was on patrol and everything seemed normal. The monsters looked strange too. They all looked like distorted versions of God and they were muttering things like ‘sinner’ and ‘dirty’.” 

“That's strange..”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You reach to rub your temple but Simeon quickly heals your headache. “Could I have something to eat? I know you're probably tired so something like crackers would be fine.”

“You need to eat a real meal. I don't mind cooking for you. You can sleep over too, all your clothes are washed.” Simeon finishes your last wound and stands up. It's very common for you to sleep over at Simeon’s due to exhaustion since demons usually show up on the outskirts of town and you live a bit further away. “Think you can take a shower?”

You stand up and groan, the sound making Simeon twitch. “I think so. Thanks, Simeon.”

“God must be disappointed in you. So much for being a priest.” You say, staring at Simeon. He’s wearing sexy see through lingerie and an extravagant matching sheer silk robe. His legs are spread and he’s leaning against his bed frame. His tears are glistening against his cheeks, they’re shining like glitter. “You're nothing but a dirty sinner.” You move his panties aside.

Simeon looks at you, batting his eyelashes. Another tear falls down his cheek. “You’re my god now.”

“That’s right, baby. You’re mine.” You slowly begin to ease your cock inside him. “And I’m yours.” You press your hand against his pelvis, a pretty marking appearing on it.

Simeon suddenly wakes up moaning your name with his hand stuffed in his underwear. He gasps and yanks it out. He quickly wipes his hand on his clothes and begins to pray. “Please deliver me from temptation.” He repeats the same phrase over and over but as his body begins to grow hot, his prayer becomes strange.

“Please give me [Name]’s cock–” Simeon gasps and covers his mouth. “No…Forgive me— I need his co—” He covers his mouth again. He can't talk. He attempts to pray silently but that doesn't work either. It just makes him feel even more horny.

He begins to absentmindedly remove all of his clothes, his hands moving on their own to touch his wet pussy. He leans back, eyes out of focus, and begins to touch himself but he doesn't really know how. He just rubs his folds, which feel extremely sensitive. “I’m…I’m a sinner..” He mumbles, still out of it. “And a slut.”

“Only [Name] will accept me now.” Simeon brings his hand up to his tattoo and presses on it, a wave of pleasure flowing through him. 

He stumbles out of the bed and drunkenly walks to his guest room, where you’re sleeping. Knocking didn't cross his mind as he opened the door. 

“Si- Simeon?” You ask sleepily, sitting up. “Is something wrong?” You can't tell that he's naked. You move to sit on the side of the bed and squint at him.

“Yes..” He says quietly, stepping towards you. He kneels in between your legs. “I need you.”

“What?!” You recoil. “Are you okay? Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk.” Simeon presses kisses along your legs down to your feet. “I’ll do anything you want, [Name]. Anything.”

“I think you need to drink some water…you're not thinking straight.” You get off of the bed. As you try to head towards the door, Simeon stops you.

“I don’t need water, I need you.” He pulls you closer, he’s somehow stronger than before, and forces you into a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to pass on his ‘fever’ to you. Heat rushes through your body as your rational thoughts dispel like bubbles. He pulls away and looks at you lovingly. 

“Simeon...” You hold his chin, speaking with a loving tone. “How beautiful.” You mumble. He moans your name breathily.

“Kneel for me.” You order. Simeon kneels once again. You pull down your shorts and boxers at the same time. His eyes widen, hearts forming in them, when he sees your thick length. The process of becoming a Holy Knight can alter someone's body in major ways but he never knew it could change by this much. “Open your mouth.” You run your fingers through his hair.

Simeon opens his mouth and lets you slide your cock inside it. His mouth is unbelievably hot. He can feel the corners of his lips stretching to fit you. The thought of you stretching his pussy open next makes him moan. He stares into your eyes as you begin to thrust. You're sure they're glowing. 

“Your mouth feels amazing.” You moan. Simeon moans as well. “‘S perfect for me..” You speed up your thrusts. He happily allows you to fuck his mouth. He closes his eyes and focuses on your voice. He’s so aroused it's becoming painful.

