#THIS is how you get your cause labeled a hate organization. because instead of focusing on the good youre trying to inact

[noxiatoxia]

Can we fucking stop this. I thought we went over this during the Russia/Ukraine shit that civilians are not their government? I'm sorry, but in no world is wishing for the death of random people who just happen to also be israeli/living in israel going to aid your cause. On a humane level it is appaling, on a logical level you are turning people away from the cause you claim to support because nobody in their right mind wants to agree with someone advocating the deaths of innocent people because their government sucks. (Remember all those teens in Israel who got sent to jail because they refused to join the IDF? They should die too, huh? Or are they "one of the good ones"? be fucking real.)

In general, the amount of rising antisemitism worries me. The pro-palestine movement should first and foremost be about HELPING Palestinians and bolstering their voices and helping to end the needless murder of their people. It should NOT be about "owning le zionists" or whatever. That isn't the point. You are wasting your breath to spew hate towards a group of people that, frankly, I feel 80% of people haven't even done research in and are just following the herd. You could be using that time and energy to HELPING the people who are literally fucking dying. You are choosing to "dunk on the haters" rather than help people DYING. And logistically speaking, if you really care about Palestine, don't you want as MANY people on your side as possible? So more people can be vocal, more people can donate? So why potentially scare people away with these claims of "kill all zionists" or whatever. You do realize people looking in from the outside who see this will be turned AWAY from the cause because they're gonna associate it with people calling for the murder of others, right?

Before I get "so you hate waffles"'d let me make it exceedingly clear for anybody lacking reading comprehension: I support Palestine. If I didn't, I wouldn't make this post. BECAUSE I support ending this needless death, I want people to STOP ENDORSING DEATH TO THE "OTHER SIDE". It accomplishes nothing, scares people off from lending support, and at the end of the day no matter what you claim wishing people you percieve as evil to die never enacts any real change. You are just feeding your base desire for violence. Feeling angry is normal. Having opinions/voicing dislike or doubt of a groups' principles is healthy. Actively typing out a post about wanting xyz to go die is not.

I think this is why antisemitism is spiraling out of control lately. Because we are so lax on speaking awfully on concepts that are (for good or bad depending who you ask) tied heavily to Judaism. Listen: I don't care if you hate zionists or israelis or whatever. I'm not here to police your thoughts or opinions or feelings. But can you please just keep it to yourself and focus on actually HELPING Palestinian people? That's all I ask. Please.

[loveofafangirl]

72 Hours

[Baron Zemo Masterlist] [Marvel Masterlist]

Pairing: Baron Zemo x Reader/You (no gender, race or body type described)

Synopsis: You are tasked with watching Zemo for the weekend while he assists you in providing tech support and intel to your teammates in the field.  *Sort of: Enemies to Lovers* *One-Shot: Not same “reader” as my other stories.

Word Count: 2.2K (sorry this is longer than I intended)

A/N: This is a request for @purebloodwitch, where y/n is part of the Avengers and used to taking care of everyone, but at Zemo’s safe house he starts taking care of her and she is uncomfortable at first. I hope this fits what you are looking for. I hope you enjoy it. 

3 days.

72 hours.

That's how long you had to suffer his company. You stare out the window, taking in the country view. The car was taking the two of you to one of his safe houses. You had wanted to go on the mission with the rest of your team, but you were the most organized and could most easily relay intel to different groups as you uncovered it. Plus, it had been decided you were the least likely to bring physical harm to him. Though, you weren't so sure at the moment.

You had been against Bucky's plan to release Zemo. You remembered the bombing at the U.N. and the fallout that began that day. You blame him for the Snap and the loss of so many of your colleagues. If he hadn't turned the Avengers against one another, maybe Thanos never would have collected all six Infinity Stones. Maybe no one would have vanished, tearing the world apart—twice: once when they disappeared and again when they returned. As far as you were concerned, Zemo was the catalyst that led to Thanos, the need for the GRC, and the rise of the Flagsmashers. Everything began that day at the U.N. 

You look at your watch:

71 hours and 26 minutes.

When you arrive at his safe house, he insists you let him hold the door for you. You had always stood on your own, caring for those around you. You weren't used to gestures such as these, nor did you want them, least of all from him. 

Your fists clench when he refuses to go in first. Reluctantly, you proceed, allowing him to hold each door for you.

"Would you like a tour?" He gestures grandly around the lavish apartment.

"No," you state coldly, ignoring his coy smile that seemed to dip slightly at your tone. "Just tell me where to set up."

"Perhaps by the windows," he suggested. "The panels are one way. You can see out, but no one can see in. It should give us a good vantage point to keep watch without being noticed." 

You begin moving the bags of equipment you brought.

"Allow me." Without waiting, he takes the bags from you and carries them to the area he had previously pointed out. 

You follow wordlessly.

"There you go."

You nod your gratitude, unable to bring yourself to say thank you to him.

"Is there anything else?"

"No. When I'm done setting up, you'll need to tell me everything you know about Project Typhon and get me the decrypted files you insisted that only you could access."

"Of course, I am at your service."

You keep an eye on him while working. You still couldn't believe you got stuck babysitting. Now your focus was split between the work and making sure he didn't get into any trouble. 

He moves about the kitchen, grabbing this and that. He returns with a tray in his hands containing a teapot, two cups and saucers, small sandwiches, and a tin of cookies. "I had the pantry stocked before our arrival."

You give him a curious expression.

"I did not want you believing they had been sitting for the years." 

"I'm good."

He pours two cups of tea, offering one to you. "You haven't eaten since early morning. Please, help yourself."

You breathe deeply, trying not to give in. You had packed some rations, but you hadn't eaten any yet. You hate how appealing everything looked. You begin reaching for it, but pull back, now convincing yourself it could be poisoned. You turn your attention back to your work after a quick glance at your watch. 

65 hours. 

The evening passes slowly. You juggle your Zemo-sitting duty with decoding his cryptic replies into useable intel to relay to the two teams you were monitoring while also keeping an eye out for any digital chatter that may hinder your mission.

"Why me?" You sigh to yourself, thinking back to how you had asked Sam that same question when he first told you this was your assignment.

"You're good with people, Y/N."

"So you're sticking me with him?" You pointed an accusatory finger over your shoulder to Zemo.

His head shifted to the side, "No offense taken. I understand the difficulties. If you allow me a moment to explain."

"You understand nothing," you chided. Your gaze narrowed to a glower. 

"Easy, Y/N," Bucky interjected. 

"You of all people—" Your head shook in disbelief. "I was there. I saw what he did."

"We need him. He's the lesser of two evils right now."

You crossed your arms, not sure that was true. 

Your thoughts drift back to the present. You check the time again:

63 hours.

Zemo lounges beside you, nursing a drink in his hand. "I surmised you would decline a drink like my own, so I brought you a coffee instead. I noticed you had a few over the past days." He gestures to the warm mug on the table beside you. 

The rich aroma captivated you as you breathe in its bold notes. You really needed it. Begrudgingly, you took your first sip. It is better than you expected. A hum of delight slips from your lips. 

Noting his growing smirk, you muster the strength, uttering, "Thank you." You surprise yourself at the sound of your tone. It was much more cordial than you had intended it to be. 

"It was my pleasure, Y/N."

The two of you remain in silence, except for the occasional exchange needed for the mission. You were so focused on the job you hadn't even noticed him refill your coffee cup until you picked it up, expecting to savor the last drops but found a full cup met you instead. 

He kept working, seemingly not looking for any credit. You didn't offer any, but you had to bite your lips back to stop a smile threatening to erupt. 

57 hours. 

You rub your eyes and stretch your arms. "I'm going to try to get some sleep. Don't even think about trying anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He stood as you made your departure. "Gute Nacht. Sleep well."

You walk away without looking back. You knew there were agents strategically placed along the perimeter so he wouldn't get far, but you still worried.

Warm sunlight streams in the window of the large bedroom, gently caressing your face. The mattress is so soft and amazing; it sucked you into its depths immediately, and you fell quickly. You nuzzle in the soft fabric of the bedding, not wanting to move. It was your best sleep in months, even though it was only for a few hours. You think to yourself that you could get used to this.

Your body tenses at the thought as you remember where you are. You jump out of bed and quickly get dressed. Your team is counting on you. You swipe your phone checking the time.

52 hours.

You head straight to your setup; your fingers float nimbly across the keyboard as you attempt to focus solely on your work. Your stomach growls, pulling your focus. The scent of bacon frying greets you. You turn toward the kitchen, and for the first time, notice Zemo.

He catches your eye. "Would you like to join me for breakfast? I've set the two places." Sensing your hesitation. "I can bring it for you as well."

You glance at your phone. No new communications from the team. No alerts from any of the traces you had set up. Nothing to keep you there. Before you know it, you're walking in his direction.

He moves around the counter, pulling out one of the high bar chairs for you. 

You sit, even allowing him to push it in for you, a warmth spreading over you. 

"Please." He gestures to the plate in front of you and takes the seat opposite you. "Enjoy." 

You nibble on a piece of bacon and let the taste linger on your tongue. It was just the way you liked it. He sips his black coffee, watching you enjoy the first bites. You cover your mouth, feeling self-conscious suddenly. You shake your head, trying to brush away the feeling as you question why you care what he thinks. 

Your phone lights up, but it's nothing important. You glance at the time 7:11. You try to remember why you cared. Your attention shifts once more to the man across from you; that was why. 

51 hours. 

The two of you go about the day. Zemo is more useful than you expected. He quickly decodes and unscrambles messages and relays them to the team. Like you, he thrives on analytics and strategic thinking. There were moments where you actually enjoyed the conversation that developed. 

A few times, your fingers brush against his while reaching for the same thing. He always offered his apologies with that smile that made you forget what he'd done that day.

Before you know it, he's bringing you dinner.

"Is it really that late already?" You question, glancing at the time. You accept the plate. "Thank you." 

You enjoy a pleasant evening together, sharing the meal he prepared for you. He was a great cook to your surprise. This was better than anything you had eaten at the Avengers compound lately. 

As the night lingers and you wait for your team to send you new intel, he tells you stories about Sokovia. Once, he mentions his son before pausing and quickly changing the topic. 

In your rush to label him as a terrorist because of that fateful day, you never listened to his reasonings. They didn't excuse his actions, but he wasn't the cold-hearted killer you had expected based on his military profile. He was just a man who lost his entire world. 

When you part for the evening, you gaze back, lifting your hand. "Good night, Zemo."

The next morning, you wake softly, breathing in the comfort of the bed. You reach for your phone; his file is still open from where you fell asleep reading it. You wanted to understand him. There was so much more than you gave him credit for. 

You realize you were wrong. He wasn't the cause of everything that happened. You were. Everything began not the day at the U.N., but that day in Sokovia, with Ultron, and with the Avengers. They had created Zemo; he was merely a product of their haste. They were the catalyst to their own undoing. He had just shone a light on it. 

You lie back thinking over the past two days—the conversations that you'd shared, the kindness he had insisted upon, even when you tried to care for yourself, and those small touches that elicited a feeling you couldn't understand. 

Your last day together followed much of the same patterns: sharing meals, breaking down and relaying intel, keeping watch.

You notice how at ease you are. Your body is calm with no tensions or worries. You hadn't checked the time since—well, you weren't really sure. A look of horror flashes on your face as you realize you were enjoying this—enjoying him. 

"What did I miss?" He questions, strolling in from his bath, still in his robe.

Your body flushes, and your eyes cascade over his form. Realizing what you had done, you turn away and clear your throat. "Can you please put some clothes on?" 

He shrugs and walks off. As soon as he turns away, you find yourself chewing your cheek as you watch him leave. "Snap out of it! The only thing that matters is the job," you scold yourself. 

For the rest of the day, you keep your distance, averting your gaze, and avoiding him as much as possible. When he wishes you good night, you don't reply, hurrying off as quickly as possible.

You hope to find reprieve in the quiet of your room in the comfort of the softest mattress you had ever known. However, you toss and turn all night, your mind restless with growing thoughts of him.

You skip breakfast, or so you had planned. When you didn't come out, he left it outside your door.

You pack up in silence, catching glimpses of his curious look. You know he is probably wondering what changed, but he doesn't pressure you.

As you leave, you take one glance back at the beautiful apartment.

He waits at the door, holding it open for you.

This time, you don't protest and even offer your thanks. A smile fills your face as he opens the car door too. 

Your eyes close, remembering all the good moments from the past 72 hours. Without thinking, you turn into him, brushing a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you." 

Your gaze lingers on his soft brown eyes longer than you intend. You feel trapped, unable to break away, but you don't want to either. You lick your lips, wanting more, but worrying what it would mean. You decide to go for it, but as you move to him, he's already there, meeting you halfway until he pulls you entirely into his embrace. His lips are warm and inviting. You feel the world around you melt away under his tenderness.

Your heart flutters when you finally pull away. "That's a one-time thing."

His head tilts to the side, considering your words, and then nods in agreement.

You get in the car, your gaze still focused on him, a devilish smirk forming on your lips. "Unless I decide it's not." 

Marvel Perma(til the end of the line): @the-soot-sprite​​​; @fandomxreaders ;  @moonstuffsteve​

Zemo tags: @montypythonsholysnail​​​ ; @killsandthrills​​​ ; @noavengers​​​ ; ​@nalabarnes1031 ; @trelaney​ ; @willowtheewisp​ ; @marchingicenotes7 ; @valquiria3000​

[peachywrite]

Unpleasant Pleasantries

Rohan Kishibe x JosukeSister!Reader

Trigger Warning: inappropriate stand use, mild suggestive themes

Rohan thought this to be the perfect opportunity to get back at that imbecile with the hair of a 60’s delinquent, but instead found something more fulfilling than revenge.

It was your first time meeting the famous mangaka, but Koichi insisted that you introduce yourself to the newly found stand user as a formality.

~

“It’s better to make friends than enemies, y/n! So please do this for me.” He begged, clasping his hands tightly together as he bowed.

“Koichi-chan, he ripped out pages from your face and tried to do the same to Okuyasu and Josuke. I don’t know if I trust this guy.” You sighed, nervous and even a little scared.

“It’ll be fine, when you tell him you’re related to Josuke, he won’t even think about trying anything!” Koichi’s eyes glistened, still silently begging you to go.

“Fine, but if I don’t show up back home in an hour, call Josuke please.” Koichi nodded enthusiastically, shouting thank yous while he ran off to find your brother.

~

Thanks to the written address Koichi had given you, it was easy to find the large Victorian mansion that belonged to the isolated artist.

“Come on, y/n. You can do this. Just a quick hello and you’re done.” You tried to psych yourself up, taking one last deep breath before approaching the walkway that led up to the door.

Knock Knock

You waited, your heart rate a bit too quick for your liking.

You could hear the steps on the other side slowly approaching and suddenly stopping, only to find the door creak by.

“Now who would be disrupting the Great Rohan Kishibe?” The man spoke in a sinister tone, swinging the door open.

Rohan Kishibe looked nothing like how you expected him to. He was built slim but still toned, his green hair neatly styled and face slim and sharp with a cute dolphin bandage placed on the bridge of his nose. His green eyes stared at you intently, as if he was trying to analyze your face as well.

“I-I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. My friend Koichi wanted me to introduce myself. I’m Y/N Higashikata. I’m a stand user and I go to school with the rest of the boys.” You stammer out, guilt hitting you for interrupting the presumably busy manga artist.

The man eyed you with a devilish smirk, clapping his hands together like he had discovered something amusing.

“You’re Josuke’s little sister! Oh how fun! You know, you’re too cute to be related to that boy. Now please come in, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk.”

“I’m actually the same age as him, and I’d love to join you but I got... study plans with K-Koichi!” You tried to avoid his stare but as he made eye contact, you knew you had lost.

“Nonsense! I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ll be studying with me, now please come in already.” His smile grew while he pulled you into his abode by your wrists.

The house was lightly decorated with manga related memorabilia on the wood carved shelves and many original panels from famous mangas hung framed on the soft toned walls, but the home still held a grand Victorian feeling to it.

Your original unease disappeared as you took in the grandeur of the mansion and the interesting items that adorned it so carefully. Rohan smirked at the curiosity in your eyes and the quick movements they made while you focused on specific areas of his home.

“Would you like a personal tour of the property before we study? I will warn you though, not all the rooms have been styled by yours truly yet. It’s a work in progress at the moment.” The smile he bared had you suspicious again, but you didn’t want to be rude to the owner of such a magnificent estate.

“As much as I would love to, your home is absolutely stunning, I sadly only have an hour to study. My mom would kill me if I got home late again.” A hefty sigh escaped your lips and you gave him your best upset expression you could muster.

You hoped he wouldn’t key in on your lying, remembering the warning Koichi had given you about his ability to discern genuine emotions from fake ones.

The mangaka squinted his eyes for a moment, causing your heartbeat to speed up substantially, but his face returned to its usual smile that you swore held a bit of deviousness underneath.

“Oh! it’s alright, dear. I understand. I’ll save it for your next visit. Let’s get to your work now, follow me to the kitchen. I’ll prepare us something and you can take a seat by the window.” He gently took your hand, guiding you to the kitchen and carefully pulling out a seat for you at his dining room table.

A beautiful bouquet set in a hand sculpted vase caught your interest on the table as Rohan busied himself with brewing a fresh pot of tea. The flowers were bright in color compared to the muted ones of the vase, but the contrast made both appear unique and appealing to the eye.

“I see you even appreciate the smaller details of a home. Though I am a mangaka, I do dabble in other forms of artistic expression. Take pottery for example, I glazed this vase in a muted color pallet so it could stand out on its own when beautifully bright flowers were placed in it. The two compliment each other nicely, don’t they?” He set down two tea cups and began to pour.

“Yes! And I especially love the bright purples in the lillies you picked here.” You gently touched a petal, Rohan now lightly tapping his cheek, pulling out a chair for himself to sit right beside you.

His closeness and unwavering gaze brought a heaviness to your chest, making you stumble over your words.

“Um-m thank you for treating me so well and letting me study in your home, Rohan-sensei.” You began to unpack your notes and textbook, Rohan scooting closer to analyze what you had written.

“No need to thank me, my dear. Now let’s get to your studies. What is it you need to work on today?” The smile he shares with you is comforting, but you can’t help but feel like he was plotting something.

You set your pencil bag down and prepare your notebook, trying to make yourself busy by setting up.

“Biology. I’ve only just recently started going to school in person, but I tested well enough to be placed in the highest class. Today we’re supposed to label all the organs in this frog drawing.” Your tone comes off as annoyed and Rohan picks up on it, tilting his head to the side while he reads your frog diagram.

“You aren’t a fan of biology? I’ve got a few anatomy sketches of animals you could use instead of this photocopied worksheet. Maybe that will help peak your interest?” He stands and saunters out to find his sketches, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

When Rohan returns, the two of you work on your Biology homework for about an hour, finishing the entire pot of tea in the process. You found out that Rohan was quite skilled at anatomy, having an entire sketchbook dedicated to the anatomy of many living things, including the likes of frogs and flowers. He was extremely helpful and fun to talk with.

As you packed up your bag, Rohan remained seated in his chair, playing with one of the lilies from the bouquet. You weren’t sure if you should head towards the door and leave Rohan or wait for him to stand and lead you out. You were about to speak when the mangaka interrupted with a swish of his pen in your direction.

“Heaven’s Door.”

You felt a sharp shove of air to your midsection, sending you onto the floor. Every movement you attempted was futile as the grinning artist looked down at you. A deep chuckle haunted you while he leaned in closer to your face. His hands gently caressed your cheek, opening it up like a book.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re interesting and I’d love to learn more about you, but I’m impatient. It’ll be far easier for me to just read you. Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll make sure you don’t remember this.” He flipped through your pages, ignoring the tears that ran down onto the very paper he was trying to read.

“Now let’s just read the juicy bits today. You were hospitalized along with your brother when you were only four, a strange parasite made up of Dio’s cells attacked your immune system at age twelve and had you bedridden until fairly recently.” The curiosity he held for your story excited him, the pen he held in one hand quickly wrote onto the notepad he placed on the floor beside your head.

You felt like sinking into yourself, ignoring his quips and teases as the embarrassment of the mangaka reading your thoughts and feelings enveloped you. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be this way? He was so kind before and just like a flick of a switch, he changed.

“Oh, now how did you escape that? Here we are, thanks to Mr.Joestar’s Hamon lessons, you not only came back from your illness, but gained a proper stand and the ability to wield Hamon just like your father and great grandfather! Wait, what’s this new paragraph about?” He squinted closely, reading your page out loud again.

“I have to visit Rohan Kishibe today because Koichi told me to. He practically begged. Even though I’m scared, Koichi gave me his word that nothing bad would happen. Rohan Kishibe looks very different from what I imagined a mangaka to look. Well, what did you expect me to look like?” His smirk grows as he continues on.

“Ah, another new bit is here! Rohan Kishibe is very good at anatomy, he’s been kind and helpful, I’d like to get to know him better. I think Josuke was just overreacting when he called Rohan Kishibe pure evil. I could see us being friends.”

His smile disappears skimming the next sentence, his usual tone of voice changed as he starts to read. He sounded upset, hurt even.

You were the one being wronged here! Why would he get upset? He doesn’t have the right.

“Josuke was right. Rohan Kishibe is not nice, he is terribly mean. He’s using me for his entertainment. He doesn’t care. Rohan Kishibe is not kind, he is not helpful, he is cruel, I don’t want to get to know him. I want to forget him.”

“I hate Rohan Kishibe. I hope to never see him again.”

Rohan paused, looking away from your pages, trying to focus on anything else for the moment.

“W-well, I’ll just fix this last paragraph and erase it from your mind. You’re being dramatic, I’m not as terrible as you describe me.” Chuckling to himself, he tries to laugh off his obvious pain and attempts to regain his composure.

