#and please please please stop judging things solely on the basis of them making you feel bad or it being morally blurred

[keravnos-kori]

x

[venomous--fics]

@geekgirlofarchangels Requested: Hi! (I just wanted to say that I love your writing, it's amazing)😍

Can I request Eddie Brock x reader, who bake sweets for him, basically try to show her love for him in many ways in a day to day basis, and when she decides to tell him that she loves him, she sees him with Anne and misunderstand everything.

She panics, but ends fluff? Sorry for any mistakes English is not my first language

A/N: No worries!! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!! Day 6! So many more to go!

"I think I need better piping tips." You said, looking over to Eddie for some reassurance.

The man had a one track mind, and right now, the only thing he could think of was the cookies you had in the oven. He's been staring at it for the last five minutes.

"A watched pot never boils." You said, finally catching his attention.

"And watched cookies never bake." he retorted turning around to look at the cake you'd be decorating, "I think it looks nice."

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"You're not just being cute and nice, right?"

"What would I gain from lying? Name one thing."

"More sweets?"

"That is true, but I don't have to lie to get those."

You rolled your eyes with a smile as you moved the cake to the other counter so that way you had room for the cookies. Before you, Eddie wasn't really the type of guy to have a sweet tooth, but oh boy you sure did change that. You worked at a bakery, and you were still practicing your skills any chance you got.

Eddie was a good and somewhat unbiased judge. He never lied to you, but he was never mean about anything either. If something needed worked on, he'd tell you nicely.

"Why are you stressing so much about your decorating skills anyways? I think you're amazing at it."

"My boss really wants me to start helping out in the decorating area..I was just worried that I was totally going to suck." You set your piping bag off to the side and wiped off your hands, "I just want to make sure I can do everything perfectly."

"You got this. It'll be a breeze for you. I mean, c'mon, look at it. It's really good."

You took a moment to really admire your cake. Yeah, it was pretty good.

Eddie really was so nice and loving to you. He was nothing like any of the other people you'd chosen to spend your time with before. Eddie actually wanted to do things with you, and he was constantly dragging you along for new adventures, and actually paid attention to your wants and needs.

You really liked him. Well, if you were being honest, you were really hopelessly in love with him. And you wanted to tell him, and you were sure he felt the same, but you really wanted to make it special.

Should you write it in icing on a cookie? Or maybe he was a bit tired of cookies. Maybe he'd expect you to do that since you're a baker and all. Maybe you should just tell him. Face to face.

You both left for work, saying your goodbyes and sharing a kiss or two. You were going to tell him after work. It'd finally be a weight off your chest to finally say just how you felt.

Despite having a seemingly normal day, you began to feel a little puzzled towards lunch. Normally, somehow, someway, Eddie always found his way to your work. It was bizarre how your lunch breaks always lined up, but you were sure he did that on purpose.

He didn't show up today, so you spent your break alone. You'd texted him to have a good rest of the day at work, but he never texted back. Maybe he just got busy, you told yourself.

You managed to clock out and make your way home, and still no response from Eddie. He wasn't even home yet. It was 6:45. Normally, he's home way before you. You shrugged it off as a late day at the office as you changed out of your work clothes.

Eddie got home at about 7:15 pm, and didn't say much as to why that was. He was his normal cheery self. He doted on you as usual, and you two ate together. Every thing was fine, but it didn't feel fine.

Things continued on like that for a few days. You had this persistent nagging feeling that Eddie was hiding something, and it was getting in the way of talking to him. It was getting far too annoying to ignore.

Today, one of your rare days off, you decided to hell with it. You were going to make Eddie a nice dinner and just tell him. Maybe then the nagging feeling would go away. Maybe you were just nervous because this was a huge thing to say, especially to Eddie.

You were making your way downtown, to the store, to pick up a few ingredients for dinner. Your list was short, so this really shouldn't take too long. You walked passed a café that you and Eddie frequented, and your body froze just a few steps passed the big front window. The hell was that?

You must've been seeing things. Surely you hadn't seen what you thought you saw, right? Not wanting to be seen, just in case your eyes weren't tricking you, you turned your body a little. You couldn't believe it. There was was. Even if all you saw was the back of his head, you knew it was him solely because of who was sitting across from him at the little table.

"Anne?" you asked yourself quietly.

She looked like she was in good spirits today. Her smile was warm and inviting as always, and it looked like she was chuckling at something Eddie had just said. You couldn't look away.

Why would he do this to you? Are you really surprised? After all, he did love her first. Maybe he never really loved you to begin with.

You made your way back to the apartment to gather your thoughts. There was to be a rational explanation for this. They weren't doing anything bad, but, you did find yourself worrying because...Well, you know, it was Anne.

For the first time in years, you felt angry. How could he do that to you? You should just leave and just call him later and tell him that you're never coming back. You froze halfway to the door once you realized what had really happened. Eddie chose her. And you knew that time after time he'd do it again.

You felt stupid. You felt a few tears slip out and you tried to fight them off, but that only seemed to make it worse. The door opened, and the sound of keys hitting the counter caught your attention.

"Oh!" Eddie said, "You're home! Good, I have- Hey, are you okay?"

You just stared at him.

He walked over, attempting to comfort you, but you took a few steps back, causing him to freeze. He looked wounded.

"Did something happen?" he asked, lowering his hands.

"I don't know," You said bitterly, "Why don't you go ask Anne?"

"Anne?" Then it registered, "Oh! Oh, no, babe, that's-"

"I don't want to hear any excuses, Eddie! How could you do that to me? How could you string me along and then just backstab me like that."

"No!" He really wanted to hold you, but he knew he had to refrain, "No, no, no! It wasn't like that. I swear!"

"I can't even look at you." You rushed into the bedroom, slamming the door. "God! I'm so, so stupid!"

