#this was meant to be like a sentence long

[ghouljams]

That AU where Princess Reader kills herself because of her broken heart then gets reincarnated many many years later and gets to see her Ghost but now he’s a Lieutenant in the SAS and Reader is probably someone wealthy and in need of having a bodyguard.

Dreamily sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhs

The cycle continues, except this time Reader will not lose her Ghost again.

(I’m a sucker for reincarnation where only one remembers. The angst Ghost would feel if he was the one that remembered would be top tier too ughhhhhhhh I need to start writing againnnnnnnn)

Ghost sees you across the bar and knows you're meant for more than this. Meant for stone floors and sconces, for ivory towers and colorful banners, for satin slippers and floor length gowns, a crown on your head and tears staining your face. You shine like a beacon in the dimly lit pub, your smile like sunshine pulling at a long inescapable darkness, drawing him in like a moth to a flame before he can take a moment to stop himself. Something about the way your eyes find his makes him feel... unworthy.

You don't drink. The knowledge comes to him unbidden and true, despite the tall glass in your hand.

Your skirt is short, and there's a strange guilt that eats at him when his eyes drag over the bare skin of your thighs. Something else twists in his stomach, aches in his fingertips to touch such unfamiliar territory, to feel the softness of your skin just once.

A subtle sparkle against your chest, delicate jewelry that betrays your wealth to no one but Ghost. The kind of girl he could never hope to sink his teeth into, and yet all he wants to do is bury his face between your tits and lick the diamonds off them.

You blink up at him as suddenly as he finds himself in front of you, your lips parted around the end of an unfinished sentence. Your hair halos you just like he remembers, and suddenly a hundred faces flutter through his mind, gentle as the wings of butterflies and all of them you. Always you.

"Buy ya a drink." Simon offers.

"Oh," You glance at your glass, "it's just sparkling water and lime." You look back at him and he wants nothing more than to sweep you up and kiss you like you deserve, "I don't drink."

I know, Simon wants to say, I know you in every small way that doesn't matter, that's never mattered, and I've loved you in all the big ways that never came to pass.

"Dinner then," He asks instead.

"Alright," You agree with a smile.

This time. This time he'll get it right.

[ellecdc]

pause to breathe

combination of two anon prompts: yapper reader who seeks out any of the boys and starts talking and then wonders if they find her terribly annoying and she thinks they must hate her combined with part two for Regulus x yapper!reader with the mooncalves

Regulus Black x fem!reader who updates him on the mooncalves [681 words]

p1 | p2

CW: yapper reader, longwinded speech and spiralling thoughts, run-on sentences, reader feels embarrassed

Pandora and Barty were currently busy procuring ingredients to brew truth potions for tonight’s veritaserum-or-dare, which meant that Regulus, Evan, and Dorcas were enjoying a rare quiet moment in the library. 

“All I’m saying is that out of all the poltergeists I’ve summoned, Peeves really is the least of our worries.” Evan mentioned boredly, earning him a snort of laughter from Dorcas.

“Remember Mammon?” She asked in a hushed tone.

“How could we forget?” Regulus responded. “He had first years strung up by their feet from the ceiling trying to get the galleons to fall out of their pockets.” 

“I’m so glad Barty knows how to obliviate; that would have been a nightmare.”

“We would have been expelled.” Dorcas pressed with a laugh, Evan simply nodded at her.

“Like I said, a nightmare.”

Regulus was saved from having to reply when he heard his name being called, albeit softly - this was the library, afterall.

“Regulus! Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.” You chanted your whole way over before sitting down heavily on the bench beside Regulus, breathless and nearly blowing the parchment right off the table from the speed at which you approached.

“It worked! The beast treats from Brood & Peck worked!”

It took Regulus’ brain a few moments to work out what it was that you were talking about when he remembered his trip to Brood & Peck last week. He wondered then if he should ask you how it went, but you carried on before he could.

“I’m sure that maybe, perhaps, the apples were a help, seeing as they’ve grown somewhat accustomed to my presence. But they came right up to me last night! I even got to scritch the space between one’s eyes! Have you ever pet a mooncalf, Regulus? They’re way softer than they look. It’s almost like a cat except the fur is a touch longer and silkier. Have you ever pet a bunny? Sort of like a bunny, but with thinner and longer hair…like a long-and-thin haired bunny. Oh! And! Last night among the mooncalves was one tiny kitten! Real little, too. I wonder if he got separated from his mama when I was feeding them tuna a few nights ago? None of the other cats were there again last night, just the little bubs. But it seems as though the mooncalves have adopted him! Oh, it was so cute! One was even grooming him! But I was so busy being excited about finally petting them and getting them to approach me that I forgot to take pictures. Maybe I can get pictures tonight? Hopefully the kitten is still there. Well, I guess it would actually be better if the kitten was with its mum, yeah? Maybe just one more night, just so I can get a picture, then hopefully he finds his mum again.” 

You paused, likely to breathe, and seemed only then to register the fact that Regulus hadn’t been sitting at this table alone.

“Oh.” You murmured quietly, moving your horrified gaze from Evan and Dorcas towards Regulus beside you, another “oh” escaping you when you seemed to realise how long you just spent shouting about mooncalves to Regulus Black in front of his friends. 

“Oh my gods.” You nearly whispered. “I’m so sorry. Merlin, this is so embarrassing; I am so embarrassing. I’m so sorry!” 

Nearly as quick as you came did you stand and leave, fleeing from the library without even sparing a backwards glance at your potions partner. 

“I’d be worried she doesn’t get enough air to her head. Merlin.” Evan commented as he finally turned back towards the table from where he’d been watching you leave. “Do you think her brain works that quickly when she reads? She must finish books so fast.” 

Regulus simply smiled to himself as he packed up his notes and books. 

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Black.” Dorcas drawled teasingly as Regulus shouldered his book bag and exited the library, venturing off in the direction you had just moments before in hopes of finding out more about last night’s mooncalves and their little kitten friend.

[will-0-w]

mdni - vampire sylus, fem!reader, loss of virginity (reader first time), soft!dom sylus, praise, slight hints of blood, p in v, unprotected, small size kink, nicknames such as ‘sweetie’ and ‘kitten’ used, word count 1.6k, it’s a long one sorryy

Today was it, you thought. Today would be the day that which you took Sylus’ are your relationship a step further and tread onto undiscovered waters. Those undiscovered waters being finally getting more intimate with him, and also letting him take your virginity. You trusted him fully and truth be told, you wouldn’t want anyone else but him.

So here you were one evening at his place having been given a couple days off from the Hunters Association. Sylus sat next to you on his bed, immersed in some book he picked up earlier. You shifted nervously in place, fiddling with the edge of your silk night gown which barely covered half of your thighs.

“What is it, sweetie? You’ve been restless for the past hour.” He muttered, not even looking up from his book as he placed his hand on your thigh, it was meant to be a gentle and soothing gesture but only seemed to rile you up more. The contact of his large palm spreading across your skin sent a scorching sensation down to your core.

“Well.. I was thinking that maybe we could..” It was supposed to be an easy sentence yet you couldn’t get it out. “Maybe what? Come on kitten, spit it out.” He mused. “I want to take the next steps of our relationship further.” Now that made Sylus’ head perk up, crimson eyes locking with yours.

Sylus knew exactly what you meant, he had been anticipating the arrival of this day. As his lips curled up into a slight smirk you could see the peak of his sharp fangs poking out. “I thought you’d never ask, kitten.” You lowered your head, gaze fixed on your hands in your lap. The sound of a book shutting filled the room as he placed it on the bedside table, “You don’t look so excited though, why is that?” Sylus’ long fingers gripped your chin gently, lifting your head to meet his gaze once again. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself to tell him.

