#no matter how impossible that is to do practically or how cringe some of the dialogue that you lot love so much is when said out loud

[delicatefestcloud]

If you put a less-than-intelligent take about the movie in the rwrb tags I will respond and you probably won't like it. Keep ur dumb*ss takes to yourselves or disable the replies lol

[ominoose]

𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Pairing: Jake Lockley x AFAB!Autistic!Reader Summary: Short fluff self-insert with Jake because fandoms gotta become cringe again. Also shout out to Bigfoot enjoyers! Warnings: None WC: 779

“And so like, they weren’t even just screaming, they were vocalising! Phonetically they were forming words, like there was cadence to it, y’know?!”

“Mh hm.” Jake nodded, nursing the coffee mug in his hand, watching the short woman pace back and forth across the kitchen, her own cup of tea completely forgotten and abandoned on the table like many others over the ages. Poor things.

“And- And the University of Wyoming studied the recordings for a year! And guess what!”

The man was an expert at this, and knew well the question was rhetorical, there wouldn’t be enough time to actually get a ‘What?’ in there. Instead, he widened his eyes a little as he took another sip of bitter coffee, waiting expectantly for the next revelation.

“They said the noises were from lungs that were larger in capacity than humans! And it was an actual deliberate language!” The huge grin, wide eyes and shaking of her hands marked the clear importance of the sentence, this was not a finding to be taken lightly.

“No way.”

Coming home from a late shift in the cab, Jake usually would’ve poured a glass of whiskey, kicked off his shoes, loosened his tie and claimed the couch to binge some shitty reality tv. Sue him, it was entertaining to be invested in drama that was less world ending over godly feuds and more Becky's boyfriend kissing her ex. If his girl came to sit beside him and let him use her thighs as a stress toy, it was the recipe for a perfect night.

When he came home tonight to see his beautiful girl practically bouncing on her toes, hands stimming, actively chewing back a smile and practically bursting at the seams with some hot info instead, how could he not walk over and get his fill? After all, she info-dumped with more passion than any gossip the Kardashians could give. As her man, it was his solemn duty to share her burdens, even if that burden was her excitement over some Bigfoot evidence from some random American woods.

“I also heard that the area the sounds were recorded historically had a lot of Chinese settlers- and the vocalisations have a large resemblance to Mandarin! I mean that, like, implies the Bigfoot community only either cropped up at that period or something but, like, it’s still insane I mean can you imagine we haven’t encountered Bigfoot yet because they all speak Chinese and can’t understand us?” How she spewed so much without taking a single breath was a mystery in and of itself, those crypto-whatsits oughta look into that.

“Who’s ‘we’, bebita? There’s only one American in this room and that’s me. Stop trying to steal my guy.”

“Your guy?” The smile on her face grew, adoring that he entertained her info-dumps and enamored with his cheek, “Since when did Bigfoot go to New York?”

The Latino shrugged, completely nonchalant as he drained the last of his coffee.

“When he calls my cab to take him there.” The curl of his lips betrayed his own amusement and the short woman giggled as she bounced into his lap, hands patting his shoulders.

Stimming was still a relatively new concept to Jake. To him, he understood it as needing to shake off big feelings, good or bad, before they drowned you. He could understand that, feelings were a fuckin’ lot even to him, and he didn’t have autism (no matter how much his amor tried to peer review him, he’d dodge those accusations like he dodged the Avengers).

Seeing her stim to him, with him, over him, that was intimate. That coiled into his very soul, snug and warm. Knowing her feelings for him were so strong, so intense she had to literally, physically, manage them before they made her heart explode? It was literally impossible for the thoughts in his head to try and do some self-sabotage. No one could tell him she didn’t love him, not even himself.

That wasn’t even accounting for the obvious fact that she felt safe enough to shake her heart around right in front of him, with that beautiful smile too. She’d kill him before any bullet or cultist ever could, and he’d accept it with open arms.

“You think that Mothman guy and Bigfoot are amigos? Think they’ve ever hooked up?”

The light in her eyes when he casually sprinkled her other hyper-fixation in there, always making a point of showing he remembered each and every detail of her spiels, could lead him out of the darkest black hole.

“You’re weird, Jake Lockley.” Her giggle was girlish, high pitched and sweet as honey, “They’re divorced, actually.”

[drdemonprince]

It's been interesting watching this conversation about cultural alienation play out, people have made some good contributions.

One small thing that I can put on the table as an offering, before scuttling away again, is that in Australia, we talk a lot about "cultural cringe" as a specific type of colonial cultural alienation, where there's a pattern of assimilated white Australians talking about how Australian culture is empty and meaningless and there's nothing of value here - before whirling around and putting another culture on a pedestal as being more "valuable" or "authentic."

This is a simplification ofc, but that's the general kind of dynamic. The wikipedia page for "cultural cringe" is actually pretty good, too, if anyone's interested in a lengthier description. Historically, this was often a "the colony is inferior compared to Britannia The Colonial Motherland" flavour of bullshit. But the prevalence of that concept in conversations about "Australian culture" means that there's an existing vocabulary to make it more normal to talk about how White Australian culture is affected by colonial alienation and shame.

Like, an example would be conversations among leftists about grasping onto a recently invented neopagan cultural practice that claims to be descended from some pre-Christian European tradition but which actually has blatant appropriation and eclecticism. It seems like US conversations about that would often jump straight to talking about cultural appropriation and the ways in which that is racialised and fetishised. But here, there tends to be an earlier stage where someone asks "well are you doing this because of cultural cringe?" And these conversations can obviously still be very crude and muddling and unhelpful, but it's... I don't know, I guess there's just more of a commonly accepted expectation that the assimilated white population need to talk about cultural alienation and disconnection and shame, in order to make sense of their own relationships with cultural practices, and interrogate the idea of "authenticity" and why some things are seen as "culturally authentic" and others aren't etc etc.

I don't know, I don't have a specific point to make by raising this, but I just think it's interesting. It sounds like maybe the concept of cultural cringe isn't talked about as much in the US, which would make sense if a culture around American exceptionalism creates an expectation that assimilated white US stuff would be put on a pedestal in the first place. But it's just kind of vaguely interesting, watching US people talk about white supremacy and colonial cultural alienation in ways that have clear parallels with the way that the conversation happens here, but without the same vocabulary of concepts to refer to.

It's impossible to have a conversation about whiteness, colonialism, cultural connection, and the way that assimilation into the value systems of white supremacy affects the way that you emotionally relate to cultural practices, without going "where is the shame and emptiness actually coming from and in what ways is it warping our analysis of this culture?"

And the historical "inferiority compared to the colonisers" is being followed by a present wave of "inferiority compared to the colonised." But it doesn't matter what superficial cultural practices you grasp onto, if the same underlying value system and shame and insecurity gets swept along and projected onto whatever you interact with, you know? The problem isn't just about "not having" culture, it's about the emotional tone of how you relate to the culture that you do interact with.

So it's useful having a way of referring to the mess created by cultural cringe, it can help make these conversations a bit less about immediate accusations of appropriation and a bit more about helping each other explore the roots of shame and alienation that might be driving someone to grasp for something else.

I don't know, just thought I'd throw that out there in case anyone wants to mull it over.

Yo this is SO helpful. Bc it has occured to me in a lot of these conversations that so much of what get critiqued as appropriation on the micro level is really just someone at worst being wack and annoying and oblivious and entitled -- cringe. Not the same thing as colonization writ large. Thank you for sharing!

[nahoney22]

Hello! Sorry, back at with a nother request. Definitely no stress! I just thought something cute between Wrecker and a female reader who is super short and tiny would be cute or funny. I could see h just being fascinated and amused at the size difference. Again, definitely no stress. Hope your doing well and practicing proper self care!

Double, no Triple

Wrecker X F!Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none, mainly fluff. Short female reader. Meet-cute. Not proofread. Flirting. Teasing. Slight mentions of stereotyping short reader.

Authors note: I’m glad that you’re willing to request from me again. Thanks for the kind words. 😌 Queued Post. Sorry the wait.

"And there we have it."

You grunted, struggling to maintain your balance as your boss carelessly added another box to the towering stack you were already carrying. The load was now so immense that it obscured your entire head from view. Suppressing your frustration, you couldn't help but mutter under your breath, "Why couldn't someone else handle this?" Your bitter remark elicited a chuckle from your boss, who promptly sent you on your way.

Usually, you didn't mind taking on delivery jobs. They provided a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere of the shop and allowed you to breathe in the fresh air. Moreover, you did enjoy taking a leisurely stroll through the bustling city stalls on your return.

However, today was an entirely different story. The towering boxes you were burdened with made it impossible to indulge in such pleasures. You could barely see where you were going, and with every accidental collision, you found yourself offering apologies to everyone.

If only you were a little taller, this wouldn't be such a challenge. Although your stature was far from commanding, what you lacked in height, you made up for with personality and heart.

Although you thought you knew the route like the back of your hand, the darkening streets, engulfed in the shadows of towering buildings, gave you an inkling that you might be heading in the wrong direction. Letting out a sigh of frustration, you dropped the boxes with an exasperated huff, cringing at the sound of something shattering inside. In that moment, your focus shifted entirely from the contents of the boxes to your surroundings, desperately trying to figure out where you had ended up.

As you glanced at your data pad, frustration evident on your face, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Setting a waypoint that would emit a reassuring ding each time you moved in the right direction, you turned to the scattered boxes on the ground, placing your hands on your hips and letting out another exasperated sigh. "How am I going to pick all of you up?"

Suddenly, a booming voice echoed from behind you, causing you to jump in surprise. “Need some help there, ma’am?”