Eddie listened to your slightly muffled yelling for a minute or two before moving over to the door to open it.

"I shouldn't even be here anymore!" You shouted, throwing open the door, "I have to go."

You tried to move past Eddie, but as a reflex, he grabbed your arm, "Please don't do that."

You tugged and pulled, but you couldn't wiggle free. He wasn't holding too tight, and he wasn't hurting you. You just couldn't get free, "Let go of me!"

"I swear I'd never do that to you!" He pleaded, "Will you just let me explain?"

You stopped fighting and just stared helplessly ahead, "What is there to explain, huh? You don't love me like I love you, so there's nothing left to talk about."

"You love me?"

"Of course I do! But it's obvious that you don't love me! So, just, let go!"

"I love you too!" He said loudly.

It's like the whole world stopped in that moment as your head whipped around to look at him. He looked like his whole world was about to end. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go down.

"I love you." he repeated, "I- I'm so sorry I didn't say it sooner. I..I got nervous so I, as stupid as it sounds, I went to Anne for advice."

Your whole body relaxed as you listened to him.

"I wasn't sure how to say it- Or, I guess, say it right." Eddie sighed a little, "I asked her what I should do. She was always better at this stuff. She gave me this bright idea of a movie and dinner...But it seems like that's all out the window now."

You realized your mistake, "Eddie, I'm sorry...I didn't want it to happen like this either. I had a plan too, and I guess I ruined it."

"I should've just told you. I was just scared you wouldn't feel the same."

"Wouldn't feel the same?" You wanted to sound offended at the thought, "Eddie, why do you think I do all these nice things for you? I wanted to tell you for ages, but I just couldn't."

Eddie let go of your arm, and pulled you into a hug. He hugged you like his life depended on it. You hugged back before sighing, "This really isn't how I wanted this to go."

"I know." he said, "Doesn't make it any less true, does it?"

You shook your head.

"I mean it. I really do love you. I just wanted to make sure I did everything right this time." He sounded disappointed with himself, "I guess I'm always going to screw some things up."

"That's okay." You reassured, "I don't know if you noticed, but I ruined this whole thing. Your plan, my plan. All of it."

"I wouldn't say ruined." Eddie pulled back to look at you, "I'd just say this was a little out of the ordinary."

"Do you still want to go out for dinner? Is that still in the cards?" You asked curiously.

"Of course. Why don't we just take a breather for a little bit."

[haleigh-sloth]

Thoughts on Rei? I feel like I’m in the minority in that I don’t think she’s like morally on Enji level but I also don’t think it’s wrong to feel resentment towards a mother who didn’t protect her kids even if she was a victim too... like I want her to reconcile with Touya and all her kids (glad for her progress!) while I don’t so much for Enji (even if he will probably in the end) so I don’t mean to write her off but... sometimes I feel the fandom gives her a pass because her situation is so tragic and impossible to condemn, yet irl kids do resent the parents who are bystanders and I wish ppl would acknowledge that when saying she deserves no criticism?

Dude this is so weird. @redphlox and I were discussing EXACTLY THIS EARLIER TODAY WHEN WE WERE HANGING OUT WTF. WERE YOU THERE EAVESDROPPING. Lol. Anyway.

Ohhh god. I'm kind of terrified to comment how I really feel because some people get really upset over this but here goes nothin.

Please--if you disagree that is okay. I understand. Do not come to my inbox and be a bitch.

CW: Abuse, domestic violence under the cut

So before I can really comment on Rei I need to lay some things out.

Firstly--I've made it clear on here many times that I work in child welfare. I'm not talking out of my ass when I say the things I do. I find it really hard to converse about the Todofam a lot of the times because I look at it from such a different perspective that there's just a disconnect between what I think and what others think. Which is fine, it really is. Maybe this disclaimer will make sense after you read all of this to come lol.

Also: I am speaking from an American POV. I have said it before but I cannot comment on Japanese protocol for child abuse. But the psychology behind it all is all the same.

Secondly--a lot of people who give Rei a 100% pass do not understand how ugly and complicated family abuse and domestic violence is. I'm gonna have to talk about two different aspects here, because two different things were happening in the Todoroki household: domestic violence and child abuse.

In real life: When domestic violence occurs and children are involved---it does not matter who hit who or who started it or what the fuck ever. Both parents are responsible for the safety of their children. The victim of the domestic violence is held JUST AS RESPONSIBLE for their children's safety. They weren't the ones endangering their children per say, but they are responsible for getting their children out of that situation. By law, they are responsible. If a mother who is constantly abused by her husband fails to remove her children from that mentally and emotionally (potentially physically) damaging environment, BOTH parents are considered guilty for being neglectful of their children's wellbeing. For different reasons obviously, but's that's how it is looked at by law because those children NEED to be protected. They have to be. It does not matter who did what.

Now domestic violence does not always involve child abuse, but in the Todoroki household it did. Which makes it even MORE complicated and ugly. Rei, a mother in distress who is losing control over her life, is still responsible for her children's wellbeing. Touya and Shouto were both being abused by their father. Rei, as a mother, had a responsibility to her children. But could she stand up to Enji?

For Shouto: It's pretty clear that by the time Shouto was being beaten by Enji, she had no control over the situation. We saw her stand up to him once, and she probably tried other times as well. But it didn't save Shouto. We already know Shouto doesn't blame Rei at all, and he hardly views himself as an abuse victim and instead views his mom as the sole victim.

For Touya: This is the reeeaaalllllllyyyy complicated part. We know that when Touya was starting to spiral Rei had some semblance of control. Rei was in a better position to take control of the situation happening with Touya. The truth here is--Touya was abandoned by his dad at a much younger age than when he started really spiraling. Did Rei step in? We don't know. But judging by Touya's reaction to her attempt at helping him, and their disconnect as mother and son--I'd say she didn't step in when she could have early on.

