#and it’s so frustrating to get people who either tell me to hang myself or to get people who think it’s because i’m some cringe fangirl

[alaskan-wallflower]

i hate how i go from feeling good about my posts on here to feeling scared as shit to voice an opinion because i’m gonna get told off by some anon or my mutuals are gonna abandon me

[maximumkillshot]

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Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming. 

A/N:  Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

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“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself. 

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.  

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail. 

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.” 

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often… 

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless… 

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.” 

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster. 

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that. 

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection. 

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.” 

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are. 

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…” 

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do. 

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink. 

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke. 

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide. 

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air… 

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.” 

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

 He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.” 

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again. 

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you. 

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload. 

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear. 

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.” 

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again. 

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends. 

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell. 

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you. 

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

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[chaifootsteps]

just me or is the whole 'saying this is like fanfic is homophobia' framing kind of frustrating? like just to list out the tropes that have come up so far in HH/HB:

female character is written as an evil shrew who gets in the way of the m/m pairing

relationship that starts with rape/dubcon rewritten into true love (this one is probably more common in bad BL manga but I'm willing to bet there's some overlap)

character is the child of a mob family

portrayals of rape/sexual assault treated as titillating / used for drama

portrayals of domestic violence/abuse used mainly to get viewers to feel sorry for a character instead of making them sympathetic on their own terms

abusers/rapists being all powerful monsters solely to torture the victim as much as possible

characters are either Good or Bad and writing is heavy handed about driving this point home

writers has one character they stan and baby above all others and not only the writing but the world bends around them as they eat up more and more screentime while the actual main characters are shoved to the side

writer has one character they hate and they hate other people liking them so they derail them in the most obvious way possible

writer has one pairing they despise and go out of their way to make them seem familial to shame the fans who ship it

writer has intended pairings in mind but they just kinda happen regardless of how much work has been put in to give them real chemistry

the plotlines jump all over the place with no consideration given to the differing stakes each create or audience fatigue when too much is introduced at once/too many hanging threads are left, similar to what happens in unplanned serialized fiction. consistency and worldbuilding errors abound. conversations/events that seem like they should change the status quo kinda don't but there's so little way to tell which one is which that audiences cannot gauge the stakes and either stop being invested or just take the show as it comes since there's no point anticipating anything being done with a lot of its characters & plot points

too many characters, often some of whom don't serve much purpose but the writer is way too attached to to ever cut out (looking at you, Andrealphus & Vassago)

characters are rewritten on the fly. due to the lack of planning their arcs start and stop or get quietly dropped when the writer tires of them

pervasive attitude of misogyny - female characters are underwritten, bitches, dumb or accessories to the men. The world revolves around the (usually white) m/m pairing/s

the main premise is dropped in favor of shipping drama or character shilling

etc.

There's probably more but those are the big ones - like s1 wasn't perfect but s2 really does feel like it became fanfic of itself. I understand Viv being frustrated if it seems like a broad dismissive brush instead of specific critiques, but there's a couple of problems here:

when people give specific critiques she either misrepresents their points to frame them as bad faith (tacitly encouraging her fans to do the same), complains people keep making the same point or writes defensive threads about how people just don't get it because, for example, the show totally demonstrates Millie has qualities other than Wife and Violent

when people say something 'feels like fanfic' as far as I've seen they aren't immediately using it as shorthand for 'it has LGBT characters'. usually when they expand on their points what they're getting at is a lack of planning and a lack of experience or competency in the writer that gives the whole thing impression of being done by an amateur who's either young or still learning their craft, or both

it's the same lack of experienced hands that resulted in the opening of Hazbin being so amateurish and lacking the sense of having actual episodes until other staff writers were brought in to clean up the mess

like yeah I don't like the implication that 'fanfic=automatically bad' since I've read some good stuff myself and maybe people could be more specific; but usually this critique is coming from people who actually like fanfic, who've read a lot of it and who recognize the tropes from the worst fanfics out there in Viv's work

Viv's little "Um, actually, fanfic is good and queer and so if you use it as an insult towards my shows, you're homophobic" snit is one of the more rancid things she's said. When you lay it all out like this, it really does go to show how her stories embody all the worst, most harmful tropes bad fanfic -- and bad writing in general -- has to offer.

[keshetchai]

Greetings Friend,

I hope you can help me

How did you go about learning Hebrew? As in what resources, classes, books etc. did you use to get a handle on the language?

I really struggle with languages, so I was hoping you had some advice or tips.

As a bit of background, I am currently a conversion student, going on almost 2.5 years now. I have long since completed the formal learning requirement with my synagogue (conservative) and according to my rabbis, I am free to attend the Beit Din and Mikvah whenever I so choose.

I know my neshama is Jewish, I know this is who I am/supposed to be. I know because of some unusual childhood experiences, and then when I started converting most aspects of the learning and practices came so naturally (granted nowhere near an orthodox level of observance, which isn’t necessarily the goal at this time, but certainly not something I am opposed to perusing) except for the languages.

As previously stated my rabbis say it is okay but something is holding me back from taking that final plunge (lol), and I believe it’s the language.

I still bench in English, and find it really stressful to attend services because I can barely muddle my way around the liturgy, or songs during a Shabbat dinner.

Of course this is just a personal hang up, and absolutely no criticism or shame on anyone else who converted without knowing/knowing very little of the language. Just, for some reason it just doesn’t feel right. I cannot bring myself to say I am actually a member of this wonderful, beautiful tribe before I have overcome this hurdle.

So… any advice?

A few answers for you, the first is most important:

Very Early On in my studying, one of the two rabbis at my synagogue wasn't leading and so she sat in the back, and I decided to sit next to her because i was still finding my footing in the basic service.

And at one point, it may have been for mi hamocha, the cantor starts with a NEW tune I don't know, and I'm still relying on the transliteration entirely and was still trying to memorize the FIRST tune.

And my rabbi leans over and whispers to me: "I have never heard this tune before in my life either."

And the anxiety broke, then. I didn't know this version for the song already and I was lost. But the rabbi sitting next to me also didn't know this tune.

Being Jewish is about always learning something new, even if you are encountering the same thing you've seen or done before dozens or hundreds of times. THAT is being Jewish. Rereading the same book every year and the same passages over and over, but still being a little lost or even finding something you never knew before?

That is being a Jew.

Jews may open a siddur and know what they'll find there, but we do not open it and expect to know everything about how that material is used or applied. And we don't feel a guarantee that life will not teach us something new today, or that someone's minhag won't be totally different from ours. Jews may know the Torah, they may even choose to memorize the mitzvot by heart, but we don't expect this memorization will ensure we never have a halakhic question in life!

So you see, the big scary fact is this: you might become a fluent reader of prayer book Hebrew, you might someday daven entirely in Hebrew, or even graduate rabbinical school, but still sometimes be thrown into being a stranger to something, even something you thought you knew.

But when you identify this and then embrace it, it becomes less scary and part of your Jewish identity. Being perfectly settled, fixed in your knowledge or your thinking or your skills — it honestly doesn't feel terribly Jewish to me.

And for many people born as Jews this can manifest as a type of reflexive embarrassment or self-consciousness for failing at jewishness somehow or having less knowledge for one reason or another. It can make folks defensive or ashamed or feel frustrated for the disconnect. I'm here to tell you that as converts we get the chance to illustrate joyfully that no Jew knows everything Jewish, and that is the experience of being Jewish. The biggest thing holding any of us back from learning the things we don't know is

a) being afraid to seem not Jewish enough or

b) being afraid to not know something

I have excellent news for your (and my) anxiety:

A) almost all Jews worry about how Jewish they seem in some fashion or another so that's normal and,

B) since only hashem knows everything, our job is to not know everything, but to be willing to learn anything. Also we're better in numbers! Two heads are better than one and a minyan is better than that! Everyone doesn't know something, but none of us are alone as Jews. Which is why we become Jewish in community, and not alone. Because someone else might know what we don't!