You turned around to find a towering figure approaching. Clad in dark armor with a helmet adorned with a painted skull, he exuded an aura of intimidation. If it weren't for the desolate street and the absence of bystanders, you might have felt more at ease. However, as he halted in front of you, you couldn't help but gulp, craning your neck to meet his gaze.

He was far taller than you, doubling, no, tripling your height. But as he removed his helmet, revealing kind eyes, your apprehension began to fade.

"I said, do you need some help, ma'am?" he repeated, gesturing towards the scattered boxes. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realised you had been standing there, silently gazing up at him instead of responding. Pausing for a moment, you felt a hint of apprehension.

"That depends..." you replied slowly, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, noticing the prominent scar across his raised eyebrow. "Are you just going to pretend to help and then steal them? I'm a lot tougher than I look, I'll have you know."

He let out a warm and hearty chuckle that instantly brought a smile to your face. "I don't doubt tha’ for a second," he chuckled, raising an eyebrow before extending his hand down towards you. "Name's Wrecker."

You reciprocated with your name, shaking his hand firmly with your own, feeling the strength in his grip. "Nice to meet you, Wrecker. But yeah, I could definitely use some help. I took a wrong turn and now I can't pick them up."

"Not a problem for me!" he exclaimed with a grin. You watched, impressed, as he effortlessly lifted the boxes, balancing them atop one another with just one hand. "Where are we headed, lil’ lady?"

You rolled your eyes playfully at the nickname, a common one you often received, but somehow, the way he said it seemed endearing.

As you both set off in the correct direction, the weight of the conversation became as light and easy as the burden of the boxes had been lifted from your hands. Engaging in small talk, you discovered that Wrecker was not only talkative but also strong and incredibly likable.

"So, why didn't your boss assign someone, you know, bigger for this task?" Wrecker asked, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"Funny, I actually asked the same question," you replied with a sigh of relief, grateful that the boxes were now safely in the hands of this gentle giant. "I suppose they trust me enough."

He chuckled, his laughter resonating warmly. Then, he inquired about your line of work, and you learned that Wrecker was a soldier—a clone for the GAR. "You're much larger than the other clones, if you don't mind me saying," you remarked, genuinely curious.

"Not at all. It's only fair that ya talk about my height when I've mentioned yours multiple times," he replied sheepishly, puffing his chest out proudly as you continued walking together. "I actually serve in a different unit than the 'Regs'."

"But enough about me," he said, his gaze locked with yours as you approached the drop-off point. There was a twinkle in his eye that caught your attention. "Are you single?"

You took a sip of water from the canteen attached to your hip, nearly choking on it in surprise, which only elicited another hearty laugh from him. "Well, are you?" he pressed, his curiosity evident.

"Slow down, buddy," you giggled softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his question. It amazed you that he seemed genuinely interested in such a short span of time. "We've only just met."

"Just an innocent question. You don't need to answer," he replied softly, placing the boxes down as you reached your destination. He turned to face you, his expression open and attentive.

"If you must know," you began shyly, realising that there was no reason to shy away from the possibility of a friendship or even a romantic connection, "I am single."

A coy grin played on his lips, and he nodded appreciatively. "That's surprising."

"Oh, really?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow in playful curiosity.

"Yeah, you're cute," he said casually, though a touch of nervousness crept into his voice as he rubbed the back of his head.

You smirked, meeting his gaze directly. "Cute as in 'I could put you in my pocket because you're so small cute,' or...?" You raise your hands using air quotations.

He let out a soft chuckle, his eyes filled with sincerity. "As in, ‘I think you're a beautiful girl. And I'd like to take you out one evening’. If you're free." His words were gentle, his nerves palpable.

As you gazed up at him, a myriad of emotions swirling within you, you found yourself considering his proposition. The blush on your cheeks deepened as his smile widened, and your heart danced with excitement. Giving in to the temptation, you decided to take a leap of faith and accept his offer. You shared your contact details with him, your grin mirroring his own.

"I'd like that, sure," you say, your voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. His eyes sparkled with delight as he nodded, a happy expression adorning his handsome face.

"W-Well, that's great!" he exclaimed, his words accompanied by a slight stutter, clearly surprised that you had agreed. "But I'd also like to put you in my pocket sometime too," he added with a mischievous smirk, his playful remark drawing a giggle from you.

A gentle warmth spread through your heart as you returned his smile. It was as if Wrecker could read your thoughts, because you wanted to lean up and kiss his cheek for both a farewell and for helping you out. But seeing as there was a significant height difference, he takes the lead and takes your hand, leaning down and kissing it gently.

"I hope to see ya soon," he murmured softly. "Don't go asking other guys to help you with more boxes anytime soon, unless it's me." His words held a touch of fake possessiveness, his playful tone and genuine smile making your heart flutter even more.

You chuckled, feeling a newfound connection forming between you. "I promise, Wrecker. You'll be my go-to guy for any box-carrying needs.”

With a final exchange of smiles and a lingering sense of anticipation, you both parted ways, leaving you with a mind full of excitement for the future.

Masterlist

More Wrecker Works

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @imalovernotahater @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 1 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness

[annestie]

Like It Will Ever Happen

Summary: Lo’ak makes a seemingly impossible bet with some rather unfortunate consequences, thinking it would never happen. Poor Lo’ak’s never had that good of luck

Pairing: Ao'nung x Neteyam

Word Count: 640

Notes: For Day 13: Joke of @bellakotzent on Tumblr Avatar Valentine's Week.

Kind of late but I've blistered my finger and so I've been fighting through the pain to write lmao. Also my sleep schedule is fucked and I'm literally running on pure will power and monsters though that's kind of typical for me.

It starts as a joke. Betting the strangest bets they can with some odd consequences. They’re bored and its entertainment. Really there’s no need for more explanation.

“I bet mom and the Tsahìk will become best friends in the next year,” Spider says, laughing. “I will do everyone’s chores for a week if that happens,” he adds as a consequence.

“How do we make that happen? I need to see you try and complete that,” Kiri tells him. She laughs but Lo’ak can tell she’s entirely serious.

“I bet your parents will have another child within the year,” Rotxo says. Lo’ak cringes at the thought, their marui is already so full, though Spider, him and Kiri are on the verge of moving out. “I would repair all the nets in the village for a month.” Rotxo chuckles.

“No, we just got more room with Neteyam moving out,” Spider complains.

Finally thinking of a good bet, Lo’ak joins with, “I bet Ao’nung and Neteyam will get together in the next month. I’ll allow Tuk to finally give me that makeover if I’m right!” He couldn’t imagine them ever getting their feelings in order quick enough for that.

“Do you promise?” Tuk asks, excitedly. She’s practically jumping from where’s she seated.

“Yeah sure,” Lo’ak tells. “Like it ever will happen,” he then says to Spider quietly as they both snicker.

A few weeks go by and suddenly Lo’ak notices something strange. It’s a normal day in the village, another boring one, but normal, nonetheless. He’s hanging around the rock with the group as they usually do after their morning duties are complete. Talking, chatting, nothing out of the ordinary.

Then, Neteyam walks by and stands beside them, leaning against one of the rocks. It’s his outfit that has Lo’ak taken aback. Neteyam wears a shawl covering his shoulders and upper chest made from a tawtsngal. A tawtsngal.

People only wore such clothing back in the forest on special occasions. Specifically, on dates with people they hoped to be mated with.

Kiri’s the first to say anything about it. “Brother, what is the occasions?” she asks.

“Does it matter?” Neteyam counters, crossing his arms.

Kiri raises an eyebrow. “It does when you’ve let your hair down and are wearing a tawtsngal.”

Lo’ak hadn’t even noticed that. Neteyam’s hair is loose, out of the braids he normally has, and two strands in the front are pulled back for a half up half down kind of look.

“What is a tawtsngal?” Tsireya curiously questions them.

Lo’ak explains to her, “A plant in the forest. Clothing is made from it for things like dates.”

“Fine. I do have a date tonight,” Neteyam finally confesses.

“Really?” Lo’ak says without really thinking. In the few years they’ve lived on Awa’atlu, Lo’ak has never seen Neteyam accept any confessions.

Neteyam sheepishly lets out a small laugh. “Yeah, this is actually our third date.”

“Where are you two going?” Lo’ak asks.

“Around. I’m taking my ikran and he is taking his tsurak.”

“Around to the spirit tree?” Spider teasingly asks him.

“Shut up and no, mom and dad would kill me, and his parents would probably as well.”

“So, who is this date with?” Kiri looks for him expectantly awaiting answer.

Neteyam opens his mouth to say when Ao’nung walks by. “Hey, Neteyam, are we still good for this evening?” Ao’nung asks, leaning on the same rock Neteyam’s on.

“Of course,” Neteyam responds.

“No!” Lo’ak yells.

“Yes!” Tuk yells at the same time.

The couple stare at them confused. “Do I want to know?” Ao’nung asks Neteyam, looking bemused as Tuk celebrates and Lo’ak wallows in whatever is causing his misery.  

“I am not sure either,” Neteyam responds, looking the situation the same.

“I’m going to get the paint!” Tuk yells before standing and running off.

“No!” Lo’ak dramatically shouts.