"You're guilty too, Mom."

Here's the thing, Touya was smart. We know this. He caught on quick to what was going on. Rei's situation with her marriage to Enji aside--she is his mother. She is supposed to protect him. In ALL ways--physically, mentally, and emotionally. And she didn't. She did not protect him from the emotional harm that was being thrown onto him. By this point ^^^^ it was already too late. She didn't protect him and the emotional damage done by Enji was done.

Rei knew the reason she got married. She knew why Touya was born.

Touya has every right to resent Rei for not protecting him.

When you're a child and you're suffering on a daily basis because of one of your parents, and your other parent doesn't protect you? Yes--that is going to hurt. Touya is allowed to hold her responsible. She is his MOTHER.

HOWEVER---before some people lose their shit on me

Rei was in a very complicated position. From Touya's perspective--she did it to herself. That's not necessarily true--but that brings me back to the one FACT that rings true above all else. Rei is his mother and is responsible for protecting his wellbeing.

To put is as simply as I can: Rei is not 100% guilty by ANY MEANS, but she is not 100% innocent. Or rather--her feelings of guilt are justified, and absolutely normal. She did not go out of her way to hurt her children. She didn't . She is not guilty of abusing her children or neglecting them. Her failure lies in where she had room to step into a more protective role of her children--specifically for Touya. She tried with Shouto and we saw how that went. But with Touya the situation was different. It hadn't escalated to that point yet. As soon as the doctor told them to stop having kids--that is when she had the opportunity to step in and try to mend what was already so fucked up to begin with. Would it have worked? Maybe, maybe not. We'll never know. But her attempt that we saw with Touya didn't work because he had already spent years being emotionally abused by his father and watching his attempted replacements be born--one of them being a success. It was too late.

I guess my closing statement on Rei is:

As a mother, she didn't protect her children from mental and emotional harm. As victim of domestic violence, she didn't have any control over the situation. From one of her children's perspective (Touya), she didn't save him. From the other (Shouto), she tried and couldn't. All of those things can coexist. The fact of the matter is--domestic violence is ugly. But at the end of the day--BOTH PARENTS are responsible for their children's wellbeing.

It isn't just ugly and complicated in fiction. It's fucking BAD in real life too. Believe me they're the most complicated cases to resolve.

Needless to say: As a reader, I don't blame Rei at all. I still think the retcon of Enji is fucking bullshit. BUT, Rei feeling guilty as a parent is absolutely normal. It is. Even if she tried her best, for her to FEEL like she could have done more is a normal thing to feel.

[ahkaahshi]

appreciation [nanami kento x reader]

pairing: nanami kento x fem baker reader

genre: fluff

warning(s): swearing, brief violence, mentions of injuries and a curse

word count: 3.7k (yeah I went off a bit lol)

overview: you know how you feel about nanami and how nanami feels about your bakery, but on a rainy day, you finally learn how he feels about you

As you watch rain pour down outside, forming patterns along the windows of the shop and collecting in murky puddles disturbed by the rushed footsteps of people trying to find shelter from the storm, your eyelids threaten to close once more. The elbow propping your chin up on the counter wobbles slightly, the gentle rhythm of the store’s soft instrumental music melting together with the gentle patter of raindrops to form a lullaby that, combined with your exhaustion, sends you to sleep.

The sound of growling and a pair of familiar, red eyes appearing in the darkness, however, quickly wakes you up with a start, and your gaze darts around the shop. With an exasperated sigh and shake of the head, you stand up straight on shaky legs and task yourself with making a fresh cup of coffee to give you a bit of much-needed energy. As long as you stayed awake, you wouldn’t have to be haunted by this image an unsettling experience earlier this week had created.

While you prepare the caffeinated beverage, a glance up at the time finds the clock’s hands at a familiar hour—one that always marks the arrival of a regular customer. Once your drink starts dripping into the cup you’ve placed in the machine, you busy yourself instead with opening one of the display cases housing a vast array of different breads and baked goods.

The aroma that greets you fills you with warmth and brings a smile to your face, as does the thought of his impending arrival. Your hand knows the location on the shelves of his favorite loaf by heart, since you make it specially for him without a care in the world if anyone else wants to purchase it. Upon retrieving it from inside, you wrap it up carefully and set it down on the counter.

Contemplatively, you eye the other pastries waiting patiently behind the glass, wondering if it would be too obvious to get him something else to eat and some coffee as an invitation to stay a bit longer. Sometimes, he found half an hour in his busy day to seat himself at one of the booths along the wall and enjoy a treat you’d selected for him while he occupied himself talking to you if you weren’t busy or reading through one of his books if you were. But no matter how long he stayed, it never felt like long enough to you.

I hope the rain hasn’t driven him away today.

But you should know better than to think this way, since, through your conversations with him and his actions, you’ve learned he’s a man of routine. Regardless of what you should or shouldn’t be convincing yourself to believe, however, your attention snaps to the door when you hear the bells above it jingle. The sound of rain, cars honking, and passing conversations seep inside for a few moments as the man in question shakes water off his umbrella and places it securely into the holder by the entrance.

Against the bleak darkness of the cloudy sky outside, his sand-colored suit and blonde hair seem to glow in the warm lights hanging down from the ceiling, making him look almost ethereal—to the point where you wouldn’t have been surprised if white, feathery wings sprouted from his back. Maybe he was your guardian angel, since he’d just saved you from falling asleep on the job once again.

“Kento, welcome back!” you chirp, lips curling up into a grin you struggle to keep as professional-looking as possible.

Taking off his glasses and tucking them safely away in one of the pockets of his suit jacket, he turns to you and sends a hint of a smile your way that you know is rare given his serious demeanor. “Good evening, (f/n),” he greets you as he walks towards the counter, making your heart beat faster with every foot of distance closed between the two of you.