“I’m still a virgin..” The apples of your cheeks flushed a bright red. Now that, he was not expecting. “Oh.” That simple, short answer left you feeling slightly discouraged but the way his eyes softened told a different story. “That’s alright sweetie, I’ll take my time with you. A beauty like yourself deserves to be ravished.”

In an instant he was on top of you, pressing his soft lips to yours. The kiss started off gentle and slow, his hands roaming your body until it started to get more desperate and passionate. His tongue tracing the seem of your lips, asking for entrance to which you complied. Both of your tongues clashed together in a wet fight, he groaned into your mouth as he pulled away with a pop.

“You taste so sweet.” Sylus leaned down to capture your lips in another kiss before trailing down to your jaw, then your neck until he reached the valley of your breasts, those tantalising crimson eyes looking up into yours. His gaze sent shivers down your spine, it was a look full of love and warmth yet hunger bubbled under surface. If he could, he’d devour you on the spot. Reaching up for the straps of your night gown, you let him slip them down your shoulders with ease. He pulled the flimsy fabric down the curves of your body, a deep and appreciative groan rumbling in his throat. “So beautiful, so divine.”

Once the article of clothing was off, he trailed more kisses down your torso getting closer and closer to where you needed him most, practically aching for him. He came face to face with your panties now, a small wet patch staining them from your arousal. “My, my is my kitten this wet already?” He grinned as he traced his fangs along your lower belly, sighing in pleasure as you looked down at him.

Sylus moved back up your body coming to face you again, his lips planted kisses along the skin of your neck, occasionally biting small hickeys into the flesh and licking the smooth skin to ease the slight pain. That’s when you felt his own arousal poking against your thigh, he felt heavy and warm. He lifted his head and looked down at your smaller frame under him, eyes glinting under the warm light of the room. Sylus loved how small you were compared to him, like a precious doll that should be handled with care but you were far from that. You were a fierce and skilled Deepspace Hunter, in no need to be handled with care.

Removing his robe with deft fingers, his muscular frame was now on full display making your breath catch in your throat. Your gaze traveled over his chest, to his lower abdomen where his cock stood hard and aching, angry red tip glistening with pre. You gulped at his size, would that even fit? Sensing your worries , Sylus reassured you softly with gentle words.

“I’m going to need to prep you on my fingers, alright?” You nodded at his words before he slowly pulled your panties down your smooth legs and threw them onto the floor, joining your night gown. As the cold air hit your bare cunt, you shivered and felt embarrassment at how wet you were just from mindless kisses.

His long fingers trailed down your stomach to your pussy lips, running a singular digit through them, slick already coating his finger. “You’re so wet, sweetie.” He easily slipped his finger past your entrance and into your fluttering walls, they clamped around his finger sucking it in. The feeling caused a gasp to escape your lips and you quickly clamped a hand over your mouth, he tutted in disapproval and reached his free hand to remove yours. “Let me hear how good I make you feel, don’t hide your sounds from me.”

With that in mind, you let soft mewls or moans fall from your lips as he moved his finger inside you. “Do you think you can take another?” You nodded as he slipped a second finger in. “Good girl, taking my fingers so well.” He thrust them in and out, curling up inside, making you arch your back up as your head fell onto the plush pillows behind.

As he picked up the pace, you felt something bubbling in your core, reaching for that intense feeling but feeling it fleeting away as Sylus removed his fingers, sensing you were close. “Not yet, sweetie. I want to see you fall apart on my cock.” You whined at the loss of contact.

Moving back over you, Sylus traced the tip of his cock head against your folds. “Are you sure you want this?” Were you sure? Of course, you thought. “Yes, please Sylus I need you.” That was all you had to say before he slowly pushed his tip past your fluttering entrance, the delicious stretch bordering on painful and pleasant. He only got half way in before your hands were clawing at his forearms, “Too much?” He asked, concern filled his tone as he saw your pained expression. “I’ll take it slow alright?” He coaxed himself all the way until he was fully sheathed in your wet warmth, just staying there until you gave him the go ahead. “I don’t think I can hold myself back, sweetie.”

After a minute the painful stretch subsided and pleasure filled you to your very core, Sylus took that as a sign to start moving slowly and languidly, driving his hips into you. It was a gentle pace to get you used to the feeling and after a couple minutes of testing the limits his hips were slamming into you, causing you to cry out and dig your nails into his shoulders, the crescents of your nails taking shape on his skin. His name fell from your lips like a broken prayer. It was so much causing you to clench around his length. “Sylus—“ You mewled.

Groaning above you he rasped out, “I know sweetie, I know. But you can handle it, cant you?” He praised you endlessly with, “You’re doing so good for me, taking it so well.” Rolling his hips up into your fluttering hole, reaching all the right angles, making your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head as you felt that same sensation in your lower belly as before when he used his fingers.

“Are you close, sweetie?” He could feel you nearing your orgasm, his own soon approaching as his thrusts grew sloppier and uncoordinated. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he sank his fangs into the flesh, drawing blood. The metallic taste of your blood filled his mouth and senses as he drank up as much as he could, leaving his mark on you. He loved how you tasted and it was enough to send him over the edge of release, groaning loudly into your ear as he spilled his seed deep inside you.

As your own orgasm approached you let yourself go, clamping onto his cock as you reached your high, your own climax flowing through you. As your juices gushed all over his length you saw white as his name fell from your lips in cries of pleasure. It took you a couple minutes to come back to your senses, you felt boneless and spent as Sylus collapsed next to you, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and neck. “You were amazing kitten.” Curling up into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace as you both dozed off into a dreamless sleep, a faint smile on your lips.

[robinsgrl]

since im still getting hate through anon over “stealing” a concept that I didn’t know this woman had posted prior to me, im going to clear some things up.

rafesangelita reblogged a post of my comment which was taken completely out of context and not me pioneering “weird!girl”. I was talking about the “fan club” that the commenter was referring to. She commented “weird girl fan club” and I responded with “I am the leader and founder of” meaning, I was the leader and founder of my weird girls FAN CLUB because I adored that character. in high school, all the clubs had a leader and a founder but that doesn’t mean they created the idea of the club, and that’s quite literally what i meant. Think of it like a silly little club in school, it was a joke about a fan club for my specific reader. Granted, it was worded weirdly but that was part of the joke. Like me “completing” the sentence. yes, im name dropping her because quite literally everyone in the fandom knows her and she reblogged a completely inaccurate post AND blocked me before I could even speak up.

now for the woman who is claiming that i stole this concept from her. we dm’d and honestly, she was nice. i have nothing against her as a person. but she was still reblogging stuff that her friends posted about the situation and if it’s been “resolved” then stop reblogging things. anyway, she privately messaged me and admitted that she “blocked me previously to this happening”. i started writing for this fandom the end of november. I posted weird girl reader the first or second week of December. she admitted to blocking me since she saw the post and it blew up pretty quickly so im assuming that she blocked me around the same time that it was posted. i can not stress enough that i had not seen her work. as you can see that was almost a month ago. im not sure on my timeline because literally no one will tell me anything but my first post was nov. 22. it hasn’t been that long since i’ve been in this n fandom

the few works that i DID read were texts posts. everything i read i literally reblogged under my recs. I hadn’t read much farther than that. Now i know there’s no way to prove that but it’s the truth. I didn’t see her posts. I didn’t know who she was. And I didn’t get the time to know who she was because she blocked me.

now, in her long post in that same reblog im talking about, she stresses that you can make weird girl different. that she spent time on her character and I’m sure she did. granted, I didn’t get to read her works because again, I’ve been blocked. but that’s quite literally the point of _!readers. writers have the control. they can base them off of whatever they want and she named those examples. just like she was proud of her reader, i was proud of mine. those things that my reader did in the series were things that i have quite literally done in my real life.

