#(trying to compliment my writing but accidentally complimented my research skills instead)

[ckret2]

sometimes i forget how much of your writing i’ve absorbed into my understanding of canon. the other day on twitter people were discussing bill’s biology and i was like bro don’t they know about the exoskeleton? before realizing that no. no they do not. because it’s not actually *technically* canon.

my friend... i'm flattered and honored

but the exoskeleton is canon

[cixthotshit]

A Cup of Rose Americano

Pairing: Bae Jinyoung x Original Female Character|Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Poor Girl/Rich Boy, Coffee Shop/Gangster AU (IDEK how I got here, just go with it)

Summary: There's more than meets the eye with every person, including Bae Jinyoung, the world's finest barista at Personal Barista Cafe

Word count: 4.7k

Rating/Warnings: Mature / Explicit Sexual Content: Porn With Some Plot, Kissing, Mirror Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Creampie

Author’s Note: I wanted to write a fluffy Coffee Shop AU but NGL something else has been preoccupying my mind and the world building to this fic kind of went off the rails and transformed into a completely different story. Enjoy this smut, readers! I really want to explore this world a lot more but IDK if I can commit to anything beyond this RN. So please, please enjoy this! Sorry in advance for mistakes! I don't always catch everything when I proofread.

I always appreciate some feedback on my writings!

"Really, it'll be a...new coffee experience," Hyeon assured Sandy. She handed Sandy a green card. It felt like an expensive platinum credit card, the card made of metal, feeling heavy and cold in her hand. "All you have to do is fill out a survey after you get your free coffee. Once you make it inside, hand the card over to your barista."

"Aren't you supposed to find actual volunteers?" Sandy asked, looking at the shiny card. The only thing on the card was the name of the new test cafe, PB Cafe.

“Trust me,” Hyeon said with a grin. “You’ve never had coffee like this. This is free, too. You’re going to say no to free coffee? And I swear, this is really me saying it, their coffee is really good.”

“Fine, thanks for the free coffee.”

“Enjoy!” Hyeon turned her back to Sandy, most likely scanning for potential test subjects for her new marketing event. Being her best friend, Sandy was always her first test subject. She didn’t know if Hyeon’s bosses approved of her taking advantage of all the free stuff she was receiving.

Sandy walked over to a shop that was setup at the southwest corner of a 3 story building. The walls were white and the windows were covered by white curtains. “PB Cafe” was written in black on the front door, though there were no door handles. Standing in front of the door, Sandy noticed a black square pad beside the right side of the door. She pressed the green card to the black pad and jumped slightly as the glass door slid open. A short piano tune played, sounding old but familiar, reminding her of old Hollywood movies from the mid-20th Century.

Tentatively, she stepped in. Walking past the white curtains, she found herself inside a small room. At the back end of the room was a small bar with one wooden chair in front of it. It only took her 4 steps to reach the chair, so she pulled it out and sat down. The wall behind the bar slid down to the floor and a broad shouldered man walked out from what looked like a bright white light before the wall slid back up behind him.

Too shocked to react, Sandy set the green card down onto the smooth marble countertop. Her eyes couldn’t leave the face of her barista. He was very handsome and his small grin softened his masculine exterior. Wordlessly, he took the green card and placed it in the front left pocket of his black apron.

“Welcome to Personal Barista Cafe,” he said in a soft, sultry voice. “My name is Bae Jinyoung, your Personal Barista today. How shall I address you?”

“Uh, just call me Sandy, I don’t like formalities much.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sandy. If you don’t like formalities feel free to call me BaeJin or BaeBae.” She gave a soft chuckle and threw her hand over her mouth, feeling her cheeks warm up. Such a sultry man telling her to call him something as cute as BaeBae tickled her. “Is this your first drink with PB Cafe?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t know anything about this cafe, except that you have good coffee.”

“A Personal Barista will make you a personalized drink,” he explained, pulling out a menu form. “Whatever you order, I will make it in front of you. If you want to know how I prepare your drink, please let me know and I will explain as I go. If you want small talk instead, I enjoy a small conversation as I prepare you a drink. If you want silence, for any reason, please don’t feel pressured to speak if you don’t want to.”

“Can I get an Americano?” she asked, after glancing at the long list of coffee drinks. The menu was simple and elegant, the writings were in cursive but the paper was black and the ink white. She liked the seemingly simple attention to detail. “How long have you been a barista, BaeJin?”

“Almost a year,” he replied. He poured fresh ground coffee into a metal contraption with a long neck. She pressed her lips together as her eyes were fixed on his skilled, large hands. He was using a device to compact the coffee grounds.

“Do you enjoy being a barista?”

“I do. It allows me to be creative. My regular job is stressful.”

He put the coffee grounds into the machine and pressed a few buttons. She watched him place a small white espresso mug under the spout of the machine. He grabbed a large white mug of coffee, and looked at her with a soft grin.

“This is your side hustle?” she asked. PB Cafe seemed like it paid well.

“Most people have more than one job these days,” he replied.

“That’s true,” she replied. “I have a day job and a night job.”

“What are your jobs?”

“I’m interning at a law firm, helping a paralegal out. I’m hoping to get my private investigator’s license soon.”

“You want to be a private investigator?” he asked.

“I want to be a lawyer,” she answered, “but having a private investigator’s license helps me pick up skills. Research is the true gift of being a good lawyer.”

“Research. You must be very smart and hard working.”

“You are sweet,” she said, resting an elbow onto the counter, leaning forward. “I wish my smarts and hard work were enough to give me success. I’m lacking in luck lately.” His eyes drifted away from the espresso machine and looked into her eyes. She felt her cheeks turn hot, realizing she had overshared. It’d been a sad thought, too. “I feel very lucky right now.”

“Sandy, I don’t mean to make assumptions about people but if I were to guess you are someone with expensive tastes,” he said. He pulled out two small brown glass bottles from a drawer. “But, you settle for less.”

“I..” she breathed out.

She should have been insulted, but her barista BaeJin was right. Sandy had always been envious of people who could afford designer things or had the means to go on extravagant vacations, but all of that had always been a dream. The closest she got was free shit from Hyeon. A drink from PB Cafe was likely three times that of a drink from Starbucks, and Sandy could only afford Starbucks for special occasions.

“Why are you saying this?”

“I want to make you a drink in which you will appreciate,” he replied, pulling out a single stemmed pink rose from under the counter, and handed it to her. She felt her cheeks flush with heat as she accepted it. “Refined, seemingly ostentatious, but simple and hopefully, delicious.”

He poured hot water from a glass kettle into the mug. She felt her cheeks turn hot again as he reached over and plucked a single petal from the rose she held. He tilted a single drop of liquid from one of the brown bottles onto the petal.

“Rose water,” he said to her as he locked eyes with her for a second. He placed the rose petal into the mug, letting it float in the hot water. He poured the espresso into the mug of water, and took a spoon to scoop out the wilted petal, tossing it away before handing the drink to her.