“No! I won’t let you erase my emotions!” You shouted, a wave of Hamon spreading through his arm as his pen touched your page, his attempt to rewrite your memory foiled.

The mangaka was sent flying back, his right arm dropping the pen and your face finally shutting closed, returning your ability to move. Although you were upset at the betrayal of trust you gave the man, you felt a twinge of guilt in your heart when you spotted his still form draped across the wood floor, cradling the arm you had burned with your Hamon.

Running to his side, all thoughts of malice left your body while you attempted to get a better look at his injury. His arm was still intact thankfully, but it was badly burned and needed to be set correctly and quickly if he ever wanted it to heal properly. You took a deep breath and turned Rohan over to see if he was still conscious.

“Oh god, Rohan I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Your eyes fill with tears again as you see the artist weakly rest himself against the wall, still holding his arm close to his chest.

“No, no it’s alright. I brought this on myself. I accept that.” He grimaced, trying to take a peek at his injuries but too frightened to actually check.

“You read my thoughts and history, it wasn’t right but you didn’t physically hurt me. I don’t know how that happened, but I promise you I’ll fix it.” You swore to the manga writer, now searching through your backpack.

When you found your pair of scissors, you went into full first aid mode, removing the sleeve from his right arm by carefully cutting the loose cloth off. After tossing the short sleeve to the side, you cut the bottom of the skirt you were wearing off into a long bandage-like shape of clothing and ran it under the cold tap water from the kitchen sink, returning to the injured Rohan.

“I’m going to wrap your arm with this, it won’t be painful if you let me use my stand, but I’m going to ask you first before I use her on you.” The man nodded, accepting your offer to erase the pain.

“Under Pressure. She’s a stand that has the ability to manipulate emotions. She can change them within a radius or focus on only one individual. When she focuses on a single person, she is only able to change their emotion to the opposite of what is being felt.” You began to wrap his arm, nervous about what he might feel when you placed the wet fabric loosely around it.

All Rohan could do was bite back his lip to avoid making any embarrassing sounds. Instead of the immeasurable pain he imagined to come with dressing a freshly burned wound, he felt a wave of euphoria. He now understood what you meant by the “opposite” emotion would be felt.

The artist never knew wrapping his burned arm would feel so good, every touch caused his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to water. It confused him, even though he understood that the opposite of pain was pleasure, it still startled him every time you did one more pass of the homemade bandage.

He tried his hardest not to be flustered, but when you finished off his arm by tieing the last bit with a knot, he let a small whimper escape his lips. His hand shot up to cover his face, it’s hue now a bright crimson.

Your cheeks turned bright pink as well. You turned away swiftly, to avoid eye contact.

“U-Um just stay put. I’m gonna borrow your phone for a second and let you catch your breath.” Scratching the side of your cheek, you stand up and make a b-line for the phone, dialing your home and hoping that Josuke would pick up. You glanced at the clock set on the wall, it read 8:15.

I’m late.

As soon as the phone line rang once, you spotted the front door to Rohan’s manor fly across the main hall. Peeking your head out from the kitchen, you see a furious Josuke with Koichi in pursuit.

“ROHAN-SENSEI! WHERE IS MY SISTER YOU CREEP?! SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME 15 MINUTES AGO!” He yells out, his voice echoing throughout the home.

“Josuke! I’m here! I was just about to call you. Listen, I messed up bad and hurt Rohan. He’s in the kitchen bandaged up but I need you to heal him all the way.” You run to Josuke, giving him a tight hug while trying not to cry from the stress of the situation.

Josuke squeezes you once and let’s you go, looking you over from head to toe so he could make sure you weren’t injured as well. When he spots your torn skirt, his aura radiates a dark malice you’d never seen him show before.

“Wait Josuke! I did this to myself, we didn’t have bandages so I cut some cloth.”

He looks you over again and sighs heavily, the purple hue that was full of rage, leaving him.

“Ok, fine. Where’s that jerk? I’ll fix him up real quick so we can go home.” He grumbled, following you into the kitchen.

Even though Rohan wanted to refuse any treatment from Josuke, he finally accepted the help when you threatened to cry on the spot. His arm had returned to its previous state, unburned and fully functional, thanks to Josuke and Shining Diamond.

Josuke picked up your backpack and held the now fixed front door open for you, while Rohan stood and waved goodbye. You awkwardly returned the wave and made your way back home, your thoughts chaotic and confused.

On the one hand you felt guilty for putting Rohan through such an immense amount of pain, but you were also upset at the humiliation he put you through by reading your life with Heaven’s Door. These thoughts plagued your mind as you laid your head to rest for the night.

~

It was roughly two in the afternoon when Rohan Kishibe knocked on your front door. A short but older woman answered, complaining about the loudness of the knocks when she looked over the artist.

“Oh, my apologies. You’re that Rohan Kishibe my kids talk about. How may I help you, Mr. Kishibe?” She asked with a warm tone to her voice, leaning against her door frame and smiling up at him.

“Is y/n in? I’d like to deliver this to her personally.” He spoke softly, shaking the box he held in his hands.

Your mother couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. He appeared to be anxious and uncomfortable, most likely it was his first time gifting something like this.

“She’s not home yet, but give her five minutes. Why don’t you come in? You can wait for her up in her room, just don’t go raiding her drawers or anything.” She joked, Rohan’s cheeks turning vivid scarlet.

“I’m only pulling your leg, sweety. I know you’re better than that. Now come on! Have a seat at her desk and I’ll bring you up some lemonade.” Rohan followed her inside.

When they reached your room, Mrs.Higashikata opened the door and waved her hand to your desk seat.

“Pull up that chair there and I’ll be back with some refreshments.” Her smile gleamed at him. She walked off to the kitchen, leaving the artist alone in your room.

Rohan browsed around your room, taking in the personality that was apparent by the many bits of decor that gave your little private space a peculiar style. Your walls held photos printed on Polaroid film, sketches presumably drawn by you, and posters of your favorite video games and shows.

When he glanced around your room, he was immediately caught off guard when he spotted two volumes of his very own manga, propped up and on display in your bookcase. To say he was flattered was an understatement, he was completely floored. You were a fan of his?

His heart was heavy all of a sudden, he felt a dreadful pain in his chest while he held the book in his hands. He turned his head toward the doorway when he heard your voice greet your mother. To regain himself, he quickly skimmed through the pages of the manga he was holding, hearing your distant conversation come to an end.

You entered the room. Dropping your bag at the corner of the closet, your eyes never leaving Rohan while you take a seat on your bed. The mangaka gently placed your copy of Pink Dark Boy back in its original position, turning around now to face you.

“I’d like to humbly apologize for my abhorrent behavior and actions yesterday. I was terrible. I know it might be asking too much of you, but I brought you this as a peace offering. I want us to start over. I’d like to get to know you the right way.” He passes you the box he was carrying with him, nudging you to open it.

Casually unknotting the bow and removing the lid from the bottom, you slowly lift what appears to be a white sundress out of the box. It was beautifully made and looked to be just your size.

“I know it’s not the skirt you tore, but I felt like you deserved something a little more unique.” He averts your gaze quickly when you attempt to gauge his reaction.

The mangaka appears to be flustered, apparently not very used to apologizing. His eyes held a fear of rejection but also a glimmer of hope. A breath you never knew you were holding was released with a quiet hum.

“It’s beautiful, thank you, but do know that buying me things isn’t going to repair my trust in you. We can at the very least start over though.”

Rohan smiled to himself, thankful for your empathetic nature, and nodded a quick yes.

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, how about we take that dress and enjoy some tea at the cafe? My treat.”

[fairytsuk1]

trainwreck | pt.2

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader

genre: fluff <3

warning: none! swearing lmao

words: 1,965

summary: after meeting in a rundown station, you both settle on a checkered blanket underneath the cherry blossoms

part one!

     It felt straight out of a movie, the whole scene in front of you felt just like a romantic comedy. The ones where the boy is so obviously out of place, but it was still endearing somehow. Bakugou stood, a checkered blanket and basket in his hands. He was that boy in the movie, handsome but with his own unique charm that no other film could replicate. He was not just that boy. He was your boy. The Adam's apple in your throat bobbed, a wave of nervousness washed over you. You'd brought your own woven basket full of delicious treats you'd specially baked for this date, but now you fretted that it wasn't enough. 

     "Quit starin' and c'mere!" He shouted with his infamous scowl and low baritone voice before beginning to spread out the blanket, "I'll force-feed you if I have to! They took a lot of work!!"

     He was nervous too, it was only the second date. What was supposed to happen on the second date? Hell if he knew, and he certainly wasn't going to ask his mom or dad. That was just asking for jokes about his love-life and whatnot, it was his business! Whatever. He'll figure it out because you're just a girl...just an adorable, charming, and cute girl. 

"I didn't know you had it in you! You don't seem like the type to…" you grew quieter as you came face to face with a bouquet of Gardenias. White Gardenias, they were beautiful, "...to show up with flowers…"

     You take them and swear you can feel the electricity when your fingers graze his own.

     "What the hell does that mean?! Just...take the flowers. And don't look so shocked about it either! Sit down with me, I didn't bring all of this for nothing."

     You sniffed them and savored the sweet, delicate scent before grinning widely. You donned a cute outfit, cozy but fashionable. Your mother-deemed by herself as the best consultant for dates-made sure to accessorize you for a final touch of pizazz. His eyes trailed over the various gems and shimmers that graced your body.

     "You look cute."

"You look handsome! So...what'd you bring me?"

     His shoulders dropped as he grew more relaxed and into the mood. You weren't a stranger; you were just someone who seemed to be occupying his mind everywhere he went. Must be a curse of the crush.

     He began to rant about his experience making deli sandwiches and how "they better taste like heaven on bread!" but you could only focus on one thing. Him. His face was smooth with no blemishes and his hands seemed soft based on the light touch from before. You hadn't kissed him yet, but you knew well enough from the late-night video chats that his lips were cushy and smooth from the strawberry chapstick he wore. 

     "Are you listening?"

"Hah? Yeah."

     "Don't worry, I'd tell you all over again if I had to." He snorted and pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich. "This one's yours. I didn't know what you wanted, but everyone likes roast beef...right? Uh there's also turkey or chicken if you-"

"Did you seriously make me tons of different sandwiches because you didn't know what I liked? Why didn't you just text me?!"

     "It would've ruined the surprise! I don't know what you brought so why should you know?!"

"That just seems like a waste-"

     He shouted, but it wasn't malicious, "I'll eat all these goddamn sandwiches myself if I have to! Don't test me!"

     The fact that he was getting riled up over some subs sent you into a fit of giggles causing you to fall back onto the soft blanket. He grumbled curses as he nudged your knee to "come up and eat!". Your stomach eventually ceased it's laughing fit and you sat back up while trying to bite back a smile. Bakugou had already started to eat in which he reminded you of a giant wolf. But if he was a wolf, what were you? Maybe a bunny? Either way, you two were an unlikely pair. You began to eat.

     The first bite was an experience in itself, your tastebuds happily savoring the flavors of tomato, beef, and dijon mustard. The bread was even lightly toasted. A delightful moan escaped your lips as your tongue darted out to swipe over them once more. His red eyes roamed your face to search for any hint of dislike.

"Bakugou, this is so fucking good. I know you said you liked to cook, but I wasn't expecting corporate-level food!"

     A smug grin tugged at his lips as he looked down and crumpled the wrapper. A "T" labeled on it for turkey was quickly hidden by the folds. He was also an organized guy though you knew that already. It was just as you thought when you caught a peek of his phone one time to see everyone's contacts labeled with photos. Yours had a heart next to it which you had pretended not to notice.

     "Well, only for you. I'd hate to disappoint a pretty girl."

     Warmth bloomed in your chest as you cheesed over the downright dangerously romantic line. The sun shone on you both, a gust of wind let the flower petals of the delicate cherry blossoms flow to the ground, an easy path left behind them. You took another bite and watched as he dug around in his basket, revealing chips that he opened and pointed towards you.

     "We should've brought plates instead of wrappers and napkins. Don't you dare spill anything on my blanket or else my mom will have my ass!"

"Oh? Maybe then she'll finally know who her son keeps calling so late at night."

     "You're the one that stays up late! It's none of her business anyways," he squinted at you as if to dig his heels into proving he'd never tell a soul before happily snacking on some chips.

"Well, whatever makes you comfy! It doesn't bother me."

     As you finished up your absolutely delightful sandwich, Bakugou tugged on his bottom lip. You were completely comfortable in his presence, no tense energy or apprehensiveness radiated off of you.

"If you start overthinking Bakugou, you'll get painful gas."

     "Who says something like that?! That's not even true! Your quirk's wrong, I'm just thinking."

"Uh-huh, I can feel your aura. You think too hard! You work hard all the time, so just relax, I'm not gonna go anywhere. Alright, time for my super awesome kickass and totally delicious desserts! So..."

     The first Tupperware box contained two crispy brown flaky pieces of pie. The crust was cooked perfectly, and Bakugou's mouth watered as the cherries glistened with their sugary sheen.

"Here it is! This is cherry pie, I thought it'd be nice 'cause I know you aren't the biggest fan of super sweet stuff," you smiled and lifted the container up to his face, "plus it matches your eyes!"

     "It looks amazing. I can't wait to-hold on-you baked more than that?"

     Nervous laughter made Bakugou scrunch his face up, ready to reprimand you for doing so much for him.

"Like you said, I didn't know what you'd like...It seems like we were both insecure about what to bring!"

     He didn't know why it felt like his heart was about to leap out of his chest.

     "Seems...seems like it," he grabbed a fork and got a nice bite of the dessert, the cherry sauce dripping from the prongs, "open your mouth. I'll feed it to you."

     You stared at his hand and could almost see the shaking. Your face felt hot, and as if your necklace was a choker. It was only your second date. No need to panic, you opened your mouth and let your mouth take the delicious into it before pulling away from the fork. He was right about one fact, the fact is that it was a fucking amazing pie. Though it was so obvious that your pulse raced as his eyes hyper-focused on your lips. This time you hoped he didn’t notice.

     You took your own fork and snagged a bite for him. You still had some cherry sauce on your lip, but you hadn't yet noticed. He did though. You offered the bit of pie towards him and it felt like your stomach was pooling with something. Was it intuition?

     He didn't know why he lurched forward and captured you into a bruising but full of emotions type of kiss. The type of kiss that makes you drop your fork and undoubtedly leave a red splotch in the cherry's descent. The type of kiss you immediately respond to and rest your hands on the junction between his shoulder and neck. The type of kiss with a firmness that makes you push up into the kiss when it seemed like he was trying to crush you with not only his need but his love. He supposed that asking first would've been the gentleman route, but since when was he ever gentlemanly?

     After a few short seconds, your lungs pulsed with the need for air as you fisted his shirt and pulled away. Your brain was racing a million miles a second, and it seemed like there was a slight fog clouding your mind. There were no fireworks or seeing stars, it just felt right. Your lips fit together right. Everything just seemed absolutely perfect.

"...You didn't even get to try the cherry pie."

     "I'm sure it's good, but I was far more interested in something else."

"Don't be ridiculous, you're just a horny teenage boy who should try my pie."

     "Not to be a horny teenage boy or anything, but doesn't that sound a bit dirty?" A boyish smile full of happiness takes you by surprise; you make sure to take a mental snapshot of it in case it happened to disappear right before your eyes, "it'd be funnier if you had brought a creampie! Hah!"

     You groaned and promptly let go of his shirt to poke him in his ribs. Was this the real Bakugou Katsuki? Crude and full of passion? Or was he more like the romantic you saw earlier, with a touch of shyness? 

     "Now you're the one overthinking. Look, you'll miss my pie-eating face," Bakugou held the fork up with an impossibly large bite that made you doubtful as to whether he could actually eat it, "see? Of course, I'll try whatever you make."

     It makes sense now. Bakugou wasn't as one-sided as everyone made him out to be, he was so very complicated with so many varying aspects of him that it almost made it hard to tell. Most people just chose one side and decided to be done with it. But no, you now know that with the countless video chats, games played together, and the two dates spent in each other's company that he was much more than some angry pent-up boy with an ego. 

     He was just like everyone else, and the fact that he looked at you with those vermillion eyes made that clear. 

     Your heart soared, was it because of seeing him exclaim that your pie was so good? Or was it that the red string had finally come to a close and sealed you two off together. You couldn't possibly know. You told yourself you wouldn't use your quirk on him for a while, but you just had to know what he was feeling.

     An overwhelming rush of warmth and light washed over you, like an ocean wave crashing into you and knocking you down. But no sharp sand or water filling your lungs, just the softness of pure joy and excitement.

     "Mhm, this is so fucking good. And call me Katsuki, okay? It's better that way."

     You had to agree, it was indeed better that way.

[cuntess-carmilla]

Update: I stopped taking psychiatric medication because they turned out to have only ever been of “help” because I have POTS/dysautonomia and one made my blood pressure rise (Wellbutrin) while the other kept it from going up too high (Lamotrigine).

Now that I’m taking meds that are for what I ACTUALLY do have (POTS/dysautonomia) not only do I not need the psychiatric meds, but they were throwing off everything else. I hate psychiatry so much. Can’t believe I turned out to be one of those people who had their physical illness mistreated as You’re Crazy for years haha. :) With that out of the way...

Some Many of my Opinions™ on psychiatry, as a psychiatrized person myself who does take medication, but hates the institutions of psychiatry and psychology, and thinks a large chunk of it is white pseudo-science:

A good amount of the issues that the psychiatric institution addresses ARE absolutely real and, as a society, people who’re afflicted by them should by all means receive help and support so they can live happier lives. I experience many of them and take medication to help myself, I obviously don’t think the difficult experiences people seek help for are made up.

At the same time, psychiatry and psychology as disciplines ARE made up (like every other discipline), making them not infallible or objective, AND they were built on eugenics, patriarchy, white supremacy and capitalist exploitation.

Those very real issues addressed by psychology/psychiatry aren’t actual literal pathologies. They don’t need to be literal tangible sicknesses in order to matter or be deserving of help and compassion. Your literal brain as a bodily organ is not physically “ill”, at least in most cases. It doesn’t need to be for your problems associated with an “ill mind” to be real and to matter. Remember, these disciplines were created at a time in history in which (white, male) doctors and theorists were obsessed with turning everything into a material, scientifically tangible subject that could be objectively measured with numbers and shit, hopefully medicalized or otherwise turned into “hard science”. That’s where ethnography came from. It’s called positivism, which is extremely dehumanizing, white supremacist and capitalist.

Psychology should be largely considered as much more of a metaphysical or philosophical discipline than as objective science, which is how most people perceive it to be. It’s mostly pure theory about emotions, thoughts, cognition, relationships and subjective experiences + perceptions -- which isn’t necessarily a bad thing on itself. It not being hard science doesn’t immediately delegitimize it. Get rid of the white capitalist idea that only (western, white) science and “objectivity” are real or of value. Actually, holding psychology to the standards of hard science turns it into pseudo-science, so... Yeah. I genuinely think we’d get so much further As A Society™ regarding psychology's potential to aid people who’re suffering if we treated it as more of a metaphysical or philosophical discipline than as some objective scientific truth.

Psychiatrists often are super ignorant of the actual way the medications they prescribe work or affect patients lmao. I had that almost ruin a whole semester at college because a shrink prescribed me meds that in combination she should’ve known would fuck me up. Not that much is known about how the human brain truly works compared to other human organs, you can’t expect psychiatric meds to be well tried and true. The research on psychiatric pharmacy is very lacking + biased in favor of pathologizing and controlling psychiatrized people, besides attempting to make the most profit under capitalism like any other capitalist industry, so of course they’re gonna prescribe you shit. Plus, like doctors of every other field, many psychiatrists arrogantly disregard the experiences, requests, questions and ideas of their patients, who’re the ones taking those meds.

Psychologists/therapists, just like psychiatrists, also disregard the experiences, requests, questions and ideas of their patients.

There’s such a strong element of power imbalance in how psychiatry and psychology function. The more a patient knows formal information about anything related to psychology/psychiatry, the more the shrink can get upset, distrustful and dismissive of them, saying they’re faking it, or telling them “not to do their jobs” when they so often do said jobs like shit anyway lmao no matter how thorough the research and understanding of the patient is.

Psychological and psychiatric diagnoses are just as made up as any other human construct (such as language, race, gender, etc). They’re not tangible realities as if shrinks had ran into a previously unknown objective fact of nature. In the realm of psychology, someone takes a bunch of traits and behaviors that by their observation they consider to be interconnected with one another, put them in the same bag, stick a label to said bag, and ask other psychologists if they agree with the bag being a thing. These considerations are heavily influenced by sociocultural bias. You can’t tell me it isn’t true that they’re made up and very subjective when “diagnoses” such as drapetomania, hysteria, homosexuality, gender identity disorder, etc, have been seriously considered at least by part of the psychiatric establishment of their times as legitimate mental disorders. Hell, some still consider being gay or trans to be mental disorders. Don’t get me started on "Oppositional Defiant Disorder”, that shit’s just evil.

A lot of the ideas spread by the psychiatric-psychological institution are legit pseudo-science that researches try time and time again to prove and end up coming with nothing, or they end up tweaking their own research or conclusions to maintain the established consensus that just so turns out to be very convenient to the people who make and sell psychiatric meds.

Many of the traits, emotions, thoughts, perceptions and behaviors that are pathologized by psychiatry and psychology aren’t inherently harmful. If they don’t make the patient or others suffer by their very nature (as opposed to like, homophobic parents “suffering” because their child is gay or a gay person suffering because of homophobia) then there’s no need to alter them. “Correcting” them is a measure of social control that crushes individuality and only attempts to mold people into obedient ~productive~ servants of capitalism. Much of psychiatric medical treatment (not just the diagnoses and therapies themselves) focuses on turning the patient into less of a social “burden”, than on their actual happiness. That’s why you have ADHD and autistic kids being given meds that turn them into zombies and that's been considered a good thing for DECADES. Like, why does the stimming of an autistic person or an “unusual” attachment to stuffed animals as an autistic adult have to be corrected? WHOMST does that harm? Nobody! But it makes allistics uncomfortable because allistics are fucking stupid and can’t mind their God damned business to save their lives like normal people do.