the first part. i did the boob/pec thing to a gym guy that i was seeing back when i was 18. biting someone’s muscled arm was a trend that i saw on tiktok. Of women biting their so’s muscles.

the putting her hands in her boyfriends jeans to warm her cold hands up? i did that before and granted, it was with a girl that i was semi-seeing and not a guy like the original post, but I just flipped the scene. same with the ass slapping and grabbing joke. i do that to my friends. my friends. it’s weird, yes, but that’s why i wrote this weird girl with things i’ve done before because for a long time, i was considered weird. i was bullied in school for being weird, as im sure a lot of people have been.

this reader of mine was me. from the antics she did to the chronically online posts and texts. ive had so many people say that they, themselves have done these things with their significant others as well because tiktok and social media is normalizing not being so serious all the time, that it’s okay to be awkward and weird and goofy with the people you love. And as stated before, i go into writing weird girl reader as someone who’s on the spectrum. I don’t write that she is but as someone who is, those little pieces of me were in the story and im sure many who are can understand that.

she goes on to say that people blow up on her for confronting them. im truly sorry she had that experience but i am not them. she should have come to me as an adult from the beginning. as a grown woman. we both are grown enough to have a civil conversation before name dropping and having people come to my page and say im plagiarizing and copying her when i did not know who she was. because im sorry to say this: you did not inspire me. i did not see your posts. i did not know your account. until this reblogged ask was posted, i did not know you existed. i can not give credit on a concept that i didn’t even know you posted ahead of me. quirky readers like this have been around for longer than your own. i remember reading one direction wattpad stories with quirky/off putting readers when i was a preteen, literally dozen off stories, and back when it was “not being like other girls”. this concept is not new and was not popularized by you. I am not saying that takes away from your work. You have a right to be upset when people steal your own personal work but a concept is a concept. And it’s not one that i stole or got inspiration from you. and i have to reiterate: I am not saying i came up with this on my own. Im not saying this was my idea. But i did not get it from you.

now cameronwillow is defending her friend and i get that. having friends like this is important in hard times but i do believe she and the original sender of the ask, blew this thing out of proportion. im glad you’re there for your friend, truly, a love like that is all anyone can ask for. but you did this the absolute wrong way. read the top to see what i mean. if you still think i copied or stole from your friend and that “credit wasn’t given”, then, you’re gonna keep having a tough time on the internet and in fandoms; tropes and concepts and plots are constantly reused.

now, you posted that i should’ve messaged first. how when she admitted to blocking me when she saw my first weird girl post? you go on to say that “if you’re old enough to be on tumblr then you’re old enough to use your thumbs and message people off anon”. Now, the anon hate is wrong and anyone who is harassing your friend in a harsh way or calling her names, don’t take them as anyone I would support. I wouldn’t support any of them or any of that. If i found out who it was, i would report and block them myself. Hate through anon is wrong no matter what. But wouldn’t that go both ways? You all reblogged and posted things about me while I was blocked before we could have any sort of discussion as adults. (With the exception of dolly because she did unblock me and we had a discussion, although i will say it was too late.)

those are the main few that i think had a lot of hold over the situation. dolly isn’t at fault here. but neither am i. it was a bad situation that was dealt with badly. feelings on all sides are valid but this is the internet, you have to be careful with what you post and how you word yourself. i should have worded myself better on that leader and founder comment and i admit that, it was wrong. but at the least all of these people can and should admit that they blew this entire thing out of proportion.

now, i do want to add that this person gravedigginbbydoll made a completely insane post. in my latin culture, mal de ojo/brujeria/ hexes are a terrifying thing. it’s not something to be messed with in any sort of way. i’ve seen first hand what those things can do to a person. my mother and her long line in mexico rebuke all of this. they fight against it. they cleanse others and us in ways that i wouldn’t even know existed if i wasn’t a part of them. you don’t have to believe in it but i do. I wholeheartedly believe in it. And maybe she didn’t mean me. Maybe she didn’t mean it seriously. But i took it seriously. My family, who im talking with this about is taking it seriously. If youre an avid believer and follower of this stuff, you should know that a post like that to a random girl on the internet, who just wanted to get a better grasp on this abrupt situation, is maniacal and evil. I believe in karma. Karma IS going to come for you over that post and over wishing those things on me (and others).

I had a conversation with her friend under a post where we talk about the hate comments and anon and i agree, neither of us should get this hate. Not at all. And dolly has the right to her feelings. Plagiarism and copying is a real issues in fandoms and in fanfiction writing, one that i have dealt with myself in my past fandoms. But it’s also not insane of me to want to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by wanting to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by posting this. This is me defending myself and my writing because i am being completely honest— I did not know her work.

sensitive topic below here

Now to those who are defending me and sending me sweet messages, i love you all so much. It means the absolute world to me that you all are willing to hear me out and not jump to conclusions like many people are. And im so grateful for all the love on all my works, not only my weird girl posts. Fearless and Kildare nights were works that i was immensely proud of. Kildare Nights was a way to let out my silly little thoughts. I get attached to character and JJ was one that i was very attached to. The ending of s4 felt like a hole in me and i wanted to fill that. On top of that, a lot of you knew from my authors note that i was in the process of moving. I was lucky enough to find a place with my family in time before being evicted. I was homeless before this. I moved in with my mom because i was literally homeless. I slept in a shelter for a few days before renting a room in a random house with a random lady i met on Facebook. My mom, who I wasn’t talking to at the time, let me move back in with her. But she hadn’t told the landlord. So we were scrambling to find a place. Being homeless is a traumatizing part of life that I never want to go through again. And Kildare Nights is what got me through the nights where I wanted to give up again.

And Fearless was my baby. I’ve been a big girl my entire life. I was bullied for it relentlessly in high school to the point of developing an eating disorder that I still struggle with at 21 years old. I’m getting there slowly and surely but Fearless was for the big girls now and in the past that never felt like they could be loved. For the big girls who struggled to find themselves attractive or sexy or even pretty. To the big girls who have had mean girl experiences regarding their weight and just mean high school girls in general. We are deserving of love and romance and even the heartbreak that comes with all of that.

And im sorry to cut it all short. But this account is tainted by everyone who has name dropped me, who has blocked me, who has sent me hate through anon. By all of it. I may be grown and I should be able to handle these things but truth is im not. I don’t have the confidence nor am I in the correct frame of mind, mental health wise, to be putting up with all of this. I get that im not a child but Im 21 and still figuring things out. drama (because this is drama. despite saying its not.) shouldnt be in spaces that make us feel good, that make us feel empowered and that a lot of us use as an escape. thank you for hearing me out.

[nonphoto-blue]

Lucky Lucky ꕤ Cho Hyun-ju x Reader [1/?]

Read on AO3 Masterlist Summary: After your previous manager runs away to America with the funds meant to kickstart your debut, your band 4tune is left to pick up the pieces in an impending scandal. The new manager, Cho Hyun-ju, says she’ll do everything to ensure your debut is successful, but it’s a long road until she gains your trust, especially when her own secrets come to light. Or, the kpop/krock/band AU no one asked for.

Warnings: Slowwwww burn. Kind of an inherent power imbalance but reader isn't taking bs from anyone, and reader is 20+. Reader is AFAB and uses she/her. She's implied to be Korean/from South Korea but no physical description is used.

A/N: So I've had the horrible idea of a kpop au for Squid Game since the first season came out. Originally I'd thought of a Sangwoo x Reader fic but it felt in bad taste at the time. Season 2 came out and I can't stop thinking about Hyun-ju so uh. You're getting this.

Five years. You’ve been in trainee hell for five years, learning the ins and outs of PR, songwriting, language, appearances, how to fucking smile at a camera when all you wanted to do was sing and play guitar and look out at a crowd with more people than you can count on your hands. All for your dreams to be stolen away, packed up in bags and expedite-shipped to the United States. 