Tawtsngal: A plant that grows in the forest, sometimes worn by young na'vi looking for a mate (More Info! There's actually a lot of cool info about a lot of different plants here. Check it out if you can, it's really interesting)

[nenekobasu]

the two most notable taunts to the reader blue lock presents this chapter can be grouped into two:

first, isagi calling kaiser's shot unreproducible in his mind ("even if it's impossible to reproduce")

the true evil of this taunt is how it's presented as a throwaway thought. but digging into it,

—isagi applies the "is it reproducible?" question to kaiser's shot but doesn't apply the question to his own two-gun for some reason, even though two-gun is based on the original unreproducible miracle goal

—once upon a time, isagi thinking of a shot as "unreproducible" would have completely sunk the value of the player in his mind— this was seen in isagi's valuation of nagi manshine goal— but here it doesn't. there isn't any clearer sign that "the ability to reproduce success" isagi used to prize no longer matter to him, because blue lock's principles no longer matter to him

—isagi two-gun was based off nagi's unreproducible miracle goal. this part isn't in the chapter i just needed to say it again

(as a note, i don't believe that kaiser's goal is unreproducible, it's been clearly established that the goal is a result of kaiser's diligent practice and if all the same elements from ch.265 were back in place i fully believe he could do it again. i wouldn't fault isagi for not knowing that the shot had been a product of practice and theory, but it stands out to me that isagi slaps onto it the concept of "reproducibility" without actually analyzing the goal substantively after it was scored)

second, the running (non)issue of isagi's physical specs

—this one is contained in the flow of rin thinking that while he's improved technically he isn't at isagi's level, which suggests isagi's ability transcends technical ability—> isagi thinking out that his individual ability isn't on kaiser's level, but it's okay because he has hiori and kurona. neither rin nor isagi think isagi lacking in physical specs as compared to his rivals is an issue, and isagi specifically thinks it's not an issue because he has a system (cursed AND cringe)

in my opinion, isagi not being as technically skilled or physically impressive as others is not by itself an issue. the reason i'm treating it like it is, is because there was a time when blue lock did— in manshine, it was sort of a deal that isagi didn't have the physical ability to keep up with his ideas, and we know that it was because isagi himself explicitly told us that it was. what happened was that ubers match dropped the issue like a bag of frozen fish in favor of "i don't need to improve as an individual anymore because hiori's presence will let me do what i want" (he did this in the match that was supposed to be about duels by the way. i just needed to mention that again), and pxg match slapped a two-gun shaped bandaid on it and called it a day.

so overall, isagi being technically less skilled wouldn't be an issue, but not only is isagi treating it as unimportant in open defiance of his past self, the manga uses rin's narration (as it did before with hiori's and kaiser's?) to lead the reader on the path of not worrying about it because it's not important. instead of acknowledging and confronting the issue of isagi's physical specs like it did in the past, the story pulls these tricks to evade and minimize the existence of the problem. this more than anything is the reason isagi's absolute strength is absolute cap, which is a sad thing to say about a boy who believes he's on the cusp of number 1 but he also questioned the reproducibility of kaiser's goal (which was based on practice) while ignoring two-gun ("idk i just did it") so this is only the natural development of a player so caught up with his supposedly superior vision that he becomes blind to himself and to his own truth

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

You know how every like 5 years or so you remember the cringe things you’ve done and for sure grown out of? Like when you embarrassed yourself at 12 or something and now at 16 you’re like what was I thinking?? Anyway I can’t wait until you’re 27 looking back at this blog one day or remembering it at work or something only then to finally realize why people make such a big deal on protecting minors (you) from smut. You’re just a rebellious teenager like we all once were, but I promise you will have your moment of clarity. Everyone I know has experienced it including myself. The only thing I can ask you politely to not do is further advocate that age 17 means nothing when 18 is right there. I know you’re only referring to it here on this blog but that alone is a dangerous rhetoric, it’s what predators use to justifying preying on teens (“I’ve been waiting for you” “You’re so mature for your age” “You’re practically an adult, no one has to know”) and it’s what teenagers up to 19 even use to justify their behavior (“I’m almost an adult, so what if a 33 year old likes me that’s legal!” “I’m not like others my age, I’m mature enough for this”). You’re only thinking about your blog which is fair and understandable but I wanted to help provide insight as to why what you’re saying can ultimately be harmful in the grand scheme of things. The wrong person, the wrong reblog, and someone might get hurt. Be careful on the internet, it’s way more dangerous than we typically think about.

Okay, rude.

And yes, I do know that. I've had that happen many times because I was a very troubled and lost child that has gone through some shitty fucking years. And guess what, I lived.

"Man, I can't believe I wanted to kill myself a couple of years ago, how cringe."

AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN, I'm turning 18 in less than 3 months.

If I look back and regret this, that's a me problem, Bae, and not something you need to be concerned with. Worry about yourself.

You do not know and have no right whatsoever to make assumptions about me.

You only know what I choose to show.

I was talking about myself specifically in the regards of writing and posting smut. I started writing and posting smut when I was 17, so not even for a year.

I'm not responsible for anyone but myself on the internet. Not once did the topic of grooming come up.

I'm not a mother to the children on the internet.

I'm not responsible for how people (*cough* you*cough) interpret my blog, my posts or anything else.

This is my blog, on which I share my writing and my ideas. If a random child chooses to live by what I say, that's not my fault nor my concern.

You cannot keep children away from the internet. It's literally impossible nowadays.

And if I hear one more person say wE'rE tRyInG tO pRoTeCt yOu I will actually vomit.

You are not responsible for me.

Because where were you, O holy savior and person of everything righteous, when I discovered porn at the age of 12.

Where were you when that has happened and will happen to other 12 year olds?

How about you fucking concern yourself with problems like this that actually matter, instead of terrorizing me for having a hobby that occasionally includes tame sexual themes.

You can talk to me again when porn sites stop popping up when you put "sex" in the search bar.

And guess what, someone who's 22 now can look back in those revelating 5 years and also think they're blog wad a bad idea or cringe.

Now get out of my fucking inbox.

[lights-in-the-night-blog]

"Society goes forward."

I don't agree.

I'd personally say that just because technology goes forward doesn't mean that people do as well. In fact, some people go backward and I believe that today's literature more than enough proves it. I may not be an expert, but every time I read something old, I take a moment to stop and think: "What happened to the art of writing?". It seems like every book I see people read is about the level of "spice" (aka how much perverted things it includes). Don't get me wrong, there were many problematic and perverted things even back in the day, but I feel like it wasn't as popular as it is now. I find it very sad how when I go to school, most of my classmates read a lot of things that include disgusting topics (I don't mean only perverted things since I can understand that people have their own tastes, but also uncomfortable and illegal things). What happened to thinking about life? What happened to the meaningful writing? What happened to the kind of writing that made us question the world around us? Most writers I see are only focused on the perverted side of human desires. What about the other side? What about the desires that want to know more about our society? What about the desires that want us to know more about the world we live in? Some old books are boring, yes. I won't argue with that. But it may be because you were forced to read it by your teacher or someone else. What if you grabbed an old book that YOU are interested in? You would probably see what I mean. I know a poet who wrote beautiful poems about his dead daughter. His name was Jan Kochanowski (yes, a Polish poet). Our teacher told us to learn one of his poems. Was it annoying to try and remember all of it? Yes, but other than that the poems were beautiful. I know a writer who wrote a beautiful masterpiece of a book. His name was Antoine De Saint-Exupéry. He wrote a beautiful book called "The Little Prince". As someone who doesn't cry often, this made me tear up. It's a beautiful story about adults' flaws, children's innocence, love, friendship, maturing and letting your inner child out. My favorite book. I highly recommend it! I wish people still made books like this. Or maybe they do? Maybe they do, but are not as popular as the "spicy" ones, so not many people know about them? But the problem might also be in the lack of words. We stopped being poetic because it started being "cringe". We adore it when it's said by an attractive fictional character, but we hate it when it happens in real life. For me, it doesn't matter if the poem is "professional". What matters is that someone at least tried because they were seeing the same beauty in poetry that I was. Even if something went wrong. I'm not saying that I'm better than anyone. No, God forbid!!! I can admit that there are many people who are more funny, kind, smart and mature than I am. It's impossible to be the best after all, isn't it? In fact, I can also admit that most people find me boring (due to my interests which include philosophy). I just hope that our literature won't lose all the beauty it once had. But at the end of the day, I'm just a random person on Tumblr who shares their opinion! And to any begginer writers who I may have offended by this: Don't worry! Remember to practice when something doesn't seem right to you! You don't have to be born a pro! Never give up and you will reach your dreams sooner or later :)

[black-rose-writings]

https://at.tumblr.com/black-rose-writings/what-is-darkling-capable-of-like-what-are-all-his/8eil9ewg4eue

Thank you for answering my question! I was also wondering what type of grisha are there? And what powers and abilites do grisha have?

I have only seen the show and I'd like to know more about grisha and their abilities!

So, firstly, there are three "Orders" of Grisha

Etherialki (aka Summoners) - control "liquid" elements. Powerful etherialki can create the Cut (impossibly thin and powerful "blade" made out of their element which can cut through basically everything with ease).

Materialki (aka Fabricators) - control solid materials, including plants

Corporalki - control living matter

Then, each other separates into different types. It should be noted that the types are not completely exclusive and it is possible for a Grisha to learn the abilities of a different type or order. It is however done relatively rarely in modern times.

Etherialky sub-types:

Tidemakers - control water in all states (liquid, vapor, ice)

Squallers - control the air - they can manipulate air pressure, create wind and control temperature around them (Squallers are known to work as living air conditioners in Kerch). With some skill, they are also able to create lightning, though this ability is rarely taught in the Second army as it is considered too volatile and hard to control once created. Powerful Squallers (or groups of them) might also be able to manipulate weather for the reasons mentioned above. They might also be able to teach themselves how to levitate. Anything beyond wind and temperature manipulation is considered advanced and only very powerful and skilled Grisha will be able to do it safely (meaning with a reasonable elvel of control)

Inferni - control fire. Or, more specifically, flamable gases. They still need something to ignite those gases, so many Inferni in the book carry around a lighter (or whatever it's called) and in teh show, they appear to have special gloves that give can create sparks with certain movement, allowing them to create fire more quickly (the gloves might also provide a level of insulation from fire, as I think we don't know for sure how fire resistance Inferni actually are).