Even non-pharmaceutical treatments for psychiatrized conditions are or can be turned into measures of social control. 

Maybe CBT wasn’t meant to be a tool to control people and shit, but it can be misused as such SO easily! It can go from being therapy to help individuals process inner pain and redirect harmful behaviors in positive ways, to being turned into training someone to react, feel and process abuse and oppression in ways that are convenient to the status quo. 

Don’t get me fucking started on ABA as an inherently oppressive, abusive “treatment” for a psychiatrized condition that does nothing to actually better the lives of autistic people, instead punishing autistic traits, teaching autistic people to painfully repress said traits and ignore their needs, and seeking to appease allistics by prioritizing their convenience and subjective comfort.

Behaviors, emotions, perceptions or traits that on a man or white person would be considered a non-issue or given much more compassionate/less stigmatized diagnoses, are pathologized or given much more stigmatized diagnoses when it comes to female or racialized patients, which reaffirms psychiatry and psychology as subjective tools of social control.

While many of the traits, emotions, perceptions and behaviors of what are considered personality disorders are painful, harmful and real (and thus should be helped, with consent, not hammered down), literal personalities aren’t “ill”. They’re personalities. Pathologizing or medicalizing a fucking personality on itself is ridiculous. It is possible to address those problematic traits/behaviors/etc without saying that a fucking personality is “ill”. So much for “you’re not your disorder”.

What shrinks will deem as hallucinations or delusions can be subjective, and it definitely can be deemed as such out of white-centric cultural bias. Plenty of non-white cultures have considered different perceptions of reality as valid and worthy of respect for centuries, at times related to their sense of spirituality. Not to mention how psychiatry has deemed the real anxieties of oppressed people that they’re being followed, spied on, plotted against and all that, as hallucinations or delusions in order to discredit them.

Many patients are given medication to try to alleviate traits/behaviors/emotions that come from circumstance (poverty, ongoing abuse, trauma, oppression...) instead of addressing the root problems. While I 100% understand using medication as a palliative measure because, bitch, you can’t always fix those problems and you still have a life to live (the same way I take clotiazepam when the insensitivity of the allistics around me causes me sensory overload), this puts the burden of the person’s situation on their own body, as if their body was the essential source of a suffering that comes from outside forces they’re not responsible or in control of. This should ideally be addressed through material change in realities that can be individual (removing the person from an abusive situation, giving economic aid, giving proper treatment to an untreated chronic illness) or social (abolishing white supremacy, the patriarchy, capitalism, etc).

So many times when palliative medical treatments for suffering that comes from circumstances don’t work (BECAUSE THE PATIENT IS STILL TRAPPED IN SAID CIRCUMSTANCES, HELLO?) it’s blamed on a supposed defect of the patient’s body/brain rather than, like... You can give me as many anti-depressants as you want but I’m still gonna be miserable if I’m being abused or suffering from unending physical chronic pain lol. And then, instead of at least having the decency of recognizing the real source of the problem if your shrink can’t realistically fix it, they keep trying more and more different meds on you like you’re a fucking lab rat, keeping on blaming a made up defect you were “born” with. Imagine what that does to a person’s self-image! At least when I loathe my body for the chronic pain, chronic fatigue and more that my chronic illnesses give me, it IS actually true that it’s my body that has a defect that can’t be cured. Why convince a person in suffering due to anything, but especially when it’s due to outside conditions out of their control and your job is fucking supposed to be to help them be happier, that their pain refuses to respond to treatment because their BRAIN is so terribly defective? I don’t wish the hatred I hold for my objectively shitty body on anyone, and causing that to someone when it’s not even true...? Incredible.

Lots of genuine difficulties associated with psychiatric diagnoses are much better helped through accessibility and material considerations, or at least through teaching the patient pragmatic methods to better deal with those, than through pills. But guess what solution shrinks usually give you. Hint: it’s easier for them and they can charge you for it monthly.

Society™ medicalized emotions, bro... WE MEDICALIZED FEELINGS!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!

[abandoned-ficlets]

Iwaizumi, the Cat Whisperer

Summary: 

Tooru slams the cat carrier down on the checkout counter followed by his cracked volleyball trophy. Ming meows loudly, annoyed, and sticks one paw out of the bars to swipe at him. The cashier, the same spiky-haired guy that helped him pick out cat food on Thursday, eyes Tooru like he’s gone insane.

“How can I help y-“ “I think my cat is defective.”

(In which Oikawa recruits Iwaizumi, a Petsmart worker, to help him with his problems.)

Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team is barely ten minutes into their evening practice when the usual whispers start.

Outside of the gym, a group of girls are huddled around in a circle, sneaking looks and cooing loudly at each other. The thudding of volleyballs hitting the floor serves as a backdrop to their excited voices.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so cute!” One girl squeals, her voice happy.

“What I wouldn’t give to have him come home with me,” Another girl says with a wink at her friends.

“Tell me about it! I don’t want to think what my dad would say about him though.”

“Adorable~ So adorable!”

The words are familiar to Tooru. He’s long since gotten used to his fan club’s praises - happy smiles and blushes that adorn their faces when he acknowledges them during practice. The girls have made it their priority to attend Seijoh’s volleyball practices, the most loyal of his fans sitting in the stands during every single one, cheering loudly whenever Tooru scores against a teammate in a practice game.

Tooru is used to their excitement as they watch him play, yes.

But what he’s not used to is their attention being directed at something other than him: namely, a grungy-looking stray cat that has been interrupting his volleyball practices for a straight week now. Currently, the thing is sitting outside the gym's main door, causing a commotion as the girls lavish it with attention.

The ugly little monster is purring loudly, loud enough that Tooru can hear it on the sidelines as he takes a swig from his water bottle. He huffs at the display, knowing he probably looks ridiculous but also aware that he can’t push away his thoughts of jealousy and betrayal.

A girl coos as the cat scratches at her leg, meowing loudly like it wants to be held. She giggles and picks the thing up, much to the other girls’ envy. They all crowd around her, holding out arms so they can hold him next. Over their shoulders, Tooru can see the cat staring straight at him. He narrows his eyes, trying to send a telepathic message of back off. This is my turf. The cat just blinks lazily at him, completely unconcerned with the warning.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Makki asks as he plops down next to Tooru, spreading himself out on the bench.

Tooru doesn’t respond, continuing to narrow his eyes at the rival cat who still hasn’t broken eye contact. If he didn’t know any better (and he doesn’t), he’d say the stray looks smug.

“Earth to Oikawa? Anyone there?” His friend waves a hand in front of Tooru’s face and finally Tooru looks away from the cat, eyes focusing in on Makki’s trademark smirk.

“I hate cats,” Tooru says, taking one last swig of water and making his way back to the court. He can practically feel the eye roll behind him.

But it’s true; Tooru has never really understood the appeal of cats. They’re rude, stink up the house with their litter boxes, and spend most of the day sitting like useless bricks, napping by the window.

Once, when he was about six, he had tried to pet his friend’s siamese cat. He had reached out with a tentative finger, merely wanting to scratch it behind the ear but the demon had lunged toward him, claws and teeth bared. The cat had only been able to reach for Tooru once before being pulled away, but Tooru had been left with a light pink scar on his cheek that didn’t fade until weeks later.

Since then, he’s sworn up and down that he’d never approach a cat again.

But the girls must not share that sentiment, because day-after-day, without fail, they go the the stray, bringing him food and blankets and water bottles to pour into fancy cat bowls. And day-after-day that cat keeps purring and offering love and affection along with those infuriating stares at Tooru.

The girls love that damn cat so much that’s it’s becoming a serious problem for Tooru. His fans have even started ignoring his volleyball practices to go hang out with the abomination, deciding that a cat is more important than him. More important than Oikawa Tooru. It’s impossible for him to wrap his mind around.

At his coach’s shout, Tooru gets back to practice but anyone can tell he isn’t fully present. His mind is busy, occupied by cats.

---

An hour later, as he bumps up a particularly perfect set to Kindaichi, Tooru realizes something. There is only one way to beat this cat, only one way to come out on top.

He has to adopt it. There is no other way.

Because if he doesn’t - if he leaves the stray to its own devices - the girls will begin to forget him. They’ll start skipping out on practices, stop giving him the attention he so rightly deserves for his volleyball skills. He’ll fade into obscurity, unable to land a volleyball scholarship because no one will be interested anymore, no one will care. He’ll end up with a boring office job and a wife he hates in a house that’s too small. Tooru will become inconsequential.

That’s not going to happen, not if Tooru has any say in it.

And thus, Tooru does what must be done - he sprints out of the gym the moment that their coach dismiss the team, waving off Makki and Mattsun’s curious glances. Less than ten minutes later, he’s walking into a brightly-lit Petsmart, grabbing a cart and passing through the automatic doors.

He looks around the store, not quite sure where to begin shopping for cat supplies. The place is completely foreign territory.

Scanning the brightly lit aisles, he sees colorful fish swimming around in crowded tanks and birds squawking at each other, arguing in loud voices. There is a dog section filled with food and toys.

Finally he lands in a section labeled, Cats, written in block letters on a huge sign. Next to the word hangs a picture of a striped yellow cat playing happily with a red ball of yarn.

“Okay,” Tooru hums, scanning the aisles. “Where to start?”

---

Ten minutes later, Tooru’s cart is filled to the brim. He hadn’t been sure what to get exactly, so he figured the safest bet would be to get one of everything.

He found a large litter-box, enclosed like a small cave (because he sure-as-hell is not going to put up with the stray stinking up his bedroom), a heavy carton of litter that had taken Tooru an embarrassingly long amount of time to pick up, as well as some other things. The food bowls are his favorite find: two turquoise metal dishes with white fish bones imprinted along the side.

The toys are nice too. He was surprised to see the sheer variety - he’d always assumed cats were too lazy to play or do anything but sleep. A long wooden stick with a feather pokes out from amongst all the others. There is only one thing stumping him: cat food.

Dozens of brands, each with their own specific “flavors” and “specialties” line up and down the food section. Tooru isn’t sure if he should go with the one for indoor cats, or the real-meat based one, or even the natural-organic branded one. Does it even matter which one he gets? It’s just cat food. The stray should be lucky it's getting any food at all.

But then again, he doesn’t want to make it sick.

In one arm he picks up a light blue bag. It has a sweet-looking striped gray cat on the front and is labeled “Indoor formula” so it seems like a safe bet. But then again, the organic one looks nice.

He’s about to just throw both into his cart and be done with it when a deep voice rings out on his left side.

“Do you need any help?”

Tooru jumps a little, surprised, before turning to look at the owner of the voice.

It is a worker - probably about Tooru’s age - wearing an employee vest in the most hideous blue color that Tooru has ever seen. Despite that, he’s nice-looking, with spiky black hair and a mouth turned down in a slight grimace.

“Yes actually,” Tooru says after a pause that is only a second too long. He puts on his sweetest voice, the one that Makki likes to roll his eyes at. “I need a second opinion.”

The guy grunts. Tooru takes it as an ‘okay.’

“Let’s say I’m adopting a scrawny stray. Would this” he holds up the blue bag in his right arm, “or that one,” he points towards the organic bag, “be better for it?”

The guy’s eyes flicker between the two before meeting Tooru’s gaze again.

“How old is the cat?”

Tooru shrugs, not entirely sure. He puts the indoor bag back on a random open spot on a shelf. The guy frowns but doesn’t say anything.

“Probably about this big,” Tooru holds his hands about a foot apart.

The guy nods, lips pursed thoughtfully. “You can probably just get the normal-“

“Wait!” Tooru says loudly, noticing but not caring about the annoyed expression that fall on the worker’s face at Tooru’s interruption. “I actually think it might be a few months old.”

He vaguely remembers seeing the cat hanging around before, back at the beginning of the school year. He never paid the creature any mind, but he is at least fifty percent sure about that at least.

“It sounds like your cat might actually be a kitten. You’ll want some of this food,” he says as he leans slightly in front of Tooru so that he can grab one to his right. Tooru takes an automatic step back to make room.

“Thank you,” Tooru says, genuinely, as the guy pulls back, setting the bag in Tooru’s cart. He takes a second glance at the guy. Raking his eyes over his toned form, appraising. Not bad.

"I'm Tooru by the way," Tooru says, injecting his voice with the syrupy sweet quality that draws people to him like flies. He expects the guy to react positively, maybe swoon or blush a little. That’s the normal response to Tooru’s flirting, and Tooru has come to expect it.

Instead the guy doesn’t react at all. He just begins walking toward the checkout counter. "I can check you out over here."

Tooru blinks, surprised. Odd. Tooru tries again, assuming the guy is just shy and needs extra attention.

"Oh, can you now?" He adds extra sweetness to his voice and even winks at the worker, just to make sure his point hits home.

"Yes. But if you keep hitting on me, I'll get my manager to help you instead."

Tooru blinks again, three times before the words finally sink in. Then he's blushing, mortified, and just nods and follows the guy to the checkout corner.

Wordlessly, the guy rings up his items. Five minutes later...

“One hundred and fifty dollars?” Tooru squeaks, voice unbelieving. “For cat supplies?”

The guy shrugs lazily, face bored and gaze directed behind Tooru’s head. “You bought a lot of stuff.”

Tooru swears under his breath, cursing the ugly cat, as he takes out his wallet and rifles through for his allowance - all of it.

The cat had better appreciate his great sacrifice.

---

The next day, Tooru springs the news on his fanclub just as they’re gathering to watch this evening’s volleyball practice.

"Hello girls~" he trills happily, “how are all of you doing today?”

There is a flurry of movement, the girls are taken off guard. Tooru usually doesn’t talk to them before practice, preferring to keep his focus on volleyball for as long as he can. They are happy for his presence though, their smiles make that clear.

The girls all start answering at once, and Tooru can only pick out a few of the responses.

“We’re good, Tooru!” “Thanks for asking!” “I’ve had a great day!”

Tooru smiles back at them and a few giggle.

“I’m glad you all are doing well. I’m feeling quite the same and I have some big news~ Can anyone guess what it is?”

The fanclub titters, none wanting to be the first to speak out.

“Have you,” one of the bolder girls, Asui, starts, “finally agreed to start modeling, Oikawa-san? We all know you got that offer a while back!”

Tooru laughs, shaking his head. “No that’s not it, dear Asui-chan.” The girl’s face lights up at her name and she steps back, nodding with a smile.

“Anyone else have an idea?”

“No, Oikawa-San,” a chorus rings out. “Please tell us!”

“I,” Tooru claps, pausing for dramatic effect. “I am going to adopt the stray that lives outside of the gym!”

There is a brief pause in which the girls absorb this new information, then chaos practically erupts. The gym fills with loud shrieks of joy, and Tooru catches his coach looking on, annoyed.

“That is so great, Oikawa-San!”

“You are the most generous person, Oikawa!”

“The cat will be so happy to live with you!”

Tooru smiles, his voice carrying over the crowd. “Thank you girls, I am excited too. There is one problem though, I don’t have a name for him.”

“Anyone have any suggestions?”

The girls fall over themselves, trying to shout out cute names for the cat. “How about Noraneko?” One asks. Tooru purses his lips, contemplating. It literally translates to “stray cat”. A little on the nose, but it’s not terrible. He writes it down on a paper list, planning to pick one of the names that his fanclub offers.

A few other names are tossed around but none seem right to Tooru. None stick.

---

Later, when Tooru, Makki and Mattsun are all scarfing down their lunch under a cherry blossom tree, Mattsun remembers the list. He leans over Makki to ask his question. Makki makes a sound of protest deep in his throat, but his mouth is so full of food that it can’t form words. His protesting just comes out as a grumble.

“Did you pick a name yet?” Matssun asks.

Tooru shakes his head, eyes focusing on the last rice grain in his bento box. It falls from his chopsticks. “No. Maybe Noraneko but,” he shrugs, looks up at Mattsun. “It’s so uninspired.”

Makki nudges Tooru with his elbow, cheeks still filled with food. “Ma Mrmhp ma nmeme,” he says, voice unintelligible and flecks of rice falling from his mouth.

Tooru jabs an elbow into Makki’s side. “Eww,” he whines, face twisting into a pout. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, or I’ll make you sit on the other side of Mattsun.”

Makki rolls his eyes and swallows a bit of the rice. His voice is only slightly more intelligible when he says, “why don’t you name him Minikui?”

Minikui? Tooru rolls the name around in his head a coupe times. It literally means ‘ugly,’ and Tooru couldn’t think of a better fit, himself. That cat is one ugly monstrosity. It’s perfect.

“You might just be a genius, Makki. Even if your grades are much lower than mine, there is hope for you yet.”

Tooru is so excited about naming the stray that he graces to ignore the flecks of rice Makki throws at his face.

---

Minikui and Tooru begin their relationship in less-than-ideal circumstances, and Tooru will take most of the blame for that, though the cat isn’t completely innocent either.

Tooru had gone after practice to collect the cat, and his fan club had followed close by his heels. After he had finally wrestled the thing into the carrier (it took about thirty minutes and what seemed like a hundred tries), Tooru had waved goodbye to his friends and fan club, optimism ringing bright in his veins. He was happy this had gone over so well, and though there may have been hiccups (who knew cats could hiss that loudly), he was sure that things would go back to normal. The monster would be locked in Tooru’s room, and the fan club would go back to adoring and supporting him no matter what. And the cat itself was the least of his worries. How hard could it be to take care of one small animal?

It was hard, as it turned out. Very, very hard and frustrating.

It had taken quite some convincing on Tooru’s part to convince his mother to let him keep Minikui. She was surprisingly against the idea, thought he had thought she would like it, but eventually she had caved, only after Tooru promised a million times over that he would take care of the cat all on his own. He would clean the litter box, buy food, and most importantly, pay for all medical bills without any help from his parents.

After all was said and done, she had smiled, patted the purring cat’s head - it was currently exploring Tooru’s room and trying to fit into every small space it could find - and left the two to their own devices.

Tooru had bounced on the bed excitedly the moment the door closed and whipped out his phone.

“Smile Minikui~” he trilled as he snapped a few pictures of the cat, adding them to his instagram with a soft pink filter.

In one, she is peeking out from behind his desk, her tail curled up around the leg and her collar a nice pop of blue against the otherwise neutral background. Another find her looking out the window - very artsy and thoughtful. He adds a few sparkles to that one. And in the last, she is on his bed, Tooru holding the camera near his face to take a selfie with the cat in the background. Under that picture, he titles the post: *Found a new best friend. Sorry, not sorry Makki!*

Within minutes, the likes and comments come flooding in. His fans are obviously overjoyed, and the comments are filled to the brim with hearts and cat emojis and a lot of exclamation points. Somewhere hidden amongst the flood of positive comments is Makki’s own: I hope the cat disfigures you in your sleep. But Tooru pays it no mind, spending the next fifteen minutes liking his fans thoughtful messages.

But after the high from positive attention wears off, Tooru isn’t quite sure what to do next.

He stares at the cat, who is curled up a few feet away, its eyes closed and seemingly sleeping peacefully. It doesn’t look that scary all curled up like that. With a tentative hand, he pats the cat on its head, lightly, just once.

Minikui does nothing, just continues sleeping as though Tooru hadn’t touched her at all. Emboldened by her lack of reaction, Tooru decides to push his luck a little farther. He puts his hand under the cat’s belly, lifts it up and sets it lightly down in his lap. The cat does nothing more than open one eye, checking Tooru out before going back to sleep.

Hmm, he thinks. Maybe this isn't such a bad deal. The cat doesn’t hate him, at least not as much as they though. Maybe this can work, Maybe—

In a flash, Mininkui’s eyes pop open and she chomps down on Tooru’s hand as he yelps. He doesn’t even have the time to blink, let alone snatch his hand away in time.

“Fine, leave,” Tooru holds his hands up above the cat’s head so the thing can get up and walk away. “No one is keeping you hostage.”

In response, Minikui jumps upward, hooking his claws into Tooru’s hand, pulling it down so he can bite into it once again. Tooru pushes the cat off his lap and he falls with a hard thud on the ground, complaining loudly. Tooru looks at his hand; it’s marked with tiny grooves from Minikui’s teeth, curved over his hand in a small arc. He holds the hand in front of its face, shakes it at the cat's uninterested stare.

“Look what you did! Now I’ll have to set with imperfect hands!”

In response, Minikui just eyes Tooru’s hands - looking as though he would like nothing more than to sink his teeth in one more time.

You have no idea what you’ve started, Minikui, Tooru thinks as he snatches his hand away, nursing the injured body part against his chest. This means war.

---

Meow ~ meow ~ meow. The string of cat noises wakes Tooru up like an alarm clock. He lifts his head from the pillow to stare at Minikui. The cat is on his chest, sitting on its haunches and staring intently down at Tooru.

“Hi, ugly,” he says, voice thick with sleep. “Are you hungry?"

Minikui dips his head in what Tooru supposes is a nod, meowing once more.

"Okay, okay," Tooru yawns, "Give me five more minutes and I’ll get your food.” He closes his eyes again, wanting just a few more minutes of sleep.

He feels Minikui move on his chest, walking closer to his head. The cat swipes a couple times at Tooru's hair. Claws get tangled in his bedhead.

“/Minikui/,” Tooru whines, batting at him halfheartedly with one hand. The cat meows again and bats back at him in response. “Five more minutes.”