If you could go back in time to tell your past self to save herself the trouble and give up music altogether, you’d consider it. Or at least tell her to flip off the agency scout the second he approaches. Sure, you’d still be busking on the street, but you’d be spared this bullshit and continue life with hope still. You don’t want to be an idol. You want to be– you are a musician, and the evidence was going to be your debut.

Your band, 4tune, is slated to record your debut in a month, and begin promotions just a couple months from now, but thanks to your no-good-money-stealing-piece-of-shit ex-manager, the money set aside for appearances and advertising is no longer in the company’s bank account. With grim faces, you, your bandmates, and a few members of the company higher ups gather around a table in an emergency meeting.

“It’s ridiculous,” Se-mi crosses her arms across her chest, huffing her bangs out of her eyes. “What a coward.” She stands, crossing to a floor-length window and staring at the skyline of Mapo-gu, disbelief written on her face. 

Your mouth forms a thin line. “Who just… takes the money and runs? How was he allowed to take all of it anyway?”

“That’s all we know,” the CEO, Hwang In-ho, murmurs. He laces his fingers together and scans the rest of the band’s faces as you take in the not-quite-death-sentence he delivered your group. “We’ve got the police in South Korea and the United States investigating, but they haven’t found him yet.”

“So what does this mean for 4tune? I mean, are we… still going to debut?” Young-mi asks. 

“We don’t have a manager, we don’t have money, we don’t have a debut.” Jun-hee puts a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes in exasperation. 

“Actually,” In-ho raises a finger. “We do have a new manager for you. She couldn’t make this meeting, but she’s coming up from Busan after lunch. You’ll meet her tonight or tomorrow.” He leans forward in his seat, and rests both arms on the table in front of him. “Rest assured, you will debut.”

You can’t help but feel your lips curl into a sneer. A new manager? Who’s to say this one won’t make off with whatever scraps of money are left? You hear Se-mi scoff from the window, her thoughts echoing your own. Jun-hee looks hesitant, but Young-mi looks up at In-ho with hope.

“What’s her name? What’s she like?”

“Cho Hyun-ju. She’s an old acquaintance.” Looking over the group’s faces, In-ho stands, and begins to make his way to the meeting room door. “I’ve known her for a long time. She’s a good person.” Hardly glowing praise, but you suppose anyone would be better than the ex-manager. The other company members follow In-ho out of the room, meeting adjourned, leaving just your group members with their thoughts.

Your gaze lingers on the frosted glass door they left from. “Great. A manager, but no money. She can drive us around and shit, but we have nowhere to go. What’s the point?” Your words are bitter, spat in sorrowful resignation. 

Young-mi, ever the optimist, takes your hand in her’s. “Let’s give her a chance. In-ho sajangnim vouched for her, I say we see how she clicks with us before giving up on her.” She smiles meekly at the other members. None of you share her optimism, but with a shared side eye, the rest of you begrudgingly hear Young-mi out and agree.

“Fine,” you offer. “But if she does anything remotely shady I’m clawing my way out of this contract.” ꕤ

Despite the sudden wrench in 4tune’s future plans, you all have a schedule to uphold, so you go through the motions as if nothing was wrong. After a short break for lunch, language classes, pose training, you finally make it to the only part of training that doesn’t feel like a chore: rehearsal as a whole band. 

The rehearsal space is intimate; a small room with warm wood-panel flooring and a three-person couch in the corner. Se-mi’s drum kit is already set up on the drum rug, as is Young-mi’s keyboard and three amps, one for Young-mi’s bass, one for Jun-hee’s guitar, and one for yours, as well as a vocal mic on a long arm. Stepping into the space brings an energy you thought would be lost following this morning’s bad news, and you place your guitar’s hard case down with a determined vigor.

You unlatch the case, and pull out your guitar, a Fender Lite Ash Telecaster. The strap rests perfectly on your shoulder, the neck fitting perfectly in your left hand, a guitar pick in your right. The quarter-inch cable plugs into your guitar with a satisfying click and the amp hums to life when you switch it on. You set upon tuning your guitar, but it doesn’t take much adjustment for any member of the band, and soon your group is playing the first notes of what will be your title track for your debut.

It’s an upbeat song, and the lyrics are inherently hopeful and optimistic. You feel the stress pouring out of you as you hear how well the band plays together. From the wailing of Jun-hee’s guitar, to the machine-like precision of Se-mi’s drumming, to the effortless jumping from keys to bass by Young-mi, pride fills your heart knowing that you’re collaborating, and creating something beautiful in spite of everything going wrong.

You play rhythm guitar and sing. Closing your eyes, you pour your heart and soul into the high-energy chorus, the softer verses, and everything in between. As the outro plays out and you all play your final notes, a soft applause that crescendos into a quick flurry of claps breaks through your reverie. 

You hadn’t noticed when she came in, but at the door stands an unfamiliar woman. She’s tall, and seems a bit younger than In-ho. Her hair is cut at her shoulders with blunt bangs reaching her eyebrows. She’s dressed well, and she’s not standing timidly per-se, but there’s an awkwardness to how she holds herself, like she’s unsure if she’s allowed in this space.

“I’m sorry,” she smiles at the band. “I was told you were in this practice room and I heard you playing. You all sound amazing.”

Young-mi smiles back. “You must be the new manager! It’s nice to meet you! I’m-”

“Young-mi, right?” Young-mi nods. The woman turns to the drumset, “You’re Se-mi,” to the lead guitarist, “and Jun-hee,” and then she turns to you, and says your name so tenderly, so kindly, every fiber of your being is shouting at you to give her a chance. “And yes, I’m Cho Hyun-ju, your new manager.” ꕤ

Rehearsal stagnates after Hyun-ju’s arrival as the band seems more interested in the new arrival than playing, but you keep your guitar plugged in and guitar strap on. Young-mi puts down her bass and steps away from her keyboard to approach Hyun-ju immediately, Jun-hee following soon after. You pluck out a few notes here and there, trying to at least try to get through your part of the next song, but after Se-mi stands up from her drumset, you give up trying to continue rehearsal.

Hyun-ju seated herself on the couch in the corner. Jun-hee and Se-mi stand in front of her, and Young-mi sits beside her. “I’m excited to work with you all,” Hyun-ju half-bows in her seat. “You sounded amazing playing just now, your debut will be a hit, I can just feel it.”

“We’re happy to have you here too. I’m sure you’ve heard but our last manager flaked out on us.” Se-mi explains. Hyun-ju hums a condolence, eyes casting down to the ground. “We’re almost ready to record our album, so I’m sure you’ll have a lot to do coming up.”

You clear your throat, walking over to the group. “What experience do you have managing?” You don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does. It’s supposed to be a light conversation about her work history, not an interrogation into her credentials. Hyun-ju’s face falters at the stern tone, and you kick yourself internally.

“Managing specifically, I've done most of the tasks individually before. That is, things like schedule management and driving and the like. I do have experience in the music and idol industry outside of management.”

You try to school your expression, you really do, and you pull your lips into a not-quite-smile that ends up looking more like a grimace. “Well then,” you push out, “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

[yanderejustforyou]

Oh The Hurt

Peter Parker x Reader

You never asked for this. You didn’t ask for the love that coursed through your veins like molten lava, fierce and all-consuming. You didn’t ask for Peter Parker, the boy with the soft smile and eyes that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand unsaid words, to be the one to make your heart ache in ways you never thought possible.

But here you were.

You had always known that loving him would be a kind of torment—like dancing on the edge of a razor blade, feeling the cold metal graze your skin every time you took a step. His secrets were buried deep within him, a wall he built high and strong, and you knew that one day, that wall would break. And when it did, it would bring both of you to your knees.