You tighten your grip on his hair as your thrusts become unruly and desperate. He looks at you again, this time with tears in his eyes. But the tears aren't because he’s upset. “You look so pretty when you cry.” You groan as you come inside his mouth. You slowly pull away as Simeon swallows your seed without hesitation. You're still hard and you both want more. You pick him up and slam him onto the bed. Somehow, the both of you are able to see perfectly in the dark. Maybe it has something to do with the glow in your eyes.

You spread his legs and smile at how wet he is. The marking on his lower stomach glows faintly as you physically observe his pussy with your fingers. He squirms around cutely. You kneel in between his legs, mirroring what he did earlier, and bury your face into his pussy. Simeon moans. “Yes– oh- yes~!” He sucks in a breath. “[Name]~!” It's like he's ascended to heaven. 

You drag your tongue up to his clit and gently suck on it. It quickly and unnaturally swells in your mouth. It feels like he’s stuck on the edge of an orgasm, although it feels good nonetheless. You slip a finger into his hole and then another when you realize how easily it entered him, despite his tightness. “Ooh- oh, [Name]~” Simeon squeezes your fingers tightly as you attempt to finger him. The constant flexing of his walls make it difficult to move them but you don't mind. You’re more interested in how that’ll feel when you fuck him.

He can tell he's not going to come from this. He's not sure why, it feels like there's something blocking him from doing so. “Put…put your cock inside me, please~”

You smile and move away, standing back up. “Of course, my love.” You lick your lips and line up your cock with his pussy, slowly coating your tip with his slick. He bites down on his lip and uncontrollably twitches as you begin to sink into his sopping warmth. He throws his head back and grips the bed sheets while moaning shamelessly. You're barely inside him. His entire pussy is throbbing so heavily, it's almost like a second heartbeat. Blood soon spills from your penetration. 

The true representation of his sin.

He moans your name with his enchanting voice. Your cock ‘knocks’ on his cervix and strangely enough, it seems to be allowing your entrance. Like it wants you to enter his womb. You don't think about how that should be impossible and slide further inside him. “It feels– feels so—” He gasps, squirting. His eyelashes are fluttering rapidly.

“There you go, baby. Come for me.” You rub his clit with your thumb. He writhes around, no longer squirting but his cunt’s still squeezing you like crazy. He isn't able to think about anything at all, his brain is overloaded. The outline of his tattoo is becoming a bright blue. “Good boy…keep going.” You praise him.

Simeon wants to say your name again but he is completely unable to speak.

“Let’s make up for all your years of abstaining.” You start to thrust. He slowly comes back down to earth with each thrust you make. 

“Ah–” His eyes are sparkling with tears. “You’re so big…stretching me out~” 

“That’s right, I’m making your pussy fit the shape of my cock.” You slowly rub the bulge on his stomach, fucking him at a slow pace. “Your body’s gonna remember me and only me.”

“That's– that’s all I want~” Simeon moans. “Only you~”

“So pretty…” You brush his hair out of his face. He looks like a painting. You bring your hands to his waist and slowly build up to a faster pace. He reaches for you so you lean in. He wraps his arms around you.

“I love you.” He says in a shaky tone.

“I love you too.” You look into his eyes. For a brief moment, he realizes this isn't the real you, then he brushes it off. He feels strange. “My sweet Simeon.” You kiss him. The bed starts rocking due to your quickened thrusts. You separate from the kiss, some saliva dripping down his lip.

He looks down and notices the marking on his womb is glowing and the same color as his eyes. His desire has been satisfied. It’s all over. He looks up at you, suddenly shaking like a scared rabbit. The artificial light flickers out like a used lightbulb. He can't see you clearly anymore. The only lights are the glow in your eyes and the faint moonlight. “[Name]?” He asks.

“Hm?”

You're still…you’re not aware like he is. He suddenly feels disgusting. He forced you into this. Even if he wasn't completely conscious. He should tell you to stop, but he doesn't want to. Is it so wrong to want a little more? “I…I-” He stutters. “Come- come inside~” If he can't have you, maybe he can have a part of you.