She gave it a sip, and shut her eyes, a smile on her lips. Using a flower as aromatic as a rose was difficult to pull off in cuisine. Oftentimes the rose aroma was too overpowering, reminding one’s nose of perfume instead of food. Baejin’s Rose Americano, though, was the perfect balance of a good cup of coffee elevated with some elegance, refined by the subtlest hint of a rose’s sweet scent. The warm breath she exhaled after a hot sip of Americano filled her senses with flowery comfort.

“This is the most...beautiful cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted,” she replied, setting the mug down when she was half finished. “It tastes...beautiful.”

He gave a small chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile any wider than she already was. He was incredibly cute, grinning in reaction to her compliment. How could a man exude the amount of sensuality like BaeJin yet be so cute that she wanted to squish him like a marshmallow?

“You like it?” he asked.

“I do,” she replied. “I didn’t know a cup of Americano could be improved. Thank you for this cup of coffee. You’re a gifted barista.”

“Thank you. I would love to make you another drink.”

“I’ll try to come back one day,” she said earnestly.

She sipped her drink and glanced at her phone. Thanking her talented, handsome (and cute) barista BaeJin one last time, Sandy finished her drink and sprinted out of the odd, surreal cafe. She had to get ready for work. Smelling the pink rose in her hand, Sandy smiled to herself. Who knew her barista would be the first man to give her a rose?

--

“Diamond! Malibu was accidentally double booked,” Danielle called out into the dressing room. “Can you give a lap dance in the Blue Champagne Room before going home?”

“Wait,” Sandy said, holding the gold hoop earring she’d just taken off her left earlobe, “I’m not going to chase Malibu for the flat fee. The last time I covered for her, not only did her John not tip me but I had to chase her for 4 days before she gave me the cash.”

“I have a hard time chasing her down, too,” Danielle said with a heavy sigh, handing her purple vape pen to Sandy to hold. She dug into her pink and purple Bedazzled fanny pack, and fished out a few bills. She handed a bag of clothing to Sandy. “Let me know if this John is handsy or out of line. He’s a new customer. You have five minutes, babe. Fix your makeup.”

Handing the vape pen back to her boss, Sandy put the cash into her purse before shutting and locking the drawer to her vanity. She put her earring back on and retouched her eye makeup and lipstick. Her locks of hair looked good as she combed her fingers through her hair, looking into the mirror before getting up to change.

Sandy hadn’t exactly planned on becoming a stripper, but during her freshman year in college, she took a class on feminist studies, specifically on sex work. What started out as a learning experience in respecting sex work, and educating herself on the legal struggles of sex workers’ rights, Sandy soon found herself stripping as a means of extra income. She herself was in need of money, and recognized her beauty was valued enough that she could make capital from it.

Having walked out on her dysfunctional family as soon as she turned 18, Sandy had been hustling on her own for years. She was still working towards a career in law, but in the meantime, she was balancing between her day job as an unpaid intern at a shitty law firm and her night job as a stripper at a club called Blue Paradise. Giving lap dances were only nice when she received good tips, but they didn’t happen often enough. All she wanted was a good tip.

Pulling out the outfit Danielle handed to her, she took off her clothes and put on her new outfit. She wore a neon pink G-string bikini bottom with her matching lace bra under a black pencil skirt and a white costume button up office dress shirt. She put on a loose blue tie around her neck, and put on a pair of thick black framed glasses, matching it with her black leather knee high boots. Apparently, this new customer had a librarian kink.

Walking down the hall, toward the other side of the back of the club, she entered the room with the blue door at the end of the hall. The Champagne Rooms, where customers received their private lap dances, were color coded. The Blue Room was where the clients with specific kinks went.

Opening the door, Sandy pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and looked up to see her John seated on the black couch. The dim lighting of the room cast a shadow over his body, making it hard for her to make out his face. She blinked, and closed her mouth, realizing that her customer was her barista from PB Cafe, BaeJin. It had been days since she had her cup of Rose Americano.

He was wearing a loosely worn grey sweater with black denim jeans. She didn’t think it was possible but he looked more handsome than she last remembered. Perhaps, with her body so close to his, knowing that he was there for devious reasons, her face flushed and her nipples hardened as heat rushed through her body from head to toe.

“BaeJin!” she said, forgetting her sexy librarian character.

“Don’t move,” he said, looking alarmed. She stood completely still, one hand on the door handle. “You’re a stripper, Sandy?”

“You...you remember me?” He nodded. “Stripping is helping me pay for my law degree.” She licked her lips and tilted her head, pushing her chest forward slightly. “I can give you what you want.”

“I can’t do this,” he replied, crossing his left leg over his right. His eyes left her, and diverted to the ground. Her ego was bruised. Not only did she need the money, but her vanity made her feel upset that he didn’t want a lap dance from her. “I should go.”

“I have to try to keep you here,” she said shyly, pressing her back against the door. “If I don’t, that means I’m not good at my job.”

“How long should we be in here for you to be considered good at your job?” he asked, his eyes returning to meet her gaze.

“You don’t want a lap dance? Am I not cute? My tits too small?”

He gave a chuckle, and looked away when his eyes moved to her chest as she talked.

“You’re very cute,” he replied, “but that’s the problem. As a barista, I don’t date customers. Since you didn’t actually pay for your drink, I thought it’d be OK to ask you out if I ever saw you again. But if I pay for this lap dance, I wouldn’t want to ask you out. It’s not fair for me to proposition you while you’re working.”

“You’ve been thinking hard about me?” Her cheeks felt hot and goosebumps formed on her arms. “Would you accept my invitation if I asked you out after this? I’m actually supposed to be off work by now, but this is my last job tonight. If I don’t give you a lap dance, we didn’t cross any lines, right?”

He nodded, and she gave a nervous chuckle.

“You said that being a barista was your side hustle,” she said, noticing the expensive watch and ring on his left hand. Sex workers had to know street codes to keep themselves safe, and watches and rings were how gang members communicated their loyalties and rankings. “What’s your main job? You said it’s stressful.”

His right hand wrapped around his platinum watch, the case of the watch encrusted with diamonds. The C9 Gang was a wealthy gang with origins in Tokyo, Japan, platinum was their calling card. BaeJin’s gold band emerald ring sat on his middle finger, indicating he was a made man of high rank. Sandy was impressed; BaeJin had acclimated to a high status in a gang at a young age.

“How long have you been working here, Sandy?” he asked in response.

“Diamond,” she answered, her grip remaining firm on the door. “My stage name is Diamond.”

“Sandy...Diamond,” he said with a grin. He stood, and she took a deep inhale of breath as he took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, his left arm wrapping around her waist as his hand gripped onto her wrist. Her hold on the door handle loosened. “You are the diamond in the rough in Blue Paradise. You still want to invite me out on a date?”