You didn’t need to know all the details. You didn’t need to understand the full scope of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. But you did. You understood that every moment you spent with him was precious because it was fleeting. It was borrowed time, given to you in stolen seconds between the chaos and the danger that followed him wherever he went.

And every time he left, every time he disappeared into the night, part of you died a little more.

You hadn’t meant for it to come to this, for the relationship to unravel in the way it did. But love, for all its beauty, often burns the brightest right before it fades.

It started small. A quiet distance, a hesitance in his touch, the way his eyes would dart away from yours as if he couldn’t bear to look too long. You told yourself it was nothing—just the weight of his dual life, the mask he wore in both his worlds. But deep down, you knew the truth.

Peter was slipping away, and you couldn’t stop it.

The first time you saw him with her, your heart shattered.

You had caught a glimpse of them together, her laughing as Peter touched her arm, his fingers lingering far too long. It was nothing—nothing more than a harmless moment between friends, or so you convinced yourself. But then you saw the way he looked at her, the way his smile seemed to shine a little brighter, and that was when the walls you had built around yourself started to crumble.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. Your world tilted on its axis, and for the first time in your life, you realized you were losing him.

The confrontation came after a night spent pretending everything was fine, pretending you hadn’t seen the way his eyes had softened when she spoke to him. You could feel the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, suffocating you. It had to be said. You couldn’t keep living in this silence.

“Peter,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you stood in front of him. “Please… don’t do this.”

He looked at you, and you could see it—the guilt, the sorrow, the part of him that knew this was wrong. But it was already too late. He had already crossed the line. There was no going back.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves would wound both of you.

“You’re already hurting me,” you shot back, your chest tight with pain. “I see it in your eyes. You’ve already chosen.”

His face twisted, and for a moment, you saw the boy you loved—the one who would do anything to make things right. But even that wasn’t enough. His shoulders slumped as if the weight of his choices had finally crushed him.

“I didn’t mean to…” Peter trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“You didn’t mean to,” you repeated, your voice raw with a bitterness you had never known. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re choosing her. You’re choosing someone else.”

He reached out to you, his hand trembling as it hovered near your arm, but you took a step back, the sting of his touch a reminder of the distance that had already formed between you. A touch you couldn’t bring yourself to feel, not when the reality of it all was too much to bear.

“I can’t…” he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. “I don’t know how to choose.”

You didn’t know how to respond. How could you? You had spent so long pretending that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for you both. But the truth was, Peter had always been torn. Torn between the man he had been and the hero he had to be. Torn between the love he had for you and the guilt that would never leave him. And in the end, it wasn’t you he would choose.

The night stretched on, an endless black void that swallowed you whole. Every step you took, every thought you had, led back to him. To Peter. To the way he had looked at her, the way he had touched her, the way his heart seemed to beat for someone else.

And yet, even as the tears burned your eyes, even as your chest threatened to collapse under the weight of the ache, there was something inside you that couldn’t let him go. You hated him for it. You hated him for choosing her. But more than that, you hated yourself for not being able to hate him. You still loved him. Even as he tore you apart, piece by piece, you still loved him.

And that was the cruelest part.

You hadn’t expected him to show up at your door that night. You hadn’t expected him to come crawling back after everything had already fallen apart. But there he was, standing on your doorstep with the same haunted look in his eyes, the same broken boy who had once made you believe in something greater.

“Please…” he whispered, voice cracking. “Please let me fix this. I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Please, I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Your heart twisted, and for a moment, you thought you might break in his arms. You could feel the weight of everything he was saying, the desperate plea in his eyes. But no matter how badly you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t. You couldn’t because you knew that it was already too late. The damage had been done. And in the end, love wasn’t enough to save either of you.

You stepped back, shaking your head, and before you could say the words, the tears had already begun to fall.

“I can’t do this anymore, Peter,” you whispered, your voice trembling with every syllable. “I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me. I can’t keep pretending like everything will be okay when it never will be.”

His hand shot out, reaching for you, but you were already too far gone.

“I love you,” he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper now, like a prayer. “I love you so much. I never wanted to hurt you.”

But you could see it—the truth in his eyes, the lies wrapped in his promises. The love he had for you had never been enough to make him choose you. Not truly. Not when the world needed Spider-Man more than it needed Peter Parker.

And that was where it ended.

You closed the door quietly, your heart cracking in a thousand places, and you let the silence swallow you whole.

There was no happy ending. No redemption. No moment where Peter would choose you over everything else. He would always be torn between the man he was and the hero the world demanded him to be. And no matter how much you loved him, no matter how badly you wished for a different outcome, it would never be enough.

Some loves were doomed from the start, and you both had always known it.

Days passed, though they felt like an eternity. Each moment dragged on, every breath you took heavy with the suffocating weight of your decision. There was no closure. There was no peace. You had tried to erase him from your life, to let the wound heal, but his absence only made the pain more unbearable.

You walked through the days in a haze, numb to everything around you. The world had become a blur of colors and sounds, but none of it mattered. You couldn’t focus. You couldn’t think. All you could do was replay that night over and over in your mind—the look in his eyes when you closed the door on him, the rawness in his voice as he whispered that he loved you, and the way his hand had trembled as it reached for you, only to fall short.

You hated him for what he had done, for making you feel like you weren’t enough. But you hated yourself more for still loving him. Even after everything. Even after the way he had chosen her, even after the way he had torn you apart.

The nights were the hardest.

It wasn’t just the silence. It wasn’t just the emptiness that seemed to seep into every corner of your life. It was the memories. The way he used to laugh, the way he would pull you close and kiss you like the world could end at any moment, like the love you shared was the one thing that would keep it from falling apart. Those moments replayed in your mind with painful clarity.

You could still feel him, his warmth, the softness of his touch, the way his voice would soothe your fears. And it was those memories that hurt the most because they reminded you of what you had lost.

And then, just as you thought you might crumble under the weight of it all, he came to you again.

The knock on your door was soft but unmistakable. Your heart skipped a beat, and a familiar coldness crawled up your spine. You didn’t want to see him. Not like this. Not after everything. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from opening the door.

There he was, standing on your doorstep, eyes haunted and bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept in days. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair disheveled, and there was an almost palpable desperation clinging to him.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Peter said, his voice breaking, sounding so fragile that it made your chest ache. He took a step forward, but you instinctively stepped back, the distance between you both a painful reminder of everything that had transpired.

"Why?" You couldn't help the bitterness in your voice. "Why now, Peter? After everything? Why come back when you've already broken me?"

His face contorted with pain, his hand reaching out toward you, but you flinched, the rawness of your emotions surfacing all at once.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I know I hurt you. I know I screwed up. I can’t undo it, but I need you to understand something. I... I can’t live with the thought of losing you. I thought I could handle it. I thought I could do this alone, but I was wrong. I need you, and I’ll never forgive myself for how I hurt you.”

Your heart hammered painfully in your chest, each word tearing through you like a fresh wound. You wanted to scream, to push him away, but the truth was, you couldn’t. Not entirely. Because despite the pain he had caused, despite the deep wound he had left in your soul, you still loved him. And you hated yourself for it.

“I can’t keep doing this, Peter,” you whispered, the tears finally spilling over. “I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me. I can’t keep being your second choice, your backup, your convenience. I deserve more than that.”

His face crumpled as he stepped closer, his hand finally brushing against your arm. It felt like fire. You recoiled instinctively, the warmth of his touch searing through you, burning you in ways that felt too familiar. You wanted it, and yet, you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because every touch, every word, every glance from him was a reminder that this wasn’t love—not anymore. It was an illusion, a broken version of something that had once been real.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter said again, his voice thick with emotion. “I never meant to hurt you like this. I don’t know how to fix what I’ve done, but I can’t keep pretending that this—” He gestured between the two of you, his eyes full of guilt and longing, "—isn’t what I want. It’s always been you. Always."