You kiss his cheek. “Of course.” You come inside of him only moments later. It feels like he forced it out of you. You look at him with an exhausted but happy expression before passing out on top of him. He doesn't try to move you.

You slowly wake up. You look around the room and notice a stain on the floor that you didn't notice before. And your bedsheets seem to be different too. You also feel a little strange. Refreshed, but strange. You get up and leave the guest room. You can smell coffee so you go down to the kitchen. “You're up pretty early. Don't you usually sleep in on Tuesdays?”

Simeon shrugs, not looking at you. “I felt like getting up early today.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything today. Maybe I’ll make breakfast this time?”

“It's okay. I’ll make it.”

“If you insist.” You know you can't convince him otherwise. “I wanna do something for you though. You deserve a gift.”

“Protecting my town is more than enough.”

“You’ll never change, huh?” You chuckle. “You know, the bed sheets look different from last night. Am I crazy?”

Simeon breaks the mug in his hand. You shoot up from your chair and rush over to him.

“I- I’m okay.” Simeon heals himself. “There wasn't anything in it yet.” 

“Good. You…seem weird today.” You notice he's not making eye contact with you.

“I..” He presses his forehead onto your chest and frowns, tears forming in his eyes. “I did something horrible last night.”

“What do you mean?” You bring him into a hug and gently rub his back to comfort him.

“Please…please don't hate me.”

“How could I hate you?”

“Last night…something strange came over me. I wasn't fully in control of myself and I forced you to…to..” He begins to sob.

“Simeon?” You ask, concerned.

“I forced you to have intercourse with me!” He blurts out, pulling away from you. He turns around and doesn't look at you.

You pause. “It must’ve been the work of a demon. It's okay, it's not your fault. It wasn't my ‘first time’ but…was it yours?”

Simeon’s eyes widen. “That wasn't your first?”

“No.”

He bites down on his nail. “When?”

“Um…maybe a decade ago?”

“Before you became a knight? And you haven't since then?”

“...Yes.” You assume he's uncomfortable due to his beliefs.

Simeon sighs. You were ‘reborn’ during your ceremony so you’re technically a virgin but you still have the experience. “Are you going to remain celibate?”

“I…well, I hope to find someone in the future. To marry, of course.”

“Oh.” He clenches his fist. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in?”

“I suppose I’ve caught a liking to Solomon, he—”

Simeon whips his head around. The look in his eyes is scary. “No.” He grabs your shirt. “No. You can't. You can't leave me.”

“Simeon?” You look at him in disbelief.

“I…I’m not letting you leave.”

Simeon looks at you sleeping peacefully on his bed. He isn't sure how, but he caused you to pass out and he was able to carry you here. He didn't even break a sweat. Due to a holy knight’s ability to neutralize certain forms of demon magic, Simeon is sure he isn't using that as you would've been fine if he was. But that leaves more questions to be answered.

He slides his hand down to his lower stomach and touches the glowing blue mark on his womb. It hasn't gone away. What is it? If it's not demonic then is it holy? How could this be holy?

He gently caresses your face. “I’m sorry, but I can't allow you to leave.”

You’ll be missed in the order of the holy knights but no one will worry when Simeon tells everyone he has bigger plans for you.

[luveline]

can we possibly get the one where Gideon doesn’t like bombshell reader and poor Spencer is watching like☹️

Spencer feels a little like a child of divorce. Like, he absolutely is a child of divorce, but he didn’t think he’d feel this way at work. Lately, all Hotch and Gideon do is argue. 

It’s especially odd in that Hotch doesn’t usually go against Gideon’s judgement, even when he doesn’t agree, but you seem to be something Hotch is willing to fight for, and Spencer has no idea why.

“We don’t need her,” Gideon says. Spencer knows it isn’t Gideon being cruel, just stern. “We have a fine team without her.” 

“But with her, we’re better. And we have an opening. I know you like Greenaway for it, and I do too–”

“Everyone likes Greenaway for the position, she’s more palatable than L/N, and she works harder.”

Spencer tries not to whip his face back and forth like he’s following a ping pong ball, but it’s hard to keep up. He has no idea what his mentor’s talking about in all honesty, you’d seemed more than palatable when you met him last week. You were nice. And barely anybody is nice to Spencer. 