Get it?

Step #1: you have to jump feet first into not already knowing something perfectly and start knowing less but learning more.

If you are reading the English words and English translations to daven, this means you need to stop. This was your training wheel. And you are not finding your own balance relying on it.

If your siddur has transliterations of the hebrew, bring a little index card next time and cover up the English as you daven for a start. I familiarized myself with the Hebrew because I was saying everything in Hebrew out loud every single time. Once you know the shema by heart more or less (for example), all you have to do is learn the alphabet to prompt your memory to progress further in your Hebrew learning.

That's how kids learn any language. We speak before reading as children. So speak and chant and sing in Hebrew. Whisper the Hebrew. As you get more comfortable, learning to read Hebrew will be an exercise you can even do during the middle of shabbat.

Because you know what the prayer says, and you just need to match the words you see to the sounds you know.

Step #2: know the aleph bet before you attempt reading comprehension of all words.

Things that I used to learn the aleph bet:

Hebrew scripts (the app by drops)

Write it! Hebrew app

Victoria Hanna's The Aleph Bet Song (Hosha'na) because uh she sings the aleph bet and pronounces it

Behrman House Books: Hineni: prayerbook Hebrew for adults; aleph isn't tough! For adults. The kids stuff is good too, I'm not ashamed to say I own "time to read Hebrew!" 1&2

(The Hebrew by inbal on Amazon looks new but good possibly?)

If you want a siddur set up specifically to practice matching transliteration and Hebrew aleph bet, I recommend Chayim Alevsky's My Siddur (choose the minhag variant you use! I bought the Sephardic/Israeli as I don't use ashkie pronunciations.

There will be slight differences of you're used to liberal inclusion of say, the matriarchs, but in general this is a solid practice book for anyone. Transliteration is given word by word, with full word blocks reading in the same direction as Hebrew. At the bottom of the page certain (possibly newer to the learner) words will be defined.

It also now has an app which looks like this:

So you see this is pairing the reading direction of Hebrew words with the sounds spelled out in English to strengthen your Hebrew. If you try to read the transliteration in the English direction word by word, you'll be reading it backwards and starting with v'kayahm, instead of "modeh" (or "modah" feminine). Further even if you're starting correctly with modeh, the English word is still left to right over the Hebrew right to left. so this forces you to be attentive to the Hebrew itself and slow down word by word!

The layout in the print versions means you can cover up the transliteration to test your learning of certain words, and only check if you forget.

I still am not perfect at everything and I truthfully attentively practice Chinese far more than Hebrew reading, but this is what helped me.

Good luck!

[bingbongsupremacy]

Knock knock Pt. 2 (Last Part)

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

Warnings: Use of pet name 'baby' and nick names.

Summary: A simple request to turn the music down turns into a frustrating back and forth battle. Why does your neighbor have to be so damn attractive?

This fic does not mention anything about the way the readers' body is shaped, their weight, their height, etc. If I happened to miss something or accidentally described the readers' appearance anywhere, please let me know so I can fix it.

*Not Proof Read*

ABC List TLOU Master list

*****

" You fucking narc. " Venom drips off of Ellie's voice. Her eyebrows are drawn together, anger splayed across her face.

I hold onto the door handle tightly, staring at the girl on the porch. " I told you what would happen if you didn't shut your little party down. I'm not playing. Williams. " I try to keep my tone cool.

" I'm not either. This isn't over. " With that, Ellie storms away. She slams her front door, mumbling to herself in the process.

Serves her right.

------

" I'm going to kill Ellie Williams. " I huff, burying my head into my hands.

Loud, music vibrates off of the walls. Dina rolls her eyes. " You just keep making things worse by pranking her. She was pissed when you sent 50 pizzas over and she had to pay. No wonder she's throwing another party. "

" She'll easily make the $300 back. She sells fucking drugs, she makes more than I do. " I mutter.

" Maybe try talking to her again? I mean, if it's bugging you that much, it's always worth another shot. Just don't piss her off this time. " Abby suggests, her eyes not tearing away from the medical anatomy book in her hands.

" She's pissed off by everything I do. I literally asked to borrow a pencil once and she told me to fuck off. " I sigh. " But I guess it's worth a shot. Are you guys seriously not bothered by the constant noise? "

Dina shrugs. " Not really. I mean, we live on party row. Of course people are going to throw parties all night. "

I just want some peace. At least like an hour.

I push myself up from my spot on our couch. I'll just try asking nicer.

Once again, I find myself wandering through Ellie's house trying to find her. Eventually my eyes land on the brunette. Her head is tossed back from laughter, her blunt loosely hanging out of her fingers. She's manspreading on the couch, a guy snorting what I assume is coke next to her.

Her eyes eventually find mine as she scans the room. A small smirk makes its' way onto her face. She breathes in another puff from her blunt before releasing it in my direction.

God, even through the smoke she's hot.

" Look who's here guys, the cockblocker. " Ellie teases. " What can I do for you, babe? "

My stomach tumbles from the pet name. I can't tell if it's from nerves or from excitement.

I ignore the feeling, trying to focus on the reason I came over here.

" I wanted to see if we could work out a deal. " I stand a few feet away from the brunette, my eyes not leaving hers.

Ellie's eyes break contact as they scan me up and down. " A deal? " She leans forward, her full attention on me. " What kind of deal? " her eyebrow cocks up in curiosity.

" The kind where we both end up happy. You get to throw your parties and I get a full nights' sleep. "

Ellie stands up, taking a step closer to me. The faint scent of cologne and weed fills my nostrils. " Go on. "

" I'll pay you 100 bucks a week to shut the parties down at 10. Please. "

" No. " Ellie's voice is cool.

I furrow my eyebrows. " No? " I was really hoping she'd take the deal. I mean, who doesn't want free fucking money. The only thing she'd have to do is shut down the party. " What? Um, fine. I can probably do like 10 bucks more. But barely, I'd have to pick up a few more shifts. I- "

Ellie interrupts me. " I don't want your money, Y/N. "

" Then what do you want? " I ask, desperation in my tone. " I can't stay up like this anymore. I've-I've tried earplugs, white nose, everything. Fuck I- "

" I want you to go out with me. "

Ellie's words surprise me.

I search her face for any sign of a joke.

Her expression is serious. Her eyes stare into mine. A glinter of what I think might be worry or nervousness shining at me.

" What? "

Ellie repeats the words. " I want you to go out with me. I'll stop the parties if you go out with me. " She shrugs, pulling the blunt up to her slightly chapped lips.

My eyebrows furrow. " But why? "

Ellie rolls her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. " Because you clearly want to. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you check me out. Not that I have an issue, I think you're hot too. "

I feel heat burn against my cheeks. " I do not check you out. "

Ellie nods mockingly. " Sure you don't, babe. What I said still stands. If you go on a date with me, " She shrugs. " I'll stop the parties. "

" Completely? " I ask.

" Completely. " She confirms.

I'm silent for a minute. Ellie continues to look into my eyes, her confident exterior seeming to grow slightly less confident as the time goes on. She looks a little nervous. I've never seen her like this before.