She took a gulp of breath, staring deeply into his dark brown eyes. He licked his lips and her eyes drifted to his mouth. Giving the most gentle nod of her head, she said, “Yes.”

“I drive a blue Ferrari F60 America,” he said as the tip of his nose touched hers.

“I don’t know anything about cars,” she replied, shutting her eyes. His breath was warm, making it hard for her to breathe. He chuckled and she felt his head rest onto her shoulder.

She opened her eyes when she felt a hand touch her chin.

“I drive a blue car,” he said, his eyes drifting down her face to her lips. His thumb ran across her bottom lip gently, sending heat deep into her groin. Her stomach ached at the touch. “It’ll be the most expensive looking car you’ll see when you walk outside.” He looked directly into her eyes again. “I’m a dangerous man, Sandy...Diamond. I have to ask you one more time, do you want to keep talking to me?”

She chewed on the inside of her left cheek nervously, and furrowed her eyebrows. Given how close she was to getting the paid job as a paralegal at Johnston’s &Partners, Sandy was one step closer to her dreams of becoming a lawyer. Would it be ethical to date a gangster?

“Will you take me home or will we be going to your place?” she answered. Life was too short not to take risks.

--

Upon his request, she left work wearing her costume. BaeJin’s description of having the most expensive looking car was accurate. The navy blue car shone brighter than any other car, and the curves of the body created an elegant design to the car. He’d opened the passenger door for her. She realized her skirt barely covered her ass as the cold leather from the seat hit the back of her thighs.

He drove them up a curvy hill to get to his expensive mansion, placed behind a small forest. It sat atop of a mountainous hill, overlooking the bright lights of the city far below. BaeJin was a man of very high rank by the looks of his home. It was large and designed with multiple floor to ceiling windows. Sandy took a soft gulp of air as her mouth felt dry.

“Your home is beautiful,” she said when he led her into his home, the hallway lined with expensively framed paintings. The jade vase that held 3 white lilies beside the coat hanger looked like it was worth more than everything she owned, including the small amount of cash she had in her bank account.

BaeJin’s home aesthetic was minimalist, though each room had a piece of furniture that popped out, like the jade vase in the front entrance. In his bedroom, he had a rose gold encrusted full length mirror sitting at the foot of his bed. It was shameless, but did not surprise her. Their eyes locked as BaeJin sat down at the foot of the bed. Their fingers intertwined when she reached her left hand out to his outstretched right hand.

“I spent a week trying not to think about you,” he said, pulling her easily onto his lap. His free hand wrapped around her waist. “The closest thing to you was trying to get a stripper to dress up like a sexy librarian.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” she said, squeezing his hand. “You went to Blue Paradise wanting a fantasy. Instead, you left with your fantasy.”

His hand released hers and she felt his hand between her legs, sliding up against her slit. Shutting her eyes she gave a soft moan, surprised at his swift movement.

“You deserve the best in life,” he said into her ear before grazing his teeth gently against her neck. “Don’t ever settle for less.”

He kissed her, his lips warm and firm. His tongue parted her lips and she gave a soft hum. She pushed his tongue out of her mouth, appreciating the taste of floral green tea from him. Her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him closer to her. He tasted better than the beautiful cup of Rose Americano.

With a clouded head, she helped him pull his sweater off as he aggressively pulled her top off of her, the cheap buttons popping loudly as they flew into the air. Her skirt failed to exist when he ripped the zipper and tore the fabric apart with his bare hands.

“Are you going to rip me apart?” she asked breathlessly when his fingers found their way under her bra, fondling her erect nipple. She gave a soft moan and he grinned as he pinched her sensitive bud.

“I’ll be as hard or soft as you want,” he assured her. The pad of his thumb grazed against her nipple. Her back shivered as a sharp heat rode up her back.

“I like a bit of both,” she said, her cheeks hot. It felt like a dream to have BaeJin telling her he would do as she wanted. “You ruined my skirt.”

“The cheap costume skirt?” he asked, his hand returning to rubbing her slit. “You don’t have to settle, remember?” She shut her eyes, her hand grabbing his arm as two of his fingers pressed against her clit. “I like you best without clothes anyway.” The heat intensified as his fingers moved down lower, moistening her panties with the slick heat coming out of her pussy. Her back shook again as his fingers moved up against her slit, and then back down. “Your voice is lovely.”

She moaned as she rested her head against his chest, his fingers continually creating more heat between her legs. One finger slipped under her panties, pulling the fabric away from her wet cunt. The back of his knuckle pressed against the engorged bud of her clit, and she mewled as he rubbed up and down against her.

“BaeBae,” she could only speak with a shaky breath, “BaeBae, I’m going to come.”

Her hips thrust haphazardly against his knuckle as a small flash of heat washed over her, goosebumps forming up the back of her neck. Her orgasm disappeared as soon as it came and she breathed through her mouth. Her pussy felt wet as her slick heat dripped out of her.

“I was just playing with you,” he said with an amused smile, his eyes locked onto the mess between her legs, including his wet fingers. He spread her juices onto her folds, and moved the pads of his index and middle fingers to draw small circles onto her clit. She mewled, shutting her eyes, as her hips rutted against the motions of his fingers. “But with you this wet, I can fuck you right now.”

“BaeBae,” she breathed out, opening her eyes.

Her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked at him. Wordlessly, she stood as their hands began removing each other’s clothes off. His expensive jewelry remained on as he pulled her back to his front, making her stand between his legs. His hand went between her legs and he massaged the inside of her thigh. She hummed a soft moan, enjoying the way his hand relaxed her muscles.

Both of his hands wrapped around her waist, and his lips kissed her neck. He requested she trust him, and one hand reached down to her right knee and had her stretch her leg out to rest over his. As his other hand went to her left knee, she understood what he was doing. He wanted a full view of her pussy so she sat on his lap with her legs hooked over his.

“Ready to put this to use?” he asked, his hands kneading her hips. His reflection from the mirror was staring at her. She saw the cheeks of her flushed face turn a bright red, and she tilted her head down to look away from the mirror. The blood coursing through her chest up to her head clouded her vision. “Look at us.”

His right hand cupped her face, and she felt his wrist press up against the front of her neck. The pulse from his wrist beat rapidly against the pulse on her neck, and she struggled to breathe as her eyes locked onto his from the reflection in the mirror. Hot blood rushed to her groin and her hips jerked forward, out of her control. His left arm wrapped around her waist had her firmly in his hold, so all she could do was wiggle in his lap. Feeling the muscles of his thighs flex under her made her buttocks tighten, her body anticipating his cock.

“If you let me take you raw,” he said softly against her ear, his eyes locked with hers through the reflection of the mirror, “that’ll make you mine.”

