#why is making a discord server so difficult

[shitty-proendo-blackout-posts]

again, here's the link to the anti discord server that i made!! it has art channels, an infodump channel,a place to share music, and is also safe for ants!

Join the Ant space Discord Server! Check out the Ant space community on Discord - hand out with 18 other members and enjoy free voice and text chat.

we would be very happy to see you there!

[therandomartmaker]

Reasons Discord's New Mobile Layout Update is Bad

The reply function is redundant, as most people are used to just holding down and tapping the reply option at the top. If they're going to change it, they shouldn't have gotten rid of the member list for this functionally bad option. It also doesnt line up with any other platform in terms of swipe direction.

The member list is gone from easy viewing

It doesnt auto open your last group chat/DM making multiple simultaneous conversations far more difficult and longer

It's already broken my app once (Locked all channels including other servers' to one channel. I could not access anything except that and my DMs.)

You can not see images that have been pinned in the pins tab.

The search function was fine before. Where did your before, during and after date search go??

All of Discord's individuality is disappearing.

Getting used to a mobile format actually impedes usage of the desktop format and likely discourages people from multiplatforming discord because theyre so used to the "intuitiveness" of the new "tailored for mobile" experience

There is no way to CHANGE IT BACK. This is like Tumblr rolling out Tumblr Live without any Disable button At All.

Why are they marketing midnight mode as Something fucking ENTIRELY new??? It has always been a feature on Android as the AMOLED theme???????

DARK MODE IS NO LONGER LOW CONTRAST AND DISCORD IS DEVOLVING INTO AN ACCESSIBILITY NIGHTMARE

Disable swipe-to-reply by activating full-screen Launchpad in Advanced Settings

Discord’s new layout is apparently permanent. Keep sending feedback and rating it one star on all appstores; if you get redirected to the advice article, double tap gove feedback.

If you, too, dislike the theme, head to settings (you can double tap your account picture) and go to Appearance, scroll to New Layout and Send Feedback.

Overall, what they've done is disorientate every single current user on discord, and you cannot avoid it unless you've not updated to the latest discord because this is not an update. It is a feature that has already been on the latest update and is being slowly rolled out, like Tumblr Polls.

Good Luck, and may we send as much feedback as possible and have them make it optional or at the least, revert it. I've already sent in at least seven complaints to discord, commented on their instagram post about the layout and I'm about one star review it on google play and app store.

This isnt just the appearance and vibes being off like the new (ish) app icon, this is a matter of functionality.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “you just had to go and ruin something good, didn’t you?” prompts

“…Maybe you should have kept that to yourself.”

“I really wish I didn’t find out about what you did.”

“You should have trusted me.” “How dare you— You can’t be serious right now. You made it so fucking difficult for me to trust you.” 

“Things could have stayed the same if you didn’t go and run your mouth.”

“There are days when I wish you didn’t tell me how you felt.” 

“You’ve done nothing but fuck things up, so thanks a lot for that.” 

“So… What was I supposed to do? Hide how I felt and just carried on like my feelings meant nothing? Like my emotions hold no weight at all?” 

“This could have been avoided if you didn’t—” “If I didn’t what? If I didn’t tell you how I felt about you?” 

“Why are you letting my feelings get in the way of our friendship? I’m not asking you to like me back! I’m not asking for any of that so why… Why? I just don’t understand what I’ve done that was so fucking wrong that I’m being literally condemned for it by you.” 

“So you’re saying I wouldn’t have lost you all if I had just sat there and bit my tongue.” 

“I’m sorry for telling the truth. I’m sorry I didn’t want to lie.” 

“If telling a lie was the only way I could keep us together than I think I’d prefer things this way. I don’t want us to be built on lies. It’s happened before, and it fell apart right in front of me and… I don’t want to risk going through that pain again. Especially knowing I could have done something to save it from crumbling like that, but I was not brave enough to make that step.”

“Curiousity more than just screwed us over, didn’t it?”

“We wouldn’t be here if you were capable of telling even an ounce of truth.”

“It’s the fact that we lost something so dear to us because of one small detail that really didn’t need to be aired out like that.” 

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation (so you can also join in on yelling at me to go to sleep at an appropriate time)

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Martyn calls Iskall to ask to join Vault Hunters

transcript under the cut

Martyn: So, I-I don't know what I'm going to do now. I've got (coughs) a lot of time between now and when Rats SMP starts, um, in October, so…we gotta figure something out. My gosh. I tell you what, actually, I do have one idea. Let me…let me make a call real quick, hold on. Let me see what I can do…there we are. (Discord beings ringing) Martyn: Give me a second. (call is picked up after ringing a few times) Martyn: Hello. Iskall: Hello? Martyn: Hello! H-how are you? Iskall: Hello? I--wh--I thought we agreed not to ring each other on Discord. Why--how have you managed to get my Discord to send me a notification-- Martyn: Look-- Iskall: I--this is so cursed. Martyn: Look, we don't need to go into the semantics of it, okay? Barry and the Belbs, they've got a lot of programming knowledge, they know how to break things, um. Iskall: It's the one guy, its the one man, it's the--I knew it. Martyn: It's always Barry. Iskall: It's always Barry, yeah. Martyn: When you ask how, its always Barry. Um, so, this is a random call. My calendar has just opened up, uh, for-for the forseeable future, I got nothing till I have to go back to Paris, um, so I was wondering if I could join Vault Hunters? Iskall: Oh! Uh, I mean that's starting in eight days-- Martyn, hopefully: Yeah? Iskall: Uh, and your schedule cleared-cleared up (clears throat) Do you not know--this is, this is not how you join an SMP. You don't just call your friend and ask if you can join. You have to call your friend, give them a bribe, and then you can join. Martyn: Okay, wh-what bribe, what bribe do you want? I-What--what do you need? Iskall: I-I. Now I have to think about it. Martyn: Yeah, cause I was going to say, whatever you were gonna say, I don't have it. But what I do have is desperation, and uh, pluck, and puns. And that's all I can really bring to the table. Iskall: You know what, I-I-I d--okay, will you be-its a difficult server-- Martyn: I heard there was an okay, I heard there was an okay! C'mon! C'mon! I'm in! Iskall: I didn't say okay yet! Martyn: You heard-I heard 'okay!' Iskall: We gotta do the interview! Okay, we gotta do the interview. Martyn: Oh, okay. Iskall: Okay, here we go, okay, here it is. Are you an enjoyer? Martyn: Sometimes. Iskall: It--"sometimes," okay. I, uh, hold on, let me note that down. (clears throat) "Sometimes." Have you played before? Martyn: Played what? Uno? Yeah, I played Uno before, yeah. Iskall: Okay, 'Uno' is good, yeah, Uno is good. Martyn: Cool. Iskall: That-that's a pass, there, okay. Uhh, lets see here, uh its not that I'm coming up with questions, I just, I've got a terrible headache today-- Martyn: It's fine, its all good-- Iskall: --and slowly reading the script that I have for like, new members to the SMP-- Martyn: You know what I heard, I heard pity is the best medicine. Iskall: (small pause, snorts to himself) Martyn we'd love to have you, we'd love to have you. Martyn: Yeah!!! Vault Hunters SMP here! We! Come! Iskall: Heck yeah! Martyn: Let's do it!

[phantomwithbreakfast]

Join our Danny Phantom discord server! (18+)

⟢ Discord Link ♡

⟢ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 ⟢

PWB’s quote: “Better crazy and a freak, than being normal and boring, right? Right.”

Not exactly new to the Phandom, but more like an OG Phan. I’ve been hyper-fixated (a little obsessed, yeah, I love him) with 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 since day one. Took a loooong break for a while, but something just…

˗ˏˋ 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 ˎˊ˗

Danny’s a hero I lost touch with—but found again. Reconnecting with him feels like rediscovering a part of myself, a spark I didn’t realize I was missing.

Why do I write angst and hurt? To process my own pain, to give voice to the unspoken wounds I carry. No, I haven’t lived through the exact horrors I write about—but pieces of me are woven into every story. My emotions, my struggles, my scars—they seep into the pages, twisted and reshaped into something I can hold, something I can face. Writing is my way of making sense of the chaos within.

If you need a hug, click here.

١٥٧٤♡

⟢ 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐈 𝐔𝐬𝐞 ⟢

Instagram ⟡ Archive Of Our Own ⟡ Discord

⌗ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⌗

(working on it)

⟢ 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ⟢

⋆.˚ ⚡︎ 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙛 𝘼 𝙇𝙞𝙛𝙚 ⚡︎ ˚.⋆

Ao3 ⟡ Cover Art ⟡ Art 01 ⟡ Art 02 ⟡ Art 03 ⟡ Art 04 ⟡ Art 05 ⟡ Animation ⟡ Art 06 ⟡ Art 07 ⟡ Phantom Sheet 01 ⟡ Art 08

⟢ Genre: Whump / Angst / Hurt / No Comfort / Horror • TW/CW: Strong Language — Mental Health Struggles — Violence — Emotional Distress — Self-destructive Tendencies — Graphic Content • M Rate

Summary: The GiW took him. Then his parents finished the job. They said it was for his own good. That Phantom was the problem. That Danny could be saved—if only they cut deep enough. “You’re going to wish you never took him from me,” she said, steady and cruel, her red goggles catching his reflection. “You’ll wish you never existed in the first place.”

Disclaimer: This phic is rated M for a reason. If you are underage, please do NOT read it. The themes and content are intended for adults and may be inappropriate or difficult to understand for younger readers.

[In progress]

• • • • • • •

☻% x 𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝘼𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙏𝙤 𝙇𝙞𝙫𝙚, 𝙏𝙤𝙤 𝘼𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙏𝙤 𝘿𝙞𝙚 ×͜×

Ao3 ⟡ Art 01

⟢ Genre: Angst / Tragedy / Psychological / Horror • Overall TW: Strong Language — Mental Health Struggles — Suicidal Ideation — Violence — Parental Neglect — Emotional Abuse — Graphic Content • M rate • CW: Character Death

Summary: “It’s the end of me. I didn’t want to feel and kiss your lips, I wanted to feel and see you suffer instead.”

Disclaimer: This phic is rated M for a reason. If you are underage, please do NOT read it. The themes and content are intended for adults and may be inappropriate or difficult to understand for younger readers.

[In progress]

• • • • • • •

⁺‧₊˚ 𝘼𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙄𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 ˚₊‧⁺

Ao3 (uncensored) ⟡ Art 01

⟢ Genre: Angst / Hurt • TW: Emotional Distress • T Rate • First Person’s POV

Summary: Afraid of your own reflection, afraid of the inevitable.

[Completed]

• • • • • • •

._. 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝘿𝙞𝙙𝙣’𝙩 𝙍𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙙 ._.

Ao3 (explicit) ⟡ Cover Art

⟢ Genre: Angst / No Comfort / Horror • AU — OOC • TW: Emotional Distress — Violence — Graphic Content • M Rate • Uncomfortable for that pang feeling, so beware! (Or at least, I tried to)

Summary: Battling with family ties and his mom’s shadow looming over him, Danny is forced to confront the unbearable burden of his secrets and broken hope.

[In Progress]

• • • • • • •

⋆｡°✩ 𝙇𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨

FFN ⟡ Cover Art

⟢ Genre: Angst / Hurt / Comfort / Horror • AU — OOC • TW: Emotional Distress — Violence — Graphic Content • M Rate • CW: Character Death

Summary: He should know, but he doesn’t know. He’s confused and doesn’t understand. It hurts and it hurts more.