You ask, once he’s approached the counter and glanced at the loaf you’ve wrapped up for him, “So, can I convince you to dine in and take a little break with one of our fresh pastries, hmm?”

A hint of a chuckle sounds from him through a short breath out his nose, and he reaches into a pocket in his trousers to retrieve his wallet. “I don’t need much convincing on a day like this, but I’ll take a pastry as well, please. And a coffee, if you don’t mind.”

“You came in right as I was brewing my own, so you can just have it, instead, since I know we take ours the same way,” you mention, turning away from him to grab the steaming drink.

“Nonsense,” he utters, stopping you in your tracks, “If you made it for yourself, keep it for yourself. I can wait a few extra minutes for mine.”

Prickles of heat rise to your cheeks, but you nod and give him a small, appreciative smile. Once you’ve selected a treat of his choice for his visit, you enter the total cost into the register, which he prepares promptly and hands to you. His fingers brushing against yours sends tingles across your skin like stray sparks of electricity. “I’ll bring your coffee over once it’s ready,” you offer, speaking to distract yourself from your racing thoughts, “Go ahead and get comfortable; you’ve got the whole shop to yourself.”

He thanks you with a small dip of the head and picks up his food so he can head over to the same booth he selects each time he visits while you start making a fresh cup of coffee for him. As you take a sip of your own, you can’t help but pause a moment to admire his appearance now that his attention is focused elsewhere. He’s a striking man with sharp features and a straightforward, authoritative manner of speaking, but there’s a certain softness to his edges that you’ve seen within him over the time you’ve been acquainted.

You wonder if that tenderness to him is reserved for just for you. If you’re the only one who brings about the softness you can see behind his warm, brown gaze. If he would put his book down as quickly if someone else approached him. You like to think yourself the only witness to his subtle, gentle mannerisms, but you prevent yourself from getting too caught up in your thoughts by reminding yourself that he’s a customer. Someone who comes solely because your bakery’s the closest one that makes his favorite bread, rather than because he has any sort of attachment to you.

With a small sigh, you bring your cup of coffee to your lips for a long drink before taking the one you’d made for Nanami in your other hand and wandering over to his table. Judging by how the crowds outside are moving, everyone seems to be more concerned with getting home and out of the terrible weather than with picking up treats from your bakery. If you hadn’t had such a busy day, you’d be concerned by the lack of customers in at this hour. Now, however, as your aching feet move over to the empty seat across from the shop’s sole patron, you appreciate the quietude in the store that allows you peace in its final hour before closing.

Nanami slides a page marker towards the spine of the journal he’s writing in and closes it when you arrive with his freshly brewed drink, setting it down in front of him. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Mind if I sit?” you ask, even though your knees are already bending to guide you onto the padded seat across from him.

“As long as I won’t distract you from your work, please, go ahead,” he answers, then takes a long, appreciative sip of his coffee.

“I don’t think anyone here would be opposed to me taking a break, considering it’s just us,” is your response given with a smile. You’ve forgotten quite how long it’s been since you’ve had a moment off your feet, and you let out a long sigh as you sink into the booth. Weariness makes itself known in a yawn that suddenly escapes your mouth—a sign that all the fatigue you’ve been somehow avoiding is starting to catch up to you. “Excuse me.”

Blonde eyebrows furrowing slightly with concern, he wonders, “Long day?”

Shrugging, you gaze into the dark liquid filling the cup in your hands, watching it quiver with each minute movement of your body. “It’s been a bit of a long week, to be completely honest,” you sigh. A pair of red eyes appears in your coffee as your mind wanders momentarily. Taking a deep breath and curling your lips into a forced grin, you quickly gather yourself and add, “But, anyway, it’s alright. I’m sure you’re much more exhausted than I am given what you have to do on a daily basis.”

“The nature of our jobs may be different, but I’m sure you’ve been just as busy as I have.”

You chuckle softly at his words and add, “You fight curses and I make baked goods. I’m sure one’s a bit more taxing than the other. Or, at least, more life-threatening.”

“Both deserve appreciation,” he states in his usual, matter of fact tone that never fails to amuse you. Though he’s completely serious, you always find a bit of humor in his straightforward manner of speaking, especially when he argues the essential nature of your job. “I know that you make this specifically for me just to make my life that much easier—” he taps the wrapped loaf of bread with one of his long fingers—“so, I appreciate your work and what you do.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, making you lower your head bashfully while you take a long drink of coffee. It’s a surprise your voice doesn’t falter when you comment, “You’re too kind to me.”

“There’s no such thing in your case. I’m simply being honest.” There’s a short silence that ensues his compliment, during which you try to slow your racing heart by glancing out the window at the other shops, cars, and people all distorted by watery veins across the glass. Nanami’s gaze doesn’t leave yours, however, and he inquires, “Are you taking care of yourself?”

Somewhat dozily, you echo, “Taking care of myself?” as your eyes flutter shut so you can think for a moment. Almost immediately, they fly open once more at the sight of those red orbs piercing the darkness once more. “I just… haven’t been getting enough sleep, I don’t think.”

“Is something bothering you?”

The expression of concern on his face could easily be mistaken for frustration or disgust, given the way his lips are pursed, and brows angled downwards. But you know from experience that those emotions are reserved for conversations about his work, rather than those regarding you, and his level of interest warms your heart. “I… I saw something earlier this week, and… it was a bit unsettling, is all.”

You can’t help but notice how his full attention is on you when your eyes meet again. Neither his pastry nor his steaming cup of coffee is on his mind, since neither one is in his hands. Instead, his gaze searches yours for the answer that you’re not speaking. Before he can attempt to coax it out of you with another question, you quickly realize that the conversation has veered off in a direction you deem selfish given your desire to allow your most devoted customer a peaceful refuge from the world under the roof of your shop.