You sounded like you actually wanted to hear him talk, something Gideon has often been alone in. And palatable is a subjective word. 

“That’s not necessarily true,” Hotch says, knowing he’s losing. 

“We’re not gonna rush into picking someone,” Gideon says, less stern, more neutral. 

“No. I have invited her to the Georgia consultation this afternoon.” 

Gideon sighs through his nose. The afternoon rolls around quickly. Spencer doesn’t want to think about it but he’s excited to see you, and he feels conflicted in that; Gideon is the first person in a long time who actually seems to care about him, so Spencer is guilty of always aiming to please, but he can’t understand why Gideon dislikes you so much. Am I being easily led? he wonders. 

He’ll admit to finding you attractive. In his head, that is. You’d spoken so particularly, you’d looked stunning, and you didn’t make a fuss when he wouldn’t shake your hand. You called him beautiful. 

It’s the nicest, kindest attention he’s had since he started. Morgan calls him pretty boy. Spencer knows it’s not the same thing. 

They gather in the conference room, Morgan, Hotch, Gideon and Spencer, just a few minutes before 2PM. A minute later, you’re knocking on the door. 

“Hello…” You smile when you realise they’re here. “Am I late?” 

“No, L/N. Come and take a seat,” Hotch says. 

There’s a plastering of documents on the table and an empty seat by both Morgan and Spencer. You choose the one beside Spencer despite a stack of manilla folders, tucking your chair in neatly. “Oh, the grizzly stuff. This will upset my feminine energy.” 

Morgan laughs. Gideon glares at the table. 

Spencer likes it when you’re around. One more person and suddenly the consultation is a conversation and not a debate. You can keep up with everyone. You laugh at Spencer occasionally and he doesn’t know why, but he can tell it isn’t cruel laughter; he’s had a long time to work out the difference. 

Gideon excuses himself for a coffee half an hour in. 

Hotch immediately leans across the table. “I’m trying to help you,” he says. 

You grimace. “What am I doing wrong now?” 

“The laughing.” 

“You laugh.” 

“I know.” Hotch smiles at you. “You’re getting good at this, you have good insight on the dark triad. You read the book I sent?” 

“How’s Haley?” you ask.

He shakes his head, but his smile stays. “Don’t joke about that.” 

You’re not flirting. Or, Spencer doesn’t think so. It’s more likely you’re joking as Hotch says, everything about your body language pointing to amicable friendliness besides your flirting tones. “I read the book,” you say. Your gaze turns to Spencer. “Bet you’ve read it too, huh? Morgan said you’ve read every book ever written.” 

“That’s an exaggeration,” Spencer says. 

“But close?” you ask. “I’d love some recommendations. You know. For profiling.” 

“Don’t let her fool you, Reid, she’s well read,” Morgan says. 

“Wait, Gideon doesn’t like you because you laugh?” Spencer asks. 

It’s a socially inept thing to say, he realises after. You lean back in your chair all sweet and soft with your legs crossed, your dark stockings thin at the knees. He’s so, so worried you’re going to be offended and that’s exactly what he needs, a possible friend isolated again by his inability to read the room, but you don’t chew him out. You nudge his leg gently with the toe of your heel. 

“Now who said he doesn’t like me, handsome?” you ask teasingly. 

Spencer regrets the heat that floods his face and neck. 

“It’s complicated,” you add, your smile more than friendly, Spencer can’t work it out. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn him around eventually. It’s one of my many talents.” 

Oh, he thinks. That’s what it is. Spencer’s finally in on the joke. 

[junicult]

!! the bachelors when they’re horny

contains ; much suggestive content. fem!farmer. established relationships (marriage). reader has hair that can be put into a ponytail. nsfw, no actual smut. sorta proofread.

note ; here’s another apology for disappearing :,,

harvey.

- the love of my life.

- he’s more of a romantic.

- so he tends to take a sweeter, gentler route into hinting at him being in the mood.

- it’s not a hard task, either.

- this man is so in love with you. when he’s in love, it can just be the sight of you to turn him on.