[Completed]

✎ ᝰ.ᐟ 𝙁𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙣’𝙨 𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝘿𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙮 ♡

FFN ⟡ Art

⟢ Genre: Hurt / Comfort / Romance • TW: Mental Health Struggles — Lemons — Strong Language • M Rate (+16!)

Summary: Fenton finally found the courage to start a diary, a place to pour out all his hidden feelings and secrets. (Don’t like it, don’t read it).

[Completed]

• • • • • • •

♡ 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 ㄨ✘✗ﾒ✗•.ᐟ

FFN ⟡ Cover Art ⟡ Art 01 ⟡ Art 02

⟢ Genre: Hurt / Comfort / Romance • TW: Mental Health Struggles — Strong Language — Violence — Bullying and Harassment • T+ Rate

Summary: Danny is used to keeping secrets. Haunted by relentless bullying and tangled in emotions he can’t explain, he’s torn between duty, friendship, and a desire he can’t escape—a growing bond he’s not sure he should have.

[In Progress]

⟢ 𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐏 𝐀𝐫𝐭 ⟢

2025

Danny Kinsona ⟡ Danny Redraw 01 ⟡ Danny Redraw (animated) 02 ⟡ Danny Hates Haters ⟡ Danny in Squid Game (animated) ⟡ GhostlyGlimmer’s Phantom ⟡ OG Danny’s ⟡ Happy Danny ⟡ Danny and Jazz ⟡ Delulu Danny ⟡ OC’s Imagination ⟡ Danny and the Blob Ghost ⟡ Dark Valentine ⟡ Valentine ⟡ Dead Eyes / One Brush Challenge ⟡ Dandelions ⟡ DP OC 01 ⟡ DP OC 02 ⟡ DP OC 03 ⟡ DP OC 04 ⟡ DP OC 05 ⟡ DP OC 06 ⟡ Everlasting Trio ⟡ Ballpoint Pen Danny ⟡ Danny College ⟡ Danny With Fangs ⟡ Dannypocalypse ⟡ rePhanimated 01 ⟡ rePhanimated 02 ⟡ Danny Doodles ⟡ Serious Phantom ⟡ I’ll Never Give Up On You ⟡ Vlad Masters Sketch ⟡ Starter Pack Trend With Danny ⟡ Dannymay ⟡ ValerieGrayWeek

2024

Halloween ⟡ The Meaning Behind My Pseudonym ⟡ Mandala Window ‘Ghost Portal’ 01 ⟡ Mandala Window ‘Ghost Portal’ 02 ⟡ Danny Trending ⟡ Why are you doing this to me? ⟡ ‘Cleaned Up Sketches’ ⟡ When December Decides To Cry ⟡ If You Need A Hug ⟡ Happy Holidays ⟡ If You Know, You Know

[skycowboys]

Heya!! Just got to sift through the artbook as it arrived a few days ago and i am absolutely IN LOVE with the art, blown away by the concepts and character art– all of it is fantastic and delicious food for the noggin, esp as an artist myself, and a horse + wild west enjoyer. ^v^)o In essence: 10/10, yall outdid yourselves! 

I also had some questions, if it's okay, (no pressure or anything)– but I was interested in maybe making a character for the world (if we can do that sort of thing); and I am absolutely enraptured and fascinated by the concept of “Boltslayers”, and I love, love, love the Lightning fish. (Big monster/creature design enthusiast so i adore them snbgdhjndgh)

1: are there any kind of specific pegasi that Boltslayer pilots would use/ride for that sort of thing? Or is it up to the pilots discretion/preference? (i.e: if longwings would be preferred for speed and maneuverability for example!)

2: I'm also super curious if Boltslayers hunt Lightning fish to keep their populations in check, and/or if it's like an actual career (as actual big-game hunting), or if it's more or less a ‘’hobby’’ for some, as a way to get some extra coin or whathaveyou. 🤔

Anyway yeah that sums my thoughts up haha XD apologies for the yapping. Might check out the discord server at some point! Can't wait to devour more of your amazing art in the future. Best wishes!! ~ NEO 💜

Hello!

I'm so glad you received your book <3 And I'm so glad you like it! I put a lot of time into it and it's fun to see it resonate with people :)

Heck yeahhh! Boltslayers are fun! One of the characters in the upcoming comic is a boltslayer. Here's a sneak peek of her -

Yes! Broadwings, certainly. Within that class, there are a few breeds that do exceptionally well like firefoot and deepwood broadwings (Sniper above and Semrah below are both deepwood broadwings).

These broadwings have extreme tenacity and focus. Just as important is the bond between pilot and pegasus. Both have to 100000% trust each other with zero doubts because when you're hunting lightning fish, doubt means death. Any pegasus that has those qualities can be used in a hunt.

2. Boltslayers most often hunt lightning fish as a job. The payday for felling a LF can be massive and can be residual as long as the LF is being harvested. Boltslayers work with trusted merchants who manage the harvesting after the LF is down, and collect the boltslayer's cut of the materials sold over time. So boltslayers don't have to hunt very often.

There are some who hunt for sport, but the majority of boltslayers see the sport hunters as posers and will avoid them. To a *real* boltslayer, pitting yourself against a LF will result in a death: you or the LF. Risking your life for sport is seen as stupid and disrespectful to the LF, who will throw everything it has at you. Why waste a whole LF for your own glory? Even if the LF is harvested, a sport kill is seen as cheap and distasteful. If you're a sport hunter, good luck trying to find a team that'll hunt with you.

That said, all boltslayers are crazy daredevils in some respect. Hunting LF is incredibly dangerous and difficult. It takes a certain kind of person to master it. Boltslayers like to spend time at Fen's Ascension and practice their skills in "mock hunts", where you're really just playing chicken with young LF and don't actually engage in a hunt to kill. This can be done alone, where as real hunts are done in teams.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I hope that answers your questions! We'll all be happy to see you in the Discord if you choose to join :)

~ Larn

For anyone new seeing this aaaaask:

Art book | Sky Cowboys Discord Community

[needtoloveoutloud]

Shadows Of Our Past, Present, and (possible) Future — Series

Join the Discord Server! :)

My Hero Academia — Female!OC Fan Fiction on AO3

Part One (Completed — 93k words):

The one where Shota Aizawa stumbles upon a back alley full of stray cats and ends up adopting a child

“Fine, then a cat? We both know how much you love those little furry…things.” At this, Shota paused the game and turned to the pushy blonde next to him. “I actually have considered that.” “And?” “And: also, no. It makes no sense.” Hizashi looked almost scandalized. “Makes no sense?” “I made a pro and contra list.” “Of course you did.”

When underground hero Shota Aizawa, twenty-two years old, is out on patrol one Friday evening, he doesn't expect that a single meow from a cat would lead him to find a homeless girl called Yoru. From then on, Yoru and Shota grow up together, make mistakes together, and try to overcome every obstacle life throws at them.

>> Read on AO3 <<

Part Two (Ongoing, regular updates — growing long fic — 555k words so far — READ PART 1 FIRST, PLEASE AND THANK YOU):

The one where Yoru Aizawa tries to navigate through life at U.A.

Two days after her fifteenth birthday, Yoru decides to drop the bomb on him. “I want to go to U.A.” “You want to go to U.A.” Her Dad puts the book he's been reading down on the glass balcony table.  “Yes, I want to go to U.A.” She slumps down on the outdoor couch next to him, grabbing the discarded book. “What are you reading?” ‘A Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi — The classic guide to strategy ’. She raises an eyebrow. “Reading that for fun, huh?” “Why do you want to go to U.A.? You never cared much about heroes. Besides Edgeshot, that is.” Yoru smirks up at him. “What, jealous?” “As if.” “You know, even if they sold Eraserhead posters, I wouldn’t hang them up. It would be super weird.” “Good to know where your loyalties lie.” He rolls his eyes. “Back to the topic at hand, why do you want to go to U.A.? Because Shinso wants to go?” “No.” Pause. “Okay, that may be part of it. But I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and I really want to go.” “That might be so, but you still neglected to tell me why you want to attend there.” Yoru plays with her hair, noting how it’s time for another hair cut when she finds some split ends. “I wanna be a hero.” Her Dad blinks. “A hero?” “Yes. Well, I want to help people and do some good with that shitty quirk of mine.”

When Yoru tells her Dad that she wants to attend U.A., she expects it to be a difficult path. She didn't expect all the awkwardness, blossoming friendships, confusing feelings, and near-death experiences, though.

>> Read on AO3 <<

Please heed the warnings/tags (TWs in the author's notes of chapters where they apply to).

Also: because someone asked this before - you can read it as a reader insert if you want. I don't mind at all. Feel free to imagine yourself as part of the story. Just know that Yoru (the OC) will have descriptions of her visual appearance.

This story is a mix of:

Slice of life

Hurt/Comfort

Angst/Fluff

Humor

Dadzawa

SLOW BURN Romance — Enemies to Lovers (Bakugo x Yoru)

SLOW BURN Romance — EraserMic (but it's a subtle slow burn)

Growing up, coming of age (hopefully lol)

Teenage awkwardness

Mixed media (pictures, music, chat screenshots (later on in Part 2), etc. — chat screenshots will always have the written text below, to make it accessible for visually impaired folks or people who use screen readers)

and more...

Author: NoBecksPleaseNo on AO3

Please don't copy or plagiarize the work, the character, the premise, etc. Also, no cross-posting anywhere, please and thank you.

Disclaimer: Yoru's image is AI generated and then edited/adjusted by the author. The other character images in the header are from Pinterest (besides the one of Present Mic/Midnight, that one's from the light novels) — unfortunately without a source. If you're the artist, and you're not okay with me using them, please message me and I will remove them. If you're the artist and are okay with me using them, please tell me, so I can credit you.

Besides the OC characters, I don't own any already existing characters from the My Hero Academia Universe — that honor belongs to Kohei Horikoshi.

[plaidos]

Hi Roxanne! I have just the dumbest question, I'm embarrassed by how dumb it is. It's very clear why trans women don't appreciate being called man/dude/bro even if it's ~just habit~. But is it upsetting if someone says "oh man" or "oh boy", like they would "oh gosh" or "oh wow"? I would assume that's fine, but on the other hand, I know transphobes like their plausible deniability I'm Not Touching You harassment tactics. I guess I'm worried they like to say "oh man" pointedly at trans women?

every time i get this question i feel like the people asking it are fundamentally missing the point. nobody is saying you can literally never say “aw man!” etc nor that every trans woman will have the same preferences for “dude” “man” etc like i say shit shit!!! i say it to other trans girls!!!! the actual problem is threefold:

1. the assumption that trans women will automatically be ok with being called masculine coded terminology, even more ambiguous stuff, is presumptuous at best

2. the insistence that these terms are neutral is downright sexist & reinforces the age old sexist belief that men are the default

3. and this is kind of the most important one — the tendency for people to do this with trans women they do not know, or worse yet, that they are disagreeing with on the internet.

if a friend of friend says “oh dude those are so cool!!” when i show them my boots, i’ll give them the benefit of the doubt because whilst informed from a wider culture of maleness as the default, it’s a turn of phrase, they’re somebody a friend trusts, and they’re being friendly.

if somebody i don’t know in a discord server is like “hey guys can we stay on topic?” i’m gonna be like, “hey, please don’t call me that, i’m not a guy and don’t like being called one”

if somebody is actively arguing with me (in real life or in tumblr) and saying shit like “it’s not that deep dude” about transmisogyny, then they’re blatantly being transphobic and i’m gonna call them on it.

context matters. trans women can’t give you a magic swiss army knife rule of thumb for how to interact with us every single time — the BEST way to make your transfem friends feel comfortable is by being observant & learning the nuances of when something is and isn’t okay. if that sounds vague and difficult… yeah, that’s what it’s like to actually care about a minority lol but

[aspenscore]

Artist: Aspenscore

Title: Don't Be That Guy

Don't Be That Guy © 2025 by Aspenscore is licensed under CC BY 4.0. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Size: 512 x 384

Skizz gets in trouble with the law for leaving floating trees… he really shouldn't have Been That Guy

Process TL;DR:

Skizz has played two different law-adjacent roles this season and I thought it'd be funny for them to come after early season Skizz for making all those early game mistakes

The hardest part of this process was the composition, as it was hard to balance storytelling with visual appeal

I switched from Sketchbook to Medibang Paint for this one and the timelapse recording went so much more smoothly (video imminent!)