These are fairly common. But there are also two "special" types of Etherialki.

Shadow Summoners - they control shadows. There has only ever been two known Shadow Summoners, Baghra and Aleksander. Baghra is the daughter of Ilya Morozova (cringe) and it is possible her powers are the result of his meddling with Merzost. Shadow Summoners are extremely powerful and do not appear to age significantly once they reach maturity (in the books), as Aleksander is described as looking to be maybe 20-something and while Baghra trips everyone's "ancient" alarm, she physically looks to be maybe in her 30s. (more on Grisha aging at the end)

Sun Summoner(s) - control light. There has only ever been one known born Sun Summoner (Alina). It is up for debate whether the Sun Summoners created at the end of R&R are real Sun Summoners. Sun summoners are able to conjure beams of light and bend it to make themselves or things around them invisible.

Types of Materialki

Firstly, Materialki types are more akin to specialisation than hard(ish) division like for Etherialki. There is a huge overlap between the two types. But in short:

Alchemi are magical chemists. They manipulate matter on molecular level. In practice, they make things like explosives, salves and drugs. They can also do thing like removing poison from water.

Durasts primarily work with solid material - bones, wood, stone, metal, glass etc. They are effectively telekinetics. They can also change shape of those things and mold them together. Skilled and powerful Materialki can also affect elements on a subatomic level, changing one element into another (though without further help, such as parem, the resulting material will be radioactive).

They can also leech color from things (such as plants), force plants to grow/flowers to bloom.

Types of Corporalki

Again, Corporalki types are specialisations. In fact, we are told that there is a great degree of choice in which path a given Grisha takes and there's a great overlap between what they do (A Healer can do basic Heartrending and Heartrender can do basic Healing.)

Healers are exactly what it says on the tin. They can heal people - speed up healing of skin and flesh, fix broken bones etc. Resulting scarring, residual pain and speed of the healing appaears to be based on the Healer's power and experience.

Heartrenders, on the other hand, manipulate the body in "damaging" ways. They can damage internal organs, cause pain etc. They can also sense heartbeats of the people around them and can manipulate the speed of the heart and blood pressure of themselves and others. Some heartrenders can also learn to manipulate people's emotions by making their brain release certain chemicals (this is Nina's specialisation in the books).

Special Grisha

There are also Grisha, who don't really fit into any of these boxes.

The only one of these types we meet in the books (or show) are Tailors (like Genya), who are between Corporalki and Materialki. In later books, any Corporalnik can learn Tailoring, but their results are going to not be as high quality or last as long.

You might also count "Zowa" as their own separate thing. Generally, "Zowa" is a Zemeni (people from Novyi Zem, Grishaverse's black ethnicity) term for Grisha, however, as they learn and teach their powers differently from "mainland" Grisha, they do and up not being as closely confined to their orders/types.

(Spoiler) Jesper's mother, who taught him how to use his powers, is mentioned having abilities, that might reach into healing or water manipulation, despite being classified as a Durast. I have an old post, where I go deeper into the Grisha/Zowa thing.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, just what I can come up with from memory.

[laylawatermelon]

So I just wanted to vent about this because I don't know why I'm so upset.

(very long post ahead read at your own risk) ps heavy topics implied/vaguely referenced (racism, school s-, outing, etc)

Watching Heartstopper for the first time when it first came out was kind of hard for me. For the first time in my life after about 18 or so years of living in an ultra religious dangerously othering country that quite literally promises (very bad things let's say) about queer people and others in general really I had given myself permission to just enjoy.

To not do the cringe and gag as I was taught in TV and in the church, to not roll my eyes and be hateful. To not dismiss an experience I don't understand.

To not let religion rule my every being and stop me from loving and receiving love and it is. Just love. No labels or anything. It was a romance show.

I had only (very scared may I add) watched one other queer media and every time I had watched one it felt like some omnipotent presence (the church or worse my ironically bigoted dad who happens to be black btw) to burst in and yell

HEY! THAT'S GAY!

(it's funny but not at the same time)

For the first time I allowed it to be on the big screen, my tv screen (as god intended) and allowed myself to see love.

I have been working out my identity since graduating high school and am still working the kinks out. I realized even when I was in the midst of hate I ironically had multiple queer couples (lesbians mostly) in my books. Hell my first book that made me decide to be an author has a grumpy and sunshine couple and I was like yep seems right.

I never thought it was wrong but when I'd leave the comfort of my imagination and my world I realized that there was the world burning around me.

I'd seen queer couples in high school and said that made sense, and in college I was hilariously practically adopted by them for a short while in college (what can I say birds of a feather am I right?).

It's finally been to unpack years of assumptions and hate and I'd cried a lot. There were so many parallels and intertwinement of the struggles of black people and queer people, and black queer people.

I cried feeling helpless growing up seeing school marches of kids begging to be helped by the ones who swore to protect them, I cried growing up seeing news of young men being another static and not another valuable life and then I cried when I finally saw the brokenness in ignoring queer voices.

I cried for myself for feeling like I had to do something, for not being permitted to love who I want, think how I want and develop how I want.

And most of all right now I cry for the feeling of helplessness I feel sometimes.

I feel dramatic when I say I felt empty when I saw what Kit had posted on Twitter. I felt the same way when I watched Mismatched when the female character was outed in an angry rant.

I knew what that meant. I knew what it felt like.

I feels like being bare and prostrated and having yourself held up to a blinding light. To be subjugated to an impossible and immovable standard that the "norm" never have to worry about.

Alice had stated everyone was queer so I also assumed that that's what he probably was. I also think I heard myself in him when he said partner doesn't matter and it's not a big deal.

I say that everytime I talk to my mom or my family.

I want to have a partner that understands me (the subtext is always in bright red PROBABLY NOT STRAIGHT MOM). She now says she just wants me to be happy. 😊

So I accepted it.

I thought everyone did.

I didn't understand why just because he was seen filming or dating a girl (I don't quite remember) meant he had to be faking it. Newsflash he's an actor first of all.

When straight actors have crossdressed and made fun of queer people or even portrayed them in the however long of stardom they never get the same treatment. They get the how brave, how amazing. WOW! He'll even kiss a guy/sarcastic

I was just so hurt and upset. Then all of a sudden there was discourse and I just hated every minute of it.

I've recently been kind of breaking myself away from the celebrity ideal of being turned real life idols/gods to worship that are practically stalked and gawked at. I hate everything about celebrity culture.

Paparazzi=stalker. If it happened to a normal person they'd be in jail. Or at least on a watchlist and shamed probably.

But they've turned people and their lives into the commodity to the public. They've ripped apart the mental health and lives of so many and then go quiet when they break.

It was so unfair.

I feel like it was so unfair.

And I can't help but cry because I know what it feels like to be scared. Everyone probably has at one time.

I have empathy (probably too much honestly) so I tear up when people are hurting.

And I can't help but hurt for him. I can't help but hurt for everyone I see struggling.

I wish the world was better and people were too. I just wish it was all better.

But for Kit in my mind I feel like I probably shouldn't ever meet him because I'll be a sobbing mess so I'll just write this to get it out of my system.

I see you.

I'm sorry it happened like that.

I feel you.

I'm sorry you felt like that.

I'm sorry you had to feel like that. You were young and scared and it felt like the world was surrounding you.

Something so beautiful and private was taken from you. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

I just wish he could hear it.

He also deserves a hug. A very big and warm one.

I'm still crying every time they talk about it in season 2 and it just made me sob every time they practically said it's okay tell us in your own time.

I tell that to myself in private every time I question myself about anything.

I'm so sad such a beautiful thing was taken away. And honestly my brain says he might've come out in a very cheeky way using a line from the show or in a very natural way, or even not at all.

We don't owe each other access to every part of ourselves like the Internet has conditioned is to believe.

Celebrities and us "normal people" alike. We all deserve to love and be loved.

No matter the gender, color, size, identity or anything really.

We're literally the only species that can communicate with each other and all this other weird stuff is quite literally all made up to complicate stuff.

We should love and be happy but I know that's a very idealistic way of thinking.

If you see this Kit (and everyone one else ofc) you are loved no matter where you are from, what you identify as or who you love you are valid and worthy.

You are loved even if you don't love yourself - Cleo Sol

The universe loves you and you were put here for a reason and I am quite frankly glad you are here.

Thank you for reading all this if you have I don't feel comfortable talking about stuff like this in my current circumstances but I want to advocate more.

So here, advocacy.

Love who want! Be queer and loud! Muah

[nevermindirah]

🦋🎈📡 (and a kiss 😘)

Beijos para você! (I'm being so normal about not falling down a rabbit hole about tu vs você right now djksfjdasfjds)

🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

Are people gonna like it?? (Do people like me??)

Then once I wrangle my social anxiety brain worms back to their rehabilitation corner, I'm wondering about whether the things I was trying to communicate with the fic seem to be coming across to the people reading. Do my understandings of these characters ring true for other people? Did the things I thought were poignant or funny or hot actually feel that way to people who aren't me?

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

I've been told more than once that I have a very distinctive writing style for smut. At first I just blushed my face off whenever I heard that, because oh my GOD I am publishing pornographic writing on the internet!!?!?!? and people are READING it!!?!???!!!?!??? Now that I've had some time to get used to it, I take it as a badge of honor, even when anxiety pokes through that maybe not everybody means it strictly as a compliment. You know what it's a style and it's fun and we're embracing it!