Tooru turns on his side, bringing the blanket up to his chin and snuggling down further into the bed. Minikui jumps off him and lands with a dull thud on his wood floor. He can hear the cat rummaging around in his room but pays him no mind. Just five more minutes, he thinks somewhat deliriously.

Then, he hears Minikui’s voice from a few feet above him, to the right. “Meow,” and the sound holds the taunting edge that he’s come to fear.

Immediately, Tooru's eyes shoot open an he sits up straight in bed, looking for the reason for that dangerous meow. Sure enough, the demon is on his bookcase, one paw held up behind a volleyball trophy (the participation award he received at the end of elementary school.) Minikui looks disinterestedly at him, grooming a paw while still holding the other up behind the trophy.

“Minikui,” he warns, but it’s too late.

The trophy comes crashing to the floor, and Tooru can hear it splinter. From downstairs comes his mother’s muffled, “Are you okay, Tooru?”

“I’m fine, mom!”

But he's not fine, not at all.

He narrows his eyes at the cat. That’s it. This needs to end. Now.

---

Making a beeline towards the Petsmart checkout counter, Tooru is a man on a mission. Minikui tries every few moments to break free from his restraint, knocking his head against the bars of his carrier but Tooru ignores the cat's struggle.

He slams the cat carrier down on the checkout counter followed by his cracked volleyball trophy. Ming meows loudly, annoyed, and sticks one paw out of the bars to swipe at him. The cashier - the same spiky-haired guy that helped him pick out cat food on Thursday - eyes Tooru like he’s gone insane.

“Can I help y-“

“I think my cat is defective.”

---

Tooru picks the cat up, straining to do so. The stray has almost doubled in size since he first brought him home.

“Look at it.”

“Oi,” Iwaizumi starts, frowning at the cat. “How much are you feeding him?”

“How.. much?”

“Yeah, like a cup a day, a cup and a half? How much does the side of the bag say to give?”

Tooru picks up the cat food bag and sure enough, there is a chart on the side, outlining how much to feed according to their weight.

“You’re,” Tooru pauses, eyes the chart. “You’re not just supposed to feed it whenever it meows?”

Iwaizumi groans and places a finger at his temple, like he’s warding off an impending headache. “We have a lot of work to do, don’t we?”

Tooru shrugs. “Probably,” he says, setting the fat cat down onto the wood paneling.

The cat meows in protest and swats at Tooru’s leg like he’s done something wrong before disappearing under the bed. Tooru looks to Iwaizumi, gesturing toward the cat and back at himself, eyes clearly saying, ‘do you see what I have to deal with here?

Iwaizumi ignores him and takes a few steps forward until he’s in front of the bed. Slowly, he gets down on his knees and lowers his head so that he can see into the shadows.

Tooru probably should warn him about Minikui’s tendency to scratch at anyone’s face if they get too close, but Iwaizumi has been a bit awful to him. Maybe it’s best for him to learn the hard way: through experience, aka getting swiped at by feral claws.

“Minikui,” Iwaizumi calls out in a low voice.

As Iwaizumi busies himself trying to get the cat out from under the bed, Tooru bounces on top it, rolling his eyes. Turning onto his stomach, he lays half off the bed, dangling only inches away from Iwaizumi’s annoyed expression. “It won’t come out, it doesn’t matter how much you call for it. Believe me, I’d know.”

Iwaizumi lifts his head to glare at Tooru but the intimidating effect that he is going for is somewhat ruined by the way his hair is all in his eyes.

“Maybe if you’d talk to him like a living thing, you prick, and not constantly call him ‘it’, Minikui would listen to you,” Iwaizumi pops his head back under the bed so that Tooru’s view is blocked. The man starts making weird clucking noises and calling out Minikui’s name in that same low voice.

The words bubble out of Tooru’s chest as his lips curl up in amusement. “Are you a chicken, Iwa-chan? What is that noise even supposed to do?”

Tooru thinks he hears a growl from under the bed but it’s impossible to know if it comes from Iwaizumi or the cat.

Eventually, Iwaizumi reemerges with the cat in his arms. The monster is purring loudly and cuddling into Iwaizumi’s toned chest like it’s the most comfortable place in the world. Tooru tries not to feel disappointed that there’s not a single scratch marring up Iwaizumi’s handsome face.

“How’d you do that?” Tooru asks accusingly.

Iwaizumi smiles down at the cat. “You just have to be patient,” he scratches behind Minikui’s ears and the purring seems to get even louder. “Cats don’t like being told what to do. You can’t force anything with them.”

“Hmm,” Tooru hums as he watches Iwaizumi sit down beside him on the bed, still scratching behind the cat’s ears. The two look so content, and the way that the sun is shining through Tooru’s bedroom window frames the scene like it’s some sort of painting. He blames the weird flutters in his chest at the strangeness of it all.

“Stop hogging the cat, Iwa-chan. Let me try.”

With a nod, Iwaizumi holds out his arms slowly towards Tooru. The cat stays purring, eyes still closed as it is undisturbed by the movement. But the second Tooru lays a hand on top of its fur, Minikui’s eyes pop open and the cat is jumping out of Iwaizumi’s arms and meowing angrily. ��Don’t you dare touch me,’ the cat’s eyes seem to say and its tail is puffed up angrily like it’s expecting a fight.

“Right,” Iwaizumi says after a brief pause in which both boys just stare down at the angry cat. It isn’t hissing, but the look in its eyes says that one wrong move and there will be nothing but that ugly sound. “I guess we’ll work on the trust issues first.”

---

“No, you’re petting him all wrong. Do it like this,” Iwaizumi demonstrates. He strokes his hand down the cat’s back, and Minikui purrs happily. But when Tooru tries the same thing, all he gets is an angry lunge towards his hand. Luckily, the claws don’t draw blood.

“No, idiot,” Iwaizumi sighs and shakes his head. “Still wrong.”

Tooru can’t help the way he’s growing frustrated. It’s been almost an hour and there has been little to no progress; the cat still hates Tooru and he hates the thing right back.

“Well then, Iwa-chan,“ Tooru says through clenched teeth. “Why don’t you actually tell me what I’m doing wrong instead of parroting the same word over and over again.”

Iwaizumi ignores his tone and takes Tooru hand with a roll of his eyes, placing it gently on Minikui’s soft fur. “Here,” he says, “I’ll show you.”

Tooru’s eyes widen at the skin contact and the strange feeling of Iwaizumi’s rough skin against his own is enough to melt the agitation away.

With careful movements, Iwaizumi guides Tooru’s hands so that he is petting the cat. At first, Minikui stiffens up and growls threateningly but as Tooru continues petting her, she relaxes ever so slightly.

“There,” Iwaizumi says. “Don’t rub her so roughly and you’re fine.” Then he takes his hand away and by some miracle, the cat stays relaxed. After a minute, he even starts purring. It’s surprisingly adorable.

The three sit in silence until Minikui curls in Tooru’s lap - actually, willingly gets into his lap- and falls asleep. Once that happens, Iwaizumi stands up, brushing off some of the cat hair that had settled on his jeans.

“You two look comfortable. I’ll head out.”

“Wait!” Tooru says loudly and Minikui pops an eye open, growling at him before falling back asleep. “Wait,” he says again in a hushed voice. “Can I get your help again?”

Iwaizumi pauses halfway through slipping on his coat. “I guess,” he says but he doesn’t seem very committed.

“I can bring you something in return. What would you want?”

“Money,” Iwaizumi says rather bluntly, but his face cracks into a small smile at whatever expression Tooru makes at that. The expression disappears as soon as it comes. “It’s fine, you don’t need to pay me.”

Tooru makes a pained face. “Yes I do or I’ll feel guilty.” He taps at his cheek in thought. “How about food or something.”

“Seriously, it’s fine.”

“You’re being purposefully difficult.”

Iwaizumi shrugs, completely unconcerned. “That’s me,” he taps at his phone for a second and then looks back up to Tooru to wave goodbye. “Come by Petsmart next time you need help. I work Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Then Iwaizumi walks out and Tooru is left with an odd sense of loneliness.

---

The two end up spending much more time than Tooru had thought Iwaizumi would tolerate.

Every day Iwaizumi works, Tooru makes it a priority to keep him company, even on the days where Iwaizumi can’t help him with Minikui. He meets the manager of the Petsmart, an older woman who takes a liking to Tooru immediately. She lets him hang around whenever and even baked him cookies once for his ‘wonderful company’. “Crappy, ass-kissing personality,” Iwaizumi had taken to mumbling under his breath, but Tooru pays it no mind.

Tooru learns that Iwaizumi has endless patience for animals but next to nothing when it comes to Tooru. He sees it when Minikui hisses at Iwaizumi and the boy does nothing but smile patiently and back off to give the cat some space. Or that one time that Tooru was a couple minutes early to Petstmart and he saw Iwaizumi in his natural habitat - on one knee next to a happy dog, laughing as it smeared its nasty drool all over his face.

But the moment Tooru says something a little too flirty or makes an innocent joke at Iwa-chan’s expense, the boy is all anger issues.

“Shut up, Assikawa!” Or, “do you want me to whip this volleyball at your face, Trashykawa?” Or that one special time that Tooru had called him attractive and Iwaizumi’s face changed colors to match the red of a traffic light and he’d pushed a giggling Tooru off his own couch.

Tooru thinks that Iwaizumi is a lot like an animal himself - namely, a hedgehog: prickly on the outside but ultimately harmless.

To be truthful, he doesn’t know much about Iwaizumi, but he wants to know more. That feeling is alien to Tooru and it surprises him. Because, sure, Iwaizumi is hot, but Tooru finds himself wanting to see past that handsome face and learn what’s underneath.

“Hey, Iwa-chan,” he asks one day as he sits on a stack of huge dogs food bags, ones that Iwaizumi needs to stack on the shelves. Tooru may or may not have spent the last fifteen minutes ogling Iwaizumi’s arms as he lifts each one on a shoulder. Who can blame him though, those arms are gorgeous.

“Mhmmpf,” Iwaizumi grunts. It’s his primitive way of saying ‘yes.’ Sort of like a caveman or a gorilla.

“Do you have any pets?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything for a few moments and Tooru is about to retract when he finally answers. “I had a dog but she passed a few months back.”

“Oh,” Tooru blinks. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Iwaizumi shrugs off Tooru’s apology. He moves to lift another bag. “She died this summer but it feels like ages ago now.”

“Hmm,” Tooru hums, staring at Iwaizumi as he heaves the bag over his shoulder. The other boy doesn’t /seem/ like he was affected by Tooru’s question, but there is this small crinkle between his brows and he hasn’t looked Tooru in the eyes yet.

“What was her name?”

“Molly.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Tooru comments.

“Yes. My younger sister named her.”

“What kind of dog was she?”

“Golden retriever.”

“What-“ Tooru pauses, worries his lip between his teeth. He doesn’t know if it’s okay to ask but the words come out anyway. “What happened to her?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t pause in his movements. He tosses the bag onto the shelf. The metal shelves vibrate under the additional weight, and then still. Iwaizumi’s back is turned when he answers.

“Hit by a car,” he says matter-of-factly. “It sucks but that’s just what happens sometimes.”

If Tooru didn’t know any better, he’d think that Iwaizumi was unaffected. But because he has been watching the other boy so closely these last few weeks, he can spot the difference from his normal demeanor. Iwaizumi’s shoulders are just the slightest bit higher, muscles pulled taught with tension. His head is slightly down turned, his expression is likely taut, though Tooru can only guess that much because Iwaizumi still has not turned to face him. He’s /sad/, Tooru realizes. Immediately, a rush of guilt washes over him. He shouldn’t have asked the other boy so many questions.

“I’m sorry,” Tooru says, his words soft and gentle. They float between the two, and Tooru hopes that Iwaizumi takes them instead of brushing them off.

For a long moment, Iwaizumi’s shoulders inch minutely higher. The tension builds, and Tooru hopes fervently that he hasn’t made Iwaizumi so upset that he will cry. The seconds pass. Above them, the speakers is playing some sort of happy pop song. Tooru wishes a few things - that the stupid music would stop playing first of all, but he mostly just wishes Iwaizumi would turn around so Tooru would see his face.

Then, with a loud sigh, all the tension rushes out Iwaizumi’s body. His shoulders lower and he turns around to meet Tooru’s eyes. Though Tooru thought he expected it, he is still a bit surprised to see the sadness there.

“Move over,” Iwaizumi commands as he moves to sit next to Tooru on the bags of dog food. Tooru complies readily, scooting over a few inches. The plastic crinkles underneath them, the sound emphasizing their movements.

The new position is close, but not uncomfortably so. Tooru can feel the heat of Iwaizumi’s body, only a few inches away, and he feels a strong urge to move his leg out just enough that he can feel that warmth up close.

“Do you want to see a picture of her?” Iwaizumi asks, pulling out his phone from his back pocket.

Tooru nods. He waits patiently for Iwaizumi to search through his photos until he finds a suitable one of Molly.

He catches brief glimpses of Iwaizumi’s life through the scrolling photos. He sees one of Iwaizumi with his sister, their faces close and happy - a setting sun behind them. There is one of Iwaizumi’s...

[scnnyfm-old]

chicago’s very own sunshine ‘sunny’ carmichael has been spotted on madison avenue driving a bmw 3 series , welcome ! your resemblance to dua lipa is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-third birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re sensitive , but being altrustic might help you . i think being a cancer explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be the scent of bubblegum, an abundance of house plants, and freshly baked cookies . ( cis female + she/her ) 

helloooooo ghouls, goblins, and everything in between. it’s ya girl aneesa or whatever fun nickname you wanna call me, and this is my child sunny! you can reach me via ims or catch me on discord at 𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐚 🦋☀#5408

* && 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐬

full name — sunshine carhmichael

nicknames — sunny (preferred name actually)

birthday — july 15

height  — 5′ 8″

age  — twenty-three (23)

pronouns — she/her/hers

occupation(s) — singer, record executive, fashion/cosmetics brand ceo, fashion designer, reality show star, & model

languages spoken — english (barely)

orientation — bisexual

* && 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀 𝑺𝑶 𝑭𝑨𝑹...

sunshine hawthorne grew up in the foster care system, according to the letter her mother left her, she was just a teenager with strict religious parents who threw her out the minute they learned of her pregnancy, and sunshine’s father was nowhere to be seen, and giving sunshine up was easier than living on the streets trying to fend for herself and a child

SEXUAL & PSYCHICAL ABUSE TW growing up in the foster care system was a lot, she bounced from family to family, and the things that happened were unspeakable. sometimes the abuse was physical, emotional, or sexual and it just caused a lot of deep personal trauma for herself that was never resolved

this caused her to become reserved, stuck up for the underdog even if it was at her own expense, just intrinsically unselfish, has always been the mom friend to a fault

she was 10 when she got adopted into an extremely wealthy family, like i’m talking top ten wealthiest families in the states, and suddenly sunny hawthorne became sunny carmichael 

so let’s take a minute to talk about the carmichael’s 

they originate from old money, i’m talking so far back it’s unclear whether or not the money they have was obtained legally or not, this caused her parents to be a little reckless w their spending

her father: sebastian carmichael is the one who inherited the wealth from his father, who inherited it from his father, and the cycle continues, he was addicted to gambling add that to the fact that he was a serial cheater and you have an extremely poor father figure

ALCOHOL & DRUGS TW her mother: davina carmichael was a drug dependent alcoholic who spent all of husband’s money to makeup for the fact that he was cheating on her, started her own billion dollar company from scratch, plans on ‘giving it’ to sunny

the carmichaels were very problematic and all of their scandals were extremely public, in fact the only reason they adopted sunny in the first place was so that they could appear more well-rounded then they were

after that would come give siblings, and it fell upon sunny to take care of all of them, so from a young age she acted extremely mature, learned to fend for herself, and still managed to have a soul flourishing with tender spots

sunny was a gifted kid, not academically, she struggled A LOT, she had trouble paying attention, couldn’t read as well as the other kids. she got teased a lot for being ‘dumb’ and honestly hated it, it’s one of her biggest insecurities to this day. but what she lacked academically she made up for artistically, she was musically inclined, and it was clear that she loved to draw (apparent from all the doodles in the margins of her notebooks)

her family capitalized on this as if she were some sideshow attraction, come see our daughter! look how good she is at painting and doodling! pay us money! and although it made her feel like some trophy the could polish and show off, and this messed up sunshine even more because she knew deep down they didn’t love her

in high school she was the bubbly ditzy popular girl, chewed on enough bubblegum to finance a new mercedes, and just was that stereotypical girl ripped straight out of an early 00′s movie

was on the cheerleading team because again i tell you she was just living her best teen life! having an amazing time! vibing!

although her parents could give her anything they wanted and were decent enough to pay the bills for her and her siblings, she wanted to provide for herself, not have to depend on her parents for anything

she got into modeling! and although t took her a while to find her footing eventually she did, and it was a great time! but eventually parents got jealous and made her quit modeling altogether, because god forbid that she get more attention than they did

eventually (and to everyone’s surprise lmao) she went to college, and somehow got accepted into an ivy league....for art! not as surprising, but her family lied and said she went to business school bc of course they did

she went to harvard and majored in visual arts, she got her degree, and got her her happy ass out of there, mostly stayed focused on her studies, occasional party here and there

she was extremely worried about her siblings and she immediately went back home to them, surprisingly they were in one piece, not surprisingly they were being raised by nannies

she applied her visual arts degree and started designing clothes, then modeling said clothes, because although her parents had enough money to get her company off the ground, she wanted to do it by herself

and she did! finally bringing a decent name to the carmichael family!

was a guest judge on a bunch of modeling/runway shows, occasionally starred in her family’s reality tv show against her will, and was so dynamic she would be offered her own, and of course she jumped at the opportunity! 

her mother tried handing off the company to her, and she declined! instead she opened up her own company selling her designs and was very hands on in learned to make cosmetics, and her company has been doing extremely well so far, it’s set to surpass her family’s company in a couple of years

as if she didn’t have enough on her plate she wanted to pursue her singing career, ended up having a whirlwind romance w a singer that she collaborated with, they were pretty serious and talked about being engaged, but eventually things fizzled out

said romance inspired a lot of her music, and encouraged her to keep going with her music career, she even worked her way up to the title of executive of their label, she’s on top of the world

she’s come a long way from the shy girl from foster care who afraid of her own shadow, but she’s lost none of her softness!

still extremely charitable and even started multiple charities all ranging from helping fund the foster care system to providing more funding for no kill shelters (she’s a vegan!) all of her charities are nation wide and oh boy does she have a lot on her plate

has....literally no time for anything else....still tries to prove to herself that she’s definitely not stressed and has so much free time! sdflksj tries to party and have fun, but mostly craves staying inside and takes baths with scented candles and just watches the same romcom over and over again 

* && 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭

....okay so maybe it’s not completely believable that she got into an ivy league with her own merit, after all she’s not the sharpest tool in the shed and spoiler alert she didn’t

her parents bribed an admissions counselor to let their daughter in their visual arts program, they even donated enough money to renovate the art museum 

all of this happened without sunny’s knowledge and she continues to live in blissful ignorance about the whole thing

* && 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

zodiac — cancer rising, cancer sun, & scorpio moon

alignment — lawful good

mbti — infp-t

enneagram — type 2 ( the helper )

temperament — phlegmatic

house — hufflepuff

positive traits — ( + ) altruistic , committed , conceptual , curious , courteous , determined , generous , humble , inventive , imaginative , loyal , loving , organized , passionate , playful , reliable , selfless , supportive , thoughtful , and trustworthy

negative traits — ( - ) anxious , cautious , compulsive , critical , disorganized , dogmatic ,, hyperactive , indifferent , insecure , impulsive , logical , oblivious , pedantic , protective , and resilient

* && 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

please don’t feel limited by this list because i have a brain the size of a walnut and this is all i can think of these are almost all ripped off ryker’s intro bc i’m not creative

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑨𝑳....

family friends  maternal or paternal cousins

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪...

past crush  current crush  flirtationship except she prolly doesn’t realize bc head empty  unrequited love ( on either side )  fwbs  will they? won’t they?  someone her friends are trying to set her up with  forbidden love of some kind idk maybe not  exes on good terms  exes on bad terms  first love high school or college romances  summer romance  childhood crush friends to lovers  pr relationship somebody who leads her on 

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪...

BEST FRIEND / ROOMMATE PLOT BASED ON NEW GIRL OR FRIENDS PLS I WILL GIVE YOU MY EVERYTHING  best friends  confidants  ride or die sibling like friends  close friends  neighbors??  enemies to friends  reunited childhood friends drunk / party friends  someone she’s a good influence on  bad influence  unlikely friends  secret friends, aka friends who do not hang around in the public eye as their family or friends may not get along  #married....just they argue and love each other like a married couple

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑵𝑬𝑮𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬...

enemies  former best friends  frenemies

[capmackie]

truth hurts (not as much as losing you)

sambucky week ‘19 day vi: touch / mission gone wrong (avengers if you squint) @sambuckyevents

They aren’t even fully on the battlefield yet before the mad scientist is firing away.

It’s AIM this time, Bucky briefly remembers, ducking for cover as some kind of goo whizzes past his head. But who cares — it’ll always be someone; some secret organization, some alien, someone Tony Stark wronged — the point is there will always be a fight.

To be honest, Bucky’s really fucking over it.

But before he gets to lament the alien scientist with a gold gun, shooting what looks like jello — seriously, what even is his life right now? — he sees Steve get hit right in the mouth with it.

Next, Wanda.

Springing into action, Bucky follows the scientist’s line of sight, eyeing her next target: Sam. In two seconds flat, he covers the entire base of the now leveled city, making it just in time to knock Sam out of the way, only to be hit with the substance instead.

And it ain’t jello.

The first thing Bucky notices is that whatever it is smells horrible. A putrid kind of smell, like rotting flesh. It’s sticky, gelatinous in texture, stretching when Bucky vigorously tries to pull it off his face, only for it to snap back into place.