One of my favourite things about Skizz's HC10 season is how much he commits to his various character roles on the server. They are all unique and entertaining in their own ways, and I thought it'd be funny to put those strong personalities all together in one scene. Since his two main roles have some sort of involvement with the law, it only made sense for them to come after his early season self (Don't Be That Guy Skizz) for breaking some basic server etiquette. My initial plan was to have POE Skizz writing up Don't Be That Guy (DBTG) for leaving floating trees and Lawyer Skizz coming in to defend DBTG, but it was hard to make it clear who Lawyer Skizz is actually coming after, so he could also have teamed up with POE Skizz to bring down the (literal) hammer on DBTG. It's entirely up to your interpretation. I just like his general threatening aura.

The main thing that made Lawyer Skizz's intentions difficult to portray was the fact that I needed to balance storytelling with visual appeal. I needed to make it clear what was going on and why, while making sure all the characters' faces were visible, and ensuring the overall positioning of everything looked good and visually flowed well. I probably sketched at least ten different options for this piece at work (to save time), narrowed them down to about five strong ideas, and then got many people's input on the composition and posing (shoutout to my partner, various friends with degrees in media design, and the spoonies discord server). I finally landed on this one, as it was one of my favourites composition-wise. It was the most interesting to look at, everyone's face is visible, and it communicates enough of the main story elements to at least give a general sense of what's going on. The only issue I had with this one was figuring out how to make the floating tree obvious without upsetting the visual balance of the rest of the piece. I'm not sure I really fixed it, but there wasn't much I could do without starting all over, and I figured the story is still clear enough even if it's not immediately apparent what DBTG's crime was.

Tech-wise, I have way less to say about this one than the Joel piece I did a few weeks ago, and that's a good thing. The main issue I had with the other piece was recording the timelapse, because my main drawing program (Skechbook Pro) doesn't have a timelapse feature. After all the problems I had last time, I decided I was willing to switch to an entirely new drawing program if it meant I was able to avoid all that mess, and luckily for me, the drawing program I used to use before Sketchbook (Medibang Paint) has a timelapse feature! This was a huge relief, because I already know how to use it and I know my tablet can handle it. Everything went smoothly and I am so relieved to have a solution (I even fixed that problem my monitor started having back when I was troubleshooting the Joel piece recording setup!). You might notice, however, that this piece is still rather low-res. Unlike last time, that was not an unfortunate accident; I just didn't scale up the dimensions. Don't know why. Sorry about that lol

Since the tech side of things went so well this time, I'll have a timelapse video coming out shortly and I'm very excited to share it with you all! I am also considering doing timelapse videos of some of my other art (most likely my video thumbnails) now that I've got a reliable recording setup for that. (Is that something y'all'd be interested in? Please let me know!)

Overall, I wanted to say a big thank you to Skizz for making such wonderfully entertaining videos. I look forward to the rest of the season, and I can't wait to see people going through the finished pyramid!

I also want to thank all of you reading this for your time and support! I know this isn't usually the sort of thing I post, so it makes me happy that people seem to enjoy it just as much as my regular content. I hope you all have a wonderful day!

[anomalyaly]

I See the Light

CW: NSFW. EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, MINORS DNI. ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ READERS DISCRETION ADVISED

Written for the OHL discord server February NSFW event. Flynn Rider!Sebastian teaches an unnamed FMC!Rapunzel something new.

~3k words

[AO3/Wattpad]

Tags: Tangled!AU, Sebastian Sallow x nameless FMC, first time (for her), fingering (F receiving), oral sex (F receiving and a hint of M receiving), face sitting, masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, they're in a forest so I guess public sex but nobody is around, fast and hard because I am burdened by the word count limitations

It started out as a harmless prank.

One that involved stealing a crown from the royal palace. It wasn't as if someone with that much money would miss one crown made of enough precious metals, he could bribe anyone and their mother for whatever he wanted with it.

After all, he was the Sebastian Sallow — the greatest known thief in the land.

Everything was going so smoothly, running from the law, until he stumbled upon an odd clearing in the forest, a tall tower in the distance. His unfortunate, or perhaps, very fortunate decision to climb up it is what had gotten him into this situation in the first place, traipsing the forest with an odd girl — a very beautiful girl — but odd nonetheless, who had been mysteriously trapped within the isolated tower.

What made the girl odd was that she kept a suspicious secret about her reasons for being locked away — and the fact that she had hair that was a ridiculous length for that of a normal human being. Hair that had been long enough to stretch from the window to the base of the tower that she resided in.

She had even brandished a frying pan as a weapon. The naivety of this girl. However, she had taken his stolen crown and hidden it away, offering only to return it to him if he agreed to her terms.

Fine. If that's what it took to get it back, Sebastian reluctantly agreed. It shouldn't be too difficult to bring one innocent girl to the kingdom to see some lanterns and return her home in one day, right?

Wrong.

After the girl had several panic attacks upon exiting her tower, they were chased by palace guards and nearly drowned in their attempt to escape. He supposed it was mostly his fault, being a wanted man, but their adventure had nearly cost both of them their lives.

For him, he supposed it was only a matter of time until fate caught up with his misdeeds. But the poor girl was innocent. And he had nearly gotten her killed.

Both of them collapsed on the ground in the forest, deciding to make camp for the night. Exactly twenty-four hours until the lantern festival.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I never meant to — I didn't mean for it to go this far."

He tucked his injured hand behind his back, but she noticed it right away. "You're hurt."

"I'll be fine."

"No," she murmured, pulling it closer to her and wrapping her hair around it, "let me help."

He scoffed, "I highly doubt that — "

He was cut off as she started to sing a cryptic lullaby. He was about to stop her until he noticed that her hair was glowing. And as he pulled his hand away from her hair, her song finished, and the wound was completely healed.

"How did you — "

"My hair," she quickly said, "it...can heal people when I sing. That's why I was...why I had to stay in that tower. To protect it. To protect me."

"You never left? At all?"

The girl shook her head, smiling sheepishly. He studied her carefully, noting the blush on her cheeks glowing in the firelight. He scooted closer to her. "That...must have been lonely."

"Sometimes," she agreed, "but....I read, a lot. I like to think of the characters in my stories as my friends." She grinned. "The romances were my favorite."

"Really?" He was intrigued. "What did you like most about them?"

Her face reddened further. "I...well, when they kissed. I always wondered what it feels like."

"Yeah?" He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have quite the experience in that area, you know. I could always show you."

He meant it as a joke, somewhat, but she immediately perked up. "You'd do that?"

"What?" Sebastian gaped. "I-I mean...yes, I suppose. If...if that's what you— " He wasn't certain where he was going with this idea. Kissing strangers in pubs was one matter, but her? She was innocent, naive, and inexperienced.

"Yes," she nodded emphatically. "Please. I...I want to know."

He cleared his throat. "Alright then. Just...just follow my lead."

He leaned closer to her and gently cupped her cheek in his hand. "I'm...I'm going to kiss you now."

Her eyes fluttered closed. "I'm ready."

He swallowed, then gently pressed his lips to hers. She didn't move, her nervousness and lack of experience showing, and he guided her as he pulled her closer to him, feeling her soft lips against his. He threaded his fingers through her hair and dared to run his tongue along her lower lip, and she elicited a soft moan.

Oh shit.

He hadn't expected to be turned on this easily. How long had it been since he had last physically been with someone?

She responded a bit too enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around him and pressing herself flush against him. He grabbed her arms and pushed her back slightly.

"W-wait," he said, stopping her mid-kiss. "I...I thought it was just a kiss. Not—" he shook his head.

She tilted her head innocently. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he breathed, attempting to clear his thoughts that were becoming increasingly wild. "You — you can't just respond like that and...and not expect something to happen." He smiled lightly. "I'm only a man, after all. I have...urges."

She furrowed her brows. "Urges?" Then, she brightened in understanding. "Oh! Like...sexual urges."

Sebastian actually blushed. Why did it suddenly seem so dirty when she said it? "Well...yes."

"Teach me."

"What?!"

She held him firmly. "Teach me," she insisted. "I'm only going to be outside of my tower for one more day. I...I want to learn."

"I — " How could he say no? "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She sighed. "You saved my life, and you're taking me to see the lanterns. I want it to be you."

Sebastian took a deep breath. "Alright." If that was what she wanted. She had asked for it, after all. "I'm...I'll go slow, okay? Just...if you feel uncomfortable...."

"Sebastian." She let out a huff.

"Okay! Okay." He gritted his teeth before his lips collided with hers once more, still maintaining the gentleness of their first kiss, but with more fervor, his intent clear.

Her resounding moan vibrated along his lips and sent shivers down his spine. He wasn't inexperienced, but he had certainly never taken a girl's innocence before. It was much easier to go after a quick fuck, a one-night stand to scratch an itch before moving on to his next endeavor — which mostly centered around thievery. Sex was simply an outlet.

This, however, was different.

He ran his hands along her arms and trailed his fingers up her bodice, deftly undoing the lacing on her corset and letting the rest of her dress fall to the ground. His lips left hers, and he planted soft kisses along her neck before pulling back to look at her. "Is this al— "

"Stop asking me if it's alright," she grumbled. "I will tell you if something is wrong."

Right. He had never been so nervous to fuck someone before. It really had been too long.

His hungry gaze roamed over her untouched, bare body. Years in the tower left her skin soft and silky, a stark contrast to his rough and calloused hands. He lightly traced them over her bare breast and smiled as she shivered at his touch.

"Feel good?" He asked. She nodded. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I can do things that will feel even better, sweetheart. Just trust me."

He pulled back to undo the buttons on his shirt and shrugged it off, throwing it to the side and wrapping his arms around her once more. He guided her to the soft grass and laid her beneath him as he continued to trail kisses along her delicate skin.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured, and he took one of her peaked nipples in between his lips.

The way she arched her body into his made it even clearer that she had never been touched, every inch of her overly sensitive to his gentle caresses. His fingers danced along her thighs, tracing the freckles along the inside of one before expertly finding her center.

Her form trembled in ecstasy beneath him as he lightly circled her clit, his finger already coated in her slick, preparing her for everything that was to follow. Sebastian was eager to be inside her, his own arousal beginning to peek through his trousers, but he would make sure she was taken care of first.

"That feels — really — really good," she panted, and her fingers dug into his back. He carefully slipped a digit inside of her and gently curled it against the perfect spot, grinning as her hips bucked against his hand.

"Oh!" He could feel her tightening around his finger, knowing she was getting closer to her peak. He wondered if she had ever orgasmed before, if she had ever managed to complete herself on her own, locked in the tower for so many years, or if he would be the first to bring her over the edge.