You swallowed hard, stepping back again, your chest tight, your breath ragged.

“No,” you choked out, shaking your head. “No, Peter. It’s not enough anymore. You can’t just come back when it’s convenient for you. You can’t just waltz in and expect everything to be okay. You’ve already chosen her. And I can’t—I can’t keep being the person you come to when it’s easier. I won’t let you destroy me anymore.”

Peter flinched as if your words physically struck him. You saw the hurt flash in his eyes, but there was also something else. Something darker, more painful than you’d ever seen before: regret. And it was almost unbearable to watch. Because in that moment, you realized that no matter how much you loved him, no matter how deeply he cared for you, you would always be the one to suffer.

This—this broken, painful thing between you two—would never heal. You both had tried to pretend it would, tried to hold on to the pieces, but the cracks had already run too deep. You could both feel it, the inevitable unraveling of a love that was never meant to be.

And so, with one last, lingering look, Peter turned to leave. You didn’t stop him. You couldn’t. The weight of everything you had gone through together, and everything you had lost, was too much. The air felt thick with sorrow, suffocating, and as he walked away from you for the final time, you felt the fire inside you flicker and die.

You tried to move on. You tried to walk away, to let the pieces of your broken heart fall where they may, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape him. Every part of you still ached for him, still wanted him. But the truth was, there was no way out of this. There was no way to make it right. You had both tried to hold on, to make it work, but love was never enough. Not when the world was constantly pulling him away from you.

And as the days turned into weeks, you realized—some things were just never meant to be.

[yoru-exe]

PHAINON ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆ . promise in vain

back then, you didn't understand why seers should maintain a neutral position, absolutely avoid from directly contributing to battle planning, are forbiddened to form strong connects with their associates and use their gift for personal gain. how you wished you've taken your master's teaching more seriously as you gazed into the near future of the war's outcome. your heart crumbled like amphoreus destined to fall to ruin, helpless to the sight of the man who you've been war counseled to laying lifeless on the ground, the light in his eyes extinguished.

you broke all the rules a seer should abide to at any circumstances. now, it's time to pay the price.

phainon walked across the strategic meeting room, inspecting the last of the details before the battle begun. you stood silently by his side, watching in longingness your silhouettes that seemed to dance on the wall. no harm could come to them, at least before the light goes out.

"now that we have all the support that we requested for, we can ensure the safety of the people should the enemy decided to break in from the west wall. if this happen, then i trust you to-".

"can you not go?".

the question spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it. the silence that followed was deafening.

"i'm afraid i don't understand what you're trying to say".

when you spoke again, your glassy eyes met his, tear threatened to spill, "can you not go to the war?".

the two of you rarely had any physical contact for as long as you've been associated with each other. perhaps it was just the unspoken rules you set; i help you, you help me, nothing else. but the instant he saw your heartbroken face, a sight he's not used to, his body moved instinctly to hold you in his arm, as he caressed your cheeks, wiping the fallen tears away, "you know i have to. but we've planned for this. i'll be fine".

"but what if you don't survive this?"

a hint of doubt crossed his face, but it's gone as fast as it came, replaced with a determined expression that you know he practised a million times to lie to even himself, "i'll make sure i will and come home to you".

if your thoughts and emotion weren't in such a messy state, you would have been more appreciative towards his confession. instead, you burst with the fear that you could no longer surpress, "but i saw you-".

you didn't get to finish your sentence as phainon pressed his lips on yours, sealing away whatever fate of his that he's aware you're not supposed to reveal. it didn't matter.

it didn't matter that he live or not.

what mattered is he made sure you know he meant it when he said he'll come home to you.

he continued to hold you firmly in his embrace after he pulled away. his expression was one of sincerity and calmness, like a hero ready to sacrifise himself knowing that he know it was a sacrifice that worth making.

"just wait for me, okay?"

⊹₊ author's note ₊⊹

nameless faces left me in SHAMBLE i need to cope, therefore this piece was born yea i think phainon is up for one heck of a nasty fate you know how greek myths love giving their heroes brutal death or whatever. if the story ended up on a completely different route than what i thought it would, please dont at me sob

[okaysonny]

"i hate to see her go, but i love to watch her leave" ╏ jake kim (lookism)

i hate to see her go, but i love to watch her leave!

he heard that in a movie yesterday. jake never understood the phrase. sure, sensual things are nice, but he's not an inherently sensual man. he never needed that stuff to know he loves you.

until you walk away with that beautiful smile, getting him food.

he never wants to stop gazing at your face, but the perfection you carry when leaving has him awestruck. your figure always leaves an impression, but in that moment, he thinks: i'm such a lucky guy.

it's not what moves. it's the way it does. the way your shirt flutters and the slight bounce you have in every step. it's enough to make his heart pound.

and then you do the thing he wished you would. you look back at him with those gorgeous eyes and share the brilliance of your face with him.

you've captivated him in every possible way. yet for some reason, it's your cheeks that flush when he gives you those tiny kisses.

he's always sworn to himself, long before he met you: i'll never be like him.

─ Are you leaving Mom at home to go see those weird girls again?

─ Jake. A real man loves his ladies. Someday when you grow up, you'll understand how I feel.

he never understands. and he never will. why did his father choose lust over a love so sweet, so pure with someone?

then again, your love is one in a million.

but jake doesn't need the memories of his father to give his all to you. to be the best version of himself for you. you make it so easy, so natural, that the man has no influence. this is just who he wants to be.

i hate to see her go, but i love to watch her leave!

maybe the guy in the movie wasn't thinking how he was. but movies are meant to be interpreted, aren't they?

he thinks that with you, he understands the phrase in a different sense.

and as you walk back to him holding a plate, with a slice of red velvet cake - the flavour you know he loves - the meaning is clearer than ever.

jake doesn't think he deserves you. but you always speak to him so lovingly, your eyes reflecting the same thing he feels. he's starting to believe he can allow himself to be happy.

you're everything he could've wanted in someone - and more. someone who loves all the parts he hates.

so yes, sensual things are nice, but they're never necessary. you make him so content just standing there.

he doesn't think any words, any actions, could ever express the depth of his feelings. but he settles for what he can as he sheepishly takes the plate.

i love you.

A/N: the idea came from this reddit post that's like ten years old ^_^ (took sentences from it lolz)

stumbled across it when i was doing research for a fic, and it's really sweet...albeit a bit cheesy. but this is also cheesy, so it doesn't matter 😭 i hope OP and his partner are still happy together :')

divider: @thecutestgrotto

[sikyulioness]

I don't know if you can make head canons but can you make one for Jinwoo as a yandere 🥲

✨Hope you like it✨

_______. ._______

Bound by Shadows

Jinwoo wasn’t the type to believe in fate. Destiny was just an excuse for weak men to justify their failures. He had spent years clawing his way to the top, turning his own death sentence into power, and he refused to let anything or anyone distract him from that.

And yet, the first time he saw you, something shifted.

It was supposed to be an ordinary evening. He had just finished eliminating a gate’s remaining threats, his shadows slithering back into place as he stepped into the quiet city streets. The weight of his responsibilities loomed over him, as always, yet for the first time in a long while, his mind went utterly blank.

Because there you were.

You weren’t extraordinary. There was no overwhelming presence, no aura that demanded attention. If anything, you were unassuming, lost in your own world as you walked past. But that was what made Jinwoo stop.

The world was a cruel, dangerous place, and yet you moved through it like you had never known fear. How? How had you managed to exist so quietly, so untouched by the darkness he had come to know so well?

His shadows stirred beneath him, curious, waiting.