" Fine. " I finally talk. " I'll go out with you. "

Relief flashes across Ellie's face. " Alright. " She grins. " Friday sound good? "

I nod. " Friday. "

Hopefully this is worth it.

Tag: @macaroni676

[starsenha]

DUET - home (chapter 11)

You trudged home, your thoughts swirling with frustration. Jay's sudden coldness had completely threw you off. You had been getting along pretty decently lately, but the fact that he prefered hanging out with Yuna out of all people instead of working with you made it even worse.

As you approached your doorstep, you tried to shake off the thoughts. There was no point in dewelling on it now, you just needed to rest and clear your head.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside, slipping off your shoes and hanging your bag. The house was mostly quiet, just the faint sound of TV playing in the living room. You mom was sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in hand.

"Yn? You're home early," your mom said, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Shouldn't you be at practice?"

You sighed, forcing a small smile as you walked over to the couch. "My partner canceled practice last minute, so i figure i'd take the evening to rest, I've been exhausted lately."

You mom's expression immediately shifted from surprise to disapproval. "Rest? You can't afford to waste time like this. If your partner canceled, you should be using this opportunity to practice on your own. You need to be at your best for regionals."

Your heart sank at her words, but you kept your head down, knowing better than to argue with her. "I know, mom," you said quietly. "But I'm really tired. I thought it would be better to take a break today so I can be more focused tomorrow."

Your mom set down her tea with a slight thud, her lips pursed in a thin line. “That’s not the attitude of someone who wants to be the best, Yn. You can’t just rest every time you feel a little tired. Your brother doesn’t make excuses like that, and look at how well he’s doing.”

You flicnhed at the mention of your brother, but you kept your gaze fixed on the floor. You had heard this comparison a million times before, and it never got any easier to swallow. "Yes, mom," you murmured, keeping your voice as steady as you could. "I'll do better."

Your mom didn’t respond, simply giving her a curt nod before picking up her tea again. You took that as your cue to leave, slipping away toward your room as quickly and quietly as possible. The last thing you wanted was to get into an argument, especially when you were already feeling down.

As soon as you were in the privacy of your room, you let out a long breath, leaning back against the door. The familiar comfort of your space didn’t do much to ease the tight knot of frustration in your chest. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything to release the tension, but instead, you just walked over to your bed and sat down heavily.

A few minuted later, you heard a know on the door and Riki poked his head in. "Can I come in?"

You looked up, managing a weak smile for your younger brother. "Sure, little thing. What's up?"

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He was still in his casual clothes, clearly having not gone to practice either. “I was just wondering why you’re home so early. I thought you had practice?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I did, but Jay canceled last minute. Something came apparently, so I figured I’d take the time to rest. Mom wasn’t too happy about it, though.”

Riki frowned, sitting down beside you on your bed. “She wasn’t happy? Why? You’ve been working your ass off. You deserve a break.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, you know how Mom is. She thinks every minute not spent practicing is a wasted opportunity. I tried to tell her I was exhausted, but she just compared me to you again. Said you wouldn’t make excuses like that.”

Riki’s frown deepened. “That’s not fair. I didn’t go to practice today either, and Mom was the one who told me to rest. She said it was important for me to take care of myself so I don’t get burned out before regionals.”

Your heart ached at the blatant favoritism, but you forced herself to smile for Riki’s sake. “That’s great, Riki. I’m glad she’s looking out for you.”

Riki looked at you, his expression troubled. “Yn, it’s not right. You’re working just as hard—harder, even. You should be allowed to rest too.”

You shurgged, trying to brush it off. "Its whatever honestly. I'm used to it by now. I just need to keep pushing myself. It’s not like I can change Mom’s mind.”

He shook his head, clearly frustrated. “It’s still not fair. You shouldn’t have to deal with that. I wish I could do something about it.”

You reached out and ruffled his hair, your smile softening. “You’re sweet, little one. But it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I just need to rest tonight and get my energy back. I’ll be ready to go tomorrow.”

He sighed, but he nodded, leaning back against the headboard. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself too, okay? I don’t want to see you burn out.”

You nodded, feeling a warm rush of affection for your brother. “I promise, Riki. I’ll be okay. Thanks for checking on me.”

Dinner came quicker than you expected. You quietly picked at your food, your thoughts still lingering on the events of the day.

Your dad cleared his throat after a few bites of his mean, looking at you across the table. “So, Yn, how’s practice going? Are you and your partner ready for regionals?”

You perked up at the question, eager to share how things had been improving with Jay despite today’s hiccup. “Actually, practice has been going well. My partner and I have been working hard on our duet, and we’ve made a lot of progress. We’re really starting to—”

Before you could finish her sentence, your father cut you off, turning his attention to Riki. “That’s good, that’s good. Riki, how’s your solo coming along? You’ve been practicing that new routine, right?”

Your voice faltered, and you pressed your lips together, the words dying in your throat. You forced yourself to remain calm, even though the interruption stung. It was so typical—conversations about you always seemed to take a backseat to Riki.

Riki glanced at you, his expression apologetic, but he answered his father’s question. “Yeah, the solo’s going well. I’m trying to perfect that tricky move in the middle, but I’m getting there. I should have it down by the end of the week.”

Your dad nodded, looking pleased. “That's my boy. You need to keep pushing yourself, Riki. Regionals are just around the corner, and we can’t afford any mistakes.”

You swallowed her frustration and took a deep breath. You waited for a moment, hoping there would be a lull in the conversation so you could share your news. After a few more bites, you decided to try again.

“Oh, and I almost forgot to mention—I aced my literature exam this week! The professor said my essay was one of the best in the class,” You said, her voice tinged with pride. You hoped this small victory would be acknowledged.

But before your words could fully sink in, your mom, spoke up, completely ignoring your announcement. “Riki, have you decided on the costume for your solo? We need to make sure it complements your routine perfectly.”

Your heart sank as your mother’s words drowned out your own. You bit her lip, fighting back the disappointment that welled up inside her. It was as if your accomplishments outside of dance didn’t matter at all. You knew better than to argue or push the issue, but it didn’t make the hurt any less.

Riki noticed your reaction and tried to steer the conversation back to you. “Mom, Dad, Yn’s been working really hard too. Her duet is coming along great, and she’s also doing amazing in her studies. I think it’s awesome how she’s balancing everything.”

Your mom barely acknowledged Riki’s attempt. “That’s nice, Riki, but you should focus on your own performance. As for Yn,” she finally turned to you, “you need to remember that dance is what really matters. It’s good that you’re doing well in your studies, whatever theyr are, but you should be putting more effort into your routine. Regionals are coming up fast.”

You nodded silently, your appetite fading as the conversation continued without you. You knew there was no point in arguing; your parents had always made it clear where their priorities lay. The message was always the same—dance was the only thing that truly mattered.

previous / m.list / next

taglist: @sincerely-sunny @realrintaro @onlyhyunjin @mari-oclock @jooniesbears-blog @isa942572

[doberbutts]

Can I ask what's making you uneasy? Is it a personal discomfort like, "theres nothing necessarily wrong it just makes me uncomfortable" or like, something actually wrong and you don't have the words/energy to speak up?

It is mostly that right now there is not really any escape in my tracked tags. My trans guy tags are full of transphobia and personal attacks and petty arguments. My fandom tags are filled with racism and sexism and people who seem to be addicted to generating baseless hate for no reason. My dog tags have always been slow since I'm the most active dobe blog on here so other dobe content tends to come as a trickle- and right now the most popular post is yet another crop/dock debate that I refuse to get involved in.