The thought of it even being a possibility sent a surge of pride through him.

"It's alright, sweetheart," he encouraged, his face pressed into her neck so he could whisper praises into her ear. "Relax and let go. Let me make you feel good." He slipped a second finger inside for good measure.

It sent her over the edge, and when he curled his fingers again, she arched her back and let out a wanton cry. He planted kisses along her neck as she trembled beneath him, working her through her orgasm and murmuring encouragements against her.

"Beautiful," he whispered as he watched her face relax, her eyes heavy-lidded and her body spent. He slid further down her body until his face settled between her legs. He felt her grasp his arm and glanced up at her.

"Wait!" She clutched his arm. "W-what are you doing?"

Sebastian grinned. "Did you think we were done?" He planted a light kiss on her inner thigh. "Oh, no, love. We're just getting started."

He continued to leave a path of kisses from her thigh until he hovered over her core once more. "Just relax, and let me make you feel good."

She chewed on her lower lip nervously, but when she nodded and leaned back again, he leaned forward and pressed his tongue to her center, sliding gracefully along her folds until he felt her melt into his touch. His strong hands gripped her thighs firmly, and he encouraged her to spread herself wider for him.

"Mfph!" She whimpered, worrying her lower lip still between her teeth as she tried to hold back. Sebastian pulled his tongue away, and she groaned at the space he left.

"Nobody is here, darling," he murmured, his warm breath grazing over her. "I want to hear everything. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

"B-but —"

Sebastian tightened his grip on her thigh. "If you go quiet, I'll stop." It wasn't a true threat, as he would never stop if he knew she would let him have her, his own desire growing by the minute.

But she agreed, and when he circled her with his tongue again, she gasped. Her hands flew to his head and tangled themselves in his curls, and he couldn't help himself as he let out a guttural moan, burying himself in her as he fucked her with his mouth. She arched her hips into him, and he silently prayed to whatever powers were out there that, if he were to die, it would be from suffocating himself against her, drowning in her sweetness.

Merlin, how badly he wanted her to ride his face.

He gently pried her hands off of his head and slid his body away from her, almost feeling a bit guilty at her cries of protest. But he wasn't going to let her off that easily. He tugged his trousers off and tossed them haphazardly to the side, somewhere between the thickening forest and wherever his shirt hand ended up, and laid down on the ground.

She furrowed her brows in confusion. "What — "

"Come here," he said, guiding her hips over top of him. "I want you to angle yourself here and...and do what I was doing to you."

The young woman blinked at him. "You mean...sit...here?"

Sebastian bit back a groan at her innocence. "Yes. And you...move along my tongue in whatever way makes you feel good."

She nodded and settled herself on his face. "Like this?"

He wasted no time before getting to work, and he moaned with pride when she rested her weight atop him and ground herself into his mouth. She was so wet, he could feel his face already coated with her juices. Yes, this is most certainly how I wish to die.

She bucked her hips in a ragged movement, and he knew she was already nearing another orgasm. He reached between himself and wrapped his hand around his hardened length, stroking himself desperately to the rhythm she set. His tongue lapped against her as if he was a man starved and she was his final meal.

"Sebastian-! I-I can't — I have to —!"

He pressed his face into her and groaned against her clit, the vibrations dragging her to her climax. She yanked on his curls and rode out the rest of her orgasm, her body shaking with sensitivity. It took everything he had not to lose himself — he was saving that for her.

And oh, he would enjoy every second of being inside her.

She lifted herself off of his face and tried to climb off, but he held her hips in place. "I want you to be able to take the lead."

"But," she blushed, "I don't know what I'm doing."

"That's precisely it." His thumbs traced small circles along her hips. "I'm going to guide you, but I want you to be able to set your own pace. Whatever makes you comfortable. That way — " He quirked a smile at her, "I know for certain you're enjoying it."

And he could enjoy watching her.

He helped position her as she knelt, hovering over his throbbing erection. Sebastian wasn't the patient type, but he knew the reward that awaited him would be worth it. His breath hitched as she traced a line up his length with her delicate fingers.

"Can I...?" she asked shyly, as if voicing the question was more vulgar than what he had just done to her.

He swallowed back a whimper. "P-please."

She stroked his cock once, twice, testing his reaction, and Sebastian was more than willing to give it to her. Her feather-light touches had him wanting more when suddenly, she leaned down and dragged her tongue along it in an experimental lick.

Fuck.

He hadn't realized how sensitive he had gotten from not being touched for so long.

"N-not...not now," he managed, his voice strained.

She glanced up at him, and the sight of her pink lips hovering over the seeping head of his cock tempted him, pleaded with him to thrust into her mouth and coat her tongue. But he wanted something else more.

"I need to be inside you."

She blushed and straddled his hips, and he could feel the heat radiating from her as her wet cunt settled on top of his cock. She nibbled on her lower lip, breathing steadily as she adjusted to the feel of him.

"Take your time, love," he said roughly.

He gasped raggedly as she slowly slipped him inside of her, forcing him to control his urges and allow her time to adjust. She was tight, perfectly fitted around him and he struggled to resist burying himself in her and fucking her until they were both seeing stars.

And then, she sank all the way down, a soft sigh of contentment leaving her lips at the feel of him.

It was almost too much, the way her cunt enveloped him, and as she began to move achingly unhurried, he reactively snapped his hips into hers and released a needy groan.

"That...feels good to you?" She practically breathed the words out.

Sebastian could only manage a nod as his thumbs dug into her thighs. He was too sensitive, too desperate, too touch-starved to control himself.

Thank Merlin she could sense his need.

"Take me," she panted as she rode him, angled just so that her tits bounced in front of his face, carved as perfectly as a Greek statue and yet so supple he couldn't resist pressing his face into them. She let out another soft whimper. "Take me how you want me."

It was his undoing.

He grasped her hips roughly and thrust into her, fast, hard, taking and taking everything he wanted at her command. He was hers, whether she knew it or not, and if she had asked him to, he would have burned the world for her if it meant making this moment last forever.

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him and tucking her face into his neck, biting and sucking gently at his pulse point as she mimicked what he had taught her, their bodies moving in tandem as he drove himself into her. And when she finally cried out, her body tightening around him as she came, he clumsily followed right after, his rhythm ragged, spilling himself inside and muffling a groan against her long hair that he was certain was still glowing in the middle of the forest.

It was faster than he had planned, yet more powerful than anything he could have imagined. But when he looked at her, their sweaty bodies still clinging to each other on the forest floor, her eyes still closed as she panted against him, it was as if the fog had lifted and everything was clear.

And at last, I see the light.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my friends i love them?

okay, hear me out before writing this off as fake or “trying to make the other party look bad”. i promise this is a genuine problem i need to have figured out.

i (20) am autistic so i have a hard time telling when i do something wrong, and it’s difficult for me to make friends. however, i was part of an online friend group for ~3-4 years. i was the oldest and the others (17-19) all knew each other irl, so it felt a little awkward (to me) for me to be there, but i considered them my closest friends and my only safe space to be myself.

in the time we were friends, i made some mistakes, some of which i’d rather not get into for personal reasons. but recently the group decided they didn’t want me there anymore, so i was kicked from the discord server and they all blocked me. i was sent a long message about why, and that’s where my confusion starts.

in the message, they brought up some things that didn’t make sense to me as a “bad” thing.

1. they said i’d talked to them about drugs and alcohol “while [they] were still minors”, which is true, but misleading when it’s just said like that. what i actually did was infodump about safe use, because it happened to be one of my fixations at the time, and sometimes mention being high in my channel, but nothing more than that. as for them being minors, some were 17 and some were 18, so it’s really not that different to having DARE come and talk to you about drugs, at least in my eyes. i never encouraged them to use, i never told them to use, and i never gave them resources to use. i only talked about safe use.

2. this is where my title comes in. they told me i was guilttripping and manipulating them by talking about them being my “longest friends” and telling them i loved them. point blank, nothing more to it, that’s what they said. along with that was an added “we know that’s not how you meant it but the effect was there”. this is what i don’t understand and why i need to know if i’m actually a bad person for this or not. yes, i’d talk about them being my longest friends, because i was grateful they had stuck around so long. i’d tell them i loved them just off the bat, whenever i wanted to tell them. it was never about guilttripping or manipulating them, it was always about wanting to show that i appreciated them.

3. this one is a hard one i think. they said that i’d “never disproven [my] ex’s accusations”. i don’t really want to get into what happened which my ex since i know i made mistakes in that relationship, but what’s important to note here is that i had sent my ex’s accusations to one member of the group who’d then sent me a text telling me that they believed i was different now.

this is the text copy-pasted:

“it's definitely a rough situation. but since i know *y'all*, i definitely believe your side. not to mention, you acknowledged your mistakes and the things you did. and i think for all the statements they made about "they knew we had [this traumal", they should've had proof of y'all discussing that. like i can say my girlfriend knows i have body image issues, but i could totally be pulling that out of my ass, you can't just take my word for it. they can't just say things without proof, especially if the things they say could *ruin* y'all's life.”

but in the message as to why i was no longer in the group, they said that actually they didn’t believe me at all, which completely contradicts that text.

and yeah, that’s my explanation of the situation. i genuinely don’t know if i’m the asshole or not, and i’ve been beating myself up about it. this whole situation has made my trust in friends go down, especially since i trusted that group with everything about me. any advice is welcome too.

thank you for listening. have a great day. :)

What are these acronyms?

[olderthannetfic]

Being a trans man and not being an anti is also isolating, which is part of why I think trans guys gravitate towards either being an anti or reposting anti posts. If you're not an anti, you get booted from discord servers, blocked on social media at best or sent misgendering rape threats, death threats and suicide bait by other trans men at worst, and now that I'm in college I've found IRL that not being an anti makes a lot of people in queer spaces available to the average college student incredibly uncomfortable. So you have to either be entirely alone - which is very difficult when you're young, queer, and just coming into your own identity - or you have to be around it a lot without saying a word. Agreeing with it at first wouldn't even be necessary. You just have to not say anything against it, and then you'll be able to be around other people.

It doesn't help that most trans men who get sucked into anti circles are teens at the time. There's 501 proposed anti-LGBT laws right now, not counting everything that has passed, the majority of it anti-trans. If you're a teenage boy seeing all this transphobia on the rise, you're going to feel powerless. Bullying people like antis do makes you feel power over at least a few people. Being told you can consume your way into being a good person via media intake makes you feel like you have power and control over at least that.

I was sucked in incrementally because I wasn't exposed to the more violent antis who fantasized about murder and hurting people for writing fiction, I met my only friend - who was an anti - after my dad had beaten me for coming out as trans, and I was sixteen. I got out when I was eighteen because once I went to live with my mom, a psychologist, she gently corrected me when I would say things that aren't based in fact. She pointed out how upset these people were making me. She taught me how to fact-check claims and look into the veracity of claims.

And when I tried to convey to my friends that no, what they were saying wasn't supported, they turned on me. Including the only person who had been there for me when I was hatecrimed, who had reached out to me specifically because she met me what day. I lost every friend I had in roughly 30 hours.

If I hadn't had a really great mom, a very intelligent rabbi who's well-versed in psychology and is a former lawyer who saw the "fiction made me do it" excuse used to defend heinous crimes and doesn't buy it, and an older half-sister who lived through people calling her a psycho lesbian because she's a lesbian who played D&D, listened to metal and dressed Goth in small-town Montana in the 80's/90's, I would have probably killed myself. Having those three people who accepted me and did not accept this extremist rhetoric kept me sane and repaired my self-esteem enough to keep me going.