He told himself he would forget you by the time he turned the corner.

But he didn’t.

—

At first, it was nothing. Just coincidence. He convinced himself that running into you again was a matter of probability, nothing more. Seoul wasn’t small, but it wasn’t impossible for two people to frequent the same places.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the way his eyes always found you in a crowd. The way his feet seemed to move on their own, trailing a little too close when he should have been walking the other way.

The shadows made it worse. They were drawn to you, following at a distance even when Jinwoo willed them not to. It was unnatural, the way they curled in anticipation whenever you were near, the way they whispered in his ear that you were something important.

It wasn’t until he noticed the changes that he realized just how far he had already fallen.

The obstacles in your life began disappearing before you even noticed them. A late-night stalker who had been watching you for weeks? Gone before he could take a step too close. That café you always visited, where the barista had been a little too friendly for Jinwoo’s liking? Suddenly under new management. The landlord who was thinking of raising your rent? Changed his mind overnight.

Jinwoo made sure your world remained untouched. Unbothered. Safe.

He was careful, always careful, never letting you see the way he stood just out of your line of sight. The way he listened to your voice from the shadows, memorizing your habits, your routines, the way your lips curled when you were deep in thought.

He thought it would be enough.

It wasn’t.

—

The gifts started appearing before he could stop himself.

A necklace in your favorite color, left on your doorstep with no note. A coat just thick enough to keep you warm when winter rolled in, arriving at your door as if it had been a mistaken delivery. Things you never mentioned wanting, yet somehow needed.

And when he saw you wear them—saw the way you smiled as you ran your fingers over the delicate chain, saw the way you pulled the coat tighter around yourself on cold mornings—something in him settled.

As if this was always how it was supposed to be.

—

Jinwoo never meant to frighten you.

He never thought you would notice, never thought you would realize the way the world bent around you in ways it never did before.

But then you tried to leave.

He heard it in your voice before you even made the decision, the way your words wavered as you told a friend you were thinking of moving. A fresh start, you said. A new beginning.

The shadows lashed violently beneath his feet.

No.

You didn’t need a new beginning. You didn’t need to run from something that had never been a threat.

You were his.

And nothing—not distance, not fear, not even your own resistance—would ever change that.

So when you opened your eyes one morning and found yourself somewhere unfamiliar, wrapped in warmth that was not your own, Jinwoo was already there.

Waiting. Watching.

Smiling.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice smooth, affectionate. Final.

Because now, finally, he didn’t have to watch from afar anymore.

---

The End

[useless-catalanfacts]

Hola!

I know that inclusive grammar is oftentimes not set in stones.

From quick research, I understand that “elli” is one suggested gender neutral pronoun in Català. Is there an accepted inclusive definite article like “el,” “la,” outside of the confusing to speak suggestions with “x”.

It is an earnest ask as I don’t see any info online in the places I am looking.

Thank you in advance and thank you for sharing your knowledge on Catalan culture.

Hello! Thank you :D

Yes, there is. Every word (determinants, adjectives, nouns, pronouns, etc) are turned into non-binary grammatical gender by taking the feminine version and changing the gender marker -a for -i (in the case of singular) or -es for -is (in the case of plurals). Thus, the article is "li" (singular) or "lis" (plural).

I would also like to clear up a couple of minor things from the ask, I'll add the whole answer under a cut because it's a bit long.

You mentioned an "accepted" article. Accepted by who? Do you mean widely accepted by speakers, or accepted by the official institutions that regulate the standard and make dictionaries? Because those are very different questions.

Being used and understood by speakers comes first, and only after it is widespread do the academies incorporate it in their standards, dictionaries and lists. A dictionary is never a place to propose new words, only to compile the ones already part of the language. That's why academies that make dictionaries and regulate the standard, regardless of how much they want to, just can't add new things so quickly, they must wait to see if a trend really ends up becoming part of the language of if it's a short-lived trend that leaves and never takes root.

The third grammatical gender is still a recent proposal which many speakers haven't heard of, don't know how to use and don't understand (in fact, they would understand a different thing if they heard it*). For this reason, it's too soon to talk about being included by language academies. But yes, the -i ending (including elli) is the most used and most widely accepted proposal of third grammatical gender.

*replacing the vowels for the vowel "i" has always been used as a way to ridiculize a sentence, way before the -i got proposed for a non-binary grammatical gender, so people who are not familiar with this new proposal will likely interpret it as a joke.

So from now on I will answer assuming we mean what is the most widely used or socially accepted (which is what I assume you meant anyway), because as we've established it's too early to talk about being or not being accepted by official academies.

2. We are talking about third grammatical gender or non-binary grammatical gender, not gender-neutral.

In English, the singular "they" is used as a gender-neutral pronoun when we don't know the gender of the person we're talking about, but Catalan and most other Romance languages don't have this. The idea that has been proposed is a new, third grammatical gender which is neither male nor female. This third grammatical gender is used by non-binary people who prefer to use neither male nor female. But if it were gender-neutral we would use it to talk about people who aren't non-binary or for mixed grammatical genders (remember that grammatical gender does not equal human gender, the word is only a coincidence and in many cases it could be better translated as "type", "class" or "genre"), for example "there they are, the dishes and the mugs" = "allà els tenim, els plats i les tasses". We use the unmarked/masculine for that, but there's some people who also have other proposals but that's a whole other very, very long conversation.

Same goes for people, we don't use the third grammatical gender when we don't know someone's gender, unlike English this isn't part of our language. We simply tend to add the multiple options. Until now it was 2 (male and female), now it should be 3. In some other occasions, people might use the unmarked/masculine or write in reference to "person" (can be an elliptical construction that simply looks like a feminine sentence).

3. The -x.

You also mention the confusing -x. Luckily the -x is not commonly used here. It's not very useful because it's very online-only (it can't be pronounced, so it can never become part of the language more than just virtue-signaling in written form).

It's normal to have to try out different forms before finding out what will work, but we're lucky that this one never really took root because it will be easier to teach directly the new one (-i) to the broader public who isn't as invested in this.

That being said, going back to your question:

"Elli" is the personal neopronoun (equivalent to ell and ella), as you said, and the -i termination is the proposed new grammatical gender. It must be the -i because it's the only vowel in Catalan that isn't directly associated with one of the two other existing grammatical genders: -a is used for the singular feminine, -e is used for the plural feminine (as well as singular feminine in some accents), -o and -u are used for the plural unmarked/masculine. The singular unmarked/masculine grammatical gender in Catalan doesn't have an ending, so it can end in any letter (including -i). Thus, only -i is (most times) left, even though it's already used as an end in some pronouns (like "hi", meaning "there", "-li" meaning "to him" or "to her", etc). So the rule is this: for every gendered word (nouns, adjectives, pronouns, etc) just take the feminine form and in singular change the -a for -i, or in plural change the -es for -is.

The article would work the same way: li. For example:

♂️: El mestre és alt. Els mestres són alts.

♀️: La mestra és alta. Les mestres són altes.

Neo: Li mestri és alti. Lis mestris són altis.

If you want to know more details about this new proposal, there's a book called Guia gramatical de llenguatge no-binari that explains everything.

I hope this answers your question! And thank you very much for your interest.

[catsandgoodbooks]

Random tired thought but what if Harpocrates isn't one person but is just the name everyone who it could possibly fit uses when they want to get involved with the Syndicate. Most of the time it's Callahan, Punz, or Purpled, but it has been Dream, Hannah, Eret, Foolish, Ponk, and probably some other people before.

(In a post-prison Syndicate AU, Dream takes it on full-time and everyone else just has to figure something else out if they want to get involved)

Purpled and Punz know that they're both Harpocrates and sometimes work together as the fifth Syndicate member. Callahan knows that someone else is also Harpocrates but doesn't know who it is and doesn't really care. All the various bit Harpocri know subconsciously that other people also use the alias but don't know who specifically.