“Please, I really don’t want to worry you,” you speak quickly, your hands moving energetically for extra emphasis. Unfortunately, your fingers nudge the cup in front of you just hard enough to topple it over rather dramatically, and its contents flow across the table in a dark wave that has you uttering a curse word under your breath and reaching for the napkin dispenser. Your fingertips are met with plastic, bringing you to realization you’d forgotten to refill it after the morning rush. “I’m so sorry. I’m really out of it today, it seems. Give me a second while I run to the back, okay?”

Before he can respond, you’re up and making a beeline for the kitchen and storage room, cursing yourself on the way there for being so clumsy. A rush of unusually cold air along with the sound of rain pounding the ground greets you when you set foot in the kitchen, and your gaze moves across the room to where the back door is mysteriously ajar. You shudder, but not just because of the chill.

I just got the lock on that damn door fixed…

Your heart pounds against your ribcage, and your feet feel as if they’ve been replaced by sacks of bricks when you try to lift them. It’s as if every fiber in your body is resisting any and all movement toward the door even though you know you can’t leave it open. The horrible sense of dread welling up inside of you almost makes you want to call for Nanami but telling yourself you’re just being dramatic allows you to walk to the other end of the room, but it feels like miles separate you and the far wall.

With a deep breath, you shut the door once more, returning the air within the kitchen to its original stillness, but the weight of the silence that follows feels crushing. And that’s when you hear it. The low, distorted rumbling that you’d heard nearly every night this week from outside your bedroom window. You almost don’t want to look, but when you finally muster enough courage to follow the direction of the ominous sound, you’re met with that same, red gaze that had burned through the gap between your shutters at night.

A few feet away, in a corner that seems much darker than usual, a disfigured but humanoid hand splays across the tiled flooring as the curse who’d been making house calls pulls itself out of the shadowy depths it’s created. Your breath hitches in your throat as fear takes hold, its cold grip freezing your body in place so all you can do is watch as the creature rises up from the floor and stares at you hungrily from where it stands on all fours.

Before you can even understand what’s happening, it lunges at you with a shriek. Thankfully, one of the loudest screams you can muster leaves your mouth, and your survival instincts break you free of the paralysis your emotions had trapped you in. You’re barely able to evade the curse’s grip as you run around the corner of a counter and grab the closest thing to you in the moment, which happens to be a broom. Furiously, and without thinking, you whack the creature as hard as you can while you try to run back towards the shop.

“Kento!” you shout, words accompanied by a loud hiss as you slip, falling against the cold tiles with a thud. The arm you use to brace yourself courses with pain, but that doesn’t stop you from using your free arm to continue throttling the curse with your barely effective weapon of choice.

Just as you see a shadowy hand reach out towards you to grab you, your vision is suddenly obscured by the familiar, sandy brown of Nanami’s suit. In an instant, he’s swinging his cleaver in front of him with his cursed technique that downs the beast in one fell swoop. Once the threat has been eliminated, your knight in business attire places his weapon in its holster on his back and bends down to check on you.

Any questions he asks you are lost in a hum of shock that rings in your ears for a moment, and you find yourself unable to do anything but stare at where your otherworldly assailant had been looming over you mere seconds ago. However, a sudden moment of clarity brings you back to reality, and you finally meet Nanami’s gaze, feel his hands on your arms, and hear his voice.

“It was waiting for me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The curse,” you clarify before repeating, “Bastard was waiting for me.”

As he helps you up to your feet and gets you settled back down at the booth you’d previously occupied—and that he’d cleaned, you notice—you explain to him the story of the unsettling visitor whose loitering had robbed you of your sleep the entire week. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you could see curses?” he wonders, taking off his suit jacket and draping it around your shoulders when he notices you shivering. Whether you’re doing so out of shock or your body’s need to maintain its natural temperature, you’re unsure, but the warmth of the garment he sheds soon puts an end to it.

“I don’t know,” you answer slowly, eyes steadily making their way up to his face where it hovers above your arm so he can carefully place a bag of ice he’d wrapped in a towel on the steadily swelling lump adorning your forearm. “I think it’s because I wish I couldn’t see them and saying that I can would really make me think about all the horrible things I’ve seen.”

“Do you have any other injuries?” His touch is gentle in an unexpected way, given the level of his strength and the ease with which he’d disposed of your attacker, and you can’t help but watch his fingers rearrange the bag of ice to cover your injury after you shake your head in response. “Give me a moment,” he states, retrieving his phone from his pocket, “I’m calling a coworker to take us back to Jujutsu High’s campus so you can have a proper examination.”

“I’m okay! I promise!” you splutter quickly, but the pain in your side that suddenly makes itself known when you try to stand causes you to grimace and further solidifies his suspicions. “I don’t want you to work more than you have to.”

He ignores you and delivers a very to the point message to his colleague with information about your whereabouts anyway. After he hangs up, a feeling of appreciation spurs you to open the palm of your opposite hand as you extend it towards him and rest it on the table. He returns your gesture by placing his unoccupied hand in yours so your fingers can wrap around it tenderly. But even once you’ve given it a gentle squeeze, he doesn’t make any attempts to retreat from your grip.

Quietly, you ask, as your heart flutters in your chest, “Why are you doing this for me?”

With a gentle sigh, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of amusement meet yours. “Do you remember the first day we met?” You nod and a small smile forms across your lips at the pleasant memory coming back to you, pushing away all the worries and doubts that had been previously swirling around your head.

“I came in here, asking if you sold my favorite type of bread. You told me you didn’t—much to my dismay. However, you looked at me for a long moment and I don’t know what it was you saw in me, but whatever it was spurred you to say, come back again tomorrow, and I’ll have some made for you.”