But a lot of people don't have three adults who are intelligent, supportive, and know better than to fall for this faux-psychology. A lot of people don't even have one. Often, they have unsupportive people who also believe firmly in the faux-psychology of "if you watch a thing you'll do that thing IRL". So there's not only no one hauling them out of this, it's getting reinforced.

Being a non-anti who is a trans man gets me a lot of shit from a lot of people online and offline. (As other anons have mentioned during the ace discourse, online talking points come up on college campuses and in real life, because the internet is not an alternate dimension, it is something being used by the people around you who exist in the same physical space as you.)

A reality that I don't think people want to discuss is that trans men, just like all other people of all other genders, suffer a lot of psychological distress if they're put in a position where they have no support. I sure as fuck wasn't happy being in a position where I went from having tons of online friends, discord servers I could hang out in and fandoms I associated with good vibes to none of that, plus harassment, plus massive misgendering.

It's a lot less awful of an existence to be a trans man and an anti when you're young and need community and support than it is to not be an anti and be isolated. And humans gravitate towards the least awful option 99% of the time.

--

Yuuup.

Having some kind of real support network, usually offline but at the very least not randos you met a day ago on discord, is vital and is the difference between not only whether you rot in a pit of antidom forever but in stemming the massive flood of trans teen suicides. The overall queer rates aren't great, but the specifically trans rates... they're bad. They're so, so bad.

[existentialterror]

Do NOT send pictures of your ID card to discord bots!!!!

Or, like, any online rando.

I ran into a server that wanted to make sure that members are over 18 years old. They wanted to avoid the other thing I've heard of, which is asking you to verify your age by sending pictures of your ID card to a moderator. Good! Don't do that!

However, ALSO don't do this other thing, which is using a discord bot that would "automatically verify" you from a selfie and a photo of your ID card showing your birthday. The one they used is ageifybot.com. There's a little more information on its top.gg page. Don't like that! Not using that!

Why not? It's automatic! Well, let me count the ways this service skeeves me out:

How does the verification process work? There is no information on this. Well, okay, if you had more info on what kind of algorithms etc were being used here, that might make it easier for people to cheat it. Fair enough. But we need something to count on.

Who's making it? Like, if I can't understand the mechanics, at least I'd like to know who creates it - ideally they'd be a security professional, or at least a security hobbyist, or an AI expert, or at least someone with some kind of reputation they could lose if this turns out to not be very good, or god forbid, a data-stealing operation. However, the website contains nothing about the creators.

The privacy policy says they store information sent to them, such as your selfie and photo of an ID card, for up to 90 days, or a year if they suspect you're misleading them. It sure seems like even if they're truly abiding by their privacy policy, there's nothing to stop human people from looking at your photos.

The terms of service say they can use, store, process, etc, any information you send them. And that they can't be held accountable for mistakes, misuse, etc. And that they can change the bot and the ToS at any times without telling you. The terms of service also cut off midway through a sentence, so like, that's reassuring:

In conclusion, DO NOT SEND PICTURES OF YOUR ID CARD TO RANDOM DISCORD BOTS.

Yes, keeping minors out of (say) NSFW spaces is a difficult problem, but this "solution" sucks shit and is bad.

Your ID card is private, personal information that can be used by malicious actors to harm you. Do not trust random discord bots.

[instant-bull]

Hashirama thoughts I dumped on a Discord server recently. I'm not editing too much in them, sorry if any of this is chaotic. Hope you enjoy some exhausted rambling

Tonight I'm thinking about God Hashirama from the angle of "how fucked up his situation is".

Like, if he's some sort of a god, then imo the most compelling option would a Jesus sort of situation, rather than physical descendance from a god. He's born of humans but for some reason he's chosen, he possesses the mokuton, and I love how this can be linked to him being some sort of god of nature: not only trees, maybe, but plants, maybe even expanding into fungi (but that's discussion for another day because if I speak one more word on antropocene we will be here all night).

So, Hashirama, as a god of nature, rather a manifestation of nature than a power that controls it: he's not The God, but he is a god, for sure. Are there any gods? Maybe, but I think they are a completely different thing than Hashirama, and he doesn't concern himself with them.

So, the fucked up situation angle: he's a mortal god, born and trapped in a mortal body, surrounded by humans who see him as a human: a really skilled and powerful one, but a human nonetheless. Does he even realize he's a god? I think he does, to an extent, I think trees tell him a lot of different things and he listens to them dilligently. It'd an ancient forest, and compared to them he's young and small, but he's the link that connects humans and plants, and the one who's meant to keep them at a balance.

So, he realizes he's a god, but he never gets a god complex or anything like that: I think he's selfless enough, self aware enough to understand he can't be going around calling himself a god, lest he attracts unwanted kind of attention. He wants to plant seeds of peace (pun intended) so that when he's inevitably gone, his dream can go on without him. If he were to divide and conquer and set himself an emperor or something, it would all come crumbling down once he's gone. Nobody would be able to fill in his shoes. Nobody else is a god after all.

So, instead he chooses the difficult and slow-burning way of compassion and kindness, he puts on a brave and jovial face towards the world that hates him and builds himself a little nest in between of the whole chaos he cannot control. He demeans himself and works like a human, so that humans can pick up the pieces once he's gone. In the end, he's a god with no worshippers, with no faith on his side, and that's what makes him, in my opinion, very clingy and sensitive to rejection. He needs all the praise, all the support, all the worship he can get, it is only in his nature to crave that.

Also, his status, even if it's only in his head, is what gives him all that outgoingness and happy-go-lucky attitude. He doesn't see humans as equal to him, since they are so much weaker and unable to see and comprehend things he does: at best he observes them like how we observe puppies. He loves humans, he cares for them so much, but he struggles to truly connect with them. Perhaps he perceives and processes emotions differently, he's not fully human, he's kind of removed: that's why he doesn't treat things very seriously, unless they are concerning Very Big Ideas: his dream, his people... death, that one for sure. That's why he weeps real tears when his younger brothers die, but doesn't show a slightest bit of concern that he introduced his little granddaughter to gambling and took part in her being an addict: it's really not that deep, in his mind. It's a quirk, if anything, it's silly!

Tbh the say Hashirama views humans and his closest people is such a rabbit hole on its own... But last though rn is that I think he shows some psychopathic tendencies (this is hard to research bc most papers on psychopathy treat it like it's an Evil Person Disease: I mean mostly his thrill-seeking, low empathy (but great compassion), disregard for norms and rules and aforementioned detachment (in his case specific to his status)). Sorry if any of this is kind of disjointed

[wingzie]

The Definition of Jikook: Through Others Eyes

“Becca, how would you define Jikook?” In the last few months I have been asked this several times. And not by Jikookers. Since my bad experiences with offline events, I decided (in typical “me” fashion) to just throw myself out there and keep moving forward. This included joining more Twitter GC’s or Discord Servers and going to more offline events. In one of the most recent events, I lived locally and wanted to help. Therefore, I offered to escort some anxious Army from the train station to the venue.

Anyway, I was still cautious about going and, though there were a few odd moments, the event went really well overall. Something else kindled during this event that I did not expect: The desire to talk more about jikook. Before, even mentioning Jikook as a unit and not as Jimin and Jungkook was almost seen as a taboo. Especially compared to the other units that we are familiar with. Due to me no longer giving a damn and using my main twitter account, people relating to the event knew who I was and they had questions. Very interesting questions. About Jikook. About their enlistment. About the travel show. This was a pleasant surprise and it shocked me that some of these people already knew quite a lot without me telling them anything. Including some information that I thought was only in the Jikook circles. I asked one person why they didn’t talk about Jikook as much on Twitter and they said because they were scared with all the shipper fights. Which is quite valid really. If all you see whenever Jikook is mentioned is constant fighting, then you would distance yourself. It made me realise something though: 

Even if someone isn’t talking about Jikook. They are still watching and are very much aware of what is going on.

Sometimes we amplify the wrong things and we give the loudest voices to the negative comments. When I do the Live Reactions series, I will sometimes have hundreds of positive screenshots to go through and then(somehow) pick twenty-five of them for the thread. It was really interesting to see so many people talking about Jungkook going Live whenever Jimin went overseas or about the travel show. It also reminded some of moments that were sadly forgotten about.

This touches on something else too. Our traditions as a fandom have somewhat changed. With the removal of the social media awards, we no longer boost BTS’ history like we used to. Elon has also changed how we find content, with the removal of “moments” and advanced searching now being really difficult to find things. There is still hope though. With Jin’s return, it was lovely to see so many asking about Jin as a person or how Festa would work. Sharing old memories and watching Bang Bang Con together added so much value to our experiences together as a fandom.It’s something we should treasure. 

BTS have shared so much with us and it’s why I’ll forever be thankful for archive accounts. With every post or comment shared with others, we encourage them to learn more about the members or to watch content they may not have seen before. I experienced this myself when I mentioned Bon Voyage to someone who didn’t know what it was. They had only watched “In the Soop” and were excited by the concept of the members going abroad together. I hope they enjoy it!

Going back to Jikook, I have seen an increase of positive engagement surrounding them. This includes in both online and offline spaces. It makes me excited for when the travel show comes out and the conversations it will create, with so many already floating around. When I am asked how I define them myself, I try to turn it around. It doesn’t matter what I think about Jikook or how I define them. That should be obvious by my account. What matters is how others do and the respect that it holds.

[writing-intheundercroft]

when you know, you know

Read on AO3

Word Count: 7,169

Rating: T (just some smooches)

Summary: You and Garreth Weasley aren't on speaking terms, not since you were caught stealing billywig stings for him and subsequently banned from Honeydukes.

But the dawn of your sixth year brings a potion brewing contest, and you might finally have a chance to put him in his place.

A/N: Happy first birthday, Hogwarts Legacy! The HL discord server I'm in came up with the theme of One Year Later, and this is my submission. Thankful for all the lovely people I've met through this fandom, who encourage me to write every day <3

“Welcome to your sixth year of potions,” Professor Sharp says gruffly, leaning against his desk. “I hope you’re all prepared to start exploring the theories of potion composition, and have read the first five chapters of your textbook over the summer holidays as instructed.”

Sebastian groans next to you, flipping open his book.  You snort, craning your neck around the room to assess your classmates. 

Everett, Sacharissa, Andrew, Nastai, Poppy, and Grace–all of them still have the post-summer slump, faces glum as they wished to be free of the potions dungeon. At the station next to you, Leander looks ready to fall asleep.  He was practically using his fingers to keep his eyeballs open during the double potions period.

Next to Leander, you can’t help noticing Garreth Weasley.  It's unusual to see him so engaged; Garreth is normally the class clown, always trying to figure out a way to disrupt the lesson.  Instead, he’s sitting stick straight, scribbling every word Sharp had to say.  His notes were neatly organized, ingredients for the day’s brew already portioned out and chopped.

“What’s gotten into Weasley?” you whisper to Sebastian.

Sebastian scoffs. “Oh, he’s probably trying to get on Sharp’s good side, with the potion making contest coming up.”

“What contest?” You ask, albeit a bit too loud.

“I was just getting to that point,” Sharp says your name; the entire class had turned their attention to the two of you. Even Garreth was staring, despite the iciness between the two of you.  It’s been months since you last spoke, exchanging choice words in a shouting match after he’d gotten you banned from Honeydukes.  After all, he was the one who’d assured you Mr. Flume wouldn’t be home, and that it wouldn’t be too difficult to steal the billywig stings.