More broadly, my style has definitely changed since BoN first ate my brain. There are some elements of my older fics that absolutely make me cringe now, like the rapid-fire pov shifts (sometimes in the same sentence!) and the explosion of French pet names. No shade on those old fics, I'm glad I wrote them, and I'm glad the people who still enjoy them are enjoying them! It's just that looking back on my older stuff confronts me with how much less practice with writing fiction I had two years ago than I do now.

One element of my fic style that hasn't changed and I doubt ever will is my tendency towards complex, multi-phrase sentences. My professional life has required too much writing about legislative details; at this point it can't be reined in completely, even when I try.

A thing about my style I'm hoping will evolve in the future is I want to learn more from writers like you who are writing so beautifully and effectively in English as a second language. Using my high school Spanish to write anything more complex or poetic than "Booker piensa que Nile es hermosa y tiene razón" (Booker thinks Nile's gorgeous and he's right) feels impossible to me. But English has a much larger vocabulary than Spanish for a bunch of historical reasons, and I have access to several (but importantly not all) registers of that vocabulary for a bunch of personal as well as structural class-and-race reasons, and the significance of word choice as an element of style probably operates differently in a language like Spanish with its relatively smaller vocab inventory so that means other stylistic choices I'm completely unaware of are probably doing super cool things to express the layers of meaning I've been taught to lean on word choice to accomplish in English — this is an enormous area of comparative linguistics but one small example of the ways we can shift our writing styles to more effectively express our ideas to people with different linguistic frames of reference. All that's even more interesting given the staggering diversity of language experience among our immortal blorbos. I don't know what particular stylistic changes might be in the future for me along these lines, it's just a thing I'm thinking about.

📡why is writing and sharing your writing important for fandom?

I love that you asked this because it gives me the excuse to say fandom is important! It's part of our lives! Hobbies we do for fun and stress relief aren't The Most Important Thing In the World but they're still part of our lives and part of the world and therefore what happens in fandom matters! Nile Freeman is a fantastically rich, complex, well-drawn main character and she deserves tons and tons of fandom content about her, and I'm a part of that and so are you! Fuck yeah!

I also really cherish my part in building Jewish Booker. The overwhelming majority of Jewish representation in mainstream US movies and tv comes through filters: Jews in the 19th and 20th centuries being pushed into the entertainment industry by several European countries' discriminatory policies and that tradition carrying over in the US despite legal equality, Euro-descended Jews being model minority-ized by the post-WW2 US that very much did /not/ involve itself in that war to stop the Holocaust but chose to frame itself that way after the fact, lots of individual Jews' family trauma and internalized shame and fear of the next wave of antisemitism around the corner, etc etc. The result is most US media that includes Jews is made either by Jews who feel enormous pressure to represent our entire people in a way that's perceived as palatable and nonthreatening to white culturally-Christian people or more often by non-Jews who've absorbed decades of iterating carbon copies of what previous generations thought was palatable. US Jews invented comic books and the superhero genre and yet the first MCU property to have an explicitly Jewish character was the 6th tv show in Phase 4.

There just isn't much mainstream content about Jews in my country, one of the two places where most of the world's Jews live, made by Jews who uncomplicatedly like being Jewish and don't have big economic and cultural pressures on them to represent all of us in Certain Ways. Wow, I didn't realize this rant was building up in me until I started typing. Anyway yeah I get to be honest about what Jewishness means to me and what I think it would mean for Booker and share it with people through fandom with just a little teeny tiny bit of a filter (my own internalized stuff) compared to the many layers of mess that mainstream content has to go through before it reaches non-Jews all over the world who consume US media and who may or may not know many Jews personally.

[martianbugsbunny]

Live-Action Herc

This movie will most likely be a disaster. There, I said it, that out of the way. Also, I will be throwing a little extra shade in this post, because this is my way of playing worst-case scenario.

MEG

I don’t trust modern writers to pull of Meg in any good way. These days it seems nobody can understand the difference between sardonic wit and unkindness, so Meg will probably be insulting people left and right for no reason, which of course we’re supposed to laud her for, bc she’s just a salty queen, right? Yeah no. I want a nuanced Meg, like I had in the original. I want Meg with a dry wit and a hopeless situation but a good, if hardened, heart. Actually, getting Meg who is indebted to Hades and yes, needs help, needs saving, is going to be dubious enough. Because heaven forbid a woman is anything but completely in control *sarcastic*

HADES

He’s an icon. I love him. I also don’t know if I’m going to like any new version of him that I’m given. If he’s skinny, I riot. There’s a preoccupation in movies these days (although people would die rather than admit it) in having every character be a very specific kind of attractive--which for guys, often ends up placing them smack-dab between slim and BUILT. I think a Hades who looks more like the cartoon version, who’s fat and has a sharp nose and grey skin would be attractive. (*certain exclusions may apply, as even with these traits I may not find the specific actor attractive* *good characterization may balance out physical attractiveness in this event as well*) Also, I love his loud personality, because a lot of Disney villains are threatening in a more subtle way. Hades knows he’s powerful and he’s very obvious about knowing it.

HERCULES

Hercules is BUILT. That’s kinda the point of Hercules. But he’s still a pretty gentle man, and I fear what modern writers might do to him. Gentle women are written poorly enough; gentle men haven’t been written well since Aragorn. *for legal purposes, I am kidding* But he’s not all quippy and sarcastic, like so many male superheroes are, and I love him for it. A gentle man wins my heart much more quickly than a guy who makes obnoxious jokes at every chance he gets. Also, his love is what defines him. His love for Meg is what saves them both. His willingness to risk his life in the impossible hope that he can save her life saves both of them. A man like that is a rare find in modern cinema.

Also, if they make the romantic plot something about Herc being a real player until he meets Meg, at which point he decides to mend his ways, I will scream. That trope is so played out it’s not even interesting anymore.

VISUAL EFFECTS

They gotta pay their artists well for this one, and give them reasonable deadlines, because there will end up being a lot of visual effects. Cerberus, the Hydra, Hades’ hair--these are all things that cannot be created without at least some computer input. And if the movie is not aesthetically pleasing, or if it looks jarring or fake, I’m not going to enjoy it no matter how good the plot is. If it makes my eyeballs and my brain want to crawl out of my skull and die, the plot cannot save it. In short, I don’t want it to look as lackluster as She-Hulk did. I want it to be a cinematic masterpiece. Maybe use some practical effects, because those are underused and underrated in modern Hollywood as well. This movie should be pretty, because it’s a fantasy-type story about heroes and gods and great deeds and for Pete’s sake such high subject matter should be beautiful! AND FINALLY, THE APPARENT TIKTOK VIBE

If the dialogue is as such that the characters say things like ‘yeet’ or ‘bestie’ in normal conversation, I’m done. That’s not how people talk in actual conversations with each other. There is a legitimate difference between online dialect and in-person dialect and if the makers of this movie fail to grasp that, it’s going to be the kind of cringe that gives me secondhand embarrassment just from watching. And believe me, that makes me so uncomfortable I will not go back to watch the movie ever again. The characters should talk like regular fricking people.

Also, if there is an excess of TikTok dancing, I may cry.

Basically, TikTok provides short videos. They are meant to be short videos and short videos alone. These are not designed to provide an enduring experience like a two-hour-long movie. They are designed to grab you for the brief amount of time before your attention span fails and you move on. Trying to extend TikTok energy into a whole movie? Not gonna work, because that goes against the fundamental principles of what TikTok was made to do.

[ninjasmart]

Hello Ninja. What do you think about the wedding? Will you do more readings for HG, O and FG? Maybe FG’s gone. What’s your opinion?

I had a few questions around this wedding and I'll start with yours.

I had a really hard time trying not to laugh through the whole video online and I felt secondhanf embarrassment for everyone involved.

I'll start with the positives even though they were a rare gem. First, in my opinion Princess Eugenie makes a flob at every wedding that I've seen her and she gets roasted for good reason. That day she was flawless. So were his sisters. Simple but elegant. Perfect.

His mother was also dressed impecably but I can't stop wondering what is it that upset her so much that she was the most obvious guest who didn't want to be there. I'll get back to that in a moment.

Another thing that was done well was to not be flashy. Pun intended. Little miss Grace did end up flashing some flesh but for that later. What I meant here is - they were not tone deaf like the "Let them eat cake" lady and were not show offs. They chould have been but chose not to. At least from HG's side.

I also liked that there were no crowds of guests. They missed the mark with the intimate small wedding, though.

Now, let me start. The bride - those bow shoes looked way out of place. Maybe they were selected to show some edgy personal style but were so weird that for the life of me the image of a pig with a blue bow cannot get out of my head.

The dress - if she liked it- that's all that matters. I didn't but that's a personal opinion. Now, what I genuinely felt sorry for her is that nobody told her to put some weights on the dress and the veil. And nobody was there to help her with such a long train dress. She should have had at least 2 friends helping. Does she not have even one? Resort to the dress designer for last minute adjustments at the actual wedding is just sad. The bride didn't have someone to assist her but so did the designer.

Even if you have never been in a wedding and just wear that long train wedding dress for your own wedding- there has to be at least one fitting. It's impossible not to notice that you can't move around in this unless someone is out there to help you.

Now - the wedding guests. If they print the pictures in black and white to hide the colors in the dresses no one will think that there pictures are from a wedding. Almost everyone looked like they don't want to be there. HG's mother was the worst at hiding it but if you look at the other people - nobody wanted to be there. And if pictures were in back and white people can easily mistake the occasion for a funeral.