The second thing Bucky notices is that he’s currently sprawled on top of a bewildered Sam, eyes wide in confusion, then amusement at whatever is currently muffling Bucky’s mouth.

“If only I would’ve known that was all it took to shut you up.”

Bucky really, truly wishes he would’ve just let the goo hit Sam instead.

—

Being held in a containment chamber whilst being scrubbed within an inch of his life was the very last thing Bucky would’ve expected to happen to him today but alas. He honestly shouldn’t be as bothered, it’s not even top five weirdest things that’s happened to him as an honorary Avenger.

The top spot belongs to Sam, who after months of being told by Bucky to ‘suck his dick’ as an insult, actually sucked his dick and well —

(Spots two to five belong to Sam as well; the two of them quickly figuring out the incessant need to push each other’s buttons was only a cover for the mountain of sexual tension between them.)

But that was the past and Sam has someone else he’s sweet on now. Someone normal and not an Avenger and not a super-solider with a lifetime worth of issues — three lifetimes actually.

And Bucky’s happy for him, happy that his friend can experience as much normalcy as someone in their shoes could possibly experience. And if there’s something, something clawing at the back of his throat, itching to come out, to say things like “he’s not right for you” or “he’ll never understand you” or “he has terrible style”, well that’s no one’s business but his own.

The sound of FRIDAY calling his name breaks Bucky out of his distraction. He’s experienced a myriad of emotions when it comes down to Sam, but jealousy is new. Jealously is unfamiliar, irritating, prickles at his skin whenever he focuses on Sam’s new guy for too long.

“I have good news Sergeant Barnes”, the AI starts, voice calming. “We’ve discovered what the strange substance you’ve encountered is.”

There’s a whirring sound as FRIDAY boots up an adjacent monitor, cleanly labeling the compounds of the goo and their respective side effects.

Most of the chemicals are indeed alien but the ones Bucky readily recognizes causes alarm.

FRIDAY must sense the concern because she continues the evaluation, assuring Bucky that whatever he was hit with won’t hurt him but —

“It’s some kind of truth serum.”

As comforting as holographic, artificial intelligence can be, FRIDAY once again reassures Bucky that he’ll be okay but confirms that he was indeed, doused with a short-acting truth serum of sorts.

The technicalities of the serum are lost on Bucky — he barely catches that the effects, if any, might kick in suddenly and then subside just as quickly.

No, he’s too busy rearranging his list, putting ‘getting hit with truth serum’ at number three, replacing the time he once rimmed Sam till the man cried.

—

Locking himself in his room is obviously the best and most adult option Bucky has in his arsenal.

He can’t trust his mouth now that the serum has started to affect him. His temperature is elevated, he feels light and giddy in a way one would never associate with the Winter Soldier. He’s been annoyingly honest — and well, yeah, but it kinda ruins the ‘quiet storm’ persona he’s adopted and ran with.

In the time it took to leave the lab and make it to his room, Bucky’s assured multiple Avengers that he didn’t actually hate them, very few believed it, but it was true. He told Steve he was an idiot — harsh, but also, true.

He even complimented Sam on his date night attire and — there was that jealousy again. Unfamiliar and irritating and stretching him taut like a live wire’s running through him. But there’s something else there too, vibrating underneath his skin, it’s frequency so high, Bucky’s surprised the windows haven’t combusted yet. It’s right on the tip of his tongue, etching into his brain, begging to be acknowledged.

But Bucky doesn’t. He wishes Sam well on his date and goes back to his room, locking it behind him.

—

It’s late when Bucky finally leaves his den.

He’s itching for some water, itching for some relief from both the effects of the serum — fever, restlessness, the need to be as soul-baringly honest as possible — and the dormant emotions regarding Sam.

And as if the universe is purposely fucking with him, he runs right into one Sam Wilson in the kitchen, opening a bottle of water and taking a long drink.

The visual of it all is overwhelming— Sam’s throat bared, the way his arms deliciously stretch the fabric of the navy polo, the way he smiles at Bucky — sticky and sweet, just like honey.

“How was your date?”

The words are out before Bucky’s mind even begins to process them. But it’s fine, Bucky truly, honestly wants to know how Sam’s evening was.

Wants to know where he went

Wants to know if Sam enjoyed himself

“Does new guy make you feel like I do?”

And by the way Sam's eyes go a bit wide, the way his arm stops in mid-air just as he goes to take another sip, turning to face Bucky full-on now, Bucky knows he asked that last question out loud.

But he can’t help himself now, it’s like the floodgates have been broken, he needs to know.

“Do you ever think about us?”

It’s a loaded question and Bucky really doesn’t mean to come on so strong, but apparently, a lesser-known side effect of the serum is being as blunt as possible, exhibiting a brashness Bucky knows he’s never had before.

“Give me one night and you’ll never think about him again.”

And that, that truly gets a reaction out of Sam. Normally, so cool, so calm, Bucky can clearly see the effect his words are having on the man.

His pupils are blown back, the brown of the irises almost completely hidden. Sam isn’t smiling; there’s no humor to him now, no witty comeback, so smart-ass retort. And that does something to him.

Closing the distance between them, Bucky settles his hands on Sam’s hip — one flesh and one metal, and pulls the smaller man closer, flush to his chest.

Bending down to lick the shell of Sam’s ear, Bucky pulls back, whispering, “I can treat you better than him.”

Pushing even closer, the cabinet groaning in protest at the added weight, Bucky murmurs, “I can fuck you better than him.”

The kitchen is quiet, save for the sound of Sam sharply sucking in a breathe. But Sam’s rarely flustered for too long.

“How about you show me, old man?”

—

When Bucky awakes, tangled in Sam, he knows the truth serum is slowly ebbing away.

He doesn’t feel as warm, doesn’t feel as uneasy as he did last night, doesn’t remember much of the past 24 hours to be honest.

But he does remember cornering Sam, does remember the taste of Sam’s tongue in his mouth, the taste of cinnamon gum and cinnamon whiskey making his knees weak. He remembers landing in bed with Sam but he distinctly remembers feeling so light, so high in Sam’s embrace, that he’s sure he flew away at some point too.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Sam’s morning voice is beautiful like he is, deep and sensual. Bucky wants to hear that voice first thing in the morning for as many mornings as he’s allowed. And with the last bit of the truth serum still in his bloodstream, Bucky tells Sam exactly that.

He doesn’t stop there either.

“I want to watch the sun kiss your skin as you wake up and I want to follow suit.”

Rolling over so he’s leaning over Sam, one hand propping him up, Bucky continues. “I know I don’t want to do this with anyone else, this is it for me.”

—

When it’s all said and done, Bucky knows this moment of haunting truthfulness is a bit much — he and Sam only just gradually making the transition from enemies to lovers and for Bucky to spring something so heavy and so sudden — and oh god, what if Sam doesn’t feel the same way —

No, when Bucky looks back at this moment, he won’t remember the blush that crept over him after the confession, won’t remember how the hand that hovered over Sam’s ribs, fingertips lightly brushing the other man’s skin, shook — he won’t even remember Sam’s morning breath.

The only thing he’ll remember from the day he and Sam made things official would be the way his boyfriend smiled up at him, kissing him gently and then urgently, rolling him onto his back, gaining the upper hand.

“Man, I thought you’d never ask me out.”

[flying-elliska]

Have you ever got that feeling that being bisexual is like having a double life? Like you can enjoy straight things and culture but you can also enjoy from the LGBTQ+ community. Sometimes I feel like a double agent and I feel privileged in the community because there is the possibility of not being judged if I decide to date someone who has a different sexual orientation than me. I feel like I’ve been too brainwashed after reading how bisexuality is being “half straight half gay”

It’s like living in a gray zone where you feel like you have to play for either team, but you don’t identify with either of them. And I was reading some discurse in radical lesbian pages that say that we only bring trouble by bringing men into the LGBTQ+ community. It really got to me and now I question what is my position there. Sorry if I bother you with these questions, but you’re the one I’ve seen that can tackle these kind of issues sensibly.

Hey, don’t worry anon you’re not bothering me, thanks for trusting me with these sort of issues.

Bisexuality is its own sexuality and it is fully valid on its own and part of the LGBTQ community on its own, no matter who your long term partner is. You don’t have to pick a side. LGBTQ culture is yours, as much as you want it to be. Bi people have been there at its onset and still are - for instance, the woman who organized the first Pride march, Brenda Howard, was a bisexual rights activist ! Of course, there is a small but vocal minority of the community that derives their clout from wanting to exclude others (be it bi, trans, ace people…) who are not up to their purity standards. To me, this vision of community as a small set of resources to be hoarded and defended from those who are not oppressed/deserving enough is extremely damaging (and ultimately plays into the hands of conservative ppl who hate us all but love seeing us tear each other apart.) Honestly I would stay away from radical feminism shit if I were you, that stuff can be extremely toxic for bi women (and plays into super crappy essentialist visions of gender). You are not ‘bringing men into the LGBT+ community’ anyway (lol there are already plenty of men there ! trans men ! bi men ! gay men !) and even if your partner is a straight dude, I think as long as he knows how to be respectful, there is nothing wrong with that. You’re not straight, your relationship isn’t straight. The mentality of ‘us vs the rest of the world’ is often, I think, born out of trauma, and there is a lot of that to go around, but some people choose to take it out on other people instead of choosing healing. Also this idea that men are necessarily horrible dangerous people ‘polluting with their presence’ is just...bad on so many levels (women can be terrible too lmao). Having women centric spaces can be helpful and great for certain things, but the LGBTQ community should be more expansive than that. I mean - if you go that way, there are trans people with opposite sex partners too, should they not bring them to Pride either ? It’s a very slippery slope there, and it goes down to a garbage chute where we start overanalyzing each other and our sexual behaviors that starts to resemble a 19th century Puritan village which is...completely nuts, for real. 

 My perspective is that the more we grow as a community, the more people realize that they might not have been as straight as they think they are, the more powerful we are. You are not taking anything away from anyone or anything, you’re not polluting or invading. Your story and earnestness in love are an asset to the community. This diversity is what makes us strong and beautiful. Of course, we might be joined by people whose same sex attraction is rare, people who earlier in human history might have been closeted, even to themselves their whole lives. But this freer society is giving them the opportunity to be honest about the full extent of their capacity to love, and I think that’s beautiful. This need to draw lines can be so toxic for questioning people, too. Human sexuality is often a fuzzy, fluid, complicated thing, for a lot more people than we are willing to admit. 

Besides, axes of oppression don’t only work along sexuality lines. It’s much more complex than that. And even if yes, things might be easier for you in certain respects if you are in a ‘straight passing’ relationship, and it is important to recognize that ; if you have to dismiss your sexuality, if you’re not able to be open and are pressured into sweeping a whole part of your identity under the rug, if you’re not taken seriously and excluded from a community that is important to you, then that can cause a lot of damage and mental health issues. Being bisexual is a specific LGBTQ experience which comports challenges of its own ; the insecurity and pressure to ‘choose’ is part of the burden. Not having the exact same experiences as a lesbian doesn’t make you ‘less valid’. One sign of that is that bi people are a lot less likely to be out and a lot more likely to have mental health issues, and I very much think those two are linked. 

Anyway, if i have to give any advice - some parts of the LGBTQ community are shitty, esp those who play the ‘you must be this oppressed to ride’ game. But there are also some that can be wonderful. If you have the opportunity, it could be a really empowering experience to get in touch with your local, specifically bi community (it was for me), read bi focused books or stories of other people ; to help you grow your own sense of confidence in your own sexuality. My hope is that in the future, as bisexuality is represented more fully in the media and more bi people are open and further generations grow without those toxic ‘either/or’ mindsets, this damaging feeling of being double agents/having to pick a side will fade. And that we have a more distinct sense of bi pride/culture etc without being continually erased or seen as gay/straight by default. 

At the same time, of course…I think it’s very much part of the human experience to navigate between social environments where the microcultures and codes are different. You don’t behave similarly with your parents and your friends, I’m sure, or at school or a party, but neither of these things are dishonest ! So there is nothing wrong with behaving a little differently when you’re surrounded by queer friends and making references to a specific culture. You’re not dishonest and you’re not in hiding, it’s just a different part of you that is coming to the front. And you can bring your own bisexual self and experiences to LGBTQ spaces, as well, to make it richer and more diverse. If you can’t…that’s a bad sign. 

And finally…living in a ‘grey zone’, a more liminal space, can be a wonderful thing in itself ! It’s sort of amazing to be able to be attracted to people no matter what their gender is, don’t you think ? Or to be attracted to different genders in different ways ? I actually think it’s really fucking cool to be bisexual. Despite the stigma and the headache it is, often, I wouldn’t change it for the world. It can be such an exhilarating experience realizing you don’t have to reproduce heteronormative patterns in your life, that you can find similar things attractive across genders, or not at all… I just find it so interesting and so freeing. Especially since as women we are given such a narrow view of what we are supposed to find attractive and how to be attractive and how to do relationships. And to me being bi just helped blow that shit up sky wide. And it allows us to stand in solidarity with other minorities who are not always given their space in LGBTQ spaces. Honestly, the few bi spaces I’ve been in were so much more open, making efforts to be accomodating to people with disabilities issues, were so much more diverse in terms of gender/class/race/culture/body type etc…I’m not saying all bi spaces are inherently superior but I feel like bi people, at least those i’ve met, are often more prone to think about those questions and it’s been absolutely delightful. Because we understand what it’s like to stand at an intersection and not feel entirely part of something, and so we want to foster spaces where people can be themselves in all their myriad identities, and that this feeling of ‘being at a crossroads’ can be so rich and beautiful. 

 I hope you can find that same sense of pride and certainty in yourself. Of course, it’s not always going to be easy, and I understand these doubts. You are definitely not alone with them. I mean, we say we don’t have to choose, but we do have to make choices in where to look for partners, for instance. I hope you can listen to your desires without crowding them out with pressure from outside, and follow your heart where it leads you. 

[natsumiheart]

100 reasons why I (personally) OTP Oumasai:

Warning: this is an extremely long post.

1. In the beginning of the game Shuichi normally didn't talk much during introductions, let alone be the one to start talking without being addressed to, but when Kokichi revealed his ultimate, he actually got curious and jumped in asking about his organization.

2. It is proven that he really was interested in it as he asks about it later in Kokichi's free time events.

3. Kokichi was interested in Shuichi at first because he was a detective and he wanted to see if he can see through his lies, but then got attached to him because "he couldn't figure him out".

4. Kokichi was probably amused by how nice he was to him (by actually approaching him and hanging out with him) compared to the others.

5. In chapter 2 Shuichi woke up to find Kokichi above him, saying that he's glad he's finally awake (makes me wonder if he got worried when Gonta came in with an unconscious Shuichi, and if he stayed by his side the whole time).

6. At multiple points in the game, Shuichi actually comments on how innocent Kokichi looks compared to his words, saying he can't get mad at him because he looks like he means no malice, then says "but that might just be another lie..."

7. During the free time events, Kokichi literally plays 100 rounds of Rock Paper Scissors with Shuichi because he wants to show him that he actually does not want him to die or to hurt him in general.

8. And probably because he genuinely has fun hanging out with him, even if it means playing the same game 100 times and getting the same result on purpose (and Shuichi did not stop either!)

9. The freaking fact that he hurt himself on purpose to lose and let Shuichi "win".

10. THE FREAKIN FACT SHUICHI IMMEDIATELY GOT WORRIED AND WENT TO TEND HIM FRANTICALLY.

11. The fact Kokichi was laughing "like he was having the time of his life" (as Shuichi said) the whole time Shuichi was taking care of him.

12. "I stole your heart so now I'm satisfied!"

13. The persona freakin vibes, the detective Conan freakin vibes. THE PHANTOM THIEF AU.

14. THEIR FREAKING DYNAMIC.

15. The fact that Kokichi's free time events were one big scheme to make Shuichi think about him.

16. When Kaede hung out with Kokichi, she got pissed in the end and the FTE ended with a warning from Kokichi. But with Shuichi, it ended with such a heartwarming note because Shuichi was patient with him and actually cared for him and worried about him.

17. Kokichi called Kaede and Rantaro his beloved once in chapter 1 after they were dead, but called Shuichi his beloved from chapter 2 onwards in front of him.

18. PROBABLY TO MAKE SURE THAT SHUICHI NEVER REALISES THAT HE MEANS IT CAUSE HE WILL THINK EVERYTHING HE SAYS IS A LIE.

19. Shuichi is the only one, and I repeat the only one who thinks twice about Kokichi's lies. And I quote him saying multiple times "he's lying about lying..."

20. Whenever Kokichi has evidence the one he always reaches out to is Shuichi. During trials and investigations.

21. Shuichi is onto him during the trials and acknowledges how much of a help he is. One time he said "maybe I should thank him later" but then backtracked.

22. In chapter 4 Kokichi referred to Shuichi with the phrase "Suki ni natta hito" "the person I fell in love with" while alone. and it's not even a bonus scene or event, the line is 100% canon and the player will come across it no matter what.

23.The👏angst👏starts👏in👏chapter👏four👏where👏kokichi👏decides👏to👏cut👏his👏ties👏with👏everyone👏including👏his👏beloved👏

24. But how does he do that? By trash talking the hell out of Shuichi's best friend in front of him, because he knows what pisses Shuichi off. Kokichi is not stupid, if he truly wanted Shuichi to trust him he wouldn't trash talk his friend. A part of him must have wanted Shuichi to be his ally, but it wasn’t possible after he told him to stop hanging around Kaito.

25.  His clinginess in chapter 4 was probably him trying to make use of the time he has left with Shuichi before it all crashes down. That’s why he talked to him after the murder has happened. He realized he didn’t want Shuichi questioning his actions.

26.  His worried face when he said he would cry if something happened to his Saihara chan.

27. The fact that their relationship wouldn’t be so pure because of the love hotel-

28. Kokichi was constantly worried about Kaito influencing Shuichi negatively and tried to drop him hints multiple times that sometimes believing in each other and working together might get them all killed.

29. The fact Kokichi freaking called Shuichi the Japanese sweet "Shumai" just like Kaito calls Maki "Harumaki" IS REALLY HECKIN ADORABLE AND VALID.

30. It just seems like they are both very interested in each other. Like they are each other's puzzle. They want to know more about each other.

31. And honestly, their relationship is just so very cute.

32. Kokichi's interest in Shuichi, says a lot about him.

33. And let's talk about something... Kokichi has always been treated like shit in the killing game by his friends. No one trusted him, everyone turned on him when Rantaro accused him of wanting to play the killing game because he suggested not doing the death road of despair. And he took all the blame to stop Kaede from basically torturing everyone by forcing them to try again and again. And he always brushed it off whenever they said anything mean to him. So why do you think he had such a strong reaction (for someone like Kokichi) when Shuichi said "you're alone and you always will be"?

34. Kokichi had planned to make Shuichi hate him cause he was planning to impersonate the mastermind, he needed to cut his ties with everyone. So when he did so with Shuichi, and with his best friend and probably the only person he can trust in the killing game getting killed. It became too much for him so he booked it out. Ah the angst.

35. Later in the game, Shuichi calls Kokichi his friend. And want do friends do? Stay by each other's side.

36. And then the salmon team ending comes along and wraps it all by making the ending theme "staying by each other's side"

37. "you want to know more about me right? Then you should stay by my side." "Kokichi's right... I want to know more about him."

38. In the ending of the FTE's Shuichi says "I reach out my hand to Kokichi, but he doesn't take it" but then at the end of the salmon team ending he says "I reach out and grasp the hand reached out to me"

39. "Kokichi can lie about a lot of things, but he can't lie about the warmth of his hand."

40. THE DATES ARE ADORABLE THEIR INTERACTIONS ARE ADORABLE THE FTES ARE ADORABLE THE SALMON TEAM ENDING IS ADORABLE.

41. "Maybe you and I were lovers in a past life!"

42. Pregame👏oumasai👏is👏beautiful👏 (when people don't make it abusive holy shit yall need Jesus)

43. "SAIHARA CHAN!" "SAIHARA CHAN!" "SASUGA SAIHARA CHAN!!!!" 😂

44. Kokichi saw Shuichi as himself in the love hotel, his ideal version of Shuichi is Shuichi himself, NO CHANGES.

45. And the game makes it pretty clear that he saw HIS beloved, by all the connections between stuff he said in the hotel and stuff he said out of the hotel.

46. In chapter 3 if you decide to talk to Kokichi before checking in on Kaito, There is a really interesting conversation between them. Kokichi saying he would rather have Kaede come back to life because it would make Shuichi happy.

47. He also says that he loves Shuichi and is always thinking about him, but then he says its a lie. But the funny thing is, in the love hotel he actually says the exact same thing- and he has no control over the love hotel, everything there is g e n u i n e.

48. Kokichi's love hotel scene had the most voiced lines, I wonder why? 👀

49. Kokichi literally pushed Shuichi onto a bed, in a freaking love hotel.

50. "that means, you can do anything you want to me, and that's the truth"

51. The thing that makes Kokichi's love hotel the most interesting isn't only because he literally was with the person he was in love with, but it's also because it is implied that Kokichi is playing Shuichi's ideal instead.

52. KOKICHI FREAKIN GOT OVERWHELMED OVER HIS OWN FEELINGS BECAUSE HE HAS A HARD TIME TRUSTING PEOPLE AND RAN AWAY FROM HIS OWN FANTASY OMFG.

53. "I caught myself wishing he would stay before I smothered the thought"

54. Kokichi has a hard time trusting people but had Shuichi labeled as "trustworthy?" on the whiteboard in his room.

55. His "will" was literally directed towards Shuichi, even Maki knew because she went to Shuichi and gave it to him saying "I think this is for you".