I come on tumblr to have fun, not to raise my blood pressure and be frustrated all the time. I want to talk about dogs, I want to talk about my life, without feeling like I have to defend my every sentence or very existence.

And there is no escape off tumblr either. Facebook is a cesspit of manufactured hate and AI nonsense. AI "news" is all the rage right now and what's not AI is often wank-bait and deliberate pot-stirring. The youtube channels I typically watch are affected by the strike so they're pretty quiet right now (which is fine it just means I can't lean on them). I'm facing some moral dilemmas about the shows I want to watch. So right now it is books and videogames for my late night/early morning entertainment.

People are so mean-spirited and it bums me out. I don't want to be somewhere that people are this mean all the time for no reason. I talk about how an older butch I know came out to me as nonbinary and I get five different asks telling me to kill myself. I post photos of my dog having fun in training and I get three different asks trying to bait me into an argument I've already said I won't have. I post a photo of me and I have to go on a blocking spree due to people insulting my looks and my body. I have a spirited and highly opinionated discussion with someone I thought I was friendly with, only for them to insult and block me and then go on tirades about how awful I am while I can't do anything in my own defense. I talk about something I've personally experienced and people crawl out of the woodwork to either tell me I'm faking it or to tell me that it doesn't matter that it happened to me. I don't like this. I don't like what people have become.

So I am assigning myself some "touch grass" and "go outside" and "hang out in meatspace with people you know you like" and "do activities that make you happy instead" until I can feel happy on social media again.

[yanderederee]

I want a yandere too. I want someone to love me even with my flaws, bc I tend to lose focus and I do things last min and I'm neurodivegent and I feel like most of my yanderes (especially baji) wouldn't judge me or see my as weird.

Just wanted to pit this out there bc I saw your tags on my last asks and I wanted to respond to that and ig start a discussion or suggestion?

I hope u accept.

For a while now, I’ve been shifting this ask through my head to conjure a proper response …

For starters, I forgot Yandere was part of the prompt I started writing; so I see this as headcanon in Baji’s actions/reactions in types of situation. I could write a whole separate indulgence piece on how yandere!Baji would develop past this:)

I find myself taking a realistic approach to it all. At first/in youth, I don’t think Baji has enough maturity to really understand other people’s neurological/psychological struggles. He’ll understand there’s some tension in those aspects, but I feel that Baji would be quick to frustrate.

Baji doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly giving him the cold shoulder, when in reality you’ve found yourself non-verbal. It wasn’t that fucking hard to place a food order?

Let Baji be dramatic at first. Let him pick apart what’s actually happening.

Once he sees the way you struggle and try to muster the courage to ask for a refill of your drink, he’s in awe with how relieved and proud of yourself you are after managing the small task.

He’d probably seem pissed off and go quiet himself, but it’s cause Baji is mulling the idea over in his head how you can’t to feel that way.

“What gets you so nervous about being in public anyway?” Baji asks blatantly.

You felt this question at the tip of his tongue all day, and while his actions were putting you more on edge, you noticed little details.

You would notice how his tone is lower, not scowling or rolling his eyes at you anymore. You could tell he felt guilty for his immaturity, after his own actions and choice of words.

Just, the way you were so quick to put up your defenses confused him.

“There’s a lot of … unknowns, I guess.. it doesn’t really make sense to me either, Keisuke… I just— my body reacts like I’m doing something, wrong. Like, I’m inconveniencing everyone around me. If I wasn’t standing here, If I wasn’t taking up someone else’s time, other people’s lives would be more… convenient.”

You could tell you were barely getting anywhere with him, but he was trying to understand. So you kept trying to help him understand.

“L-like even now… if I hadn’t dragged you out to hang out with me today, your time could have been better spent. Mikey and Draken invited you out right? But you declined on my behalf..” you smiled, but that same tinge of guilt hit hard.

“Yeah, doing the same lame shit I’ve done for the last week, no creative pass times with those bone heads sometimes,” he laughed. “You don’t think I’m having fun now?” Baji asked.

“Well, it can be hard to tell,” you chuckled back, weary of meeting his gaze. “I can’t really tell if I’m being entertaining enough, or when people get tired of my needless input. I’m.. kinda slow, I guess, I lose focus on what’s happening sometimes and suddenly I’m not on the same page as everyone anymore. But, like, with everything.”

“Does that make sense?” You sighed, heart palpitating in suspense.

It felt good to vent out all the things that made you anxious, especially when you can’t tell why most of the time. Maybe in time, it would.

Baji cycled through your words, silently.

“I… think so.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

“That part of you’s kinda, what I like about you, though?”

Your eyes twitched, and with an unbelieving look, you eye him cautiously.

“Like yesterday, when you spaced out while Chifuyu and I were arguing about Gekijyo, you suddenly jumped right in with a whole other thing from left field. It was hilarious, but I just remember thinking, ‘who the hell thinks of stuff like that?!’ In-in a good way… you’re pretty smart, yaknow. I really respect the way you handle yourself when you’re caught off guard.”

“Honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, how you go through live so cautiously and worried all the time. But you make smart analysis out of situations that seem unwindable, and,” Baji held out his hand, and carefully pulled a stray hair from your face.

“I just can’t help but like you. You’re funny, and encouraging. When you’re comfortable, you shine. I see so much passion in you, and can’t help wanting to fuel that part of you.”

Baji gently pressed his palm against your cheek.

Sure, little things could sweep you up in thought, distracting you to the point of frustration. So long as he could keep quipping back and forth, laughing, and watching you smile so genuinely— Baji imagined he could take on some of those struggles of your behalf. Maybe, with just a little weight lifted off your conscious, he could watch you grow and eventually take them on with ease, with a smile.

꘏

Over time, Baji would pick up on any stims you had, if you had any.

Started picking up on signs that something was becoming too hard for you to handle, or perhaps comprehend.

He learned your mannerisms, and how to talk out down from any panics you may undergo.

Baji takes it upon himself to learn about the people he cherishes.

He doesn’t drop people because they’re too hard to deal with. Baji doesn’t break off ties, especially when he can tell you’re working through struggles. Physical and psychological.

Baji Keisuke would eventually become surprising attentive, but mostly only with his partner.

He doesn’t walk on egg shells around them, but he will reconsider if he’s acting too harshly.

[rezdragon]

Hello! My name is RezDragon, and you've found your way to my update social. I use this space as a sort of live blog for projects I'm working on, as well as give by the day updates on current and new projects. I occasionally reblog posts here, but they're always either related to creating/art, or are related to my work in some way. Reblogs are tagged with "reblogs" if you want to blacklist those posts and not see them.

So what is it that I do? I'm an artist is the easiest way to explain it, working with all sorts of different mediums to express myself, my emotions, and how I feel. Sometimes stories come out. A lot of my work has a heavy focus on mental health and other such dark topics that come along with it. Being a person who suffers from mental health disorders myself, I want to tell my story, share my darkness, and get it out of my system. I share this with the world in hopes of it being cathartic for others as well, giving them a safe space to retreat to the dark if they need it.

In other words, Vent Art is the primary focus of my entire body of work. If that ain't your thing, I highly suggest you do not continue, you won't like it here.

All of the work I post is filtered under specific tags here, they are as followed:

Rez Art - All of the visual art I post here, whether its vector art or photomanipulation. Films - When I release something on my Youtube, I post it here too. Music - When I release a new track, it goes under this tag. Audio - Generic tag for any audio posts that are not music; things such as bloopers, weird sounds I find, etc. Deep Dives - Randomly I'll just write a big article about either a particular piece of work, or theme in my work. These are tagged under this. Collections - Sometimes I post about my little collections and file them under this.