Now, the walking out of the church. I did not like it that even the newlyweds were not looking happy (except O - she looked like she got what she wanted). What phased me was how HG needed to instruct her that now is the time to smile and look happy. They didn't even try to make it a bit difficult to read their lips.

Turning on the happy smile for the cameras. That somehow makes me cringe. In general. Not only this occasion.

The kiss. I might be wrong here but speaking from personal experience - if you have passion with a man you tend to practice kissing before the wedding and - you don't miss. It doesn't matter who is taller, who is shorter, doesn't matter where you are or how it happens. You never ever miss where the lips are.

The wind. The wind seemed to be particularly unfavourable to O's dress. It's like it wanted to either blow her away or air that split in the dress to its fullest potential. I wouldn't compare that to a Merilyn Monroe moment. It was clear that the English weather was not accounted for and the they were unprepared. And that's just sad.

What is even sadder is that if they had a wedding coordinator at all that person didn't do well. And, every wedding needs a wedding coordinator / helper. A designer should not be kneeling down to do a bridesmaid job because no useful bridesmaid was chosen. A btide should not be fending her dress split and veil from the wind because nobody was there to help her with this clearly long dress. And most of all - newlyweds should not be reminding each other that X marks the spot where they need to smile and look happy.

I loved that the wedding looked small, intimate, budget friendly should someone want to do like the rich people did. But at the same time it looked like one of those arranged marriages.

And the bride - O looked old. I don't know who did her no makeup makeup but they were either bad at their job or did not like her at all.

I personally don't like the heavy or professional makeup because I'm lazy and don't like the multiple steps to take it off of your face. However, professional makeup is a good option for when you need to look smokig hot for an entire day. And let me tell you - instead of the photographers doing touchup it should have been the makeup artist working their mahic much, much better. And O should have at least tried to do some facial procedures - masks, massages, serums, even gua sha would have made a difference with those wrinkles.

As an ending to this - none of these 'flaws' with the wedding would have mattered or would have been a big deal if there were 2 people in love and the smiles on their faces were from happiness for marrying someone they are deeply in love with.

There's one more thing I wanted to mention here. I am not sure if it's relevant or not but in a way I feel it is. With the 2025 plan talks I am genuinely outraged that men plan to take away my choices over my body. I am pro life, that's how I was raised, but even the thought of someone passing a law nationwide taking away my choice over my body makes me outraged.

The wedding interactions between HG and O felt rehearsed and not genuine happiness. You can play happy but you can't fake happy. At some point O was desperate to grab HG's hand but it feels like this was not in the scenario for the day and was a request-ignored type of situation.

So, if a marriage is more on the arranged side - does the woman have freedom of choice over her body or she is to do whatever the arranging partner says. (For a well known billionaire we know that he did not want daughters at all and went ro great lengths to not have those female embrios develop into babies).

Anyway. There is another sad thing about this marriage. Where I am for the summer, there are many pride flags being prominently displayed. Sometimes if one apartment has two small balconies there will be two flags hanging. Mind you, this is a village on the Camino de Santiago road and every day there are about a hundred hard core christians in full trecking gear and they are all faced with the flags everywhere they go in the city.

The plan 2025 is planning to outlaw in the US the flags, the marriages. But see, unlike arranged marriages, the flag people highly likely still marry for love not for the arrangement. If we are to judge a marriage by the amount of love between two people - which one will be more pure - the one between the neighbours with the flag or the one between the happy smiles on cue.

Now for the akasha. The message I am getting on this wedding with a very strange vibe is: it was the vest solution given the circumstances.

(Usually 'the circumstances' are pregnant wife, but in this case it feels different type of circumstances. I just can't put my finger on it. And I can't help bur wondering if the circumstances have something to do with HG's mom and her displeasure at the whole situation.)

[the-valianter-valkyriest]

give me D S T !!

D - Director - How much do they feel the need to have control over their life? Do they spend a lot of time telling others what to do or and they more likely to be more obedient to others?

It's... incredibly complicated. Wigfrid would probably be under the opinion that she strays from being too controlling over the environment, but that would absolutely be a lie. When met with something she doesn't immediately know how to react to, her first instinct will probably be to jump to fear or frustration. It's one of (one of, mind you) the reasons she puts so much importance on fighting with honor, and tends to scorn those who don't follow through. Being left without power is frustrating and upsetting- especially for someone like her, who feels a bit beneath the feeling of powerlessness. Yet at the same time, it's difficult to enforce it on others aside from just... telling them to do it, and having all of them ignore her because no, Wigfrid, that's actually kind of weird, and you're weird.

But at the same time... She most assuredly doesn't truly realize, but Wigfrid has willingly handed over her little puppet strings to every cornerstone figure of her life, nearly without fail. Her old audience, her friends- even Maxwell and Charlie, to a degree. Without them even implying she needed to do so (sans her original audience who accidentally made her this way to begin with), she immediately falls back into the persona... To the point where- post New-Reign- it's become almost impossible to give herself a break, exclusively for the sake that she feels like she can't. That she has some obligation she has to force herself to uphold. And in that regard she's as compliant as she possibly could be... Just... 'compliant' to a request that wasn't even spoken yet. She's just of the assumption it would be inevitably requested were she not to be upholding it from the start.

S - Seeker - How do they go in search of new information? Do they accept ideas on faith or do they need to test out information for themselves?

Honestly... Wigfrid does not like being provided with more information after she's come to a consensus about something. Especially not in regards to whatever current mess is happening in the Constant at the time.

And yes, she knows in the long run it'll be helpful, but Wigfrid is... dangerously font of a clear cut black-and-white analysis of critical matters. Unfortunately, the more information you get on most any matter, the less black and white it tends to get. She's here to uphold good and ward off evil, she's not here to get all... philosophical- that is absolutely not her wheelhouse.

She takes information as it makes itself known to her, but it pretty much must make itself known to her. Important information given through word of mouth is very difficult for her to take at face value. Especially if the sources are likely biased ones.

T - Teacher - How often do they have to teach others? How do they go about it? How do they learn best? Do they dive in first and reflect later or study the theory of something new before putting it into practice?

Though one wouldn't call it a necessity, Wigfrid certainly finds it her obligation to ensure the survivors know how to fight beyond... swinging the nearest blunt object at the nearest threat. When she saw her new allies in combat for the first time she cringed so hard her eyes nearly burst. But for the circumstances, she tries to be an amicable teacher... Ensures the others understand the material in both theory, and practice. She wants the best for them, after all, so its important to her that they actually get what she's talking about. Even if they will willingly choose not to sometimes.

But being taught... Depending on how its done, it'll probably end up bruising her pride. She doesn't like doing things she isn't good at, so usually she just... will avoid them, when possible.

(Yet another reason she clings so firmly to her 'honor in combat' mentality... She shouldn't need to be trained to evade disgustingly slimy fighting tactics... she shouldn't need to be embarrassed before her friends through repeated failures. They should just learn to stop being cowards and fight her fair. Easy.)

[livredebelle]

Twenty.

TRY AS I MIGHT, IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO NOT OBSESS over Heath and his dark promises. During class, even though I kept forcing myself to try and listen to the professor and take notes, I would find myself wondering about what his mouth would feel like on my neck, my arms, my collarbone...

'What is the matter with me?! Ugh, I need to hurry up and get laid.'

Maybe it was because I hadn't had any romantic interests in a while (other than Quinn, but considering how short-lived that was I refused to consider it as such), but I was positive that the extent of my feelings was that my hormones were spinning out of control because I was horny. There was no other rational explanation for it, and I would accept none other regardless.

It didn't help that I was living in the same abode as the guy who was driving my hormones insanely wild in the first place.

That was it--I was going to have to put my foot down with Mother, and tell her that this arrangement was not going to work. Sure, I knew she wanted to keep him as a son-in-law candidate, but did she really want to risk me losing whatever... sense of purity I had left within me?

I cringed involuntarily. Never mind--the thought alone of having this kind of conversation with Mother made me squirm in my seat. She had never given me the sex ed talk before, so I had a hard time imagining how she'd react to my... inexperience with these matters.

Who could I even talk to, then? My sister?

No--that was probably worse! She was three years younger than me, for God's sake. How embarrassing it would be for the older sister to ask the younger about sex!

"Bah, this isn't any good, I'm driving myself mad like this."

"Excuse me, Miss Everly? Did you have something you'd like to say to the rest of the class?"

The professor, an older man in his fifties, crossed his arms and tapped his webbed foot impatiently. Oh hell, I'd done it again. I had a horrible habit of talking out loud to myself; it was a way of dealing with things I suppose? It didn't make sense to anyone, least of all me, and I usually failed to notice I'd done it unless someone pointed it out to me. Like now.

"Um... I'm so sorry, Professor. I guess I was sleep-talking or something..."

I stared down at my feet. God, my excuse sounded worse than the truth, didn't it? He was going to hate me and give mean F in the class, surely.

Surprisingly, the professor chose to ignore my shit of an excuse and instead opted to sigh dramatically before continuing with his lecture. I could tell just by looking at his face that he was hating his job right about now, and I felt bad about it, but what was done was done.

I texted Maria in my panicked horror because I had no one else I could think of to talk to.

[Oh my God, today just keeps getting worse and worse. Do you want to meet up and smoke some hookah later or something? I need to release some stress.]

[Sure. We needed to talk anyways.]

I raised my eyebrows in confusion. Huh--what could she be talking about? My curiosity piqued, I started typing a response but spotted the professor glaring at my blatant disregard for lecture. Embarrassed even further, I shoved my phone in my bag and tried to avert his eyes to the best of my ability.