His hold on her face was gone as his hand grabbed his cock. He rubbed his hard cock against her slit. She bit her bottom lip as his heat caused more juices to pool out of her cunt. It made her nerves shake, itching her skin in unbearable heat. He blinked, and his eyebrows furrowed as she opened her mouth to breathe loudly.

“I’m yours,” she said clearly. He groaned as he pushed the tip of his cock into her entrance. “Give me everything, BaeJin.” Pleasure blinded her vision as she saw nothing but white and gold flecks of stars. She gave a loud gulp when she felt his hand grip onto her chin again, his wrist pressing against her throat. Her grip on his arms tightened as she held onto him for leverage. His cock pushed in deeper, and the walls of her pussy trembled as heat filled her body in overwhelming waves. “I’m yours.”

His lips were on her neck and when her vision cleared all her eyes could focus was on the way his cock was fucking her pussy. He started with shallow pushes, the rhythm steady as she bounced on his lap. She came and she gave a gentle mewl, blurting out his name as her walls squeezed his cock. A gentle chuckle escaped her lips as she saw him shut his eyes tight.

“You’re so easy to please,” he said as he pushed in deep. She gave a loud groan as he pulled out roughly before pushing in fast, going in balls deep. He started a steady, deep rhythm and she cried as she was filled with undiluted pleasure.

“You fuck so good,” she moaned, her hand reaching back to grab his hair. He sucked on her neck, leaving a red mark before he kissed her shoulder. “BaeJin, fuck me. I’m gonna - I’m - I’m gonna come.”

His grip around her waist tightened as he pushed faster into her, and they bent forward together as he came into her in deep pushes. Her fingers dug into his skin as she shut her eyes, taking in the sensation of his hot seed filling up her insides.

“Come,” he panted out heavily as she felt him withdraw from her. She whimpered as she felt his middle finger push into her come-filled cunt. His thumb rubbed up against her clit, making her nerves dance in hot waves. She cried out a soft orgasm as she came again. She breathed heavily as she rested against his body.

“We barely know each other,” she said after a while. She didn’t know how long they sat together, staring at their reflection before she finally spoke.

“We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other,” he said, running a hand up and down her thigh, sending heat up and down her back. “You are mine now.”

He pulled her off his lap, and they laid in bed together. A shiver went down her back as he kissed her shoulder. They were facing each other, her left leg locked between his muscular thighs.

Giving a laugh, she watched him grab her wrist. He kissed the inside of her wrist before kissing the inside of her elbow. She shut her eyes as she felt his lips on her shoulder. Every kiss sent a vibrating heat under her skin. His mouth sucked on her neck and she grabbed onto the back of his hair as his teeth grazed against her skin. The muscles in her stomach tightened. The world ceased to exist as BaeJin’s embrace consumed her.

[theshinsun]

....Crushing, You Wanna Dance Mothafucka?, FTM Brazil OiHina, Golden bc you Know I'm a sucker for GWGE and modern ATLA HAVE FUN and thank you my dude!! <3

Crushing

or, “How to confess your feelings to your arrogant, melancholy, possibly-bisexual power forward with a terrifying but very attractive face, by Sakurai Ryo”

Excerpt: 

He hadn’t meant to look. Not for any extended period of time, and certainly not with the intent of satisfying his own curiosity or observing in any way without Aomine-san’s knowledge and consent, it was just… in the locker rooms it was sometimes difficult to avoid confronting such realities... noticing things…

Things like the rich, burnished tan that extended all the way down the muscular expanse of Aomine-san’s long, bare back. The flex of his broad shoulders as he shrugged out of his school uniform, the accidental glimpse of two little dimples peeking out over the waistband of his shorts that made Ryo want to just die. Just lay face down on the linoleum floor and let the evening janitorial staff dispose of his remains.

You Wanna Dance Mothafucka?

I wanna write AoKise dancing together. I wanna write an AoKise dance battle, I have a mighty need for this concept and I’m not content to wait til I finish my college AU to put it out there. I’ve gained such a new respect for Kise as a character and I’d love to give him some time to shine, with my best boy in tow of course. I’d probably go the route of an AU where they haven’t met, run into each other at a club, get way too competitive and tear it up on the dance floor, and meet up after (possibly in the restroom) to make out/fool around all flushed and sweaty it’d be pure pwp. 

FTM Brazil OiHina

there aren’t enough people losing their minds over Brazil Hinata you guys. there’s also not enough people writing OiHina. there are people creating some (fantastic) FTM Hinata content, but I wanna intersect all of these things in one fic. the manga destroyed my soul I still can’t believe the Brazil arc is canon... anyway I just got an idea to do a oneshot where Oikawa finds out Hinata is trans when he sees his top surgery scars during one of their games, they have a respectful albeit humorous discussion (about high school and making assumptions and how “omg I couldn’t tell at all!” isn’t actually a compliment). somewhere along the line talking about past teams/relationships Hinata confesses to having had a crush on Oikawa, and maaaaaybe goes with him back to his hotel room instead of going home and maybe they kiss or smth, I’m still fuzzy on the details but I’d very much like to make this happen.

Golden

I’ve been toying with the idea of rewriting Girl With Golden Eyes to be more accurate and concise for awhile now... a year or two at least. only recently have I considered rehauling the story entirely (I wouldn’t scrap the original, and the new version might not even follow the same plotline... the common thread would mainly be the concept of addict Aomine)

Major changes would include:

AoKise as the main pairing (“golden” referencing his hair and eyes as well as being a euphemism for heroin, opportunity for a longer-standing established relationship, Kise’s lightheartedness contrasting the severity of the situation and eventually leading to denial/downplaying on his part)

a more gradual descent into drug abuse for Aomine; starting with alcohol, prescription pain killers and other downers before jumping into heroin, if at all

more realistic portrayals of the effects of each drug, addiction, relapse and recovery in general (I did my research for the previous fic but it’s still extremely inaccurate in many areas)

a little less melodrama overall, but no less emotional struggle and suffering this is me we’re talking about

I’d probably cut it down to about 6-8 chapters max, possibly longer installments, but with less unnecessary filler and more plot and character-driven action

some kind of overlying message with more nuance than “drugs bad”?

modern ATLA

in the middle of the Avatar renaissance I got a surge of inspiration to try my hand at a modern AU (honestly, who didn’t?) and drafted out a whole-ass outline. I’ve never written for this fandom before but I was very quickly sucked into Zukka hell and I might still give it a go if I ever get my drive back.

it’d be a high school AU, and I’d have Zuko as the super closeted, internalized-homophobia-having senior with Mai as his beard, he doesn’t have many friends, is tormented by his extremely popular but vicious in a Heathers way sister, pretends the scar that takes up a little less than half his face is just an unfortunate birthmark and his relationship with his dad is fine, and in general is in denial about everything in his life.

enter certified jock/nerd combo Sokka, who has never worn sleeves in his life, runs track, captain of the mathletes, on the chess club and the slam poetry team, he does it all. the class clown, openly bi and generally just confident in himself. he’s got a super supportive dad, a scary younger sister and some amazing friends, but an underlying layer of tragic backstory involving his mom (something he shares in common with Zuko). the rest of the gaang features and there’s shenanigans abound.