The short pause he takes while his gaze shifts to the bread you’d given him earlier is filled with the soft music playing throughout the shop. “I’ve thought about how you could’ve just said no and been done with me. We didn’t have any obligations to one another. We were just strangers. Yet, you chose to go out of your way for me.”

“You were exhausted.”

He watches you expectantly, so you explain, “That’s what I saw in you. That you were just so, so tired, Kento; and I wanted to do anything I could to give you some peace of mind. That’s why I make it, just for you.” A giddy grin spreads across your lips at being reminded of how your coworkers had always asked if you were making the special loaf whenever you’d been working on your own in the kitchen after your first meeting with Nanami.

“Plus,” you continue, “you’re a jujutsu sorcerer. You’re constantly putting your own life on the line for the rest of us, so you should be able to enjoy a simple pleasure like being able to eat your favorite bread.”

When he smiles, the pain throbbing deep beneath your skin subsides for just a second. It’s such a rarity to see that tough and somewhat aloof demeanor of his break and give way to what you’re witnessing now that you wish you could stop time and hold onto this moment forever. But what he says next makes you glad that it continues without a care in the world about what you desire.

“You asked why I’m doing this for you. From the first day I met you, you’ve made it clear that you care about me. Please, let me show you that the feeling is mutual.”

Maybe it’s a combination of the week you’ve had or the fact that you’d just narrowly avoided death thanks to the man sitting in front of you, but his words nearly bring tears to your eyes; and your heart swells with affection at every effort he makes to do right by his promise. He helps you gather your belongings, even going so far as to sling your bag over his shoulder, places an arm around you to support you and keep you under the cover of his umbrella while the two of you walk out to his colleague’s car, and allows you access to his hand to hold during the car ride to campus.

“Kento.” His attention shifts over to you from where it had been directed towards the window, watching the city pass by outside. Placing your other palm atop the back of his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, you say, “Thank you so much. I really appreciate you.”

“As I do you.”

fun fact that didn’t make it in the fic: nanami didn’t say it, but he thinks you’re ruthless for going after a curse with a broom. and maybe a bit insane. but he’s certainly not put off by it.

[notsoangeel]

Memoir

“VICTORY IN DISGUISE”

by Angel Joy D. Aldava

Trigger Warning: Self-harm

Years ago, I want to go win but right now, I just want to be me, without a mask on, and live my best life. If I could go back in time, I’m going to settle to average. Maybe if I had done that in the past, I wouldn't have such high expectations, wouldn't be so hard on myself right now, and wouldn't have broken myself apart over my ambition. I had no idea that my desire to be "successful" and "prove something to others" would crush me into fragments like a shattered glass that could never be repaired and the crack could no longer mend.

 Taking my study seriously and starting to be active in school in seventh grade, brings me happiness and confidence. The sweet smile plastered on my parent’s faces and their glistening eyes while looking at me was so satisfying and brings me real happiness. 

That good feeling of making my parents happy and proud while enjoying my high school life with all the school work and activities together with my classmates and friends was everything. Contentment lingering in my body, no pressure, no high expectations, and just pure happiness and love for myself, as I create my own tower that can shine and stand out among the crowd.

Realizing that you’re not happy with what you’re doing as the years pass is the worst feeling that you will feel. My own family putting too many expectations and pressure on me that I can’t take was suffocating. I'm too frail to take a bunch of criticism from them every time I don't live up to their expectations and that makes me feel worse.

If only I can talk to them and tell them to stop because they’re hurting me, I would have done it a long time ago, but sadly, I can’t because I’m too coward and weak to speak up and stand on my own feet. The tower I made is magnificent from the outside, but it is in shambles deep within and might collapse at any moment. They believe I'm still happy and enjoying my life as a "good daughter," but little did they know, I'm breaking down on the inside and frightened of making a mistake for fear of being judged.

Time goes by, I realized that I become my own worst enemy and it was getting worse day by day. They stopped putting a lot of pressure on me but I began to put a lot of pressure on myself. Funny to think that I despised my family's expectations and wished that they would stop demanding so much from me which they did one day but I began to set a goal for myself, which quickly escalated into chaos in my head. Their expectations of me have decreased, and I have a very small probability of failing them, so I'm extremely pleased, but I found myself in a battle with my own. I don't appreciate small things that used to make me happy and started doubting myself that doesn’t feel good at all.

Fear and resentment towards myself clouded my mind. How did I become into this? Why did I turn into a monster in my own eyes? Why did I allow myself to be ruined? Those are the questions that are running through my head on a daily basis. This pushed me into the abyss, and I began to do things that could destroy me.

For almost two years, cutting my wrist has been my coping mechanism, and every cut felt amazing. For a year, I will cut my wrist whenever that I’m hurt because I wanted to feel alive but one day, I almost hanged myself the day that one of my aunt insults me in front of my cousins. It’s not good for me but I can feel happiness through this. This serves to remind me that not everything that makes you feel good and happy is appropriate because being deceived by our own feelings can be misleading.

My friends were being furious by what I'm doing, and when one of them saw it, she snatched me and smacked my wounded wrists. At the time, I thought that maybe someone could help me and that I could solely rely on others, particularly my friends, but whenever that they are handing me advice, it always becomes useless, because I was so preoccupied with figuring out how to escape my agony, my mind was blocked to absorb and digest all of their words.

One thing snapped me awake: one of them stated, "Walang ibang makatutulong sa'yo kundi ang sarili mo lang." I had no clue I was intensifying my situation. I want to get up, but I refuse to treat myself and instead choose to rely on someone else, burying myself even deeper.