My tumblr is the catch all for EVERYTHING I do, but you can find me elsewhere doing more specific things.

Sheezy - Where I post my visual art, sometimes music, mostly art. I also have an Instagram, but I pretty much only use that as a portfolio (i.e. only my best stuff gets posted there). I am SUPER active on Sheezy. Youtube - Films & Full albums mostly, although I also make videos where I take a deeper look into my work, as well as explaining some of my creative process. Bandcamp & Music Youtube - Music only places. Bandcamp only gets updated with new albums. Music Youtube gets updated with new tracks. Newgrounds - Mostly post music there; it's where you can get the downloads to singles that aren't on an album yet. BlueSky - Another catch all, kinda just there to hang out.

Get to know my cast of idiots

Rez Addison - Protagonist of The Disaster Archives. Angry and sad all the time, takes out her frustrations with her gun, and stinks. She stole my name, don't worry about it. Ash - She is both the protagonist of Running With the Devil and my Smashsona, but each version are two separate people. Confusing, I know. RWTD Ash is a cat that bites, but also hates herself more than anything. Persona Ash is a god and does not care about anything other than death. Here's a helpful graph on their differences. Orintheous - Antagonist of Orintheous' Revenge and my oldest character period (first made in 2002). Angry grandma who drinks and hates Rez Addison with a passion. There's way more than that, but these are the most important three to remember as they're referenced the most.

None of these characters exist in the same universe, but sometimes I make art where they cross over. For fun.

"Hey, question, are you a Persona 5 fan or something? What's with all the Joker?"

Short answer: No, I'm a Joker main in Smash and he's my gender. Long answer:

Thanks for stopping by!

[luckyduckydyke]

Vent about disability, ableism, and grief ahead, proceed with caution.

I do understand why my mother doesn't want or like to think of me as disabled. A lot of my symptoms and problems came about recently, or, at least I masked and sucked it up and tried not to complain until it got so bad that that just wasn't feasible anymore. And she wants my life to be healthy, easy, and above all else, happy. Unfortunately, those first two aren't always feasible for me. Sometimes even the third one feels out of reach. But as soon as I express that, express any kind of frustration, she meets me with pushback. She says I have to push through, or I need to have a positive attitude, or wouldn't some fresh air and a Tylenol make you feel better? Have you tried getting some sleep? Maybe you're just not taking care of yourself. We had a discussion about it just yesterday evening, and I do think it will get better. I just wish it didn't come at the expense of interpersonal friction between myself and my only living parent. I just wish my dad were here to calm both of us, to be the voice of reason as he and my mom so often took turns doing. I wish he were here to tell me it's going to be okay. I want a hug, but not just any hug. I want one from him. I couldn't sleep last night because I took my first dose of my first ever ADHD stimulant yesterday morning. When it wore off, I crashed, right around 11pm. I didn't start to feel sleepy until about 6am, though, so I just killed time mindlessly through the night. I'm going to keep taking it, but at this point in time, the benefits just don't seem to be worth the cost. And I'm away from home for the night (last night), so I'm missing my fianceé terribly. I don't know, this is a mess, but I think the point I was trying to make is that, sometimes you lose people, or people fail to understand you, or your Most Important Person can't be there 24/7. And that sucks. But the ones who try are worth hanging onto for as long as possible. My mom is going to try to be a better ally, and I trust her on that. My fianceé is there a good 90% of the time, and that is more than enough. My sibling is always trying to help me. My sister loves me enough to put up with me using her as my middle man for getting my fianceé some of that Devil's Lettuce when they hurt too bad to function. My dad is gone, but that's not his fault, and if it happens in my lifetime, I will celebrate the day humanity cures cancer in his honor. I may not be able to make work or be very productive right now, but hopefully that'll change. Either way, I'm getting married soon. My life is just beginning. There's so much left for me, even if I get more than my share of chronic pain in my life, even if I struggle daily with anxiety and executive function and social cues for the rest of my life. I want to live, not just survive. I hope I get to see a world where I, and all other people like me, are allowed that much.

P.S. I am physically disabled AND neurodivergent. This post is not about one or the other, so you won't be derailing by just talking about one, and I don't mind if people derail anyway, as it was all over the place from the very beginning. Talked about my dad more than I meant to. But hopefully, someone will relate.

[libraryledge]

Please, Please, Please (A Bikeriders Story) Pt 1

A/N: I'm a big fan of Sabrina Carpenter and her song, "Please, Please Please". I thought it'd be fun to do a story about Kathy and Benny from The Bikeriders inspired by the lyrics in the song.(Contains minor spoilers from the film.)

I walk into the county jail, and I'm immediately escorted to the calling booth by one of the officers. They already know me by name, which should be no surprise considering who I'm about to visit. You, Benny Cross, one of the youngest members of the biker’s club, the Vandals. You've been arrested more times than I can count. At this point, it's just another Tuesday afternoon for me. 

I consider myself to be a person of good judgment and taste. It’s funny and ironic that only I feel this way. People tell me I should leave you because you'll never change. However, I tell them that you're different. After all, everyone makes mistakes, but I keep praying that you just don't.

You wear so many disguises. Maybe you should have become an actor. I wish you'd pull the best performance of your life and act like a stand-up guy. Every time you head out with your friends, I plead whatever devil's inside you, not come out for the night. I've used the turbulence of motorcycle culture as an excuse one too many times that by now, everyone rolls their eyes. I know I wouldn't buy my explanation either. 

I sit at the booth and pick up the phone. Your blue eyes stare back at me as you ramble on about running seven red lights and leading the police through a chase downtown. I shake my head and think about all the red flags I raced past myself when I chose to marry you. I knew better. 

“All I'm asking Benny is please, please, please don't prove I'm right,” I say with a roll of my eyes, as I voice my frustration. 

I listen through the phone as you continue to tell your side of the story. When you finish, I sigh and point to my face, which has half done mascara and lipstick upon it

“You see this? I was eagerly getting ready for our date, and what do I get in return? A call from the police station saying you’ve been arrested. Don’t bring me to tears when I just wanted to do my makeup so nice,” I say in exasperation. 

You give me a look that is both apologetic and amused, and I return the gesture with a stern gaze. 

“Listen, I've heard enough of your sob stories for them not to have an effect on me. Heartbreak is one thing. My ego’s another. I used to be respected. Now, all of the neighbors gossip about Kathy and her troublemaking husband. I have a reputation to uphold,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“So do I,” you reply with a twinge of annoyance. “Those guys were insulting my colors, Kathy. You always tell me to stand up for what’s right.”

“Yes, but not to break the law! You sped through a school zone and delayed traffic for over an hour. Do you think I have money growing out of my ears? How are we going to afford to bail you out?”

“I can call Johnny and the guys and see if they can give me a hand,” you reply with an almost sheepish look upon your face. 

I sigh. “Fine. Just stay out of trouble, and I beg you. Don’t embarrass me mother-”

Benny hangs up the phone and cuts me off, knowing what was about to come out of my mouth. I frown at him through the glass of the calling booth. He shrugs playfully and gives me a lopsided grin.

I shake my head, trying to suppress a smile of my own. It’s that stupid smirk of his that gets me every time. Benny is a sweetheart. If only he could get his head screwed on straight. He may love a good street chase, but the way he makes my heart race could give his motorcycle a run for its money.