...anyway there’s no way I have the skill or the patience to pull off the 60k+ novel this concept deserves, but maybe I’ll try writing it in little segments if the fancy strikes me again. 

[aspiestvmusings]

RANDOM PERSONAL POST

This is, typical for my text post, very long, and very much “rambling babble”. Also, this is personal, and while I don’t mine comments, the one thing that I do not look for when I post something personal like this is “encouraging” replies. 

So I don’t mind comments to this personal post either, but please... no “it’s ok, it’s ok to be yourself” style replies... (if someone ever thinks of trying to “cheer my mood” with these type of comments... even if you genuinely think so..they’re not useful in my case) not to this personal post...not to any other.

Personal life comment: I had another example at work this week, when a “normal", in their typical way thought that telling me “you’re great at your job” is what they should tell me, when I absolutely hate compliments and encouraging words (it is my job to do the work well, so it makes zero sense to me to get praise for things I'm supposed to do... my mind doesn’t work the way normals & kids minds work). Luckily I also have other co-workers, who are more like me than the typical “normal” (also: in some ways the gender stereotypes often do apply, cause I “get along” better with men, who are more rational and direct, and not so well with women, who are often too emotion-driven & “sweet talkers” for my taste. But that’s just my personal experience with people I’ve worked with)

I actually get super upset when I get work related comments about great work etc... (And I know I can’t tell those “nice” people to not say what they say, cause they’ll get upset, cause they are just trying to be nice... so I’m double-”anxious” - about hearing what they say, and about not being able to ask them please not say that) 

Now to the actual topic, and personal story: 

I am deadly afraid, both in real life, and online (in fandom “discussions”) to say...anything. Because everything I say seems to upset people. So since I cannot make people see my way and what I mean by my words, and explain my different way of thinking and POV, I always end preferring to be silent, because “normals” (human being are so sensitive) and get upset about everything. My way of expressing myself (directly, bluntly, without sugar-coating things, and believing in logic, facts, and thinking human feelings are pointless, because they dont lead anywhere) always hurts people, because “normals” always find a way to get upset about anything that isn’t “sugarcoated”. 

I know I’m not actually attacking anyone or saying anything hurtful, but since I see things differently from most, and for most honesty equals meanness (I love kids, because they haven’t learned to be fake yet, so when asked if they like your new haircut, they say what they mean, they don’t lie and say the positive thing just not to hurt someone’s feelings).  I wish humans/adults were like kids. But somewhere on the way humans learn to lie and never speak their mind...because (other) humans are so fragile, and instead of seeing “I don’t like your new haircut” as the other persons personal opinion, it is seen as rudeness. When it’s not.

We’re all different, we all see the world differently, and like different things, so anyone expecting everyone to like their way, and considering any “non praise” as hurting their feelings, is setting themselves up for getting hurt, and living in a bubble, believing a lie. Instead of seeing “criticism” as just someone elses personal opinion, which doesn’t reflect the truth, just one persons view, a lot of people see it as rudeness and hence people learn to not say anything besides compliments and praise. Which sets people up for even more hurt, when they do encounter one honest person (even if it’s a kid)

I am honest, usually brutally honest, I don’t believe in sugarcoating things, I believe in saying what you think. I do it myself (or wish I could, because when I try to speak the truth... everyone has their feelings hurt, when they shouldn’t, cause there is nothing upsetting about someone elses opinion), and I expect others to do the same. But what I don’t expect is people feeling hurt by the way how someone else expresses themselves. 

But everything I say and do is seen as being mean, hurtful. My “tone” is seen as condescending, I’m perceived as “she thinks shes better than others” etc, when that is not the case at all. But I will never get my POV through to the people who feel this way about how and what I say. Why so many associate things I consider “positive” with “negative”, I don’t understand. I wish it wasn’t so. 

Examples from SCORPION: 

I am completely with Happy, not with Paige & Cabe... when in episode 2x16 her pitch about the airbags was more to my liking. And the fact that in our world sugarcoating, and “fake” pitches sell, because they “don’t hurt anyones feelings” saddens me. Instead of  “low eq people” learning to “lie/sugarcoat to not accidentally hurt someones feelings” I think it should be the other way around - “normals” should learn not to take everything as offensive and not confuse honesty and bluntness with dis-likable, condescending and mean. 

Another great example is the upcoming ep 3x20 and Happy/Paige storyline. Once again Happy expresses herself in her way, and once again Paige gets upset and misinterprets everything (I’m sorry, but scenes like this make me think she’s horrible at her job, because how is she supposed to “translate” the geniuses to normals, when she clearly still doesn’t understand them and what they think and say? Based on scenes like the sneakpeek 2 scene. When she is usually, at most times super amazing, but scenes like this ruin the character for me. She is smart & resourceful & a “quick thinker” & “problem solver”, she’s proven that over & over...in each season... during cases, yet she sees herself as ”less” because of some stupid IQ score... which unlike on this show, in reality, doesn’t matter. But the fact she thinks “cheerleader” means dumb is what I don’t like...why does she think in those kind of incorrect stereotypes, I don’t know. ). 

That condola scene is what I experience daily. Happy is saying their two different people/women, who do things differently, when she says Paige is a “girly girl” (cheerleader, who likes wedding planning and pink and frilly things), and she’s “non-girly girl” (likes black and leather, loves machines, hates wedding planning). But Paige reacts the same way I always see normals react to my words - she takes it as personal attack (on her, on her intelligence, on her skills...) and gets upset. When the way she interprets Happy’s words is not even close to what the bride-to-be was saying. 

All  I hear Happy say is “we’re both women/girls, but we’re different.” (to me this is the same as Paige telling Walt in s2 that Walt & Ralph are both geniuses with IQ around 200, but they are still very different, even with all their similarities... So why she cannot apply the same logic to her & Happy and this situation... confuses me.) But Paige, because of her own inner insecurities hears what she “wants” to hear. (Happy’s saying they’re just different, she’s hearing it as “you’re dumb”... when she should know by know that each team member is skilled in their field, and smarts comes in all forms... the fact that she still doesn’t get that IQ number means very little baffles me) And she’s allowed to get upset, because she is a normal, with EQ, and human feelings are ok. 