Nevermind that, you think, turning your attention back to Sharp’s lecture.

“Every year, I challenge the sixth year class to create a new potion,” Sharp drawls. “Many of the students who’ve won in the past have gone on to become some of the Hogwarts’s most successful potioneers.  The winner of the contest will receive after hours access to the potions classroom, unlimited usage of the ingredient cupboard, and their name included on the plaque in the trophy room.” he explains.

Sharp continues droning on about the rules; you feel Sebastian’s breath tickle your ear “Garreth’s been assuming he’ll win since we were second years,” he whispers. “I’d love to see you put him in his place.”

You swat at the freckled brunette, who lets out another audible chuckle.  Scanning the room again, your eyes briefly make contact with Garreth’s.  He looks at you with something fierce in his eyes; it’s almost threatening, you think.  He also looks a tad bit deflated, but considering the two of you aren’t friends anymore, you don’t really care to know why.

“Sure, I’ll enter.” You say loudly enough for Garreth to hear. “I’m sure it’ll be a clean sweep.”

Garreth’s eyes turn to slits before he refocuses on his notes.  His face is turning red as he scribbles on the parchment, and you can’t help feeling a bit satisfied at his reaction.  Suits him right, you think, for being such a coward. You’re going to kick his ass and get back for the ten detentions he bought you last year.

Sharp’s NEWT level class is just as painful as you’d imagined it would be.  Sacharissa nearly slices her own finger off trying to cut open a sopophorous bean, and Everett faints from the blood.  Andrew sends his own bean flying across the room, thwacking Natty in the forehead; it incites a verbal altercation that has the two nearly come to blows before Sharp can separate them.  You and Sebastian can’t help but laugh watching them, falling dreadfully behind in your own quest to brew a draught of living death.

“Look at those prats,” Sebastian nudges you. 

You look over at the two redheads adjacent to you–they’re working diligently, ignoring the dramatics of the classroom.  Garreth is clearly guiding the process, Leander eagerly observing him as he chops and stirs. They’re the only two students in the classroom even remotely close to brewing the potion correctly, and it’s a little surprising to you that Garreth would be so tame. 

He tilts his head, copper colored hair falling in front of his eyes. His hair is longer, shaggier than last year. You also can’t ignore how much larger his forearms are, probably from detentions spent lifting the cauldrons to and from the storage room. They’re thick and freckled, a dusting of hair—

Garreth turns his head, glaring at you. You’ve been blatantly staring at him for a whole minute now.

“Oi, get it together, woman.” Sebastian chides, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. “I don’t think your cauldron is supposed to be purple—“

“Dammit!” You curse, turning back to your own brew. .  Sebastian laughs as you thwack him on the shoulder, stirring your potion.  It’s no good–the brew has turned the wrong color, and now resembles a fudgy texture.

“So much for winning the competition,” Sebastian teases you.  Your face heats up with embarrassment as Sharp walks over to your cauldron, assessing your work. 

“Better luck next time, I suppose.” Sharp says gruffly, raising his eyebrows at the thick goop. 

As expected, Garreth and Leander win the day’s best brew.  It takes twice as long as usual for you to scrub your cauldron, cheeks red from both embarrassment and the extra elbow grease you have to put in.  Sebastian, despite his promises to stay as long as he can, has already abandoned you to get to lunch ahead of the rush.  At this rate, you’ll miss lunch entirely.

“You should really throw some ashwinder eggshells in there.”

Looking up, you see Garreth standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets.  In lieu of the traditional blazer, he’s gone a bit casual with a crimson and gold Gryffindor sweater.  It looks a tad tight on him, and well worn.  Likely a hand-me-down from one of his many older brothers, you think.

“Mixed with water, they’re quite abrasive.  It’ll help with the cleaning.” Garreth suggests, shrugging his bag onto his shoulder.

“So, we’re talking again.” your tone is flippant; you scrub even harder at the baked in potion caking your cauldron.

Garreth rolls his eyes, dropping his bag to the ground. “Let me help,” he says gruffly, elbowing you out of the way.  He takes a handful of ashwinder eggshells, sprinkling it into your cauldron.  You peer over the edge as he dribbles water inside.

“Now put on your dragonhide gloves,” Garreth advises. “Don’t want to get burned, do you?”

You do as instructed, slipping the gloves on.  Garreth hands you the wire brush again, and this time the sludge slides off the edges of the cauldron with ease.

“See? Not so bad.” 

You open your mouth to thank him, but Garreth has stepped away from your station.  Bag in hand, he gives you a wary look.

“Earlier, when you were staring,” Garreth trails off.

“I wasn’t staring.” you scoff.  In reality, you were , but that’s not the point.

“You were,” Garreth countered. “You weren’t trying any funny mind tricks, were you?  I’d heard a rumor that you and Sallow were trying to study legilimency–”

Eyebrow raised, you cross your gloved arms. “Why on earth would I need to read your mind, Weasley?”

“To steal my potion recipe.” Garreth blurted, eyes narrowed. “For the contest.  You’re trying to win, I overheard you and Sallow talking about entering.”

You scoff in his face. “Why would I need to steal a recipe from you ?”

Garreth straightened, pushing his copper hair out of his eyes. “Because everyone knows that I,” jerking his thumb towards himself, “am going to win.  I’ve been planning my submission since I was a first year, and I’m not about to lose to you.” 

Whatever warmth you thought Garreth Weasley was going to give you is long gone. You lean back over your pewter cauldron, scrubbing aggressively.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d stoop so low, Garreth.” You seeth. “You know what? Just for that, I am going to enter Sharp’s contest now–and I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Like hell you are,” Garreth huffs, leering down at you. You hadn’t noticed just how tall he’d gotten over the summer–

Focus, you remind yourself, eyes flitting away from his form.

“What are you two still doing in my classroom?”

You and Garreth spin around, almost knocking your cauldron over in the process.  An exhausted looking Sharp stands in the doorway, his palm on his head.

“Not you two,” he mutters. “I had a feeling the two of you would be battling it out for best brew.” 

“We were just comparing notes, sir.” Garreth says easily, backing away from you. “She needed help cleaning her cauldron.”

“Not your best work today,” Sharp reminds you, peering into your now sparkling clean cauldron. “The two of you should be off to lunch, or else you’ll miss the meal.”

“Yes sir,” the two of you chirp in unison.  Garreth takes his leave while you’re stowing your cauldron away, and he’s nowhere to be seen once you get to the Great Hall for lunch.  You want to fight, defend yourself against his accusations, but it doesn’t look like he’ll give you the chance.

His loss , you think, meandering over to your house table.  

The first month of classes has been hell.  While you’d pictured your sixth year to be quite leisurely with the extra free periods, you’ve spent every study hall cooped up in the library, buried in your books.  Despite passing last term with flying colors, it feels like you’re going to spend your entire life catching up to your classmates. You might be the hero of Hogwarts, but you still feel stupid in History of Magic, stumbling over your words.

You’re cursing to yourself as you run through the streets of Hogsmeade, trying to make it to J Pippin’s before closing.  Sharp’s potions contest has fallen to the bottom of your priorities, but the events of lunch earlier in the day have pushed you to work on your submission. You’d been sitting at the table with Sebastian and Ominis, lamenting over your shared arithmancy assignment when Garreth and Leander walked into the Great Hall, loud cheers and whoops coming from the Gryffindor table.  They were sopping wet, hair windswept, having just tested Garreth’s potion submission.

“No one will be able to beat him,” Leander had declared loudly, rustling Garreth’s long red hair. Garreth was grinning broadly, a gaggle of fifth year girls surrounding him in awe.  That alone was irksome; as if they really knew Garreth Weasley.  

“Since when did Garreth Weasley become the hottest commodity?” Ominis asked, tilting his chin in his palm.

Sebastian took a sip of his pumpkin juice, snorting. “Probably because he grew five inches over the holidays,” he joked. “Lost the pudge too.”

“Sebastian,” you warned, flicking him in the head. “Don’t be so cruel.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, shrugging. “It’s true,” he argued. “Anyways, I can’t wait to watch you put him in his place during the potions competition.  Do you have your brew ready?”

“Of course I do,” You lied, turning back to your parchment. “Don’t be silly.”

In actuality, you didn’t have your brew ready whatsoever–you’d spent the last month tinkering with several recipes, but nothing seemed good enough for submission.  With potions due tomorrow, you’ll have to spend the rest of your day working on the brew.  The rest of your classes for the day go unattended, spending the afternoon cooped up in the Room of Requirement to draft a recipe.  Nothing seems to be working, and you’re out of focus potions.  You could brew them up yourself, but perhaps some fresh air and a walk will do you good–therein, a trip to J Pippin’s was necessary.

The bell rings as you push the door in, Parry Pippin smiling at you from the register.  You entertain his small talk, questions about your summer holidays, all while anxiously checking your pocket watch for the time.  You still had your arithmancy homework, as well as a four foot scroll due in Transfiguration next week to work on–

“You haven’t run into Mr. Weasley, have you?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you look up at Parry. “No, I haven’t.” you say sharply, taking the carefully wrapped package full of focus potions that he’s packed into your arms. “Why would I?”

Pippin clicks his tongue. “I’m fresh out of the stench of the dead, that’s all.  Mr. Weasley was trying to purchase some more for his potions project.  Nasty business, procurement.  It’s hard to find a supplier that’ll face up to the inferi in the first place.” The register opens, and he begins counting your change. “I recommended he reach out to you for assistance.”

You blink at the shopkeeper. “Me?” 

“Well of course,” Pippin snorts. “You’re rather fearless, aren’t you?  Not that it matters, of course, he was quite put off by the suggestion.  Asked me where he could find them, and I pointed out an old abandoned treasure cave a few miles north, up in the valley.  Can always find them lurking around there.”

“I’m sorry , you directed a student to an inferi den?” You gape.

Pippin looks at you, eyebrows raised. “Don’t they teach you how to fight them and what not?  Isn’t that what Defense Against the Dark Arts is for?  Anywho, Mr. Weasley seemed rather confident in his abilities.  Think he was a bit embarrassed that I recommended he ask a girl for help.”

You block out whatever Pippin is saying, tucking the package under your arm as you leave the shop.  While it’s not your responsibility to look after Garreth (considering recent events and his rather frosty attitude towards you) you can’t help feeling a bit worried.  Most students don’t have much experience with the undead; you only have a basic grasp on battling them due to Sebastian’s shenanigans the year prior. Inferi are tough, even for most grown adults to deal with; any wound inflicted by one can render even the strongest wizard ill.  

The sun is beginning to set, and while you know you should head straight back to the Room of Requirement to work on your contest brew, you turn towards the path north.  You’re certain you’ve visited the treasure den Pippin is talking about before, and it won’t hurt to check.  If the clearing is empty, you’ve just gotten extra exercise for the day.  If not–well, you don’t want to think about that quite yet.

You’ve forgotten how long the trek to the Hogsmeade Valley is, feet aching as you stumble over the rocky terrain. You bet that even if Garreth has gone to hunt the inferi, he’s likely given up by now, gone back to the castle already.  You doubt Garreth wants to battle the inferi–he’s always had a distaste for dueling, preferring to watch everyone battle it out during Crossed Wands rather than participate.  

You swallow thickly, trying to push the image of Garreth fighting the undead out of your mind. Despite your anger towards him, you really don’t want him to go up against something he’s not ready for just to win a stupid class contest.