It’s tiring to live and fill in your desires to yourself because sometimes, it could be the reason for you to sink and drown in the ocean of expectations and never be able to get up again, buried beneath the waves with pain and dissatisfaction in your heart. Learn how to handle yourself since no one knows what you're capable of if you lose control. It's fine to dream and has ambitious goals. It's fantastic to have a one-of-a-kind tower, simply ensure that your tower has a solid foundation that will allow it to survive any storm or hurricane that may arise because that's where your journey begins.

[alovevigilante]

Life is really amazing if you stop to think about it. We have a myriad of energies and experiences to choose from. I’ve spent most of my life, in one to three energies at best: Meh, eh, and feh with variations of intensity. Now, I want to choose more, and better.

Love enables all kinds of experiences: people, who are all innately love, don’t always choose the love experience in their lives due to the 3D reality they perceive, making it their reality in most cases.

This is subject to a case by case basis. But most of us, even in the most dire of circumstances, can escape them with our thoughts. History has shown that time and time again with the heroes that have changed the course of the collective social consciousness’s momentum.

For example, mlk jr., Harriet Tubman, and others. They were so resolute in their thoughts and loving beliefs that their experience changed the course of history for the better just by their mere focus and fearless dedication to it. I want to be just like them. But I do it the way I know how, and can. And I contribute my love and sensibility through laughter, and writing my truth. That is my love, so that’s how I share it. We all have different ways of sharing our love. I admire the people who do share it from that place within themselves. And spread it all around to affect the planet. You can feel it, even if you’re not directly involved in real time. I still feel MLK jr. and Harriet Tubman’s love. Love is a never ending energy that we can tap into anytime we’d like. Just by the thinking about it, we can experience it. So I’m deciding right now, and right now and right now, to experience love.

I have to disagree with Julius Robert Mayer’s first law of thermodynamics, also known as Law of Conservation of Energy, that states that “energy can neither be created nor destroyed; energy can only be transferred or changed from one form to another.” *(1) I believe that we can and do create energy in a 5D sense, with our thoughts. (5th dimension being our thoughts within our mind that create the perceived world we see.) in the 5th dimensional realm we create thoughts and scenarios constantly that formulate feelings that turn into energy that can be measured (in waves), thereby making it its own legitimate dimension. When we act upon said thoughts that have been created by our minds, we are sharing that very created energy for a mutually shared experience. But not everyone experiences in the same way due to their individual filters and past experiences. So individual results will vary.

We can also dispel or eradicate energy, with our focus on the specific energy we choose to experience. Energy can be dispelled within our own perceptions in the 5D, and eradicated once it’s realized in the 3D. You can refocus on a better, more positive thought within your mood reach. Like right now, for example. One could be reading this, and calling me a lunatic for my theories. But in my chosen energy, mostly positive, I have decided to eliminate any negative backlash and pushback to one’s thoughts about my beliefs, therefore having it not affect my behavior in the slightest, unless I choose to allow it. It can happen if I’m not completely conscious of my thoughts.

But I do believe Julius Robert Mayer is correct when he states his law in a 3D sense (3D meaning the 3 dimensional world of form we have mutually created and share in the physical realm), that energy can neither be created or destroyed, because it has to go somewhere. So when someone creates the energy in their 5D thoughts, and gives it to another with their 3D actions (words or physical actions), and it’s not accepted by another, it has to remain with the creator until they can get rid of it themselves with their personal focus on a more positive thought, or pass the energy they created, either positive or negative, to someone else. That’s why it’s important to create only good energy with your thoughts, so that if another person doesn’t accept the energy you are offering, regardless of the emotional charge, you aren’t left with a negative feeling.

The fifth dimensional theory is palpable to all thinking humans, because the whole of us shares that very same thinking capability, therefore that dimension must exist and be shared. If we are capable of communicating thoughts, the thoughts must come from somewhere, and we all think in a similar biological fashion (in a literal sense, not figurative) therefore we are all experiencing that dimensional plane in the same way; perceiving life through our individual filters, and with our focus to specific things, and acting accordingly. We do not necessarily share the same thoughts, but we do share the same process of biologically creating the thoughts. The process of thought itself, is its own energetic entity, therefore contains an energy source, which is created by us. Thoughts formulate the potential energy to create the things into 3 dimensional form which is the kinetic energy, in action. That is how things are realized into the 3D. It goes from consciousness, measured in waves, to us being the catalysts for creation. But first the thoughts need to be created within consciousness to bring the concepts into being. I read a wonderful bbc article about consciousness and quantum physics. Feel free to check it out. It touches base on the study and the proposed link of the two: http://www.bbc.com/earth/story/20170215-the-strange-link-between-the-human-mind-and-quantum-physics

I only mention this because if we can create thoughts that create the life and interactions that we perceive, we have the ability to do better with our creations. The 5th dimension is shared, so it’s a common bond of humanity as a whole. There is no I, there is only we. We are all connected, and our thoughts affect and effect the whole, and do indeed matter to the betterment of all people. Cleaning up our thoughts, is what will change everyone and everything. It will effect how we interact with the world, and how we feel about ourselves and one another. Love does that. It’s the most powerful energy there is. Nothing can compare, or override it if coming from a genuine thought.

So, all that said, I want to focus solely on people who choose to experience love, and what they create: ie. music, dance, art, design, writing, sports, theater, movies, and building stuff, and all kinds of things that people who are inspired by love, do. It feels better.

And there’s more! There’s love in other ways too. For example, in service to humanity by helping, investing time, money and effort in kids, the elderly, animals, and in the environment we all share, even if it’s halfway around the world. It’s also investing in those in need, and those who have things to share too. Love affects, and effects all of us, and the lack of it does as well. Investment, if done properly, makes for a completely fulfilling life.