(sidenote: low eq people/aspies/neuroatypicals are not allowed to get upset, cause if we do, we are told we’re overreacting, and the same reaction that is considered ok for “normals” in a certain situation  is considered as  not ok for people like me in same/similar situation, so I’m not allowed to "snap” at anyone... just like on this show... the “normals”, Paige, can get away with the same thing the geniuses, Walt, cannot. eg. jealousy, and behaving “childishly”) That is an interesting observation I’ve made over the year, when looking at & analyzing different situations with NTs (normals) & NaTs (neuroatypicals/aspies/geniuses on tv shows) 

I wish Paige and normals didn’t take anything said to them as insulting, and hurtful. Like in the 3x20 scene, where he assumes Happy is saying she’s dumb, when if she’d actually listened to what the mechanic was saying she’d heard that that was not at all what she was saying. It’s just two different ways of thinking, being, and seeing the world. I believe normals would do much better if instead of focusing on HOW something is said, they’d focus more on WHAT is said /the meaning behind the words) PS. Its one of the many things why I hated studying psychology, because the way humans think - tone, word use, mimics, etc matter when socializing/communicating - because I simply cannot understand why anyone can consider something so pointless are important/vital. 

But yes, because of my way of thinking and doing things (in fandom that means: I believe in & promote the research method - everyone interested in spoilers doing their own googling/search... to feel how rewarding and amazing it feels to find the info you’re looking for & not answering questions that have been answered in FAQ/on the site or via googling, easily, nicely, and this is seen as condescending, and me sounding superior.) is different, it’s perceived as mean.  And because normals prefer “darling, please be so kind and look it up yourself” to “I’m not answering this because if you want to know you’ll have to look it up yourself”... which say the same thing, but because people expect “baby-talk” and find blunt/honest replies as insulting, they get hurt by words.... when they shouldn’t.  

Just like I won’t ever understand why people don’t think writing their question into google search is faster & better method than writing it in someone’s ask box (it bothers me greatly, when I see asks like “what is the episode title?” or “wha is the name of the lead actor” in other peoples/fans ask boxes/replies, too. I’s not hard to answer those questions, but I will never understand why people don’t search the answer for themselves. I’m that stupid...that I will never understand why so many don’t (why asking fellow fans is seen as faster & easier & better, when that is completely untrue). 

Anything that can be easily found by a google search or reading the FAQ/info pages is something I consider as things not to ask others. I’m 100% with Ralph, (”you could’ve just googled it”), not Cabe here. I see promoting doing ones own search as great advice, most see it as condescending lecturing & rudeness. I’ll never understand why.

Because I associate not taking time to read up on things, doing research (in fandom speak that means searching for spoilers & sources on your own) as laziness, and yes I put an = sign between lazy & stupid, because in most cases it’s not about the person’s inability (lack of time, motor skills) to do the searching, but simply lack of wanting/interest. And I genuinely believe that if you are not motivated enough and interested enough to look things up on our own, you are actually not interested in knowing these things. This - my belief in the “do your own research” & my choice of words (bluntness instead of politeness) is interpreted as being condescending & rude..

And since I cannot make anyone read “about me” info (reasons why you should not talk to me & ask me questions regarding fandom & spoilers) before asking me things that are either answered on the page (”How do we know they almost or for real get hurt?”, “nothing in the spoilers says they do get hurt/almost hurt”, when the spoiler text on the page literally says “they must save them before they get hurt/plummet to their death” &  the footage added shows “free falling”) or via googling. Because if you do, then I am gonna assume that you are lazy & are asking questions before reading the spoilers added. So since I reply bluntly, it sound condescending to fragile fans. (Tip: you should not ever get upset about HOW someone says something. I wish human beings would not... but humans have feelings and they do, hence I have started thinking of myself more like a robot than human, because these human emotions are "weird”, yet mos humans are all about feelings....) 

So…I have developed a major case of “fear” - I am genuinely afraid  of saying anything I actually mean, and expressing my personal opinion, and view... in the way I see and think... because most people see my way of speaking/writing (replying) as rude. So since I cannot make them see/understand that that is not my intention/what I mean...and not the reaction they should have... cause they simply don’t get honest/blunt talk... I’ve developed (long ago in real life, and lately online) kind of a severe "anxiety” about saying/writing anything at all... because no matter what I say, it always hurts someones feelings (because people take it personally). 

It’s sad & confusing how fake humans are & what kind of bubbles they live in & how fragile they are, because they get emotional about everything. So much of human communication and business & everything else is built up on maintaining an act (being fake, avoiding doing & saying everything that could possibly hurt or trigger the normals, who get upset about tone of voice, lack of eye contact, word choice, bluntness/not sugarcoating things...) and the species has perfected this fakeness & the roles... all because someone somewhere might get upset... when instead of teaching to react to voice tones & word choices... people should train themselves to not react to things based on these things, and react to the message, not the way it is communicated. 

In real life I can avoid all normals and interacting with normals (except in cases, where I absolutely have to -  like family members, co-workers..), but I keep all those interactions minimum. Online, in fandoms, (AKA blogging/posting about my interest - tv shows), I cannot do that...the same way (because while I've done all I can - added info about the kind of “blunt, rude” person I am to my bio, etc...to have the “sensitive normals” stay away so they wouldn’t feel hurt by what I post... I cannot make anyone read the FAQ/info before talking to me) it is not as easy, because here you can’t avoid people the same way like in real life...cause your posts are seen by everyone... 

They say that everyone should feel free to express their personal opinion and views...and say what they think. And at the same time they say that you cannot be mean. But the sad thing is that what I see as simply expressing my own, true thoughts and not rude or condescending or anything, just saying things my way..with no intention of hurting anyones feelings... is considered rudeness by so many. So while I see it simply as disagreement, and having different views & ways of expressing ourselves, I’m deadly afraid to say anything...because of (sounding) “mean”... aka everything I post is perceived as “hurting other fans feelings” 

It takes too much of my energy to “act” (fake) being NT (normal) in everyday, real life, I have no energy to keep up this pretend 24/7, also when I’m talking about my interests (tv - blogging about tv shows), and “lie” 24/7, without ever saying anything truthful...simply because a lot of people are offended by everything... and see everything as “rude”.  

 PS. (to clarify:) This isn’t directed at anyone on tumblr that I interact with... it’s about otehr people in otehr places 

[jenmoboba]

Keeping My White Privilege in Check

Just as a pretext, I am 50% white, and 50% Asian (Chinese and Vietnamese). 

Wise words from a man that owns three houses, and can preach how badly we need our income to be more evenly distributed. I don’t care if someone has a problem with me buying my third jetski while they’re still living in a studio apartment, I rightfully earn the money that I spend, and have the right to spend my money on what I want without worrying that someone feels entitled to the “extra” funds that I have. Yes, Black Lives Matter, I’m talking to you. 

Tolerance.org attempts to illuminate “white privilege” by explaining the invisible privileges that I experience as a white person: 

“White people receive all kinds of perks as a function of their skin privilege.