The sky is dark by the time you round out the hill.  From a distance, you can see the wooden arch to the old treasure den, and to your relief, nothing is disturbed. You’re about to turn on your heel to go back to the floo Upper Hogsfield when you sniff the familiar putrid stench of inferi.  Your blood runs cold when you hear a familiar groan, and then anxious yelps.

“ Diffindo !  Ah, shit!” 

You drop your parcel in the long grass, disappearing into a blue wisp as you close the distance between yourself and the voice.  Of course, it’s Garreth, looking panicked and battered as he tries to slice through the inferi.  They’re not fast, but his leg is bleeding, and he doesn’t know that severing charm will do no damage to the undead.

“Garreth!” you yell, sliding through the rocks towards him.

Garreth’s eyes widen, crying out your name.  Despite his injury, he’s holding his arm out as if to shield you.  That bloody Gryffindor bravery, you think, swatting his arm away.

“Get back,” Garreth yells. “Get to Upper Hogsfield, I can hold them off–”

“Get out of the way, you idiot,” you shriek, waving your wand towards him. Depulso might be a bit extreme, but all you can think about is getting the wounded boy out of the way. As soon as you hear Garreth yelp, landing on the soft grass, you turn your attention back to the inferi, who are closing in.  

“Confringo!” you pant, unleashing fiery flames from the tip of your wand towards them. The heat of the fire has them shrieking and turning away. Several of them disintegrate, leaving behind the precious bounty Garreth had sought them out for in the first place.

It’s quiet, except for your heavy breathing and the screeches of inferi, all turning into piles of ash as you defeat them.  Once you’re sure the last one has been slaughtered, you turn back to Garreth, a few feet away in the grass.  He’s staring at you, dumbfounded, as he clutches the gash on his leg.  He’s looking rather pale, the blood seeping from his cut a strange dark color.  

“Garreth,” you breathe, falling to your knees next to him. 

“It must be infected,” he says slowly. “From the inferi.”

There’s no time to waste.  You dig through your hip pouch, pulling out one of your spare wiggenwelds.  Garreth will surely need a blood renewing potion and some more itensive healing potions when you get back to Hogwarts, but this will do for now. Pulling out the stopper, you push the vial into his hands.

“I can’t believe Pippin would direct you to an inferi den,” you snarl, tearing a piece of your cloak to make a makeshift bandage. Garreth is quietly sipping on the wiggenweld, trying not to look at the damage. “I have half a mind to report him to your aunt–”

“Don’t,” Garreth begs. “Please, don’t.  It’s embarrassing enough.”

“Garreth, you could’ve been killed.” You argue.

“It’s my own fault.” he says miserably. “Fire is what destroys inferi.  I can’t believe I fucking forgot.”

You give him a wry look. “Well, potions is your better subject.” you joke.

Garreth ignores your quip, downing the rest of the healing potion. “You came up to find me.” he points out, pushing the empty vial back into your hands. “Why?”

You shrug. “Pippin told me you didn’t want my help, and I assumed you’d go off trying to get the ingredients for yourself.  You shouldn’t go up against them alone, Garreth.”

“You fought them alone,” Garreth points out. “You could handle them.”

“Well, either I fought them, or else you’d be turning into an inferi yourself right now.” 

“Probably best to not waste my good looks on being a zombie.” Garreth jokes.  Taking note of your stern face and unwillingness to laugh, he winces. “Should we get back to school now?  Perhaps we can make it to Upper Hogsfield; take the floo from there.  But make sure to get some of that stench of the dead before we leave.”

Garreth carefully supervises you as you scoop up the murky essence into your vials; he eyes you as you tuck them in your bag.  Garreth tries to get up on his own, groaning as he balances on his good leg, swatting away your helping hand.

“Let me help you, you twat.” you urge him, slinging his arm around your shoulder.  It doesn’t do much–he really has grown, and you need to stand on your tiptoes to even support him.

The two of you stumble through the grass and you pass your sad little package on the way down.  Oh well, you think. Your potion is the least of your worries, considering Garreth is still dripping blood next to you. Despite his protestations that he’s doing fine, you know from the way he’s clutching your shoulder that he’s not.

“You’re not going to take me to the hospital wing, are you?” Garreth groans as you support him to the flickering green flame outside of Upper Hogsfield. “If you take me there, Blainey will tell Aunt Tilly, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that lecture yet.”

“I have somewhere else you can go.” you offer, biting down on your lower lip.  You’ve never invited anyone into the Room of Requirement before–Professor Weasley strictly forbade you from sharing the room, and you’ve kept it a secret from Sebastian, Ominis, and Natty for almost a year now.  But you’re sure you can’t get into too much trouble, especially if you’re healing another student.

“Do you trust me?” You ask Garreth, slipping your arm around his.

The redhead looks down at you, perhaps a bit skeptical.  “I trust you.”

“Good. Not like you have a choice anyways,” You remind him, turning back towards the flame.

“Okay, now this is truly unfair,” Garreth complains, splayed across your settee. “Aunt Tilly is officially my least favorite family member.”

You snort as you sprinkle mallowsweet into your bubbling cauldron. “Because she didn’t show you the Room of Requirement?”

“Yes,” Garreth barks. “You’re telling me I’ve been sneaking into Sharp’s office after hours just to trial potions, meanwhile there’s a perfectly good potions lab in the astronomy tower? Rubbish,” he mutters.  He picks at the piece of your cloak that you’ve tied around his thigh; it’s still bloody, and he looks peakish.

“The blood renewing potion is nearly done,” You assure him, walking away from the cauldron to assess his wound again. “Why do you need the stench of the dead so badly?” you ask, wrinkling your nose as you take off the bloody fabric. “Is it for your potion contest submission?”

Garreth swallows thickly. “Yes,” his voice is careful, trying not to give anything away.  He inhales sharply once the fabric has come off; his wound, despite the wiggenweld, still looks worse for wear. 

“Oh, come off it,” you roll your eyes, waving your wand to summon a fresh roll of linen. “Just tell me what it is. I guarantee you’re going to win anyways.”

Garreth gives you a funny look before bowling his shoulders over, letting out a loud sigh. “I’ve created a bottled tornado,” he admits, wincing as you bandage him up. “Bit of a play on the thunderbrew; you take the potion before entering battle, and you have full control of a windstorm against your enemies.”

“Is that why your hair was so fucked at lunch?” you muse. 

Garreth rolls his eyes. “It looked good, okay?”

The two of you glare into each other’s eyes for the first time in quite a while; after a terse twenty seconds, both of you burst into laughter.  

“Was it that bad?” Garreth wheezes.

You laugh, visibly shuddering. “Not that bad, actually. Those fifth years rather enjoyed it.”

Garreth rolls his eyes. “The most attention I’ve received from any of those girls, ever. Leander has been trying to talk me up to them, find us a double date.”

You’re quiet for a moment, stomach twisting with unfamiliar anxiety at the idea of Garreth and Leander sharing butter beers with those girls. Not that you care, really, but you miss hanging out around the Three Broomsticks every Saturday with Garreth.  He’d been one of your closest friends until the incident at Honeydukes, and then nothing . 

“Is that why you want to win the contest so badly?” You blurt. “For notoriety? Or just attention from the girls?” You joke.

Garreth shakes his head, shaking out his ginger mane like a lion.  Sometimes, you think it’s too fitting that he’s a Gryffindor. “Nah, not for that.”

“What for, then?”

Garreth chews on his lower lip. “Have I ever told you about my family?”

“Uh, no. Just that there’s a lot of them.” You admit, resting your palms on your knees.

“I’m one of seven siblings.” Garreth says, head falling back against a pillow. “There’s Arthur, Benedict, Cornelia, Deirdre, Edwin, Frederick, and myself.” he counts out his siblings on his thick fingers.

“Alphabetical order?” you asked, slightly amused.

Garreth rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, yes.” Your eyes flit down to his torso; the hem of his shirt has risen, exposing a freckled stomach. You think back to what Sebastian had said–how Garreth had lost his baby fat over the summer, his once soft stomach turning muscled and strong.  You try not to linger on the thatch of red hair trailing down to his waist. 

“Artie, Deirdre, and Freddie played Quidditch for the house team. Cornelia and Edwin were both prefects, and Benedict was head boy.” Garreth explains.

“A successful bunch,” you offer.

“Successful besides me.” Garreth grumbled. “Mum wouldn’t let me hear the end of it when I didn’t get prefect our fifth year.  I’ve always been middling at Quidditch too, so no hopes for the house team.” he says moodily. “Just plain, untalented Garreth. The only thing I'm even remotely good at is brewing a potion, so I've been hoping to win ever since I was a first year.  All my siblings tried, but none have won.  Thought I might get my own name out there, instead of just being the youngest Weasley.” His eyes are glued to the ceiling, but you can tell from the furrow in his brow and hardened jaw that he's frustrated.

You tilt your head, giving him a disapproving look. “I think you’re talented, Garreth.”

“I think you’re talented too,” Garreth points out. “Which is why you’re probably going to win the potion making contest.  Sharp hates me, after all.”

“I think you have a fair shot,” you argue. “You’ve spent all summer working on your potions.”

“Yes, but you’re you.” Garreth fights back. “You’ve had magic for what, a year?  And you’re the most powerful witch I know.” 

“It’s not that easy,” you mumbled under your breath, smoothing down the front of your trousers as you stand.  You step back over to the station; the blood renewing potion has finished, a thick purple sludge that leaves a metallic smell in its wake.  You pull out a clean vial, trying to ladle the necessary amount.

“Everything seems to come easy to you.” Garreth pointed out. “You defeated a troll, took town the goblin rebellion–”

“At what cost, Garreth?” you shout, closing your hand into a tight fist.  “Ow!”

Garreth shoots up, propping up on his hands to peer over at you.  You open your hand, shaking it out–you’ve shattered the vial.  Cursing under your breath, you walk over the wash basin, muttering a quick charm to get the tiny shards of glass out of your hand.

“Let me help,” Garreth pleads, hobbling over towards you.

“Get back on the couch, Gar.” You seethe, pointing across the room.  

Garreth puts his hands up, still shuffling your way.  You wag your hand; it’s still stinging, but it’s just a surface wound. A wiggenweld and a bandage will do just fine.  

“Let me,” Garreth says quietly, his tone soft towards you for the first time in ages. “It’s my fault, after all.”

“It’s not your fault,” You sigh. “It’s me, being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. You’re the furthest thing from stupid.” Garreth assures you. “I meant to say that it was my fault you got caught last year.”

You pause.  Is he really apologizing now?

Garreth takes the roll of linen, wrapping it around your palm. “You were looking for the billywig stings for me,” he says, tearing the linen with his teeth.  He sets down the roll, tying a knot around the bandage in your palm. “I’m the reason you got caught, and you covered for me. Flume could’ve called the aurors for burglary, and I let you take the fall.”

All you’ve wanted for the past six months is for Garreth to own up to his part in you getting all those detentions and losing fifty house points. You feel a little satisfied, but at the same time sad–you could’ve been friends all this time, instead of strangers.  Losing him made the other Gryffindors go icy against you, and it drove you further into Sebastian’s arms.  While you love your other freckled friend to death, you can’t help but wonder what trouble you could’ve avoided had you not felt so isolated. 

The thought overwhelms you, and you burst into a loud sob.  

“What’s wrong?” Garreth panics.

You wipe a tear from your eyes. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing at all.” you blubber.

“It’s clearly not,” Garreth says gently.

“It’s just we’ve been avoiding each other for months,” you take in a shaky breath. “And I’ve missed being your friend.”