[sheepwithspecs]

FFXIV Write Day 2

Prompt: Horizon Ship: wolgraha (sort of?) Summary: "People like you were born to chase the horizon." MINOR 7.0 DAWNTRAIL SPOILERS

“—and that’s the whole of it, really.” Eachna sighed, rolling her neck in an attempt to get the last of the stiffness out. The evening was warm, the soft sound of rolling waves contrasting with the faint hum of activity from the harbor. In her short time in Tuliyollal, she’d quickly come to love the view of the beach from her room in the For'ard Cabins; she sat there now, legs hanging from the side of the deck, basking in the waning sunlight.

“Lamat’yi’s come to rely on me, I can tell. I don’t want to hurt her, but… I can’t stay, either. Not forever.” She turned to her companion for the evening, head resting on her shoulder with a practiced ease that belied her looming anxiety. “I don’t know what to tell her, or even how to tell her. And with Koana pressuring me into giving her the answer she wants, I don’t even….” She trailed off, shaking her head forlornly. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“It’s not an easy situation, is it?” G’raha rested his elbows on his knees, leaning out over the clear waters as he thought. “It’s hard to say no to one’s friends… and you certainly don’t want to hurt her feelings, especially after everything the two of you have been through together. But a coeurl cannot change its spots, so to speak. It wouldn’t be like you to stay in one place indefinitely.”

“I’m not diplomatic, Raha.” Resting her chin in her hand, she let out another heartfelt sigh. “I’m not exactly good with my words, not like you or Alphinaud. But I don’t want to run away without a proper farewell, either.” G’raha chuckled despite himself, fingers pressed against his lips as a distant memory came to the forefront of his mind.

“You know… it was Alphinaud who helped me understand you, once.”

“Hmm?” Eachna turned to look at him, her head tilted in confusion. He smiled at her, eyes drawn to the three braids that held her bangs out of her face. He liked the symmetry; they reminded him of the clips holding his hair back. Mirrored images of one another, however unintentional it may have been. “What do you mean?” she prompted, when he gave no ready answer.

“When I first woke up—when I was convalescing in the Rising Stones, I mean—there was a time where it seemed that no matter how often I sought you out, you were never there. I suppose there was a small part of me that thought… hoped… that things would stay the way they’d been in Norvrandt.”

“I still don’t understand—”

“I only mean that you never seemed far from reach, in the First. If I could not find you in the Crystarium, I could always seek you out in the mirror, or reach out to one of the others, or ask Fao Ul. But when I found myself able to wander the Toll, things were different. You’d be there one day, only to be gone the next, and with no one able to tell me exactly where you’d gone. The other Scions tried to explain it to me, in their own ways, but if anything it only made me more frustrated. It felt like no one seemed to care that you just vanished and reappeared like nothing ever happened.”

“Raha… why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it wouldn’t have done any good. It’s in your nature to come and go… I just didn’t understand it at the time.” He looked out across the bay, over the distant whitecaps, to where the first stars of evening were mirrored in the rippling line of the sea. “It was Alphinaud who comforted me, on an evening much like this one. I was sitting alone by the lake—more like sulking, really—when he joined me out of nowhere.”

“We all miss her, in our own way.” That’s what he said. “Some of us more than others… but if there’s anything you can count on, it’s that she’ll come back to us when we need her.” And he was right. You’ve always came back to us.”

“Oh, Alphinaud… that dear boy.” She smiled, though it was more of a grimace. “I’m afraid I’ve caused you both more pain than you deserve. The others, too.” G’raha shook his head.

“No, no. People like you were born to chase the horizon. It’s the rest of us that have to make our peace with that.”

“But once we do, we realize that love can stretch almost indefinitely… to the ends of the universe and back again. I will admit,” he chuckled sheepishly, “I never enjoy watching you go. But I realized long ago that if I were to acknowledge these feelings I have for you, I’d have to learn to wave you off with a smile. I rest easy in the knowledge that if you do need me, you won’t hesitate to call.”

“And I rest easy in the knowledge that you’ll move the stars in the heavens to reach me, no matter where I am.” She bumped him affectionately with her shoulder. “Even if that means carrying everyone else along for the ride.”

“That’s right.” They were quiet for a long moment, shoulder to shoulder as they watched the fish swimming circles below their feet. “Just tell her honestly, from your heart. Wuk Lamat will understand.”

“The Second Promise, though….”

“Eachna, you’re the Warrior of Light. You’ve traveled to the edge of the universe and fought despair herself… and won! I can’t believe you’re cowering at the thought of a man nearly half your size.”  

“Why are you looking at me like that?! If I’ve learned anything in Tural, it’s that brothers can be very intimidating….”  

Author's Note: I think it's good Wuk Lamat figured out on her own that the WoL was not about to hang around Tural forever bc that was literally Eachna's nightmare scenario??? She doesn't stay very long in any one place so it would be interesting to think about what those who care about her feel when she goes.

[howlingday]

Huntsman Branwen

Jaune: Sir, come quick! There's a murderer on the loose!

Tyrian: (Gunning down innocent people)

Jaune: Please, do something!

Qrow: You got nothing to worry about, kid. Huntsman Branwen is on the case.

Jaune: ...Okay?

Qrow: Good afternoon, sir. You, uh, have a second?

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Sure, what's up?

Qrow: Well, sir, and pardon me for the intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice you're, uh, kinda firing randomly into this highly populated part of town.

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Mhm.

Qrow: See, I don't like to start my chit-chat's with the hard questions, but considering the circumstances, can I ask if that might have to do with the multiple dead laying around.

Tyrian: (Still shooting) I really don't have time for baseless accusations, huntsman.

Jaune: What are you-?!

Qrow: See, that's fair. Believe me, I fully understand your frustration. But I just can't shake the feeling there's something going on here. Would you mind answering a few more questions? I promise, it won't take more than a few seconds.

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Yeah, sure.

Jaune: He's got a gun! He's actively shooting peop- HOLY SHIT!

Qrow: All circumstantial, kid.

Jaune: Wh-?

Qrow: Trust me. I'll get a confession out of him yet.

Jaune: What?!

Qrow: Now, Mister... Ah, now this is so embarrassing. I'm real sorry but I don't remember catching your name. Mind reminding me?

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Salem.

Qrow: Ah, yeah, that's it! Mr. Salem! Now what brings you out on this beautiful day?

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Oh, you know, just out executing the will of our goddess upon the unworthy. Not really trying to reinvent the wheel here. Oh, hang on! (Fires) Almost got ya, ya slippery bastard.

Jaune: DO SOMETHING!

Qrow: Kid, what does it look like I'm doing?

Jaune: Like you're interviewing an active shooter!

Qrow: Your knowledge of the justice system scares me, kid.

Jaune: WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!

Qrow: Y'know, I'm not stickler for fashion- just ask my husband, I've been wearing the same coat for forty-eight years now- but I gotta ask; what's with the tattoo?

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Oh, I'm so glad you asked! See, the tattoo represents-

Jaune: WHO CARES ABOUT THE TATTOO?! HE'S STILL GOING!

Qrow: Kid, I'm gonna need ya to calm down. I'm so sorry about my friend here. He gets nervous during active shootings.

Tyrian: (Still shooting) No, no! It's cool! Hey, mental health comes first.

Jaune: BRANWEN!

Tyrian: (Still shooting) Listen, I'd love to stay and chat, but I do kinda need to get going. Kinda gotta go blow my brains out in that McSchnees before the pigs catch me.