This is all very confusing for the Syndicate, especially because they don't know that Harpocrates is multiple people. Techno's constantly making conspiracy theories about who it is and everyone else just indulges him.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest

Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here

Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭

It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony

[alecscudder1987]

ive just had a thought. see ive been joking as much as the next person about the ineffable beurocracy getting their shit together after 3 dates while it took aziraphale and crowley since literally before time was invented BUT it's quite literally just privilege.

you saw the shot where aziraphale grabs crowley's shoulder just after beelzebub and gabriel declare their love--this level of visibility is unprecedented, and something he and crowley have never been able to afford. while they (and we) might have softened to not-gabriel throughout the season, the second gabriel is gabriel again, he uses his position and leaddrship weight as archangel to fuck right off with his beloved. which, good for him.

but to aziraphale and crowley, this is fucking bonkers information. they spent their entire existences compromising on their relationship in order to not...be compromised. and gabriel just up and speed-runs dating the enemy because the worst consequence he faces is getting fired. gabriel and beelzebub never face consequences for their relationship, so of course it goes off without a hitch. no one looking over your shoulder because you're the guy looking over everyone's shoulder.

while im thankful they fucked off to alpha centuri so i don't ever have to see gabriel's smug face again, i do wonder if the "going off together" is really the good relationship A & C ought to model. if it's a happy foil to miserable wee morag and her girlfriend from the minisodes, it's still not what i believe crowley and aziraphale are going to do.

they've spent all of time becoming increasingly codependent, and while that's fun and all for a while, crowley and aziraphale really need their little human mundanities. going on walks. getting dinner. going for a drive to blow off steam. their path is getting distinctly more human-looking, and i think someday they're going to have to reckon with the idea of letting other people into their lives.

to bring it back to my first point, i've just been thinking about WHY crowley and aziraphale are Like That, when we've been presented with a new couple who most certainly isn't, and it made me think about it in terms of power. they have leverage, but they built it for themselves by learning everything about earth their superiors didn't know, getting a leg up anywhere they can. gabriel and beezlebub don't need a leg up. they have it. they're stepping on your chest and brushing dust from their costs as you try to climb past the first stone.

you could also look at it like queer versus straight relationships. queer relationships are often by circumstance somewhat secretive and full of codes and longing glances and not-talking-about-your-feelings BECAUSE it might get you into trouble. straight relationships often don't have this problem (though they might have others relating to other intersecting & marginalized identities) so they can get straight away into the declaring it part.

TL;DR beezlebub and gabriel got hitched immidiately while it took crowley and aziraphale all of time to kiss because the ineffable beaurocracy has about a million times more power and a billion times less consequences for getting caught about it than the ineffable husbands do.

[alpacacare-archive]

its DESTINY

[misersdream]

Slay the Prince - The Thorn

[quirkle2]

the angst in your zombie au bREAKS MY HEART INTO PIECES (I LOVE IT VERY MUCH)

okay, okay, so!! if the kagebros got separated from reigen and teru when mob is still fine, i imagine that their reunion would be hEARTWRENCHING also, i'm a bit curious, would mob still be able to recognize teru and reigen? or would he thought about them as strangers?

(tbh, following your lore, i imagine mob would act a similarly like nezuko from demon slayer? but instead of little hums, his zombie sounds would more like babbling and incoherent mumbles :"D)

the reunion is fuckin AWFUL man it's SO gut-wrenching. both reigen and teru feared this for Months while looking for the brothers; pretty much the worst case scenario was that mob or ritsu or Both turned—a lot of humans prefer death over being a zombie any day, so the idea of ritsu or mob having to go through that and wander around aimlessly until starvation or smth else gets them,,,

it hurts them so much to think about. teru forces himself not to dwell on it and he's pretty good at that but reigen thinks abt it a lot and he's honestly not sure what scenario is worse. best case is that they're both alive and unturned, obviously, but what's the worst case? you'd think it's both of them getting killed, or turning, but reigen also knows that if One of them got killed/turned, the other would probably lose their mind, especially if they had to watch. the fact that they're kids makes this all three times worse and reigen has to act like he's Not worrying himself sick over the brothers while he tries to keep teru in high spirits

the reunion itself is rly fuckin gut-wrenching for them. they see mob from afar, wandered off just a bit from ritsu and tome who are just around the bend looting a place, and they book it bc ofc they do, it's mob!! but then they see how pale he is, and when he turns around they don't see that light in his eyes that's usually there and the red is dulled and dead looking,, teru almost moves in for a hug before he realizes mob looks vastly different when he Rly takes him in, and mob doesn't rly react too much besides staring at them blankly. the obvious answer is almost too horrifying to even consider, so it takes them a minute to rly,,realize what's going on

tome comes around the bend and shouts, cuz when humans and zombies mix it's usually guns pointed at zombie heads. ritsu comes running out after her and when he sees reigen and teru his thoughts go, in order: holy shit is that reigen and tero ohmygod oh my god they're alive they're alive ohmy god i could fucking cry, and ohmy god they see shige ohno oh no oh no

ritsu sounds like a lunatic when he pulls mob away from them on instinct and says that he's safe to be around and that he's "still him" and he's "not gone" and he's very aware of that. he's very, intimately aware that he sounds fuckin crazy, bc ofc he does, this is what all the crazy people in zombie movies sound like. but he doesn't care, he doesn't care if reigen or teru dismiss him as nuts—he has to make them understand that his brother is still in there somewhere

and yeah, they both kinda think that ritsu's lost his marbles a little bit, but while teru is focused on that and the fact that mob doesn't look like he's rly tuned into Anything that's happening rn, reigen is a bit more focused on the fact that both ritsu and mob look awful? they're both very skinny and very dirty, obviously barely scraping by. they're cut up and ritsu's jacket is basically blood and dirt with a little bit of green fabric mixed in. and just by the look in ritsu's eyes, reigen can tell, man ... reigen can tell ritsu is like.not okay at this point he's kinda lost it.

i think the most painful thing about this whole reunion in general is that later that night, when reigen and teru r finally like ok we get it he's,, he's still mob. we believe you (they want to believe him... [they Do believe him, later, wholeheartedly]) and they settle down someplace safe, teru asks how long mob's been like this. and ritsu has to answer "since we got separated" and they both have that to stew over while everybody else sleeps

they realize that ritsu likely watched mob turn, watched the entire process, and that process takes a long time. it's at least a week of deteriorating motor functions and cognitive skill, and the fact that ritsu stayed for that to keep mob company is .ough. and it doesn't end there bc ritsu obviously stayed after that too

given how these things usually go, ritsu probably did think about killing mob. it probably did cross his mind, bc that's basically what everybody's been told to do. kill them before they have a chance to do any more damage. and it's obvious that ritsu did not have it in him

ritsu not only did not have it in him to kill him, he didn't even have it in him to leave him there. the kid fucking took him with him. a zombie. and he's somehow made it work, for months. and the next few days are filled with watching him still treat mob like a brother and take care of him and gently steer him away from a bird he tries to follow down the wrong street.ritsu is as gentle and kind as he's ever been with his brother. and even tho they're both hungry and tired and barely making it, ritsu is doing a rly good job taking care of mob with what he's been given

the kid obviously wholeheartedly believes in a cure and that mob is still There. he's gone through the trouble to take care of him, and the grief of continuously seeing a loved one that many would consider effectively dead, to get him that cure. to get him his brother back. and mob doesn't seem to be in any pain or distress, so reigen and teru think that this path ritsu has followed is probably infinitely kinder than the mercy kill method they've been taught to do

i think they have a new respect for ritsu, after that reunion