56. Shuichi was the one to clear Kokichi's name from ultimate despair.

57. He seemed really interested in what was going through Kokichi's head the entire game.

58. The fact that Kokichi helped Shuichi so much, with literally ending the game even after he's dead.

59. They would make an amazing investigation team together....

60. Their interactions in the drv3 comic anthology are really freaking precious.

61. They feel valid but not forced at the same time. Just showing that they get along really well, without any repetition.

62. The fact that the comic anthology confirmed that Shuichi tries to calm Kokichi down whenever he's fake crying even though he knows it's fake...

63. It reminds me of how in the game he stated multiple times "maybe I should make sure he's alright"

64. And that one section that focused on Shuichi and Kokichi, where Shuichi was trying to use a lie detector that Miu made to know when Kokichi is lying.

65. Kokichi let him use it on him for a while until Shuichi asked about the organization to get information XD

66. That just shows again how Shuichi is interested in Kokichi and his organization and wants to figure him out. The same way Kokichi finds him tricky and wants to figure HIM out.

67. They look really good together! The height difference for example! Its legit perfect, not too much and not too low.

68.  Kokichi wearing mostly white while Shuichi wears mostly black. and that’s a bit interesting cause normally white is given to represent the pure and helpful characters while black is normally given to represent the dark “evil” characters. but here Kokichi who is trusted by no one and paints himself as the bad guy is wearing white, and Shuichi who everyone blindly believes in and trust is wearing black, makes you think, doesn’t it?

69.  The dark blue and purple aesthetic...

70. Their characters are meant to parallel each other with the truth and lies theme, and the game makes that very clear to the player. but sometimes they step in each others territory, where Shuichi has to lie at least once in every trial to progress, and Kokichi hiding a lot of truths in his lies to make everyone confused and not trust him. to me this dynamic between them is very interesting.

71. The fanfictions and fanart are adorable fight me, some people can write their relationship so freakin well? What are you people???? Gods?? Because it sure seems like it.

72. It has the right amount of angst and fluff for a ship, it has everything I've wanted in a ship, I love it.

73. The thief and the detective... Lies and truths... Good shit.

74. Kokichi looks really freaking adorable in Shuichi's hat y'all.

75. Just imagine dice getting in trouble with the police and Shuichi finding a way to bail them out, since they trust the detective.

76. Kokichi, the embodiment of lying, CONSIDERED TO STOP WITH LYING BECAUSE HE WANTED TO GET CLOSER TO SHUICHI. WHY DOES NOBODY TALK ABOUT THIS.

77. "What should I do... If I wanna become closer to Shuichi... I probably shouldn't lie so much..."

78. When Shuichi said he will get to tolerate his lying Kokichi felt guilty at first with his despair sprite being shown.

79. But then got happy when he realized that meant that Shuichi will accept him for who he is. And when he saw that Shuichi understands him and can see through his lies anyway.

80. "Maybe I was born into this world just to meet you, Shuichi."

81. During Kokichi's FTE's they were playing games and spending time together right? Like the time they drank tea XD well during the love hotel Kokichi says "come, play with me, let's do a lot more together" and "I'll think of a better game for next time, so make sure you excite me too". Aka: Kokichi just told us his true feelings.

82. "I'm so glad I met someone who can truly understand me"

83. The fact that Kokichi is like a cat that constantly wants attention and keeps flirting with his beloved, notice me Saihara chan.

84. THEIR JP VOICES GO ALONG REALLY WELL TOGETHER WTF. I’ve also come to appreciate how Kokichi has the deeper voice in jp with Shuichi with the feminine lighter voice. but it’s the opposite in English.

85. It's kinda funny how Shuichi keeps trying to figure him out while Kokichi just keeps flirting with him 😂 probably making him even more confused.

86. To Kokichi who could predict everything, Shuichi's unpredictability fascinated him to the point he fell in love with him.

87. Unlike everyone, Shuichi is patient with Kokichi, but not too patient. He is the exact person Kokichi needs.

88. And it makes total sense why a trickster fell in love with a sweet detective.

89. "and I wanted your eyes to be on me..."

90. Kokichi deserves someone who would love him for being himself and its shown that Shuichi did fall for him in the salmon team.

91. SHUICHI'S BLUSH WHEN KOKICHI TOLD HIM THAT HE KNOWS HIS LIES NEVER BORED HIM.

92. Shuichi👏wants👏to👏know👏more👏about👏Kokichi👏

93. Kokichi👏wants👏to👏be👏Shuichi's👏everything👏

94. this is completely personal but I started off the game being confused about the ship, and became a hardcore supporter by the end of it. Which means its a heckin good ship if you ask me.

95. Pretty sure Shuichi is one of the only reasons for Kokichi to genuinely smile in a killing game.

96. This ship can make me cry from sadness because of the sad videos, or from happiness from fluffy fanfictions and fanart.

97. Kokichi is completely in love and is enamored by Shuichi it hurts. His love for Shuichi is valid, so freaking valid, 100% valid, more valid than my existence.

98. I love the bonus interactions between them hidden throughout the chapters, like the one where Kokichi tells Shuichi that everything he does is for everyone. It seems that he is only honest with Shuichi, but of course hides it as a lie.

99. Kokichi wanted Shuichi to join his organization, and called him interesting multiple times. Which is really important coming from someone like Kokichi who wasn't fond of most of the people in the killing game. 

100. Their relationship is very realistic, it is focused on how two characters try their best to understand each other, how even someone like Kokichi can come to trust in someone and want someone to trust in him, how he wants that someone to be able to understand him. Kokichi went from being interested in Shuichi to falling in love with him (literally referring to him as the person he fell in love with, using the same phrase that Maki says to Kaito later on), in a freaking killing game. he forced himself to cut their ties and died thinking the only person he cared about hated him. while Shuichi started off interested but wary of Kokichi, tried reaching out to him but failed due to Kokichi pushing him away, to getting mad from him for making Gonta a murderer and trash talking Kaito when he seemed in a really bad condition (after getting punched by Kokichi too) to hitting cold hard realization to what Kokichi has been trying to do the whole game after his death. and then appreciating his help, using the clues he left behind for him, clearing his name, calling him a friend, and grieving his death with the rest of his friends who died in the killing game. He then uses everything Kokichi gave to him and taught him, ends up understanding Kokichi and his lies, and uses the tactic he taught him where he said “sometimes you win a game by not playing it” to end danganronpa. then you’re left wondering how things could’ve been different if Shuichi didn’t already have so much on his back and tried harder to reach out to Kokichi. you start wondering what could’ve happened if Kokichi didn’t push him away, you start thinking about all these possibilities. and then salmon team comes along and wraps everything up with a ribbon. putting direct throwbacks to what happened in the killing game and the free time events, Kokichi BEING the one to reach out to Shuichi, asking him to stay by his side. Their relationship is like one huge arc that starts the moment they met to their graduation in salmon team, and it leaves you with the fact that after they graduate they will stay together and learn more about each other, just like both of them wanted but couldn’t do in the killing game. if this isn’t a beautiful realistic relationship, I don’t know what is. Honestly, everything about this ship is so very beautiful, and I will support it with my life.

[hobiboo1]

The DUFF

the duff au // college au // future smut // humour // basketball player jungkook // dancer jimin // best friends jin + taehyung

Your annoying neighbour and childhood friend, Jungkook, strikes a deal with you to help you get the attention of your crush, Jimin, if you help him pass his philosophy class.

warnings: sexual content, drinking, swearing, use of the words ‘fat’ and ‘ugly’

@hobijoon @baepsaetan @rimuslymoony @lordofassgard

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; 

Part 1:

It was no secret Kim Seokjin and Kim Taehyung were two of the best-looking humans to ever grace this godforsaken campus, and it was no secret that they were your best friends. The three of you were practically attached at the hip or rather… hips. See, the thing is, neither Jin nor Taehyung were always sex gods. In fact, Taehyung was bullied by an upperclassman for a little while in preschool and that upperclassman happened to be Jin, who turned out to be projecting his own experiences onto the little nerdy tater-tot that was the young Taehyung. It was after class that you heard a yelp coming from the boys’ bathroom and, being young and pure at heart, you didn’t hesitate to check it out- finding Taehyung shoved up against the sinks, Jin holding him by the collar.

“Hey!” You remember yelling.

“What are you doing in here, yucky girl?” Jin taunted, letting go of Taehyung.

“What are you doing with Tae-Tae?”

Anyway, long story short, you’ve been best friends ever since then. They’ve always had your back and you’ve always had theirs. The fact that they were practically angels on Earth, with features that looked like they were painted by the masters, didn’t really have any affect on you. You never felt like an odd one out or anything… you just felt normal. Of course, in high school, the occasional person made a comment about you being out of their league, but mainly people wanted to be on your good side to get to them, hiding their intentions with great skill while momentarily making you feel special. There are countless examples of girls befriending you to get closer to them. Those things almost always ended up the same way, with them in Jin or Taehyung’s bed. You were always too ashamed to tell either of them how used you had felt and they were both too oblivious to see it as that.

In university, however, you didn’t have a problem with any of that childish shit. Everyone here seems so much more… ‘chilled’. Even Taehyung chilled out, only sleeping with one, maybe two, girls a week and limiting his alcohol intake to the weekend only… usually. Your relationship with him has also… evolved. Occasionally, and you mean occasionally, the two of would hook up, but that’s because you’re both now mature adults and, as Taehyung told Jin, you are both capable of ‘handling that shit’. Not to mention how undeniably good it is, which is why you both come back to it. But when the morning comes, it isn’t a big deal for him to roll out of your bed and pad tiredly across the living room to his, well, to his room. They aren’t just your best friends; Taehyung and Jin are now your roommates, too.

At first, you and Taehyung tried to keep it a secret, knowing how Jin would react, you always planned on telling him, the three of you practically shared everything and it was always a three or nothing dynamic. You still recall his lecture after he walked in on you and Taehyung cuddling naked in your sleep in Taehyung’s room.

“What is this?” He asked in a shrill voice.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung grunted after realizing what Jin had just walked in. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes to clear the sleep.

“Jin?” You asked after you managed to force your eyes open.

“I swear to god I’ll move out if you ever, and I mean EVER, keep me up with your gross sounds and shit.” He exclaimed, throwing his hands around passionately, his face getting red. He suddenly disappeared, leaving you and Taehyung sitting there with the blanket over your bare chests, watching the door in confusion. “Absolutely DISGUSTING,” You heard him muttering to himself. “Here!” Jin yelled, throwing a bunch of condoms from various labels over the two of you after he returned. “I fucking hate you both.” He whined loudly, slamming the door behind him.

But, truthfully, the thing between the two of you did nothing to interfere with your friendship, if it did, you would have ended it long ago. Hell, neither of you blinked an eye when the other one brought a person home, unless it meant an interruption to your movie night or something. Taehyung was fucking infamous for forgetting plans. In fact, Taehyung was probably the most active supporter of your big ass crush, constantly urging you to talk to him or shoving you in his direction whenever you saw him around campus… which was pretty often due to your shared classes. And it wasn’t even that often that you hooked up, only every couple of weeks when you found yourselves alone at the apartment and were both in the mood. Usually you’d just take the opportunity to watch Bachelor in Paradise because Jin would always veto it, giving some sob story of how it brings back memories of the terrifying world of high school dating and being pressurized to be with someone within a pretty shitty circle of people. The story never failed to make you and Taehyung roll your eyes. So yeah, usually, you’d both just revel in the chance to catch up on the admittedly terrible show that, somehow, had you both addicted. Sometimes you’d pause to give him a blowjob or because his cuddles turned too touchy, his hand slowly falling to your breasts, his long fingers slipping under your shirt to give your boob a squeeze, but you never failed to finish the episode.

“Taehyung!” You yell, smoke coming out of your ears, your footsteps loud as you stomp angrily to his room. Swinging his door open you are faced with a familiar sight of him sharing his bed with a beautiful girl, usually you’d spare a friendly ‘morning’, but right now you are way too angry.

“Morning, sunshine,” Taehyung teases, the snarl on your face obvious to the freshly woken prick head.

“Shut the fuck up,” You snap, “sorry.” you smile at the girl apologetically, realizing, while this is normal for this household, it may not be very normal for her.

“No proble-” She says softly but gets cut off by Taehyung’s raspy morning voice.

“If you’re looking for your portfolio, it’s on the toilet in my bathroom.” He tells you, noticing the way you are looking around his room like a mad woman.

“Your bathroom? You know what, I don’t give a fuck,” Your voice trails off from him as you disappear into his bathroom. “I told you to get this back to me last night!” You yell loud enough for him to hear you, then appearing in the bedroom again. “I’m fucking late, ass bag.”

“Have a good day!” He shouts happily so that you can hear him after you leave his room, the door banging loudly behind you, causing Jin to yell from his room.

“Hey! Shut up, you pigs!”

6:30 am. You were already 10 minutes late. You practically kick open the fifth door of the morning as you exit your apartment in a frantic rush, your body vibrating with nerves and three cups of coffee and no food. But instead of stepping into the passage of your apartment building, you step into something, or rather someone. You walk straight into a hard chest, fumbling backwards and hitting your door, the pages from your portfolio flying everywhere. Looking up, you finally manage to see who the person is. Jeon Jungkook.Your annoying ass neighbor who literally followed you from your hometown to a university you chose specifically to get away from everyone except Jin and Taehyung. He was the typical charming boy who won over every parent’s heart. The boy who turned out cute but was too daft to form a coherent sentence unless it was to get into a girl’s pants, the boy who became a high school jock, leaving you and your once decent friendship in the dirt to hang out with the ‘cool kids’ and smoke weed in the locker rooms.

“Shit,” He mumbles under his breath, immediately crouching to start collecting your scattered pages.

“Of course the reason you followed me across the country was to do things like this. Why is it you get such pleasure from fucking up my life, Jeon?” You ask, your body now also crouching, close enough to his to get a whiff of his fresh cologne while you rush to collect your work.

“Oh come on, Y/N,” You prepare yourself for the comeback you can already hear in his tone, “you know that’s not the reason.” He hums in disappointment making you look up and into his daring eyes, dark and playful as always. “I couldn’t survive without you as my neighbor, you give me confidence.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“You make me look good, babe.” He winks.

You scoff at his underhanded jab. Please, as if. You? Making Jungkook look good? Jungkook could barely make himself a bowl of cereal while you were working towards one of the top positions in your major.

“Whatever,” You hiss, grabbing the pages from his hands as you stand up. “Just try stay out of my way. Alright, Jeon?”

You don’t wait a second for his response before you’re rushing down the hall, stumbling over your feet as you try to organize your mess of work. Jungkook smiles fondly to himself.What a weird girl.

“You know I can’t stay away from you, Y/N!”

Seeing Jimin on campus took you by surprise, causing you to stumble back into the person behind you on the way out of lecture hall.

“Jesus Christ, woman,” The person grunted, shoving himself passed you. You couldn’t even get yourself to say sorry; you were way too focused on the head of blonde hair and the angelic smile that went with it.

What was he doing so early here on a Friday morning? Not that you’d worked out his timetable or anything… You shuffled behind one of the big shrubs just outside the door and watched as the boy walked across the quad from the opposite side, throwing his head back as his laughter rang itself all the way to your ears like a choir of church singers. He parted ways with the group of people he was walking with and started walking right in your direction. Realizing he was literally walking towards you, you dropped down in a panic, hiding from him before he could get a chance to see you. He, however, was soon enough standing beside you, clearing his throat. You slowly lift your head to look at him, your cheeks burning with desperate embarrassment. He smiled down at you with curiosity on his features and a slight tilt of his head.

“Oh, uh, Jimin! Hi!” You rush, standing up to your feet and dusting off your skirt, “I was just, uh, just relaxing after my lecture.”

“I’d say you’ve found a good spot,” He starts, his face friendly, but then he starts to reach one hand out to your face, causing you to get stuck on a breath. “But it looks like this bush wouldn’t like that.” He finishes in a joking, endearing tone, picking a leaf from your hair and flicking it to the side.

“Oh,” You laugh, hoping to god you don’t sound as awkward as you feel, and rake your hand through your hair to see if there are any more leaves.

“Hey, so I gotta run, but I came over here to ask if you wanted to come to a party tonight?” He asks, sliding his hands into the pockets of his chino shorts, which he matched with a white button up and red sneakers.

“A party? Yeah, I like parties. Go to them all the time.” You mentally slap yourself as soon as you say that.

Jimin chuckles, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen you and the boys around the town,” He smiles, his tone still interestingly jokey. You didn’t realize how airy he could be in actual conversation. “So yeah, my frat is throwing a party and… wait, you know my frat, right?”

“Yeah… I think so. Alpha Nu, right?” Of course you know his fucking frat.

“Yeah, that’s the one!” He grins and you get butterflies knowing you made him smile that way. “It starts at 7 but I’d recommend you only pitch around 9? That’s when things actually start getting fun,” He tells you, but cuts himself off, “that’s if you even wanna come, of course.” He smiles sheepishly. He’s so cute your heart might explode.

“Of course I do!” You let slip and clear your throat, “I mean, I’ll probably check it out after this other… thing… with, uh, Tae.”

Jimin’s eyes show a glimmer of excitement. Is this seriously happening?

“Awesome! See you there.” He smiles, squeezing your shoulder briefly before spinning around to leave. “Check you around, Y/N.”

Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. He knows your name.

Your smile practically splits your cheeks in half as you pull your phone out of your pocket and start walking. You start typing a message on your group chat with Taehyung and Jin when you walk into something hard again. And, telling from that voice you hear in your nightmares, it’s Jungkook again.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this,” He smirks, his hands on your upper arms to steady you. You shake out of his grip (when did he get so tall??) and roll your eyes.

“You know,” You begin, “at first I was just kidding when I called you a stalker, but now I’m really starting to get weary about you.”

Jungkook laughs, turning his head to the side and, you’re pretty sure, checking out the ass of the girl who just walked past you. “Um, excuse me?” You click your fingers in his face. “Good to see your attention span hasn’t increased one bit since high school.”

Has she always been this funny? “I’ll have you know, my attention span has always been fucking great. I could look at that ass all day.” He says, tilting his head to get one last glimpse of the girl.

You scoff and roll your eyes again. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Not really, he thinks, but he isn’t quite ready to walk away. “Why were you smiling like an idiot at your phone when you walked into me?”

You think for a second if Jungkook is worth the story, the words will probably slide down the water slide in his mind and right out his ear. But still, you can’t help but talk about Jimin whenever you get the opportunity. “I’ll have you know, I was just asked out by a very cute guy.”

“Jimin?” Jungkook frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s what supposed to mean?”

“That look on your face. You’re not always that ugly.”

Jungkook laughs like you’re a friend, teasing him like friends do. Which only has you rolling your eyes for the third time in the course of 3 minutes. “Just tell me, fuck head!” You punch his chest lightly.

“Ok, ok,” He raises his hands in defeat. “It’s just, I’m pretty sure he has a thing for Jin… I think he was talking to you because you’re the D.U.F.F.”

“What the fuck is ‘the D.U.F.F’?”

“You’re not serious are you? You’ve been the D.U.F.F since those friends of yours hit puberty.” Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused.

“I’m being serious, Jungkook, what is that?”

“The designated ugly fat friend,” He reveals, his tone normal as if he didn’t just say what he did.

“Excuse me?” You ask, bitterness on your tongue as you boil over with anger.

Jungkook immediately starts to look defensive, his hands coming up into the air once more in surrender. “Look it’s not a big deal it just means-”

“It’s not a big deal that you just called me fat and ugly?” You yell whisper as a professor walks past you.

“No, I didn’t call you that!”

“That’s exactly what you said, Jean Fuckhead.”

“The D.U.F.F is just the least attractive friend in a friend group,” He says like that makes the whole thing mean nothing.

“Oh, so you’re just saying that I’m the ugliest one amongst my friends?” You ask spitefully.

“Yes, yes, that’s all I’m saying!” He smiles, relieved you finally ‘get’ what he’s saying. But when he sees your face contorting with even more anger (which he didn’t think possible at this point) he realizes how that, too, came out. “No, I mean, you’re not ugly, you’re just not as attractive as Jin and Taehyung.”

You stay silent for a little bit. It’s pretty much impossible to be more attractive than Jin or Taehyung. “Ok… so, that has nothing to do with Jimin asking me to his party.” You try convincing him and yourself. Of course, it is very much public knowledge that Jimin is bi, and… Jin is obviously very hot… and he tutors Jimin… But then why would he ask only you? Why wouldn’t he ask you to invite Jin as well?

“Y/N,” Jungkook sighs condescendingly and you want to kick him in the nuts, “that’s what the D.U.F.F does… they’re the gateway friend to their hotter friends”

“Shut up, and would you stop calling me the fucking D.U.F.F?” You push yourself past him. “That isn’t even a thing.”

Jungkook stops you with a strong hand around your wrist. You let out a breath and turn to look at him, “What?”

“I wasn’t trying to insult you-”

“Save it, Jeon.” You wiggle your wrist from his grip and turn to walk away, putting both your middle fingers up to flip the dickhead behind you off.

Jungkook smiles, funny.

You unlock your phone again and see the message you started typing:

To ‘mains’:

JIMIN JUST INVITED ME TO A PARTY!!

You groan and delete it, stuffing your phone back into your pocket grumpily.It was always a mystery to you how Jungkook managed to be so popular. Like, college is full of people. Thousands of them. It’s pretty difficult to manage to get people to give a shit about you, yet, here he was. Apparently he was ‘hot’ or something. To you, it was all bullshit. You reckoned someone like Yoongi, the overwhelmingly talented music major and Jungkook’s friend (he never could be friends with guys his own age, could he?), should be the name everyone knew, not someone who could bounce a ball on a court and had abs and was… ‘good looking’.

“Good looking my ass,” You grumble through a mouth full of salad.