I was grateful when class ended. I practically jumped from my seat, dying to escape the class. I had also noticed that one of the groupies from the bathroom incident earlier were in this class too, and I was hoping desperately that she hadn't noticed my presence the way I had hers. Not that I was scared of her or anything, but I didn't want to deal with more drama. At least, not today.

Come on, come on, let me get outta here unscathed...

I made it out as far as to the school gate when I heard a familiar, yet neither welcome nor unwelcome, voice.

"Hey, sis, I was hoping to run into you here!"

Rosalie smiled brightly, the way she always did--so prettily and daintily that I thought she was mocking me for a second. So typical of my evil brain to think that way. I blinked, as if doing so would undo the apparition before me.

"Hey, Rose. Uh--how did you know to find me here?"

"What? Silly, you sent me a screenshot of your schedule a long time ago. It's so like you to forget, but that makes sense because you're so busy." She kept smiling. "I was attending a dance rehearsal nearby, and I thought it would be nice to go grab a bite or something together. That is, if you weren't in a hurry or anything?"

I was at a crossroads--I wanted nothing more than to hurry home and take a hot shower, drink a warm chai latte, and scurry my ass off to bed for a nap. My favorite post-school routine. But Rose's face was so hopeful that I couldn't find the words to reject her offer.

"... Sure, Rose. Do you think we could make it quick, though? I do have homework to get done tonight." Not a lie, and boy was there a lot of homework. It was nothing compared to high school; welcome to the adult world, baby.

***

"Oh my God, I love taro lattes too. We're so alike it's crazy! Isn't it?"

I smiled, albeit wistfully, trying to stop my eyes from darting to the clock. We were at a cute little boba shop nearby campus, a popular hangout spot and possibly the last place on Earth that I wanted to be. But Rosalie wanted to try coming here, and I didn't have a particular preference anyway.

"How do you like the place? Worth the hype?"

"Sure! I just love that I'm here with you hanging out. It's crazy to think that this is possible now; I used to think the day would never come..."

Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip. I averted my gaze as usual and pretended I didn't notice the awkward vibe that was going between us now. Of course I had apologized to her already for leaving her behind when I ran away at fifteen years-old, and we had made up, but some things would never feel quite the same as they once had. I knew Rose was trying hard to overcome it, but for me I wasn't sure that I would ever be able to overcome my guilt.

The worst part was, it wasn't either of our faults--the cards in our lives had been stacked against us, and in our circumstances there hadn't been much that could be done. Perhaps if we hadn't been born into an impoverished family, or an abusive one for that matter. But we couldn't change the way things were, and emotional intimacy was something I found unfathomable.

Could Rose feel any different? She had always been the polar opposite of me, so maybe she wasn't as traumatized or fragile as I was...

"Earth to Irina!"

"Oh... sorry. I'm just tired, I guess, from classes. You know how I've always had a low stamina."

"Oh no! Should we mention it to Mother, so she can get you some supplements perhaps? Mother is very good at taking care of things like that."

That's what it was--what unsettled me the most about her. Rose and I had gone through all kinds of crap together, and we had used to confide in each other, which usually meant that we vented about Mother. But ever since we had been reunited, Rose would hardly say anything bad about her, and when I made a comment of the sort she would pretend she hadn't heard me. I had thought it was in my head, but now I knew for sure.

It made me wary, to say the least. Like I couldn't trust my sister--my own flesh and blood.

I was officially the worst.

"No no, don't say anything. I wouldn't want to make her worry needlessly like that. No, I just need some rest--which I can get tonight."

"Okay, if you insist..."

Again, awkward silence. Ugh, this was unbearable.

"Do you have any boy interests at the moment?" I blurted out, the first thing that popped into my head. Also the worst thing I could have chosen as a conversation topic, as I had almost zero experience with it. So chances were likely that this conversation was bound to be a short one too.

She looked startled at my unexpected question. "I--er--no, not really. I don't suppose I have the time for such things; my schedule is way too busy. Plus, Mother would be upset with me if I chose to waste my time on such trivial matters."

"What? Rose, you're sixteen. At your age, I doubt anyone would think of this as trivial."

"Well, you know Mother--she's always raised us to be independent women and get successful jobs by ourselves. She's said time and time again that my only worth is dancing, so I must give it everything I've got until I can't dance anymore..."

"That's rich, coming from her," I snorted. But then I caught her eye and she gave me a weak smile, not saying anything in response to my insult.

It irked me. I decided to push a bit harder this time.

"I mean, think about it," I said casually but carefully. "She's the least independent person--she's gotten married so many times based off of superficial trysts and affairs. Don't you think it's hypocritical of her--even a little bit--to suggest you do what she herself freely indulged in?"

Rose wrung her hands and looked out the window. "I dunno, I always felt bad for Mother, I guess. She didn't deserve all the bad treatment from the bad men who came across her path in life. It isn't nice to victim-blame, now is it?"

"You think of her as a victim?" I could hardly believe my ears.

"Why wouldn't I?" Her puzzled look baffled me further. It almost made me doubt whether we had lived through the same childhood--I went through a full minute gaslighting myself before recomposing myself.

"I think there's a fine line between being a true victim and bringing trouble to yourself. I think Mother liked the attention, so she kept pursuing men who liked to take advantage of her. And she knew they were doing it, but she couldn't do a thing because that's the type of person she is. She'd already taken advantage of them first, so what defense would she have?"

Rosalie sighed. "Can we just agree to disagree and move on from this?"

"..."

I didn't want to concede, so I sipped my taro latte loudly instead, trying not to obsess over the fact that my own little sister didn't have my back. It made her feel more like a stranger than ever.

"I don't want to keep myself beholden to the past. I want us to be a happy family again, Irina. Mother's doing her best to give us a better future, and I'm going to try my hardest to please her because I want her to keep her promises to me."

"What promises--"

"Anyway, it's about time I head back to rehearsal," she said, standing up from her seat abruptly. "It was nice to grab some boba with you during your break, sis. I'll talk to you later?"

And before I could say another word, she was out the door and gone, almost fleeing from our conversation.

***

"Isn't that just too fucking weird? She's up to something. Mother, I mean."

As we had arranged, Maria and I were sitting in our own booth at a dimly lit, dusty hookah lounge in her city, far away from anyone I knew. I was venting to Maria, the one person who knew the messy nature of my family relationships.

Maria and I had been together since high school, and as my lone childhood friend, she had the misfortune of knowing every dark secret in my private family life. All those times I showed up with a fresh bruise or wound on my face, Maria was the only one who knew the true reason behind them while I would lie to the school and blame it on my clumsiness. Yet she didn't pity me or anything like that. She listened when I had a story to tell, and she offered me rational advice afterward, and would even shelter me when the need arose. Truly, one of a kind.

"Could be, but what's the point worrying about it?" She let out a big whoosh of scented air into my face, and I stuck my tongue out at her. "I wouldn't worry about anything that hasn't happened yet."

"I can't stay calm if I know that she's plotting something behind my back. I thought it was weird ever since she forced me to move into that penthouse unit with Heath. And now, if Rose is in it too somehow, if Mother's plan is to ruin us both for her gain--"

"You really think she'd go that far?"

"Yes." I had zero faith in my mother--she had never given me a reason to change that.

At least, none were good enough.

"If that's the case, then you should probably try and get Rose to tell you what it is. In the meantime, I have something to tell you, too."

Right, she'd said as much in her text. My curiosity was even greater now. "What is it?"

"It's coming up. Abel's death anniversary."

"... Ah."

So that's what it was: Maria wanted to know whether I was going to run away again this year.

Run away from facing the truth...

... that my other childhood best friend was really dead.

"His family... they're going to do a walk in remembrance of him at the old school. I wouldn't blame you if you chose to sit out on that part. But I think at least for the wake... you should be there this year."

"It's not so simple, Maria, you know that."

"True, but that can't stop you from visiting him forever. He's waiting for us. I can feel it."

"Not fair for you to guilt trip me like that."

"I'm not trying to. Look... don't you think it's been too long already? Besides, I know you've been hating yourself for it all this time. Shouldn't you let it go now?"

There was definitely truth to those words. I had been thinking for awhile now that I needed to change, that I needed to apologize for acting like a bystander when I wasn't the only one in pain. I wanted to be someone different than who I was, but nobody changes like that overnight.

I cleared my throat. "It's not so simple. You know that his family hates me. I'd make it worse for everyone to show up there without being invited..."

"I think this time, it's different. Here--" Maria took something out of her purse and put it on the table before us. It was a business card, and when I saw the name on the card I winced a little. "I think Adeline wanted you to make the first contact so as not to burden you by reaching out first. Why don't you just try calling her... see what she wants. This could be seen as something akin to an invite."

"... Okay."

Adeline wanted to talk to me? And she had gone seeking Maria to do that? Or was it that they had been keeping in regular contact this whole time, talking about me?

My paranoia heightening, I took the business card and put it in my bag, folding it. I'd have to face my demons eventually, whether I liked it or not. I had to stop behaving like a child.

I cleaned the hookah mouthpiece and took a drag of the strawberry-flavored haze. Maria scanned my face with her deadpan green eyes, but she otherwise said nothing further, probably not wanting to pressure me too much.

I knew what she wanted from me, though--that was loud and clear. She had needed me this whole time, for the past two years. It was only right that I accompany her to face him. Together.

Like we should've always been.

Not like anything would change from the sole act of me being active for once...

No. I couldn't let myself fall into this deep pit of despair again. I shook my head as if to dispel the illusion.

"I'll call her. Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

"Shit, this isn't a business meeting, Irina."

"I'm just making sure. I know it's been harder to keep in touch after you moved and we became two cities apart, so I want to prioritize our communication."