- some of the easiest, i’d say is anything that reminds him he’s married to you.

- like yeah, of course he knows that, but it always makes his day when he reminds himself of it.

- such as coming home to you, making dinner for you or when you make dinner for him.

- sitting in ur home together, eating and talking about your day. just reminds him of the fact that he gets to do this with you, and no one else does.

- since he knows how busy you are, he absolutely loves being a househusband. spoiling you by doing all the household chores while you work your ass off outside.

- and he genuinely enjoys doing that,

- but on the rarer occasion when you take most of the day off, and he’s out at work—that’s what really gets him.

- the smallest gesture of picking up his empty plate and washing the dishes.

- when you constantly say, “honey, i’ve got it,” as he tries to help…it does something to him.

- it’s a small act of love that shows him you care so much about him without saying it.

- now, maybe it wasn’t your intention to turn him on. i mean, it’s quite literally a regular, basic gesture—

- but here he is. throat aching, palms starting to sweat and his growing hard-on straining in his pants.

- all because you showed basic human decency.

- lol.

- also because it’s the love of his life doing it for him, but still. he can’t help it. he’s just so infatuated with you.

- as for getting the hint across to you? ofc he’s not gonna fucking say it.

- he overthinks everything. and the last thing he’d want is for you to feel obligated just because he wants to.

- but there’s an obvious tell when it comes to harvey, and it’s not just the fact that his cheeks get all red.

- it’s the way he starts to fumble over his sentences, mumbling and stuttering his words.

- he’s not very smooth i fear.

- but that’s what we love about him🫶

- it doesn’t take long to realize you’ve got him tense. feel free to tease him a bit.

- the minute you show you’re on the same page, however, he gets a pick up in his confidence.

- whenever he’s turned on like this, it’s always the best for you.

- his beautiful wife does something sweet for him? then you better believe he’s going to be even sweeter to you.

sam.

- i’ve said this before,

- but it’s not hard to get him in the mood.

- show him even the tiniest sign that you’re horny, and he is too.

- what can i say, he’s a simple man.

- now, don’t mistaken that as anybody that comes along, shows a little affection can turn him on. bc that’s not true. at all.

- in fact, he’s incredibly oblivious to that kinda stuff. if he gets hit on, he’ll just take it as a compliment.

- it’s you that turns him on. it’s your affection. it’s the fact that you want him.

- bc he’s just that in love with you, he gets all excited when he’s in those situations with you.

- SO!!

- he gets so cute when he’s needy.

- he’s always down hug and hold you, trust me. his love language is for sure physical touch.

- even just in general, he has to be holding your hand while you’re standing together, he’s latched onto you when you’re laying together. he’ll even hold onto you as you’re cooking dinner. he loves touching you.

- and when he’s horny it’s no different.

- it’s so random, but one of his major turn ons is watching tie your hair out of your face.

- super casually, too. can be mid-conversation, or he just catches a glimpse of you doing it across the room.

- “your mom wants a me to bring a largemouth bass for dinner tonight, can you feed the chickens please?” your explain as you secure your ponytail with a hairtie.

- he’s all sorts of distracted, obviously listening to your request but he can’t help but focus on the action.

- “yeah, for sure—totally,” he nods, and the minute u walk out the door he has to let out a large huff of breath.

- another thing that vvvv much turns him on is when u walk fresh out of the shower with only a towel on.

- like, i’m talking u can still see the droplets of water on your shoulders, and your hair is soaking to the touch.

- he’s a simple man i said.

- and what’s funny is, he always showers with you.

- so seeing you like that will happen 9/10 times after u shower.

- he looks pretty much identical to you, too. same sopping wet hair and towel around his waist.

- he’s cute with it though. like, ofc he stares at you, but he’s got the cutest smile & obvious flush across his cheeks.

- mumbles a soft, “you just look really pretty,” after you ask about it.

- …idk abt u but he’s getting it after that.

shane.

- there’s no hiding it.

- he’ll straight up tell you.

- honestly, i feel like every time he’s with you or he sees you, he’s always at least a little turned on.

- within reason of course.

- i mean, how can he not be?