Consider the following:

When I cut my finger and go to my school or office’s first aid kit, the flesh-colored band-aid generally matches my skin tone. When I stay in a hotel, the complimentary shampoo generally works with the texture of my hair. When I run to the store to buy pantyhose at the last minute, the ‘nude’ color generally appears nude on my legs. When I buy hair care products in a grocery store or drug store, my shampoos and conditioners are in the aisle and section labeled ‘hair care’ and not in a separate section for ‘ethnic products.’ I can purchase travel size bottles of my hair care products at most grocery or drug stores.”

These are very specific and trivial “privileges.” Band-aids are generally a neutral skin color, and they have always been that way. Nobody cares about if their band-aid matches their skin color, hence why stores sell Spongebob ones, Barbie ones, and princess ones. If you consider yourself underprivileged because you can’t find a skin-matching band-aid, then you need to learn what being underprivleged is. The pantyhose that I end up getting are generally darker than my skin tone but to each their own. The fact that hair care and ethnic products are kept separate is because they are designed for different types of hair. I don’t want to accidentally buy a bottle of shampoo designed for naturally curly hair when mine doesn’t require that. I did some research into hotel shampoos, and they are generically formulated, and they do not specify treatment for a particular hair type. 

“Eco-Logical believes simple and natural are the logical choice for today's busy world. As a brand, EcoLogical is looking to provide naturally formulated products that are packaged in earth-friendly materials and have multiple benefits for guests and hotels. Our products have no animal testing, are paraben-free and are crafted with a simple elegant design complimenting a wide range of bathroom environments.”

This is a description of one particular brand of hotel amenity suppliers, for their Eco-logical line of shampoo. 

This was an extra credit assignment for some students in college, and quite frankly, it is frustrating. 

1. Anyone who has family members or friends of their own race can always manage to be in their company. This question is really asking, do your friends and family of your race spend time with you? That’s not a race question, it’s more of an, are you too busy? Which is a personal question. 

2. Anyone can go shopping without being followed or harassed, and on that same note, harassment or being followed could happen to anybody. If you are suspected of stealing, it’s either because you stole, or you’re behaving suspiciously which is the fault of the individual, not their race. 

3. The television shows that we watch are different for each individual. If you watch Telemundo, you’ll find Hispanics. If you turn on a Chinese channel you will find Chinese people. If you watch a predominantly white channel, you will probably find white people. The same goes for the paper, if you are subscribed to a newspaper that caters to your racial demographics, then you will find people of your race on it. This question is designed to target “white” newspapers and television shows, but if your requirements for a paper/channel are racially centered, then you should subscribe to ones that require those. Instead of complaining about a lack of representation, find a source of representation, or better yet, create your own. 

4. The area that I live in is the United States, which was created by white men and women after getting off of the Mayflower. Not every race contributed to the creation of America, because they were busy creating their own cultures in their respective countries; i.e. the Chinese created China, the Vietnamese created Vietnam, etc... Just because your race didn’t create America at its beginning doesn’t mean that you aren’t valued as an individual. I visited France a few years ago, should I pout about the fact that my people didn’t create it? 

5. Schools should not be required to hand out materials that pertain to every single country, they need to learn about what is relevant. Children are going to learn about their race and culture through their parents, learning about their genealogical history, and celebrating their respective holidays. I am going to homeschool my children, but if I wasn’t, I’m not going to remove my child simply because they didn’t learn about 12.5 percent linkage to Vietnam. I trust that my children are going to learn what is sufficient to get them a high school or college degree, they are not required to learn about irrelevant curricular materials. 

6. I can go into a music shop and find artists from my country because I know their names. It’s not hard to google artists from a specific country. All races are represented in music, and if you can’t find one from yours, then try Amazon. I don’t understand why people feel so entitled to these things that they call me privileged because I can listen to the Dropkick Murphys in store? Try Spotify. If you go into a supermarket and can’t find the food that you grew up with, well where did you grow up? Also, when? Grocery stores shouldn’t be required to have specialty items from foreign countries, they will stock up on popular items and those that their customers need, not one specific item because one person wanted it. I grew up with peanut butter Lindt truffles, and they are now a discontinued item, should I protest my local grocery store for not selling them? And when it comes to a hair salon, stylists should undergo a holistic curriculum that teaches them to manage all hair types. If they cannot style your hair the way you want it, it’s not a testament to racism, it’s a testament to an insufficient curriculum. Find a store that accommodates to your hairstyle and uses appropriate products instead of lighting their salon chairs on fire for not knowing how to do an upward lace braid with holographic follicles. Just for the record, my straight white male Navy veteran fiance goes to get his hair cut; using military-style regulations, and he has a fairly simple and easy order, but most salons still manage to get it wrong. Does that not fit your white privilege narrative? I didn’t think so. 

7. When I spend my money, I am responsible for it. Not my race. If my card is declined, it’s not because I’m a fish out of the water and forgot to read up on Crazy Rich Asians, it’s because I was hypothetically financially irresponsible. If people think that the way you spend money has an effect on your race, that is racist in and of itself. “White privilege” is me being broke on my own, and not at the fault of the typical white person. 

8. Your shape, bearing, or body odor are not attributed to your race. They are unique to each individual. If you have a bigger shape, it’s because you overeat, or have other medically-related weight problems. There’s no such thing as being born big-boned, so try again. Bearing is a trait that is subjective to each individual. Some people are raised to have a stern expression, the military teaches you bearing (in addition to a lot of other traits), and it’s something you possess (or don’t) over a period of time. It has nothing to do with race. And body odor, if you have body odor radiating from you like animated green stink flames floating above a trash can, then that is a hygiene problem. Use deodorant like every other person. If I smell the odor and I point it out, that’s not racist, it’s a warning for you to take care of yourself and to be mindful of your surroundings. 

9. If I worry about racism or talk about racism, I am referred to as crazy. I am a part of the “model minority,” so I have to worry about the Black Lives Matter movement and support them because I have been a part of the yellow peril. That’s not how it works. 

10. Other people say that because I’m white that I need to check my privilege and see where it got me, like school. I didn’t get accepted into college because I was white or Asian. I did well in high school, I had a job, I had a good recommendation from my favorite teacher, I used my newly acquired writing skills to write a stellar admissions essay. I didn’t do that well on SATs, shocker because I’m Asian, right? I had good credentials and sold myself well to college, which is why I got in. The White Privilege myth has gotten me nowhere, which has proven its mythological qualities to me. If you’re black and dumb and don’t get accepted to college, instead of crying institutional racism, how about enrolling in a supplementary community college class to improve your chances of getting in with extra credits? Princeton University sympathizes with the non-white and nonprivileged folk, giving black applicants a 230 point boost on their SATs, Hispanic students are given 150 extra, and best of all, Asians have 50 points deducted from their score. Where’s the white privilege? Not here. Harvard held its first black only commencement ceremony in 2017, isn’t that segregation? No, because it’s not perpetrated by the white man? That is racist. So congratulations Harvard, the goddess of truth would be disappointed in you too. 