Qrow: Totally understandable, sir. You have a nice day. Oh, uh, before you go, I do have one more question. See, there's this one little detail that just keeps bothering me, so maybe you could help. See, I might be a huntsman, but I've seen my fair share of homicides.

Jaune: Nobody is surprised by that.

Qrow: So when I see a body with a bullet in their noggin, I have reason to believe a gun might be at play. I also recognize by the bullet casing scattered across the street tell me that either somebody is dropping rounds all willy nilly, which believe me, is rare, or they belong to a twin-barrel gunpowder hand-cannon with an eight-inch barrel... which just so happens to be in your hands.

Tyrian: (Stops shooting) ...What are you getting at, Huntsman?

Qrow: Honestly, I'm not too sure myself, but I see all this, and trust me, it does no good on my conscience to suspect an innocent man, so answer me this one question. If there's a plethora of dead men, women, and children, all shot dead with bullets I bet I could trace to your guns with your hands on the triggers after witnessing you shooting said deceased with my own eyes... Then how come your coat is inside out?

Jaune: Everything up to this point has been meaningless.

Qrow: Now, if you'll excuse me. I'll be coming back with a warrant.

Jaune: BRANWEN, YOU FUCKING IDIOT- (Shot dead)

Qrow: Hm... I think I just about cracked this- (Shot dead)

[academyofbrokenhearts]

Extra thoughts about Nevertheless

Disclaimer: I did not read the original webtoon, this post is only about the K-drama.

I really liked it, in spite of featuring the two most frustrating characters in history as the mains.

Adult me was constantly rolling her eyes every 20 minutes or so, being all like "oh dear, here we go again, she assumes things and builds up frustration until she either explodes or ignores him completely, and he just shuts up and doesn't share his thoughts or his feelings, and they just PINE in silence and oh lord, this is exhausting".

But my inner twenty something year old? SHE WAS ELATED.

While watching the first episodes, I noticed that for the most part, it's not Jae-eon's actions per se that turn Na-bi away - it's her misinterpretation of those actions, and the opinions of others that turn her away, because other than that, they get along quite well. I'm not saying he's completely innocent in all that transpires - far from it, even, because he does have a tendency to shut down when she assumes the worst, and also to not communicate properly (telling the person he likes that he likes her? too mainstream), so of course they're bound to argue more often than not. However, she's not stellar at communication either - she assumes things, doesn't speak up on what she actually wants (her internal monologue "why can't you my boyfriend?" remains internal, she doesn't actually ask him out until the last episode), and ignores him when she's upset. And yet, as frustrating as this is, I can see where she comes from. I absolutely hate it, don't get me wrong, but I get it.

Having grown up in a quite conservative society myself (although Eastern European rather than Asian), I found Na-bi's thought process so incredibly familiar. As women, we are taught to be ashamed of having sexual desires. Sexual desires are restricted (ideally) to marriage, with the second best thing being an official relationship - everything outside of that turns you into a slut (derogatory). Na-bi obviously is not familiar or comfortable with the concept of hanging out and dating casually (and having casual sex), and is also immensely uncomfortable with the thought that people might think she doesn't respect herself enough because she has a casual relationship (she has yet to reach that extremely liberating stage when you understand that no matter what you do as a woman, you will still be judged, so it's better to do whatever the hell you want). Also she (obviously) wants more than what she gets, she wants an actual relationship with Jae-eon, not only friends with benefits or whatever it is that they are (they never really define their initial encounters), but since she doesn't have enough guts to ask for it, she just asks him to keep everything a secret. And this ends up creating a disconnect not only between her and Jae-eon, but even between her and reality; for example, she accuses him of only wanting to see her when he wants, although she was the one who asked him to keep their encounters a secret, therefore limiting by default their interactions.

That's not to say Jae-eon isn't frustrating. I actually find him even more frustrating than she is, because I can't relate at all to him, and also, I don't feel like his backstory is expanded enough for me to understand where he comes from (his relationship with his mother is somewhat strained, and it's not entirely clear why he broke up with Seol-ah). I must say, however, that I encountered people like this in real life - people who seem friendly and have an incredible energy, but who are in fact very closed off and guarded, and who make you feel like you bang your head against a wall whenever you try to get closer to them. Jae-eon likes Na-bi, but doesn't really know what to do with those feelings, and is perfectly content with their initial encounters, which are very uncomplicated from his perspective (he gets all the domestic, blissful happiness, with none of the work required for an actual romantic relationship). Then, to his surprise, she ends everything, and distances herself from him, and he basically completely freaks out by the end of the show with jealousy and longing, and well... this is basically catnip to me personally (in a strictly fictional sense, I would have zero patience for such a guy in real life), because isn't "drive the normally aloof, cold guy completely out of his mind" a well-known trope for a reason? I loved to see him suffer, I loved to see him lash out, only to be reduced to tears when she says she regrets their relationship and having met him, and I loved beyond measure that at the end they both seem changed by their common experience, and put their desires and wishes clearly into words.

I also loved that the show acknowledges it's not going to be easy for them. They might be compatible in many ways, but their communication styles are bound to clash, and a happy ending is not necessarily in the cards. "I am going to suffer, most likely", their voiceovers tell us, "but whatever, I am going to do it anyway, I am going to take that leap of faith anyway", and I think it's this final conclusion that cemented me liking this entire thing. I don't find the relationship between the mains as toxic as most people seem to think; I rather saw it as a story of two people who are completely inexperienced in matters of romance and communication, who learn things as they go along, and whose reactions are shaped by their lives up until that point as well as the socio-cultural expectations around them. Frustrating? Greatly. But they still have room to grow, and whether they will grow together, or apart, it will still be worth it. That's the final message, I believe.

[koraesrambles]

GREAT READING ADVENTURE PART 1 (CW: pictures from the Sandman comics may be disturbing to some)

I started with the Sandman, by Neil Gaiman. A legend in comic spheres, and one that I'd been wanting to read for a while.

I found 10 volumes at my local library and have made my way through two of them so far. First off, as a horror book DAMN. DAAAAAAAAAAAAMN these books do not pull punches. They come at you like a gut punch and just keep going. I like to describe myself as someone who enjoys "horror lite" I love monsters, I love angst and crazy situations and some messed up stuff, but I'm kind of a baby about it. Things like Supernatural, Gravity Falls (It's kid friendly, but there's blood!), Buffy the Vampire Slayer, that's my jam (wow, that list makes me feel about 5 years old, but whatever! I like what I like!). The Sandman Is Not That.

The Writing

Don't get me wrong, it is beautiful in every way, but it's also a lot for a wussy like myself. I'm enthralled, captivated, unable to look away, but there have been multiple times where I've needed to close my eyes for a second and remind myself that this is a comic book, and the world isn't necessarily this dark all the time. I'm pretty triggered by children in danger/getting hurt/dying and these books don't shy away from that. But they're also just . . . so beautiful.

The writing is annoyingly amazing. I expected nothing less, it is Neil Gaiman, but sometimes as a writer you look at other people's writing and just sit back in awe. I wish I could write something like this. Or, if not exactly like this, something as beautiful and poignant as this. The story flows so beautifully. Every scene perfectly blending in with the next. Every word feels like it has a point, which makes you want to pay attention to everything to make sure you're not missing anything.

Writing is my main background, but comic writing is so different from prose. This is what I struggled with the most while drafting up OUTCAST ODYSSEY, how do I get everything across that I need to when I can't just write it all out? How do I pace it when telling a story with pictures vs words feels so different? But Neil does this so well. It felt lyrical, and I could see his influence on every single page. The art was done by someone else, but the ideas, the imagry, the way the story flows from one idea to the next, is all a result of absolutely phenomenal writing.