- it’s just like, when you’re that in love, he’ll find you beautiful no matter what. and if you’re literally covered in dirt or soot from the mines head to toe, if you tell him ur horny he is not complaining 💀

- simply put, he’s always down.

- he’s very respectful, however. he knows if the time isn’t right.

- but anyways, when he’s rly horny, it’s not hard to figure it out.

- he makes so much more eye contact, and becomes like the most intense listener.

- i don’t want it to sound like he isn’t already a good listener, he’s not an asshole (for the most part <3)

- it’s not like he’s doing the bare minimum just to get in your pants. he becomes such an intent listener because he’s turned on from the way you talk.

- like he’s enchanted. he could listen to you forever. he genuinely wants you to continue.

- when ur lying in bed together before going to bed, casually recapping your day and he can’t help but think about how pretty you look while u innocently put lotion on.

- and then his thoughts wander. and then he’s thinking the other pretty sounds your voice makes.

- and once you finish, you ask a sweet, “so how was your day, handsome?”

- he’s all, “pretty boring. missed you a ton.”

- you’re too deep in your relationship to know his compliment is also a pickup line, and that his thumb rubbing your thigh isn’t him just showing affection.

- it’s only a matter of time before he’s looking over at you with the smallest smirk and glazed eyes.

- “you feeling okay? still got some energy left?”

- not subtle indeed.

sebastian.

- in the beginning of ur relationship, he was turned on by many things you did, but he’d wait until he had an actual excuse.

- let me explain,

- when you were getting ready for bed, and he was spending the night, he’d watch you delicately take off your jewelry and carefully put them away—instant turn on.

- but it wasn’t until u joined him in bed, gave him a couple kisses on the cheek, & hinted that u were in the mood yourself when he’d fold.

- like he’d wait until he had an “excuse” for some reason.

- as for now, when ur relationship is very committed and ur living under the same roof, he stopped overthinking as much.

- instead of watching your dainty fingers unclasp each necklace, it was his to help you.

- then a gentle press of his soft lips to the center of your neck, & all he had to do was listen to your soft laugh, before you turned around and kissed him deeper.

- when he’s horny, that’s absolutely what he does. it saves him from outright saying it, and from making you feel bad if you aren’t. a win win.

- for sebastian to blatantly tell you he wants to have sex right now—he’s gotta be DEPRIVED.

- even though he’s comfortable with you, and no matter how long he’s been with you, he’s just not that kind of person to outright ask.

- plus, he likes when you come onto him. it’s an ego booster.

- he just loves u in general, and the fact that he knows u love him.

- now just bc i stated he doesn’t like to ask, doesn’t mean he never will.

- it’s rare, but he’s been with you for years. he’s bound to suggest it at least once.

- and if that were the case, he’ll still be shy about it.

- he’s been thinking about you all day, even clingy enough to bring himself out to help you with work.

- he’s sorta like ur shadow the entire day, and for a guy that deeply appreciates his alone time, it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

- “what’s up, sebby? you’ve been really clingy today.” you giggle, leaning into his touch that wraps around your waist.

- you’ll get nothing but a hum and a shrug for now.

- and by the time your chores are wrapped up, the sun is long since set, and you’re all cleaned and full from dinner—is when you finally pry it out of him.

- “you’re just usually not like this,” you giggle, running your fingers through his hair after kissing his cheek.

- “can i not show my wife affection?” he dryly jokes back, causing you to roll your eyes.

- “okay, i don’t need the attitude. of course you can.” you tease, smiling when he wraps his arms a little tighter around you and pulls you in for a kiss.

- “you just look extra beautiful today, and i wanna do something about it.” he all but shrugs, his voice low and quiet between his lips pressing against yours.

- “like what?”

- “why don’t you let me show you?”

alex.

- pfft.

- he’ll tell you.

- he’ll actually make it known to whoever’s near. he has zero shame.

- he always gets rly horny whenever ur out in public together, like at dinner w friends, or at town gatherings.

- it’s definitely because he gets to see you all dressed up, spritzed with perfume and makeup done.

- trust me, the sight of you in your loungewear still makes him a horny. a different kind of horny, tho. i’ll get to that in a minute.