Garreth lets out a loud sigh, his hand trailing down to touch your forearm.  It’s hard not to melt into his warm touch.

“I’m sorry,” he admits. “I was being stubborn.  I should’ve apologized ages ago, I’ve missed you too. I was just so intimidated by you, I forgot how to be your friend.”

“Intimidated, by me?” You gape.

Garreth gives you a look, raising his thick eyebrows. “You’re the Hero of Hogwarts,” he waves his free hand. “You only just discovered magic a year ago, and yet you’re at the top of the class.  You’re the best duelist I know; you bloody saved my life tonight.”

“I’m not a hero,” your voice falters. You’re not.  Garreth would be horrified to know what you’ve done–dabbled in dark magic, taken life (even if not by choice). 

“You’re a hero to me,” Garreth murmurs.  

You look into his deep green eyes.  They’re warm and honest; the Garreth you’ve gotten used to has a cold stare, eyes flitting away from yours as fast as possible.  This Garreth makes your stomach flip, but not in an uncomfortable way.  He’d always elicited that reaction from you, from the day you’d met.  Garreth had always been cheerful and cuddly, an arm always tossed around your shoulder as you sat together or fiddling with the hem of your robe.  It had gotten to the point where you might actually believe the rumors that he'd had a crush on you, considering the way his hugs lingered or the way his eyes caught you across the classroom.

For a second, you wonder if he ever actually did have a crush on you.  You also wonder if he still might.

“You should take the potion,” you change the subject, shaking off his grasp.

Garreth obediently sits back down on the settee while you scoop the thick potion into a clean vial.  He looks up at you with a smile as you settle down next to him, as if his leg still isn’t shaking and bloody.  

“Bottoms up,” you press the vial into his hand.

Garreth takes the blood renewing potion, shuddering as the thick sludge passes through his throat.  He shakes out his hair, setting the empty vessel down on the side table.

“How do you feel?” 

“Feeling better already,” Garreth assures you, and you know he’s telling the truth.  His cheeks are reddening, the color flooding back into his face.  You look down at the gauze wrapped around his leg; thanks to the potion, the other healing potions you’d forced him to take are now kicking in. 

“You’re brilliant, you know?” Garreth murmurs. “You’re beautiful, brilliant, and so damn brave. That’s why you’ll win Sharp’s contest.”

“Will you stop saying that?” You snip at him.

Garreth gives you an incredulous look. “It’s a compliment.”

“You don’t realize how much work it is,” you say, fidgeting with your hands in your lap. “To catch up to all of you.  Having this magic, not being able to control it–it doesn’t make any of the day to day any easier.  It seems like there’s always something I have to learn, things I should know by now that I don’t.  I feel like a fraud most of the time.” you admit, tears welling in your eyes.

“Hey, none of that,” Garreth tuts, wiping at your face. “You’re no fraud.  You, my dear, are the real deal.  I’m the one bumbling around, getting scratched up by inferi–”

You shut your eyes, clutching at the hand he’s resting on your face. “I won’t let you talk about yourself like that,” you argue. The thought of Garreth, one of the most clever wizards you know, feeling inferior to his siblings is still fresh in your mind. “You’re marvelous, Garreth.  You’re one of the best potioneers here at school, and you’re going to win.”

“But what about your submission?” His eyebrows are knitted together in confusion.

You shrug. “You need it more than I do–I already have my own space here, and you deserve the recognition.”

Garreth purses his lips together. “I can’t finish mine, unfortunately. Not without the ingredients–”

“Trust me, we have plenty now.” You assure him. “I probably have the rest of what you need here,” you say, scrambling to your feet. You rush back over to the potions stand, conjuring a clean cauldron. “I’m assuming you’re using the same base as a thunderbrew–”

Garreth is over to the potions station in three quick strides, closing the distance between you.  He grabs your wrist, but his touch is soft.

“You’ll really help me?” he asks, his voice hopeful. “Even if I’ve been an absolute prat towards you for the last six months–”

“I think if last year proves anything, I’d do anything for you, Garreth.” You want to look into his eyes, but the moment feels too charged. "You were one of my first friends here, and I care about you."

Garreth’s eyes flit down to your lips. “As a friend?” The question hangs heavy between the two of you.

You shake your head. “Yes...but also, no. Not just as a friend.” you say slowly, hoping he'll understand.

Garreth doesn’t release his grip; his fingers move down, tangling with yours.  He takes a step closer and you can feel his hot breath on your cheek.  You look up at him, opening your mouth to say anything , but you don’t get the chance.  Garreth’s lips crash against yours in a tender kiss, the pad of his thumb running over the back of your hand.  You tilt your head up a bit too eagerly, your teeth clacking against his.

Garreth pulls away, and you’re momentarily mortified until he descends back upon you, this time wrapping his arms around your waist tugging you close.  Your hands are in his hair, grasping at the copper locks you’ve spent the last six months eyeing.  It’s just as soft as you thought it would be.  Sighing into his touch, you can tell the freckled boy is smiling against your mouth from the curve of his chin.  His tongue glides against your bottom lip and you grant him access, warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach as the kiss deepens.  You want more, even if you're being greedy.  You don’t want any distance between the two of you whatsoever anymore.  

Garreth pulls away and you whine at the loss of him.  He presses his forehead against yours, looking quite bashful.  The look in his eyes says everything you need to know for now.

I’m sorry.

I’ve missed you.

I have feelings for you.

“Should we get to brewing?” you ask breathlessly, gesturing down to the empty cauldron.

“Let’s. I want to get it out of the way–I think the two of us have some more catching up to do.” Garreth teases, his hands hovering over your waist.

You grin, turning your attention down to the cauldron. Garreth’s warm body encases yours from behind, listing off all the ingredients and their exact ratios.  His chin lands against your shoulder, breath tickling your ear as he whispers the instructions. It's only after he presses his lips against the nape of your neck that you slam the chopping knife down, hands shaking.

“If you keep this up, we’ll never finish.” You warn him.

Garreth’s chuckle sends a shiver up your spine. “Fine, fine.” he sighs, pressing a kiss against your cheek as he steps away. “I’ll observe some personal space for now, but the moment we’re done…” his voice trails off. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

You swat at him, rolling your eyes as he starts chopping mandrake leaves. The air in the Room of Requirement feels thick, charged with the tension between the two of you as you take turns stirring the altered thunderbrew. Before long, the cauldron is emitting sparks of lightning and gusts of wind, indicating your success.

“Back to catching up?” Garreth asks, chewing on his bottom lip as he bottles the brew.  As soon as the potion is stowed away safely, you nod, and the redhead wastes no time taking you back to the settee.

You never did manage to have the time to come up with your own potion.  Garreth had insisted on working through the night to help you come up with your own submission, just so he could win fair and square, but you'd shrugged him off.  You'd only entertained the idea of entering to compete with him in the first place.  Besides, you would rather save the precious time in the Room of Requirement for other activities.

Professor Sharp had just announced the winner of the potion brewing contest before the bell rang.  In a tired, yet unsurprised tone, Sharp announces that Garreth has won by a landslide.  The class is roaring and chanting for him; Sharp is perturbed that he’ll have to grant the budding potioneer access to his classroom and store cabinet after hours.  Nevertheless, Garreth’s name is quickly etched into a little silver tag that will be added to the plaque in the trophy room, and class is dismissed.

“I can’t believe you bungled up your potion.” Sebastian shakes his head, slipping the strap of his bag over his shoulder. 

You shrug, clutching your books against your chest. “Just wasn’t meant to be.”

“I was really hoping you’d put Weasley in his place,” Sebastian mumbles.  

You turn your head over your shoulder, eyes immediately locking with Garreth’s.  He’s standing over his cauldron, sprinkling ashwinder egg shells into the vessel as he smiles at you.  His cheeks are a bit flushed–you’re not sure if it's from the heat of the cauldron, or from the memory of the kisses you’d shared in the Room of Requirement after finishing his contest submission.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, Seb.” You assure him. “I think I’ll be putting him in his place much more often now.”

Sebastian doesn’t catch on to your innuendo, shrugging as you pass through the door.  “Fancy meeting Ominis for lunch?”

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I”ll catch you both later.  I think I left my quill behind.”

Once Sebastian is past the corner and out of view, you turn back around, slipping into the potions classroom.  You were hoping for a moment alone with Garreth, but Leander’s whinging cuts the silence.  

“The two of you couldn’t stop staring at each other all period,” Leander shakes his head. “What’s going on?”

Casting a quick disillusionment charm, you slip into the store room, leaving the wooden door slightly ajar to watch the boys interact.

“Don’t worry about it, Lee.” Garreth assures him, waving his wand to rinse out his cauldron.

“Are the two of you friends again?” Leander asks. “Sallow must be pissed.”

You shuffle forward, trying to get a better look at the two of them.

“He’ll get over it,” Garreth laughs, picking up his cauldron to stack it against the rest. His shirt is rolled up above his elbows, and you bite down on your lower lip as you watch the muscles in his forearms flex.

“I knew you’d win,” Leander snorts. “You’re the best in class, everyone knows it.  You deserved it.  But honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t even enter.”

“I know,” Garreth shrugs. “But she’s smart too.  Quick as a whip, hell of a duelist.  I don’t think we ever thank her enough for what she’s done.” 

Leander scoffs. “Why are you kissing her arse? Oh no, don’t tell me you have a crush on her again.” he complains, rolling his eyes.

Garreth chuckles, walking back over to the station to pick up his book bag.  “Crush on her?  Mate, I’m going to marry that girl someday.”

Your heart stops for a moment, cheeks aflame.  Garreth had confessed his feelings to you in the Room of Requirement, after the two of you had to drag yourselves apart at the risk of taking things too far. Now that you were back in his life, he assured you that there was little chance of him ever letting you get too far away again.  You’d agreed wholeheartedly then, but your mind hadn’t even gotten to the idea of life post-school. 

Marriage .  Marriage to Garreth Weasley.  The thought of it is comfortable, like a worn in sweater or a cup of tea.  You can imagine waking up every morning to his lips pressed against your neck, encased in his warm embrace. 

Yes, you might like that.  

Even though you have a disillusionment charm on, you swear Garreth is looking straight at you through the crack in the doorway.  He has a dreamy, faraway look on his face, one that makes you want to barrel out the door and tackle him to the ground right now.

“Now you really sound like you’ve been confunded,” Leander laughs. “You’re sixteen, Gar.”

“It’s more than that.” Garreth says fondly. “I know it is.”

“Whatever you say,” Leander snorts, heading towards the door. “Coming to lunch?”

“I’ll meet you there,” Garreth echoes.  

You hear Leander grumbling to himself, his footsteps becoming quieter as he gets further away from the classroom.  Finally, you hear nothing at all except the familiar hum of the boisterous Gryffindor boy you’ve been itching to spend time with all day.

The door flies open and Garreth reaches out, tapping your shoulder.  It disarms your disillusionment charm, and you blink up at him in shock.  He’s still beaming, a toothy grin accompanied by freckled rosy cheeks.  Before you know it, the door is shutting behind you, and he’s backed you into the shelf.  The taller boy has you pinned against it, muttering a quick locking charm before he slips his wand into his back pocket.

“I hope you heard me,” Garreth murmurs, brushing hair out of your face.

“I did,” you stammer. “You’re mad, Garreth Weasley.”

Garreth grins broadly, his hair falling against your forehead as he presses his body into yours.

“Maybe,” he sings. “But you heard me.  When you know, you know.”

You have no complaints. With Garreth wrapped around you, sixth year might not be so daunting.