“Who’s licking your ass?” Jin asks, faking a face of utter terror as he plops down next to you at your tiny kitchen table.

You laugh, already feeling a sense of relief from your otherwise shitty day. “No one’s going near my ass with a ten foot poll, I tell you.”

“Oh, don’t lie,” Taehyung suddenly chimes in, entering the kitchen to scour the fridge.

“Yeah, we both know you’re kinky as fuck, dude.” Jin agrees.

“Have you met yourself??” You throw yourself around on your chair to ask Taehyung.

“Hey, I’ve never denied I’m kinky.” Taehyung says casually and takes a gulp of his water before joining you at the table.

“What are your plans for tonight?” You change the subject.

“Gotta tutor,” Jin tells you, he looks sad about it so you give his hand a sarcastically reassuring squeeze.

“At least you’re making money. You, Tae?”

“We’re going to the opening of that art show,” He reminds you.

“Oh shit…”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Jin shakes his head with a shit eating smile. “Finally, Taehyung shall feel the burn of being forgotten by one’s so called best friend.”

You laugh but stop when you meet Taehyung’s eyes and realize he’s serious. “Is there something important that’s come up?”

“Uhm,” You stutter, trying to figure out how to tell him the boy you’ve liked for months invited you to his party and that it completely took up all your thinking capacity… that and Jeon Jungkook’s stupid face. Pffft, ‘the D.U.F.F’. What does he think this is? High school?

“Cat got your tongue?” Jin muses.

“Not the time, Jin.” You sing, not sparing him a look as you let Taehyung’s slow burning glare eat you alive.

“Spit it out, Y/N, at least be honest.” Taehyung says plainly, his words leaving a sting.

“See, the thing is,” You twiddle your thumbs on the table, “Jimin may or may not have invited me to a party at his frat tonight…”

“JIMIN?!” They both exclaim at the same time, well, Jin more squeals, but anyway.

“Yes,” You whisper, trying but failing to contain your smile.

“Permission granted,” Taehyung grins.

“Like you don’t ditch us all the time,” Jin says in your defense, hitting Taehyung over the head.

Taehyung has no witty response so he just moves on, “What are you gonna wear?” He asks excitedly, the crazy fashion major side of him shimmering across his eyes.

“Oh, no, no, no,” You quickly dismiss that notion, “I am not getting all dolled up.”

“So basically you’re gonna go out with your crush, the one you’ve liked since practically day one, in mom jeans and a faded shirt?” He asks with crossed arms.

You look down at your pale blue shirt and paler high wasted jeans and then back at Taehyung who is judging your outfit obviously.

“Yes,” You say simply.

“That’s what you’re going to the party in?” You seem to hear a fly or something of the sorts buzzing behind you as you walk down the passage towards the elevator. Jungkook sighs, “Y/N, don’t ignore me, Jesus.”

You throw your head back and let out a groan loud enough for him to hear. “I’m not really up for one of our fun games of ‘insult Y/N.” You say, turning around to come face to face with Jungkook.

You take a secret glance down at what he’s wearing- a cameo jacket that comes down to his hips which he wears over a slightly longer grey shirt that comes down over his black jeans, slightly baggy towards the thighs and go skinny into his black Doc Martins. Not bad,you think for a second before remembering who you’re talking to.

Jungkook laughs, “Relaaax, babe. You look… nice.” He lies.

“Look, I know that living opposite one another means it’s inevitable we’ll run into each other, but three times a day is a bit excessive, don’t you think?” You question.

“You’ve been counting,” He winks.

You give up and turn around to continue your way to the elevator but hear his jogging footsteps behind you, and he is walking next to you within seconds. “You’re going to Alpha Nu’s party, correct?” He asks.

“Yes,”

“Great! I can give you a ride.”

“Uh, I’m ok thanks.”

“I’m not getting drunk, I promise.”

“Fine,”

The song playing off Jungkook’s phone in the car reminded you of your childhood, it was the one that played at your first high school dance. Jungkook had already started hanging out with the cool kids, but he hadn’t completely started ignoring you yet. You remember standing at the back of the hall, watching everyone else dance. You felt so awkward. Jungkook had come up to you and asked if you wanted to dance as this slow song started playing. That was before he’d gotten tall and buff and good at sports, that was before he became an asshole who spent his days insulting you despite being able to do literally anything else. You doubted Jungkook even remembered this song. He probably doesn’t even remember that night.

“You really think this outfit is that bad?” You ask.

He glances your way for a second and smirks, his face being lit up by passing streetlights. “I mean, it’s not great. You’re going to this party to impress Jimin, right?”

“’Impress’ is a strong wor-”

“The least you could have done is put on a black dress or something like that, black dresses drive guys crazy, especially with red lipstick.”

“I’m not trying to sell myself to him,” You cross your arms.

He laughs, the veins in his hands visible as he changes gears. You look out the front window instead. “You always take things so seriously. I’m not saying you should ‘sell’ yourself to him. I’m saying you should work on how you present yourself to him.”

You silently take in what he’s saying, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know you internalized what he said.

“You do that?”

“We all do,” He answers. “I mean, like us normal sexually active people.” Of course he had to add that.

“Excuse me, I’m sexually active.” You laugh awkwardly; knowing full well the last time you got laid was 1 month ago when you climbed into Taehyung’s bed at 4am after studying all night. You were 100% sure you had chocolate all over your mouth and were wearing your old gym shirt from high school and your period underwear and he was wearing those strange posh silk pajamas. So that doesn’t really count. Taehyung doesn’t really count. And the last time you hooked up with… someone else… was 3 months ago…

“Oh yeah, when was the last time you got laid?”

“Recently,” You lie. “Look, I don’t know what your obsession with me is all about but-”

“You know what, I’ll help you,” Jungkook suddenly announces proudly.

You stare at him as he busies himself parking about a block from the frat. “What?”

He turns the engine off and turns to you with a look of pure self-satisfaction on his face. “I’ll help you get Jimin’s attention.”

“I don’t need your help,” You scoff.

“Yes, you do. Come on, Y/N,” He almost sounds like he’s pleading. “You know I know what I’m doing. Jimin won’t know what hit him. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

He can’t just want to help you from the goodness in his heart. He doesn’t have a heart. “Why the fuck are you being so weird, Jeon? What do you want from me?”

He looks like you’ve just insulted his entire family tree and brings his hand to his chest in pain. “Can’t I just help you out… as a friend?”

“Oh please,” You scoff. “friend is a very strong word.”

“What do you mean, babe?” Jungkook frowns, “We’ve been friends since primary school.”

You roll your eyes and don’t answer. “Why do you want to help me get Jimin’s attention, dude? Why are you so weird?”

“Nice to know this is how I’ll get treated when I try and offer help-” He stops when he sees your unamused face. “Ok, I may be struggling a bit with my grades and I know you know your shit so, like, I was thinking you would… help… tutor me, or something, I don’t know…” He rubs his neck awkwardly.

So that’s it. “I see,” You hum. “How interesting.”

“Oh, come on, don’t give me that look,” He shakes his head. “I’m kind of in shit at the moment. I was just thinking we could do a friendly a trade. I’ll help you get dick and you help me up my grades before the end of term.”

“For the last time, I don’t need your help getting dick!”

“Yeah but what about Jimin’s dick?” He tries to convince you. Is he that dumb? Does he not understand humans at all?

You’re about to tell him to fuck right off when someone bangs against the window next to Jungkook making both of you jump. Jungkook looks down for a second after seeing who it is and you hear him mutter ‘fuck’. You don’t see whom it is but he takes a breath and turns on the engine to roll the window down.

“Hey, baby,” One of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen says sensually and takes his head into her hands and you notice her perfectly done yellow nails with small cherries on them. She places a lengthily smooch on his lips and you nearly puke. She finally lets go of him with a smack of her lips just as you were about to get out of the car and avoid the sex scene as well as your conversation with Jungkook.

“Why were you sitting in the car for so long?” She pouts and then finally notices you. “Who is this?” You kind of want to laugh out loud.

“Oh,” Jungkook rubs his neck, “this is one of my friends. We were talking.”

“Ok, well anyway,” She completely brushes you off and opens the door to literally pull him out, “can we go now?”

Jungkook sighs, “Hana, I’m having a conversation right now.”

You watch them but the car cuts off their heads but you can practically hear her scowling. “Whatever.” She says and walks off back towards the party. You laugh to yourself as she flicks her long red hair over her shoulder.

“She seems like she just walked out of a high school movie,” You can’t help but say as Jungkook climbs back into the car.

Luckily he doesn’t get insulted, he just laughs but it sounds tired and not like his usual boyish laugh. “Tell me about it.”

“Your girlfriend?”

Jungkook closes the window and door and turns the engine off again before answering, “Ex.”

“Ah,”

He turns to you and smiles, “What do you think about my proposition?”

“We still on that?”

“Y/N, you’re literally wearing a shirt with a zombie on it.”

“Everyone loves zombies,” You say like it’s obvious.

“Ah yes, and the very sight of the gruesome and oddly large breasted creature will definitely cause Jimin to pop a boner from the other side of the room.”

“That’s the plan,” You say sarcastically and open the door to finally walk away but you hear Jungkook opening and closing his door and once again he has no trouble catching up to you.

“Ok, here’s the deal. How about you see how things go tonight and if my idea at all entices you, you know where I live. Sound good?”

You reach the lawn in the front of the big house and start making your way through the scattered crowds of people.

“Y/N,” Jungkook puts his hand on your shoulder and makes you stop to look in his eyes and he actually looks sincere. “Sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You smile, knowing you aren’t promising him anything except to think about it.

“Do you want me to get you a drink?” He grins.

“I’ll survive.”

Ever since Jungkook brought up the stupid concept of the D.U.F.F, you feel like that’s all you can see. You haven’t seen Jimin since you got here. You’ve greeted people and taken one or two shots with some friends from class, but you find yourself leaning against one of the walls in the large living space. You watch the groups of people bitterly.

Stacy from English? The D.U.F.F.

Adam on the basketball team? The D.U.F.F.

Jimin? The person people go through D.U.F.Fs to get to.

Jungkook? The person people go through D.U.F.Fs to get to. Also the man you currently want to kill.

Seriously, how could someone be so immature? With those big teeth and his cocky smile. Did he stop growing in the first year of high school? Well, obviously not physically because he’s tall and strong and has a thick neck and a nice jaw… and he’s dumb. Very dumb and right now you hate hi-

“Y/N!”

Jimin. Shit, you forgot you were even here for him, your brain was so consumed by all this D.U.F.F shit. It’s better than brooding over not getting any attention from the man that invited you, you reckon.

“Hey, Jimin,” You smile, suddenly worrying if you look normal or like a sad, drunk girl as he leans himself against the wall next to you.

“Enjoying the party?” He asks, his eyes piercing as a small smile plays on his lips. His arms are crossed, the lighting dim on his sharp features and his hair slightly curled and hanging over his brows. Shit, he’s sexy.

“Uh, y-eah,” You giggle. Why the fuck are you giggling?

“Let’s go get a drink,” He announces, grabbing you by your hand and pulling you through the people. You watch where your bodies are connected in wonder, your skin is burning.

He let’s go as soon as you reach the kitchen and you catch yourself nearly reaching out to take his hand back into your own. His smile is blinding as he spins around to grab a bottle of vodka.

“Why do we get drunk so often?” He asks then laughs, bringing the whole bottle to his lips. He puts his hand on your shoulder; his eyes glisten with something foreign and distant, but happy nonetheless. “Isn’t everything pointless?”

You don’t know how to respond, he didn’t exactly say the lightest thing, and his angelic face and sparkling eyes contrast to the dark concept, but he waits for you to say something. “Wow…”

Jimin takes your answer well and soon he’s grinning again and thrusting the bottle into your face. “You know,” He starts as you take a sip of vodka, “there’s something about you that makes you easy to speak to.”

His unintentional compliment makes you blush, even though he’s only said 10 words to you. Suddenly he’s taking the bottle from you and taking your hand again, pulling you out the kitchen door and towards the steps, causing you to almost fall down them. He sits down and drags you down with him, his warm hand still holding onto yours. The evenings are getting colder and his long exhale turns into a subtle white cloud. You shiver and rub your arms, you obviously get nervous around Jimin, but right now you might explode.

“You know,” He sighs, “I’m not sure if drinking while I’m sad makes me feel better, or if it just makes things a thousand times worse.”

Your eyes widen and you straighten your back, “You’re- you’re sad about something? What’s,” You clear your throat, “what’s up?”

“I want to dance, Y/N. I want to dance so bad, that’s what I want to do with my life, but I don’t think my parents will ever talk to me again if I do something as ‘reckless’ as that. Plus, there’s something else driving me a little crazy right now-”

“Jimin, get your ass in here,” A man emerges from the kitchen, pulling Jimin up by his shoulders, causing his hand to fall from yours. He’s pulling Jimin inside and he only spares you a glance to share one of his dazzling smiles before disappearing from you.

So quickly, so quickly was he here and then he was gone. How could you ever expect him to want to spend the night with you? How could you let yourself get your hopes up like that? You’re just one of the many people he invited to his party. You groan and look out over the lawn and watch as some people stumble down the relatively empty street. From the corner of your eye you spot figures, when you look you see a man pushing someone up against a tree, engaging in some intense make out session. When you notice the familiar tall, firm frame broad shoulders, you know it’s Jungkook. You nearly puke. Of course it’s him. He looks like he’s swallowing the poor girl whole.

You push yourself up from the steps and make your way over to him, it takes a few pats on his shoulder for him to even notice you’re there.

“What?” He groans when he sees you, his breath coming out in pants from suffocating the girl unfamiliar to you.

“Ok,” You say.

“Ok?” He frowns, looking impatient, his hands still playing with her breasts. You visibly gag and that makes him chuckle. He squeezes them and grins, “What?” Squeeze. “What do you want?”

“I agree to the,” You glance to the girl who is occupied with kissing his neck, you whisper, “deal.”

“Seriously?” He looks excited and he looks cute with his eyes all-wide like that.

“Yes,” You say already turning around to walk away.

“Wait, Y/N!” He calls after you. “Where are you going?”

“Home!”

Jungkook looks down at the girl he has pushed up against the tree, he looks at her large breasts and groans, “Look, I gotta go.” He steps away from her rather unapologetically and runs after you.

When you see him next to you, you let out a noise of annoyance. “Can’t get enough of me?”

“I told you I’d be the designated driver.”

[luciferianbuddhism]

Hello 💖💖💖 i have read all ur posts on luciferianism and it really gave me things to think about, im really grateful there is someone like you who compiles data so scientifically about this 🤣 regarding your post "an individual voice" i think, i was really curious, if im not nosey, what was the comment that set you off?? And if u could talk more about these things, controversial??? I guess u could call them

You are welcome! I am glad I gave you food for thought. As for things controversial, hit my inbox up even anon with a question. I’m not really sure what would be controversial. I just end up posting whatever is on my mind at the time which is lately about the community, the individual, and well...’theism’ [worship, prayer, etc.] But I will gladly post more about these things.

As for that comment I will post it here in full, and I’ll talk about while I appreciated it and...did not appreciate it. This comment was on the Beliefs & Practices Survey which is the one I am really struggling to improve. I do want to get a good picture of people’s variety of beliefs, how they perceive themselves as Luciferians, and Luciferianism as a whole. Which as for why I am doing this, I really want to write a book about Luciferianism one day and be able to go: this is a decent picture of Luciferianism. It is not the whole, but a good picture.

Anyway the comment:

“ Its way too political and gender focused, in my opinion. You missed an oportunity to make this about the individual and their experiences and make them feel listened, and made this about social issues and lucifer. Which is not really what he is about if u ask me. Lucifer should not be an icon for fighting social injustice but an icon of self liberation so you and everyone else dont have to turn social things into issues. Because you are all self content and self loving. But i think aside from that good job, you really included a broad spectrum of topics and options. And talked about how luciferianism gets along with other religions. But it left a sour taste in my mouth because i feel like the community is more about using lucifer as a weapon for social commentary and instead dont do much introspection. I dont think social issues are not an issue but i wish it would be more about spirituality and not how shit and unfair and wrong and full of labels our world is. “

So, why did I appreciate it? The participant was right on one thing, it was very focused on politics. As I am going through the gender I am a bit confused as there was one gender question [How do you view Lucifer’s gender?] through the B&Ps and one that is reference to a political issue “transgender issues.”

That is the one good comment in my eyes. The rest I want to rip down because it goes against what I believe within Luciferianism. There should be very little gatekeeping within our community. I say little because not all are welcome because screw fascists, racists, alt-right, etc. They are trying to dictate how certain people may experience Luciferianism.

I take issue because “you are all self-content and self-loving” how is that a bad thing? Why should I be hateful of myself? Perhaps it is the most Luciferian of qualities to worship oneself [one could even say Satanic too]. You can have these qualities and your journey has not stopped either.

I realize that social issues is not everyone’s cup of tea. My brand of justice issues leans towards the environment over some other issues. I camp, hike, backpack, kayak, I used to rock climb, I love the outdoors. Of course, I am going to care about the outdoors. And that being said, it could also be where I am at with my journey. I’ve done a lot of introspection of the years. I still do introspection but there is only so much you can do.

And to bring it back to the comment sometimes the way I perceive Lucifer as rather Promethean perhaps. I see the idea of “Rebel with cause.” What is the cause then? Cannot social issues be the best of causes? Is that not spiritual enough? How it all cycles back to each other? Dark to light? And while the Satanic Church is perhaps not my most favorite of people they have done activism. Satanists have done good activism. 

You can be an activists and spiritual. Look at Buddhism. I don’t want to hear people say no we cannot. This argument does not translate well. No one has to do anything, no one has to announce it is in the name of Lucifer either. You don’t have to go pounding on doors [or streets], making phones calls either, sometimes it is making sure money goes to the proper organization, sometimes it is writing letters to your representative. Not everyone is active all the time either, burn out is a real thing too. Hence, why being spiritual can be so incredibly vital and supportive!

I have my moments where I can be very active with activism. Then I will back down due to mental health reasons. I am getting better at managing it, I tend to burn bright, hot and fast and then fade out. I am learning to be a steady, constant flame with my energy. I am living in a new state now, so I have to find new groups as the group I was part of does not have a satellite group here.

So, how is that for controversial, eh?

[my-magical-babies]

Hard work

Summary: You work very hard and end up looking tired constantly, Taehyung just wants his baby to be happy.

Warnings: Its kinda boring towards the end because I noticed that it was short, i sorry. also a very brief mention of death, but its almost forgotten within the next 2 sentences.

Taehyung was constantly worried about you, his mind would always race when you would leave to work and when you would come home looking like you had a horrible day. He knew you worked at SM Entertainment and you did a lot of running around, but if you constantly look like you had a horrible day- then why don’t you quit your job?

“Taehyung? Are you home?” Again you looked drained after work, even though you had only gone there for 3 hours, they had called you in for an emergency at work.

His head perked up and he gave a weak smile, “I’m in the kitchen honey, come here i wanna talk with you” His tone seemed serious so you hurried into the kitchen.

“You wanted to talk Tae, actually can we sit on the bed, I want to rest my legs.” You gave him a small smile, the first actual smile that you’ve given him in almost a month now.

The two of you went to bed, he allowed you to change into more comfortable clothes and gave you a cup of water, “(Y/N), why do you still work at SM?”

You nearly choked on your water, “What do you mean Taehyung, it’s my job. I don’t want to just mooch off of the money you make at BigHit. I refuse to be a housewife type of girlfriend.”

“You constantly are stressed and seem like you’re about to collapse from exhaustion.This past month you come home looking like someone has attacked you on your way home. I worry for you honey. I want what’s best for you and I don’t want you to end up in the hospital from overworking yourself.” Taehyung grabbed the water and moved it onto a nightstand, he then grabbed your hands and looked into your eyes.”Talk to me please, I want to make sure that you are doing okay.”

You sighed and pulled him into a hug, “I’m sorry Taehyung” A tear fell onto his shoulder and your body began to shake, almost like a chihuahua on a cold day. “I can’t say yet- there’s legal stuff and” You begin to sob into his shoulder.

Despite being shocked by your sudden tears, Taehyung rubbed circles into your back and softly hummed into your ear. You recognized the tune of your favorite BTS song- Spring day, your shivering stopped as you looked up at him, silently thanking him and placing a peck on his cheek.

“Thank you for dealing with me Tae, there is a lot of legal things happening in the company right now and I’ve been having to do tons of paperwork. There have been meeting back to back and people are really stressed. I can’t get into everything that is happening because of the different labels and we are trying to keep this as unknown as possible outside of the walls of SM.” You sniffle and give his hands a squeeze.

“Jagi, I don’t care what happens between the companies but I hate seeing you upset. How about this, if you ever need help just call me and we will talk for as long as you need, you can pretend it has to do with your work or whatever- just talk to me okay?” You nod and lay down, opening your arms for him, signalling that you want to cuddle.

Taehyung smiles and engulfs you into a hug, he then rolls over to where you are almost laying down on him, your head resting on his chest. He lets out a small chuckle and kisses your forehead and holds your hands.

The next day when you went to work as usual, except this time people were not running around the office, it seemed dead- empty almost. You checked your watch and noticed that you were on time, it was just abnormally empty. You walked around to the breakroom and found the boss of your department.

“Why is it so empty today?” You looked at their solemn face and sighed knowing one of two extremes happened, someone won the case or the case was leaked.

“We won the case, but because the family had a death in the family they focused their money on that. The boys want to send money to help with their troubles and apologize for their actions. Can you go get a statement from them and i don’t know maybe ask them to write letters that way they can see how they are genuinely sorry?” You immediately nodded and rushed to your small office, grabbing paper and your laptop bag, running over to the secretaries desks checking where they would be today.

The studio was abnormally quiet when you walked in, the boys seemed to sigh in relief when you walked in looking more casual than every other worker in the building.