- but there’s something so satisfying abt showing up to an event with a fucking goddess by his side. you’re dressed to the nines and you’ve got his hand in yours.

- it’s like a silent bragging right that you fell in love with him, not anyone else.

- he’s a little possessive in that sense.

- when you guys haven’t seen each other in a couple hours, he’ll always come find you after a bit to check in.

- it’s so cute cus ur a little buzzed, and so is he.

- he’ll easily slot himself by your side, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you close.

- just from the way your face immediately lights up, and a warm smile pulls at the corner of your cheeks is enough to turn him on.

- leans down to whisper in your ear, “when are you ready to head out? been dying to get this off of you,” while subtly tugging on the fabric hugging your hips.

- yeah, you’ll leave right after that😇

- and as for when he sees you in your loungewear,

- he tends to be a bit more loving.

- there’s definitely a side of him that only you bring out. he’s lowkey one of those guys that becomes such a softie when he’s alone with you.

- likes to hold u, or even be held if i may be so bold.

- so when he’s feeling particularly affectionate, mumbling abt how much he loves you and such, it tends to lead into a session or two.

elliott.

- he’s just beyond enamored by you and everything you do.

- he’s similar to shane in the sense that, no matter what he’ll always find you beautiful, and sexy.

- he’s the kind of guy who gets his own satisfaction by giving you what you want. so if ur horny, and you wanna have sex, well so is he.

- but for elliott, it’s different.

- it’s not so much as being horny and looking to just fuck,

- it’s him being in love with you, and wanting to make love to you, y’know?

- so when he’s horny, it’s usually when he gets his alone time with you.

- after you’ve finished work for the day, already showered, & he’s decided to wrap up his own work, is when you two can finally relax together.

- “you were out there for a while. busy day?” he asks curiously, silently patting his knee for you to prop your foot up.

- “ah, yeah, y’know, most of my crops needed to be harvested today and i had to run to pierre’s to plant some more.” you sigh, leaning back and indulging in his affection.

- it’s gonna sound a little weird, i know, but i feel like he silently loves when you’re a little sore.

- no, not because you’re in pain, but because he just loves the excuse to soothe you.

- he loves rubbing your shoulders and back, rubbing your feet when you’re tired while you tell him about your day.

- it’s usually then when he becomes infatuated, and all he wants to do is hold you and kiss you all over.

- so after some back and forth, talking about whatever news came up over the few hours you’ve been apart, is when he’s the most in love.

- there’s never really a verbal agreement, you two usually just feel it at the same time, which is when you lean in and it gets a bit heated.

- he can’t possibly pick one single thing you do that makes him hornier then another. it’s everything you do.

[haztory]

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right. 

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?” 

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

[doberbutts]

I grew up in a bilingual home and change my name’s pronunciation depending on the language. (I gave up on a single pronunciation when I was ~5 yo because other kids couldn’t get the accent right.) I’m very, very flexible on how my name is pronounced - but I’m white, so people are constantly checking if they’re pronouncing my name right, what about the way so and so said it, etc. I hate the way racism & xenophobia stop people from extending the same courtesy to other people.

The thing is that when it's an accent problem, truly I don't mind. Having grown up in a single language home but surrounded on all sides by multiple languages including several with sounds that straight up do not exist in English, I get it. It took me seriously sitting down to learn Japanese in order to differentiate tsu and zu by hearing alone, and only in recent years have my Japanese friends and contacts mentioned that I'm pronouncing them correctly and differently. It's hard when that sound is absent from your mother tongue!

But it's so obvious when it's just from a lack of effort. And especially obvious when others are fine pronouncing the exact name with the exact spelling when it's not attached to someone of your race or look, but impossible the second it refers to you. My birth name, as said, is the same as a Disney princess. I hear people say her name correctly every single day. But when it referred to me? Suddenly no one can read.

I always think of, I forget who it was but a popular black actress, talking to her African mother about wanting to change her name to something easier for white people to pronounce. And her mother said something simple: if they can learn to pronounce Schwarzenegger, then they can learn to pronounce your name too.

It really is that simple. It's a shame that so many don't see it that way.