It reminded me to trust readers to read between the lines. It's difficult to find the line between "subtlty" and "confusing" and I am often guilty of feeling like I need to spell things out to my readers so that they won't miss anything, but more often then not that just slows down the plot and makes the whole experience clunky. You don't want to go too far in the other direction either, but Neil knew who his audience was and trusted them to at least give things a second glance. I was worried at the beginning that I'd be too dumb to figure out what he was hinting at, but he was able to patiently feed me the information without me getting frustrated or lost.

It's a skill that comes with experience and practice, but I feel like this story really really shines at it. I found myself studying the way he handled exposition and wanting to emulate it in my own work.

The Art

The art is also stunning. It's not "cute" art. It's not something that I would want to hang up in my house or look at for hours. It's amazing from a skill standpoint (which is easy for me to tell just due to my own extremely obvious shortcomings) but it's not concerned with everyone looking like hollywood movie stars.

Which . . . I mean, that's definitely a feature, not a bug. This story is not supposed to be cute, and a cutsy art style would absolutely ruin the atmosphere. It is rough and full of sharp points. it doesn't shy away from nudity or gore. The characters are not attractive, these are not anime stars, but they are compelling, and distinct enough that I was able to easily tell who everyone is, which is more often then not extremely difficult for me (i think I may be a bit face-blind).

The art adds to the horror of everything. Even when things are supposed to be calm, or sexy, or whatever, there's an edge of panic and unease to it. Part of that is the reader knowing that there's more going on behind the scenes then the character knows, but it's also the style. The heavy black shadows, the hard lines, the emphasis on some details while the obscuring of others, it all combines to perfectly compliment the writing. It's not a pleasure to look at, but that's absolutely the point. It's also extremely difficult to look away FROM. How can something simultaneously look jarring, eerie, and unpolished, while also whispering "Yes. This is beautiful art. Look at it. Bask in it."?

I'm a newbie artist. It's way beyond my skillset to even begin to figure out how they were able to accomplish this. But someday I hope I figure out the secret.

The art perfectly compliments the writing, and the two work together to tell the story. I remember feeling a little annoyed on the artists' behalf that the Sandman is always known as "Neil Gaiman's" when the art side of comics is so incredibly important. The art sets the tone and compliments the words. It helps with reading between the lines and helping us know how seriously we should be taking the words.

Characters

All of the characters are great! Except the ones I already knew. I'm not saying they were bad, just bland compared to everyone else. Constantine, the Justice League, every cameo that came up and I was excited for felt . . . not quite out of place, but not quite seamless either. I was most excited for Constantine, and he was fine, but I probably have enjoyed him more in every other comic I've ever seen him in. I know they were all included just to try and sell the first few issues of a new story, and I respect that (the amount of comics that I've read just because my favorite character showed up for a few panels is . . *cough* embarrassing), but I was kind of bummed by how little conflict they added to the story.

Constantine immediately agrees to help Morpheus (which, okay, he can see how powerful Morpheus is and doesn't want to get on his bad side, totally in character. But I like Constantine best when he's being a bit of a dickhead), when I was really expecting a bit of tension or at least antagonism between them. We briefly see Etrigan but he is so quickly outshined by Lucifer that I nearly forgot about him, Scarecrow shows up but I didn't really feel like he added much besides a familiar face, we see Scott Free (who I know very little about) and J'onn (whose reaction to Dream was probably the most interesting) but all they do is immediately tell Morpheus where he needs to go. Why were they so quick to be okay with this obviously terrifying powerful force just grabbing stuff? I guess I understand why J'onn was okay with it, since he knew who Morpheus was, but it still felt weird that there wasn't even a single moment of hesitation or resistance. They basically served as a plot GPS.

Again, there's nothing wrong with any of them, they just didn't feel as vibrant as all of the other characters we were introduced to. Even the woman who gave Dr. Destiny/Dr Dee a ride was more vivid and felt more real and purposeful than the cameos did. At least to me.

The original characters (or at least everyone I didn't recognize. Was Dr. Dee a Gaiman original or had he shown up previously? Cuz he was very much A tier villain for me,) were all amazing and vivid and lively. I cared about them way faster than I normally do, especially at the very beginning of a story. The cameos felt exactly like what they were: Cameos to sell the book.

Final Thoughts

This book is, objectively, better than anything I will ever create. And that's not even a diss on myself, it's just objective fact on the quality of this piece. I learned a lot looking through it, trying to figure out what Gaiman did that worked vs didn't. The lyricism vs crassness of the writing, the way the art complimented the dialogue, how the panels flowed and where it was easy for me to follow vs where I got a little confused. It's a beautiful book and I can absolutely see why it's a graphic novel must read. I'm planning on reading the rest of the series, but I can only read one volume a day, because the horror of it all absolutely follows me after I close the last page.

[kozukenkitten]

hi hi!! I saw your matchups are open and would like to request a haikyuu one please :)

I’m an introvert and have to go a few days without talking to people after prolonged socialising but I'm friendly and have no problem talking to strangers. My hobbies include gym, playing volleyball, and sleeping. I’m either active or in bed there is no in between lol. In terms of vibe, my friends tell me I have a princessy/bit of an airhead vibe since I dress girly and am a bit slow with jokes (I do study law though). I do my best to tease/banter but I often can't keep up RIP

I'm ambitious (not to be the best but to be respected) and a perfectionist with myself but laid-back when it comes to other matters. I'm usually ambivalent about most things and dont have a strong opinion about anything but when I fixate on something (like volleyball), I have to be GOOD at it and I can get obsessive doing that. I always look at the bright side of things and I love love supporting people in their passions. I don't like conflict but I don't have a problem facing it head on and prefer to talk things out. I'm the type that tends to be friends with both sides of people fighting.

I love love protective guys and want someone I admire.

Thank you !

Okay, so I'd match you with Kita Shinsuke from Inarizaki!

This guy is confident, contented, and steadfast. If you want someone who will watch over you and make you feel safe and protected, I don't know that I can think of anyone better than Kita.

You're very passionate, and so is Kita, but Kita's a bit more logical and calculating about it. He's the one making sure you don't push yourself too hard and get injured, stating "if you push too hard, you'll hurt yourself and won't be able to continue working toward your goals," a train of thought that is equally logical and frustrating regardless. He balances out your obsessive nature and helps rein it in.

He'll surprise you at times, with how well he can banter. You wouldn't expect it, with how dry-humored he is, but he's rather charming when he wants to be, in a sweet, steadfast kind of way that makes you feel warm and cozy and safe whenever you're with him.

You two would support each other at every turn, and he'd always be a gentleman, making sure you're protected and safe whenever he has a say in the matter. He adores you, and never wants to risk seeing you hurt - however, if you say you need to do something, despite the risk, he'll stand aside and do his best to support you and minimize the risk at your side.

Conflict? What's that? Kita has the Suna and the Miya brothers and all of the team reined in and on their best behavior whenever you come around during their practices, his disciplined nature and calm energy naturally settling over the entire team, at least partly because they all know he's going to scold them if they upset you. He doesn't tolerate that from anyone, least of all his teammates.

If you need time to yourself, Kita is happy to give it to you, whether you need a few days alone, or if you want to just vibe parallelly in the same space without direct interaction. He'll gladly watch volleyball match tapes and study them or reading or whatever while you do whatever you want to do. Y'all can hang out without socializing, or he can mind himself while you recover, whatever you prefer he's happy to oblige.