“Hi boys. I was asked to take a statement so that I could send a formal letter to the family, but if you guys would like to send handwritten letters talking about anything then I have paper here. Is there somewhere I can sit and individually ask you guys questions so I can form the statement and then later after you guys have finished your tasks or during break you can run by and check it out?” After that your day went by smoothly for the first time in forever, you were even able to get everything written and done with before you were supposed to get off of work, allowing you to organize your workstation and get ahead on the projects that your manager had tasked you with.

When Taehyung saw you come home early he was surprised but happy because he had invited the boys over to eat dinner with him so he wouldn’t be lonely. You smiled and walked over to him, giving him a large hug before turning towards the boys.

“I thought you were going to stay late again Jagi” Taehyung asked, giving you a small kiss before letting you go to greet the boys.

“Work calmed down, some stuff went down after I left and everything came to an end, in a messy bow but it got wrapped up and I’ll be coming home at a regular time unless they need me to continue-” You explained to them before Yoongi cut you off pointing to the TV, where it explained a scandal between one of the members of EXO and a father in a family. “I guess the news would cover it eventually” You sighed and took a seat.

“What happened?”

“One of the boys was on the phone with the others and wasn’t paying attention and said something that was badly misinterpreted and then ran into the same man on a staircase, causing the man to get a little injured. As you know people will take any opportunity to take money from an Idol.”

The boys nodded and quickly changed the subject to finding some place to deliver food for you guys and deciding on what movie to watch. It was an excellent way to end your night as you cuddled close to Taehyung who told you that he knew it was only going to get better after all the hard work you were doing.

“You know, we wouldn’t mind you working for BigHit with us instead of SM, they could use a beautiful and hard worker like you” Jimin joked around only to get hit by Taehyung and causing you and the rest of the boys to let out a laugh as they fought playfully.

[wesleybates]

The Most Prevalent Web Design Mistakes to Avoid in 2020 and Beyond

Web design as we know it today focuses on deftly combining form and function, all to provide users enjoyable, interesting, and usable visits.

In other words, web design is now all about enhancing the user experience. Today’s web designers strive to fulfill what Internet users need, whether they’re creating a site with minimalist and simple web design or one that’s visually stunning.

Still, mistakes are not uncommon in the world of web design, most of which don’t do the user experience any favours. Let’s take a look at some of the most prevalent mistakes web designers should steer clear of in 2020 and the years to follow.

Pages That Take Forever To Load

There was a time when a page loading fully within 10 seconds or so already makes users happy.

That time is long gone. In 2020, the norm is three seconds or less.

Anything beyond that and people will label a page as one that takes forever to load. Yes, four seconds is already “forever” to many users, which speaks volumes about our ever-shrinking attention spans.

Slow page load speed is something web designers must address. Sure, some other factors may be causing the lag, like web hosting or the Internet speed of users, but web design is often at the top of that list.

Unoptimized images, heavy use of custom fonts, excessive ads, social media script overload, and other factors contribute to slowing down your pages. All of them are web design issues, which means you should avoid them when you can.

Random Use of Stock Photography

Let’s make it clear that there’s nothing wrong with using stock photography per se.

While it’s true that stock photos have nothing on original photography when it comes to setting your brand apart, some businesses simply don’t have the budget to commission a professional photographer.

For them, it’s almost always a choice between mediocre original photos of their staff and high-quality images of impeccably-dressed people in staged situations wearing smiles that come across as fake.

If you have to resort to stock photography, choose images that somehow represent your brand, not a random photo set that seems like something you just put together for the sake of featuring pretty pictures on your site.

If you want to present a polished image for your brand, you should at least pick stock photos where the lighting, the technology being used, the models’ outfits, and other small details are consistent.

Navigation Issues

For Internet users, few things are more frustrating than being led on a wild goose chase while exploring a website.

A bad website navigation structure can easily ruin the user experience. People have very little patience for issues like links that lead to the wrong page, far too many navigation options, and a search feature that doesn’t work, among other things.

You can’t expect people to put up with navigation problems. They will just drop your site like a hot potato, and you’ll end up with a much higher bounce rate.

Navigating your site should be easy, so tweak your web design and do stuff like adding clickable navigation elements, checking all links to make sure they lead to the right place, dividing categories clearly, and linking the logo back to the home page.

Animation Overload

Every year, web design trends come and go. Some trends, however, seem bent on staying. The use of animation and video in web design has been trending for years now and shows no signs of ever leaving.

Animation and video are great, but some web designers tend to go overboard with them. Add the fact that a growing number of web designers are now toying with moving elements, and they eventually end up with websites so distracting that focusing on one thing can be difficult.

Animation is particularly good at drawing the eyes of visitors. Instead of trying to impress them with an animation overload, try placing elements in an area where they will lead people to contact forms, live chat, offers, and other critical elements of your website.

Using Barely Readable Fonts

Video may be getting a lot of attention from users, but people still typically read the written content.

Sometimes, however, web designers use fonts that are either too small or difficult to read.

Ideally, body text should be at 16px, which is quite easy to read regardless of the device you’re using.

Also, avoid using cursive fonts, hand-drawn scripts, and other typefaces that look pretty but offer little in the way of readability.

Use no more than three fonts as well. And if you’re going to use colored typefaces, don’t torture readers with low-contrast text, like yellow fonts on a white background.

Too Many Colors

Colors play a very crucial role in making a website look great. Sometimes, however, web designers go to town and use as many hues as they want.

You don’t need to use a multitude of colors for your work. Ideally, websites should only have two to three colors, although some could reasonably go up to five or even six. Seven or more colors on one website can be uncomfortable for the eyes and confusing for the brain.

Zero Mobile-Friendliness

When users access your website on a mobile device, and they end up doing a lot of pinching and zooming and scrolling sideways just to read anything, don’t expect them to hang around. They will exit your mobile-unfriendly site without hesitation, and you will surely miss out on leads, conversions, and even sales.

Not being mobile-friendly is no longer an option for websites these days, when mobile users far outnumber desktop users.

You have to make your website easier to read, and its buttons easier to tap on mobile devices. Switch to responsive web design, and Google will also love you for it

Stuffing Pages With Too Much Content

A web page filled with quality content is okay, but cramming in too much content—even when it’s of high quality—on one page only makes the whole thing look cluttered.

Go easy on the content stuffing and make sure your web pages look clean and organized. It would also be great if you could leave plenty of whitespace, which allows your content to breathe and make the whole page look more professional.

Too Many Ads

Websites are a business, and ad placements are an integral part of that business.

Some overdo it, though. Too many ads on a page tend to be distracting—even annoying.

Aside from annoying visitors, a plethora of ads can end up undermining the web design in general.

Practice some restraint in this regard because visitors will likely leave if you bombard them with ads every single time.

Autoplaying Videos With Sound

This may be news to some web designers, but many people hate the idea of opening a web page only to be greeted by an autoplaying video with the sound on.

If you have to put that in for whatever reason, the least you can do is turn autoplay off or mute it. That way, you won’t be giving visitors wearing headphones a heart attack when they access your website.

Missing Contact Information

It’s odd that many websites have no contact information, or don’t display them as prominently as they should.

If you want prospective customers to reach you, make sure that your contact information—from your business phone number to social media account links—is displayed in a highly visible spot on your website, like the header or the footer.

Creating a dedicated contact page would also be great.

Ill-timed Pop-ups

There is nothing wrong with pop-ups. They can help encourage visitors to engage with your business more, among other things.

Pop-ups, however, can quickly turn annoying when they appear at the most inappropriate times.

In most cases, pop-ups urging visitors to subscribe or sign up to their mailing list appear the moment they open a page before they even get to read the content they were seeking.

The most irritating part is when the pop-up box is big enough to block the content visitors are about to read completely.

It’s preposterous to assume that your pop-up can convince a visitor to do its bidding without having read a single word of your content.

The right thing to do is give your visitors some time to explore your site before showing that pop-up.

More than twenty years in, web design as a science or art is still at its very early stages. The level of work today’s web designers are capable of turning in may be a far cry from how websites looked and functioned during the 1990s, but it’s still easy for them to make a mistake.

Web design is still evolving, and what may be considered good practice now may no longer be acceptable in the future. Nevertheless, following current best web design practices and steering clear of the mistakes listed above remain the right path to take toward achieving your business website’s goals.

To get more details on web designing please be in touch with the expert Web designer in Denver, CO.

[austinbeerguide]

Brewer’s Brain: From the Mind of Shannon “The Brew Brotha” Harris

I am often asked, “What’s your favorite beer?”, which has always been an extremely broad question to answer. Broad in the sense that there’s so many styles or categories of beer to consider before providing an answer. Sometimes I can proudly name a slayed ”whale” (beer reference for overpriced rare or small batch/limited released craft beer), most of the time it’s simply answering with my favorites styles; imperial stouts and lagers. Then there’s the question of “What’s your favorite brewery to visit?”. Tough one to answer when there’s over 8,000+ craft breweries in the U.S. and I’ve been to at least 100 of them. But if you must know — it’s Guinness Brewery in Baltimore, MD. Although, there is a debate if they’re even considered a craft brewery.

There’s one question that I’ve always asked myself when visiting breweries over the years. It’s a question not too many have asked me, until recently. “Where are all of the black people?”

Before anyone who reads this gets up in arms, this is a two-way street that has a middle ground for us all to meet. Safely. The underrepresentation of people of color in the craft beer industry has been an ongoing issue. Discussions about diversity and inclusion have been made but many have also been ignored as the topic is sensitive to most. The lack of diversity in the taproom is being noticed; the bar staff, cellarmen/cellarwomen, brewers, and even ownership. It’s being observed by beer snobs, or aficionados, such as myself, and to those that are new to craft beer on the outside looking in.

I’ve been a voice against the cultural appropriation, tone deaf labels, and beer names that breweries jump on with no thought to how offensive these could be to minorities. We have breweries mistreating their employees of color with distasteful racist and sexist jokes or segregated office supplies. Yes, you’ve read that last part right. Explicitly “F” that brewery. It’s an industry that can make most people of color cringe just to be a part of.

Ready to address the elephant in the room now? Craft beer is a predominately white all boys club.

It started that way and has been that way for some time now. With the rise of women, LGBTQ+, and minority brewers and owners, we are on a path to great change in the industry. To play devils advocate, taprooms aren’t that much more diverse on the consumer side either, which leads me to ask, how are people of color or other underrepresented minorities looking to include ourselves in this industry?

I see change happening by encouraging people of color to tap into the market by looking to own, partner, and operate a brewery. Making this change will make more people of color feel included and welcome when visiting, working for, and owning a business in craft beer.

Of all craft breweries in the U.S. less than 1% are actually black-owned. That’s roughly 60 black-owned breweries out of over 8,000. A small fraction, but huge progress nonetheless, as the number slowly but surely increases year over year. You are probably asking yourself, how do we, as Black and Brown people engage ourselves? Instead of waiting on an invitation (because let’s face it, not everyone is going to roll out the red carpet for us) we need to take the initiative and visit local breweries in our own communities and drink beer. We need to apply for front of house brewery positions and become a recognized face and heard voice. We need to partner with our fellow minority friends to develop business plans and create a platform to empower ourselves in this industry.

Many breweries have been vocal; making it clear that racism and hate is not tolerated in their brewery. Making it loud and clear that the Black community is loved, appreciated and welcomed as they stand with us as allies in solidarity.

Watch for breweries that have been eerily silent or blatantly announcing and showing their lack of empathy and flat out hate towards black people, while at the same time having black and other minority customers and staff members. Pay attention to redacted opinions and companies begrudgingly joining the cause. Many have only posted a black square on social media and left it that. Leaving their supporting consumers wondering what’s next, as “business as usual” posts buried that black square.

We need to support the breweries that are standing up against the injustices towards people of color. The breweries that are donating and raising money for minority focused charities. Most are brewing charitable beers like the now worldwide Black is Beautiful beer initiative, started by Weathered Souls Brewing in San Antonio, TX, who used this time as an amazing opportunity to shed light on today’s racial issues. You can find out more about the initiative at blackisbeautiful.beer and support the communities that are local to you by visiting participating breweries in your area and purchase Black is Beautiful.

Garrett Oliver, of Brooklyn Brewery, has recently launched The Michael Jackson Foundation for Brewing & Distilling. A grant-making organization that funds scholarship awards to Black, Indigenous, and People of Color within the brewing and distilling trades.

The breweries that have been silent with their brewing platforms have blamed COVID or lack of tank space as reasons they’re not participating. Fair, but there’s over 1,000 breweries worldwide participating that are also suffering from the destruction COVID-19, have limited tank space, but rearranged brewing schedules to support the cause. Silent breweries have been slowly doing a 180 and participating after a slew of social media call outs. Knowing that it has taken being called out to get a brewery to brew a beer versus genuinely deciding to do so on their own is disappointing, yet eye opening.

Of course we know that all lives do matter but Black lives are the ones in jeopardy today. Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd are just a few of the unexpected, unnecessary, and unlawful examples of that jeopardy. When it comes to craft beer, and the industry within itself, let’s acknowledge those people of color that are advocating for diversity and inclusion. We’ve reached out in many ways to support craft breweries — now its time for you to reach out. Create that dialogue and educate yourself. If these are issues you’ve never dealt with by not being a minority, have a conversation with your staff and other supporters that are. Brewery owners and managers must note that even within your own staff, if there’s a minority team member, they may be hurting and looking at you for guidance, compassion, acknowledgment, and more than likely solidarity. Be our ally.

We need to keep the pressure on and speak out. We can’t stop with a black square on Instagram or even with this article. We need to use those hashtags and #SayTheirNames, continuing to feature the voices of Black & Brown people with more articles such as mine here. I love craft beer and the industry behind it. All I want from the craft beer industry is to love me back. Because I am Black, and want to be seen and included.

Sincerely,

Your Brotha in Beer

Follow the @thebrewbrotha on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook

From the summer 2020 issue.

[rwby-party]

I’m really REALLY trying to move on from this because man I’m STILL salty about it but

Here’s an alternate thing of what they could’ve done with Sienna if they wanted to keep her important: 

A. Never designed her. B. Had Ghira mention her “Fight but only when necessary” ways in his speech. C. Had another scene talking about her death and Adam taking over and have his motives explained either in that scene or in another.

While this would still be disappointing in the sense of the build up with Sienna’s character (That I admittedly completely missed at first to be honest lmao I don’t know where the fuck I was) it would’ve removed the race aspect to this whole thing and still would’ve gotten all the same info out (With the exception of Hazel)

While people would be mad that she got treated this way, it’d be a lot less disappointing for a lot of people if it was like that. 

This is kinda for the people who argue that “We don’t need even more characters to focus on.” While you’re right, and I think that RWBY suffers sometimes just because of how many characters it has in it, then you just don’t introduce the character. She could’ve stayed in the background. There were different ways to get all the info from that scene. And I feel like the amount of people that died and we kinda just glossed over is a little too high anyway lol.

However, with that, there was this post I read of a good idea to go on at this point.

This needs to BREAK the White Fang. Not every single last person in the WF should be okay with this, and with what Sun has said about the WF before and how it seems like there’s some amount of faunus that DON’T respect the WF, this should cause a lot of problems.  What I felt like should’ve happened though is this: 

A. At least developed her a little more than what they did and let her live for more than 5 minutes. B. Not kill off a WoC in a position of power OR design a character that you know was going to be killed as a WoC in a position of power when your show is lacking PoC representation already.  C. But even if they did, With A, it would’ve made a bigger emotional impact and would be better to deal with.

That’s the part that frustrates me the most.

I would’ve dealt with it a little better if she had actually been developed. If we actually had time to connect with her, even though would be backlash still at killing a WoC. I figured she was doomed to die just because she was based off of Shere Khan. I assumed she would also sound a lot more evil because of it too.

She had points that I agreed with, though. Not everything, of course, but she wasn’t this radical extremist that everyone that’s notable hates (*Cough Cough* ADAM *Cough*) like the others accidentally made her out to be. Misguided, yes, but not 100 percent wrong evil.

I have a tendency to dislike characters who’s motives are/or shown as purely good or evil.

Adam’s pure evil. We know that now lol. He wasn’t shown to be any good since the very beginning. Salem and her crew are framed as the bad guys, and none of them really showed good or lawful qualities except recently. We don’t even know Salem’s motives yet, but they’re the bad guys and they’re kinda boring to be honest because of it.

Hazel really intrigued me with his “No one had to die today” statement because it showed him to not be evil for evil’s sake. He only killed if necessary. This is something that Salem kinda shows as well but only in a manipulative sense. A sense of “We can use them later.” Hazels line came off more like he was upset that she had died. Not upset in a sad way, but still. Hazel’s influence in that scene was WAY more interesting to me than Adam’s was. 

Sienna’s was as well. It showed that she wasn’t 100 percent bad. It showed that even though she was trying to do the right thing by earning respect for the faunus, she was KIND OF going the wrong way about it. emphasis on kind of. 

Either way, I felt like that scene was to advance Adam and not Hazel and definitely not Sienna.

With the little dialogue we got from her, I was more interested in her motives than Adam’s. The only feelings I have toward Adam is hate and confusion.

I hate him because he’s an asshole that maims and tries (and succeeds in cases) to kill people. ANd of course, he is the bad guy. We’re supposed ot hate him. I’m confused because of his motives, even though they were revealed. They're so left field it’s not enjoyable for me. If he was fighting for the Faunus to be treated equally it’d be different.   Instead he’s just some crazy asshole that wants to enslave the humans. It’s something so bizarre you have no reason to root for him whatsoever even if you’re on the side of the Faunus. It makes no sense. It’s something I personally think is a fatal flaw with him. He’s just pure evil, and it makes me uninterested in him because of it. He feels “Flat” because of it. He feels like your typical baddy mcbad guy, and for a show wanting to develop it’s characters, doesn’t really come off good. (However, I will say it was the best performance we got out of him and his VA. Not that his VA is bad, but Adam seemed a lot more lively in a sense in the scene.)  I have no elegant way of saying this lol, but Sienna also kinda went down like a bitch. With Pyrrha, she fought until the very end. She died a hero. It took more than just one stab in the stomach to kill her. With Sienna, we didn’t get a fight. We got a stab from Adam that killed her immediately without her even getting to fight back. (Random side note but some complained that the fact that she didn’t have an Aura protecting her was kinda B.S., and while I’d normally agree, I also feel like Adam’s sword can cut through Aura, hinted at with Yang imo. I think she does have aura. Or however I would need to word it to properly word it lmao) The whole thing felt empty or lacking substance because of that with the little screentime she had. There was no weight to it. The show always wants to kill characters off but besides Pyrrha hasn’t killed any substantial characters. (Which honestly, if you wanna kill characters that’s fine. If you don’t, that’s fine too. It’s just this weird middle ground that’s off.) Sienna was important, but 5 minutes of screentime did her no justice to HOW important she is as the (former) High Leader of the White Fang, the ONLY organization we’re focusing on against the mistreatment of the Faunus. 

Instead of hating Adam for killing of a good character, it’s hating him for killing off a character that didn’t have any time to develop themselves. (once again though, this is excluding the race part of it, which is a BIG part.) 

We were mad when Pyrrha died because she was a developed character. She grew from Vol. 1 - Vol. 3.  She was lovable, and most would agree she didn’t deserve her death. We were upset because we liked Pyrrha as a person and got to know her over the volumes. 

and it feels more like a “She died for her cause.” instead of a “Fuck you” from the writers like Sienna’s death unfortunately comes across. As of right now, even though I know it’s supposed to have weight, it doesn’t feel like it. It feels senseless. Pyrrha’s death felt like it had weight to it besides emotional, even though that was the prevalent emotion (For me at least I cried *Shot*) And while we do get a yearn for “what could’ve been” with Pyrrha too, it was more in the sense of because we knew what she was and KNEW of her potential (rather than just “Speculating”), not because the writers “didn’t care” about her. 

Also,Pyrrha, for what I could tell, was not a WoC in canon. I know I’ve said it before but there’s a serious lack of main characters that aren’t villians and are POC. So, when you kill off a POC within 5 minutes of introducing her it comes off as really bad.

I truly don’t think CRWBY meant it that way. I’m not labeling them as intentionally racist, but it’s still a huge slap in the face, EPSECIALLY when the faunus are supposed to be a race allegory to begin with. And while it is untentional, it  has racist undertones, and as of right now, nothing has been addressed.

When SU had that whole Concrete fiasco, they apologized. They came out and said that wasn’t their intention and people who didn’t even need to come out came and apologized for it. This was also something that many claimed wasn’t really racist or wasn't’ their intention. AND it really wasn’t. It still needed to be addressed though, and I feel like this is a similar situation. 

I’m not saying they have to bend over backwards, I just wish they would say something though. Even just a “Hey, we really didn’t mean for that to be interpreted that way, and we’re sorry for doing that.” And though I know that a lot of people still wouldn’t like that, at least they tried instead of staying quiet. 

Also, I really don’t mean to be judgmental with this, but I don’t trust a bunch of white people with a race allegory even though I felt like they were handling it better than expected beforehand. I feel like they may want to bring in more people for that sometimes. Same with LGBT+ stuff but that’s not what I’m talking about.  They’re doing okay, but when stuff like this happens, you can’t help but be a little upset at least. I just feel like all around Sienna got fucked, from being a Woc in a powerful position to just a character standpoint, she was screwed. She’s one of the worst cases of wasted potential in characters I’ve seen even excluding the race factor, and it really sucks. 

I really hate to rip on RWBY like this too even though I’m posting this. I love RWBY and it’s brought me SO much joy I can’t even begin to explain what it’s done for me both emotionally and “Story” wise. I love the CRWBY, and have been a RT fan for years. I love the show more than I should to be honest.

It’s just sad to see these problems.