11. This question essentially stereotypes the author’s race as being late. If you associate being late with a race, then that is racist. Maybe just show up to work on time? Being on time is a prerogative that each person takes as an individual, it’s not a part of any race. 

12. I can go to the store in peace because I know that stores are allowed to let in whoever they want, and kick out whoever they want, as long as it isn’t discriminatory. I go into stores to run my errands and get what I need, not to complain to the manager about their white privilege needing to be checked. If you make yourself out to be a victim, that’s not the white man’s fault. 

13. I am not asked to speak for my entire race, but often I have to because no one else will, for fear of harassment like these tests. I shared a video of two black women mocking Vietnamese nail salon stylists, and I was called racist because I neglected to mention racism against black people. What white privilege do you speak of? Black people can harass and berate white people all they want because they consider themselves an oppressed minority, and they feel entitled to their anger, rage, and disappointment. White people can’t even mention race without being called racist, bigoted, ableist, sexist, misogynistic, and other terms. Even though the dictionary definition of racism is, “prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against someone of a different race based on the belief that one's own race is superior.” Isn’t talking down to white people, an application of racism? Isn’t mocking Asian women an example of racism? 

14. Companies hire people based on their credentials, experience, and history with relative businesses and associations. If you expect every “person in charge,” to be of your race, that is insane. We shouldn’t have to hire people because of identity politics, that’s discriminatory, unorthodox, and inappropriate. People often lament about the lack of female representation in businesses, I wonder why that is? Maybe it’s because women that apply to these positions don’t meet the qualifications. It’s not sexism if women aren’t selected for a position, nor is it racist if the person-in-charge isn’t of your color. I expect a professional to address my concerns regardless of their race. And how would you know? Do you ask each manager or supervisor what their race is before speaking to them? If you only talk to a manager if they share your genealogical make-up, then you are the racist.

15. Traffic cops pull you over because of traffic issues. If you are black and pulled over, and you resist because it’s a white cop, then you have no business talking to me about being pulled over. Law enforcement officers enforce the law, so if you resist arrest or don’t address the concern, which could be, your tail light is out, then you are racist. If a cop pulled me over, I would listen to his concerns, obey his orders, and be on my way with a ticket, warning, or explain the situation so that he understands. Cops do not discriminate, sure there are a few bad apples out there, but a majority of cops are just trying to do their job. And if the IRS has concerns about my returns, then I’ll address them as an individual. It’s not a testament to my race, or else everybody that’s Chinese, Vietnamese, or Irish would be experiencing the same situation. 

16. I don’t buy those items to look like me. I buy them because I want them. I shouldn’t need to buy an item because it resembles what I look like. If a store doesn’t have what I’m looking for, then I look online or elsewhere. A store sells what they have left, so if they sold the last Asian greeting card, or finger puzzle before I got there I’m not going to cry racism. Why? Because businesses do what they need to do to earn money each month. 

17. I choose band-aids based on their qualities and characteristics as a band-aid: if it fits the wound I need to cover, if it provides soft padding, if it has anti-bacterial lotion/fluid on the padding, and if the adhesive lasts more than five minutes. The last thing on my mind when purchasing band-aids is if the outer layer matches my skin color, I often buy the novelty kind. I don’t care if a band-aid is purple, black, pink, yellow, or rainbow, I just want one that works. If you shop for band-aids based on your skin color, then you should reevaluate how you purchase band-aids instead of calling me “privileged” because Nexcare has a band-aid that matches my skin tone. There’s always the option of buying transparent or clear-colored band-aids. 

18. Everything I do is traced back to my Chinese and Vietnamese roots. My Marine Corps recruiter was talking to another girl that needed help on the ASVAB, and she was like, “We have Jenn, an Asian who’s good at math, she can help you.” Any accomplishment I have is attributed to my genes. People think that my genealogical roots got me a high school diploma when it was the countless hours of studying, time spent with my teachers, paying attention, SAT prep school, and my dedication and drive to learn that earned me the success I experience now. I did well and got into college because I put in the work. There is no white privilege, it’s called going out and earning a living, to ultimately fulfill the American dream. 

19. Approximately two percent of students are Asian, so odds are I’m the only Asian. Last semester I was the only Asian student in three of my four classes. Sure, a majority of students are white, but that’s an accurate reflection of the national population distribution. Approximately 72 percent of America is white, so the classrooms should reflect that number. It’s not a racist or white privilege that classrooms have disproportionate numbers of white, black, Hispanic, and Asian students. 

20. Again, professors and all other people should be hired based on their education, experience in the field, certifications, licensures, and other projects that are relevant to the field that they want to teach. I don’t care if a professor is Asian, I care if they know what they are going to teach me. I am paying their salary regardless of their race, so that doesn’t matter. What does matter, is if they possess the skills and qualifications to teach me what I need to know in order to pass this class and graduate. 

This checklist for white privilege shows me that it’s not privilege that they care about, it’s more about highlighting the victim mentality that most people have, and the mundane things that they have to complain about. 

If I said, “I got into college,” that doesn’t mean anything. They would say, “Congratulations on your white/asian privilege, and for booting me out of a chance at being admitted because I’m an oppressed black person.”

This person worked diligently and arduously to earn a chance at being admitted to Yale, and someone had the nerve to undermine their hard work and success for “white privilege?” Atrocious. 

Creative Etsy folks have crafted this card whenever a white person feels the need to oppress people with their invisible knapsack of privileges. Absolutely absurd, and available on Etsy. 

These are all things that other should not have to apply for. If you were born in the United States, odds are you learn English as your first language. Having a criminal record is indicative that you don’t know how to follow laws, that doesn’t make you any less privileged as a person. All of these other spaces are frivolous and don’t contribute to white privilege at all. 

“My privilege is showing? More like, “Your victim mentality and entitled attitude is showing.”

I don’t have any “social power,” because of any of these things. I know this is from Canada, but the principle still stands. I don’t experience any privileges in life because I am able-bodied. I have depression and anxiety, but that doesn’t make me any less-privileged than anyone else. I have access to education...like every person does. The degree varies, but everyone readily has access to an education. The question is, are you willing to go the extra mile to get it? I am not Christian, but I believe that everyone needs to have a sound moral foundation and to be taught to know the differences between right and wrong. No one is privileged for being religious, I would point you to the Holocaust, the religious persecution of 6 million Jewish people. There are no cis-gender privileges. If you have gender-dysphoria and think that you’re underprivileged for it, then that is your own problem. There are no heterosexual privileges, believe me. There are none. If you are gay, or lesbian, no one is stopping you from going out and loving someone except yourself. If you let other people bully you into thinking that it’s unacceptable, that doesn’t make your love any less strong or prominent. If someone disapproves of my relationship that doesn’t make me any more or less privileged. 

So please, instead of telling someone that their privilege is showing, ask yourself, “Am I portraying a victim mentality?”