She raised her eyebrows. "You know, you're starting to sound more and more robotic over the years. Almost like a therapist. Maybe yours inspired you too much."

I smiled faintly, choosing not to respond to that. If she only knew. I had been through so many therapists over my childhood--there was nothing I hadn't heard before. I had gotten so good at feeding that crap back to them, my latest therapist had released me from her hold with a blessing.

"You're so grown up now! Honestly, Ms. Everly, the character development you've shown me over our sessions has been quite impressive. I daresay you don't need me anymore; there's nothing left to teach you. Rather, would you mind filling out a five-minute survey regarding our behavioral therapy services at the clinic?"

It had been so funny, because I had just gotten so good at hiding my pain that even professionals couldn't tell a lie from the truth.

My latest therapist, Mabel, had been assigned to me after Abel's passing. 'To help me come to terms with reality,' the school principal had said. The entire school knew that Abel, Maria, and I had been an close--an inseparable trio. The principal didn't want to risk incurring any liability in case either Maria or I would choose to sue them for not doing enough to protect the mental and emotional stability of their students.

Mabel had been a bullshit therapist, though, hired to help with the school's PR after Abel's tragic death on campus...

Again, my mind was drifting. I refused to space out like this--not here, not now. If I did, the risk of me crumbling to dust before Maria's very eyes was high.

"I should get going soon," I said evenly, hoping I wasn't coming off as cross in an attempt to keep myself calm. "I have a shit ton of homework piling up since it's the end of the semester. Thanks for inviting me out today, though."

Not looking convinced, Maria nodded, handing me the hookah one last time. "Take it easy; you work too much and far too hard. Also, talk to your sister--it sounds like you guys have a lot to smooth out, and that will obviously take some time."

The irony of the situation not lost on me, I took a deep drag then stood, shooting my friend one helluva convincing smile.

[purecantarella]

Mary Sue

a short little fluff piece because prior to writing this i got severely depressed because of some personal matters, but i wanted to post something for you all to enjoy 😁 for those who dont know, mary sue is a character trope for someone who's practically perfect in everything they do to the point its almost irritating but it comes with good hijinks soooo ye HAHAHAH highschool!au hirai momo x reader disclaimer/s : none, just wholesome fluff

You were seen as the most well-rounded student of your highschool. Not only were you president of the student council, MVP for the baseball team, member of the school's dance society, and offering tutoring sessions for your friends and classmates, but you were the top of the class too.

It was almost irritating how amazing you were and your friends loved to tease you for it.

You walk into the classroom, uniform and hair perfectly kept, always looking your best. A small group of other girls from other classes fawning over you outside the classroom. You smile at them and wave curtly, and the mere polite action is enough to set them all off.

You chuckle to yourself before you're greeted by your friends. Eying the crowd that had formed outside, Jeongyeon smirks up at you as you slip your bag onto your table. "Ooooh, once again Y/F/N has the attention of each lower classman in the proximity."

You look back at the doorframe, younger teens giggling and whispering among themselves. You raise your brows and wave again, making them squeal with delight.

"I swear you're better than a cup of coffee to those girls, N/n." Jihyo teased as you slipped yourself atop Momo's table. You smile down at her before she looked up at you warmly, ignoring the comment Jihyo threw your way. You greet her casually, "Good morning Momoring."

You catch a hint of pink tint her cheeks before you turn back to your other friends. "They may be interested but I have my sights elsewhere." You explain ambiguously as you leaned up against the window beside Momo's table.

"Oh by the way Y/n? Can you help me after school? The history lessons are grueling this term." Nayeon asked as she fell in Jihyo's lap, wrapping an arm around the other girl's neck. You think for a moment before nodding, "Yeah sure, I'll just stop by the council office and drop off my festival proposal. Then I can help you out while administering training for the freshman on the baseball team."

Your friends look at you in awe, you look at them curiously. "How do you have time for all of that?" Jihyo asks amazed, you quirk a brow before smiling. "It's a matter of time management."

"It's not just that! You're good at all of your activities too, and you always look fresh. It's impossible." Sana adds from behind Momo who's rather preoccupied on her phone camera, fixing her bangs.

"You know what, I bet you're a bad kisser!" Jeongyeon called out making you throw your head back cackling. While everyone took the joke and laughed alongside you and Jeongyeon, Momo mumbled mindlessly, "Well that's simply untrue."

A silence echoes throughout the group. Your eyes bolt open as release an unwittingly nervous laugh while Momo just looks up confused at the sudden silence.

By the time she realizes what she says, she's rushing out an unheard explanation, "No, no, no! Wait let me explain!" A chorus of women teasing you both.

"You two have kissed?!" Jeongyeon's hands are on your shoulders quickly, shaking you playfully. "When? Where? How?"

"Well..." You trail off staring at Momo, who's now covering her face in shame.

You sat beside Momo on the floor as the books in front of you both sprawled away from her. She groans and throws her head back as you looked at her practice test. You cringed at her answers as you begun correcting them.

"I did terribly didn't I?" Momo asks hopelessly as you finished checking the paper. You sigh and scratch the back of your neck, looking back at her silently. She knew what that look meant. The dancer felt tears prick the back of her eyes before she took a deep breath and fell back onto the floor.

While she got lost in her own self-loathing, you fell back with her, lying beside her. "The school is going to kick me off the dance team. There's no way my grades will pull up in time at this rate..." You look over at her, propping yourself onto your elbow.

"Yeah, with that thinking..." You mutter making her shove your shoulder gently, you laugh gently before you see the pout on her lips. You take a deep breath before you pull her into your arms, like you did a million times before. Momo was your team captain and friend after all.

Well...among other things.

You stroke her short, dark hair before you spoke again, "You aren't hopeless. You are intelligent and hardworking. You're amazing, Momo..." You trail off, your lips pressing on the top of her head. "I wish you'd see yourself the way I see you..."

You felt her shoulders tense up and as you were about to cover your tracks, cheeks lighting aflame, Momo on top of your pounding heart. She'd always seen your in-control and calm demeanor, but seeing you like this? So flustered and fidgety? It made her smile.

"And how do you see me, N/n...?" You laugh softly as Momo gets off of you, sitting back up excitedly. You don't meet her eye, you can't. The nervousness and butterflies that fluttered in your stomach and your chest made it almost impossible to do anything but lay there silently.

She whines cutely before pulling you up making you laugh nervously, you quickly attempt to return to tutoring her, rambling about statistics in a feeble attempt to brush off the situation. Momo however, wouldn't let you do that.

She pulls the notebook out of your hand and your mouth glues shut as Momo stares at you. As she watches you fiddle with the drawstrings of your hoodie.

"You like-like me, N/n?" She asked as you pulled on the strings covering your face from her gaze. "Don't say it like thaaaat!" You whined hiding your face, embarrassment running through your veins.

You hear Momo's melodious laugh permeate through the air, it was the most heartwarming sound. You'd often crack jokes and make an adorable fool of yourself just to hear it when you two were together in the group or during practices.

You're fully aware that its a crush, everyone has them.

But you have to wonder why they have to feel so intense.

As your trying to calm yourself down internally and just return to helping Momo study for her tests, you suddenly feel her hands take yours as she tugs your hood back. Your face quickly being in front of the dancer's, you're about to jump back when she puts her hands on the back of your neck, stroking up and down.

It's comforting in the best ways.

Momo smiles warmly, leaning in, just enough for her breath to mingle with yours. "Did you really think I'd felt any different?" She makes a point by connecting your lips with hers, it's passionate yet so pure. It's everything you'd imagined when you thought of kissing Momo, from the softness of her lips to the taste of her peach lipgloss.

Momo pulls away whilst she smiles against your lips before you peck her soft ones again, and again. She giggles before placing her thumb over your lower lip. Her eyes trail up, "How is it possible you're good at that too?"

You grin proudly, kissing her lips again gently before pulling her into your lap. Picking the notebook back up from the floor. "You really know how to kill the mood, huh?"

"Do you want to pass this test or not?" Momo sighed but nodded eagerly. "Now every question you get right later, I give you a kiss. Every one you get wrong, is how many times you pay for our meals together." You look up at her with a warm smile.

"How does that sound, Momoring?" She grins, "You teach, I listen."

"Good."

"...and it sort of started from there...We've been going out for a few weeks now..." You finish while you looked down at Momo who's now looking up at you with pink cheeks. You smile before leaning down to peck her cheek.

"Wait so it still begs the question is Y/n not good at anything?" Momo smiles and pipes up, "Expressing her feelings has to be the only one." You groan as the rest of the girls laugh. Immediately, you make a point to snatch her phone from her hands. She fusses before you place the gadget in your pocket.

"Thats for exposing us and making fun me." You pout, making Momo coo softly, standing only to be able to reach your hair and run a hand through it. Your ears perk up and turn an embarrassing shade of red. The girls watch in awe as your cool and in-charge attitude melts away as the shorter dancer touches you gently. "Can I have it back, please N/n?"

"I do not like you Hirai Momo." You stress before handing her back her phone. She giggles before pecking your lips suddenly, your eyes going wide and you hear the crowd outside gasp in shock. Momo giggles before taking her seat.

"Well we've found, Y/n's weakness then." Jeongyeon butt in teasingly.

"You talk again, you're benched for the entire season."

well again, this took so much longer than i'd liked it to but i do have a lot on my roster for the next few updates!! i hope you all enjoyed this and i know the concept was a little basic but i think it's good to throw in a cute little fluff piece in every now and then, don't yall think? anyway, i intend to do better in my next update!! i will see you all vv soon, keep safe and i love each and every one of you with everything i have 💓 i'll see you lovelies soon - r