So, from now on I’m going to deliberately try to choose loving energies. Here are a few I’m trying out: kindness, caring, laughter, social involvement, and celebration of people. Cause I want to feel good, so that I can share it with others, and they can feel good too. It’s a way of life I hope catches on, and everyone becomes addicted to.

Everyone has their own definition of love. Choose yours, and test it out. Life is about experimentation. You are your own constant, even though as you evolve, your variables may change. And not everyone shares the same definition of love that you do. So seek and find your like-minded energies through the love that you are attracted to. See how it suits you. You can always switch it up.

People may judge you as crazy, or a joke. That is an indication that those people do not share your definition of love, or are not willing to share the same energy that you are choosing. That’s ok too. Depending on what you want to experience, you have a choice whether to accept their rejection, or move forward toward where there is love for you.

(Please note: this is not a personal rejection of you, because all people are love, so there’s nothing to reject. It is only a rejection of their perceived energy, and that only they can control, so it’s different.) So you do not have to take it personally if they don’t treat you with the respect you deserve, although it may feel badly at first. Sometimes people aren’t in a place to recognize or accept love. And that’s ok as well. You will learn eventually, that the love is where it feels good. So move toward that, and allow them to experience the energy that they have created, without issue.

It is essentially their choice, to accept or reject themselves, by entertaining the loveless energy that they themselves have created. Also important to note, that loveless energy is both perceived and felt, so it’s good if you care about the relationships you foster to continue frequent communication and definition without defensiveness. Intention, is important to people as well. All of these things, are best done in person, because the added element of technology creates a barrier to humanity that makes it difficult in deciphering true intention. So put down the phones and computers, and talk. You can tell by looking in one another’s eyes. Cause the eyes don’t lie.

This post isn’t meant to incite anger or hostility. And however you choose to define yourself, love and your life is your personal choice. You will get no argument from me in that regard anymore. I have learned my lesson trying to argue my theory of love with a person that didn’t agree with my stance. And arguing, isn’t love, or a loving energy, therefore making it a mute point on both ends. I didn’t like how that experience left me feeling, so I won’t do it again... I’m just pointing out an alternate way to happiness if you’d like to try it out. That’s it. No judgement of your personal life choices or definitions unless they are affecting people directly, which they do. They affect you.

I believe that life should be easy, and fun. Define it your way, and design it to your liking! Here’s to the love. ❤️😎💪

*(1.) My affiliation is being an observing and active member (simultaneously) of the human race for 46 plus years. My accreditation is the fact that I’m a thinking human being with thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. I’m a work in progress, still in the graduate school of life. I use myself as an energy experiment, majoring in my personal love to suit the whole of us, with a minor in ways to achieve our collective happiness, and I usually document my experiences according to my filter. I use my energetic experiences to support my theories. (No snark intended.)

I just found this great article on this very subject: https://www.authenticityassociates.com/the-quantum-mechanics-of-changing-thoughts/

[discoursecatharsis]

I’ve gotten more than one anon ask from a teenager, paranoid that they’re a pedophile or a predator for crushing on a peer 2-3 years younger than them. Because anti-shippers/fandom purity police constantly use the term “pedophile” for ships between teens 2-3 years apart, it’s no wonder why real teens are confused and terrified. So I wanted to make a post with proper definitions of these terminologies and link to some sources, so that maybe it’ll reassure some other poor teen out there that it’s perfectly fine for them to crush on their schoolmate.

First I’m going to get this out of the way: I’m talking about crushing and dating and having a romantic relationship. Sex between a legal adult (18 and up) and a legal minor (17 and down) could be illegal depending on the age of consent where you live, and any Romeo and Juliet laws that may or may not be in place. That’s way more complicated, so I won’t be touching on teenage relationships where sex is involved. While I’m on this subject though, a quick PSA: if you’re under 18, do not take/send nudes at all. You could be charged with child pornography for “self-producing” your own nudes. As dumb as that sounds, it happens. I don’t agree with courts that do it, punishing hormonal teenagers for having hormones is dumb, but it still happens. It’s not worth it, don’t do it.

One more thing: I’m talking about relationships between peers in the same age group. Between two young adults, adolescents, or teenagers. Note that there is some overlap between these groups (i.e. 15 year old is a teenager and an adolescent but not an adult, while an 18 year old is all three, while a 20 year old is only a young adult). I’m not justifying age gaps that are obviously wrong and illegal, like a 30 year old and a 14 year old, so please do not put words in my mouth.

Moving on to the topic at hand...

---

If the only “concerning” thing about a relationship is a minimal age gap between two peers in the same age group, the relationship is probably okay.

The existence of an age gap alone does not make someone a pedophile or predator or child groomer. Intent needs to involved. Ill intent. Along with other abusive, predatory, manipulative behaviors.

---

Let’s break down some of these terms further:

A pedophile is attracted to prepubescent children. If the younger party in the relationship is not prepubescent, the older person is not a pedophile.

Here is the criteria for being a pedophile, as defined by the American Psychiatric Association.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/conditions/pedophilia

If there is less than a 5 year age gap between teens (i.e. a 15 year old and a 19 year old), there is probably not an issue.

If however, for example, an 18 year old is attracted to someone who’s 13 and still prepubescent, there may be an issue there and the older teen should seek help or talk to someone about it. This doesn’t mean they’re a bad person. If they haven’t hurt anyone, they’ve done nothing wrong. It may just be a disorder that they have no control over, so that’s why it’s a good idea to seek help for it.

---

Moving away from “pedophilia” now. What about people who prey on (i.e. are intentionally seeking to harm) teens who are post-pubescent? That person is not a pedophile, but they are a predator or a child groomer.

Which leads to the next point, what are some examples of “ill intent” when it comes to predatory relationships? What exactly is a predator or a child groomer?

This site lists the definition of grooming, along with some red flag behaviors.

https://www.d2l.org/child-grooming-signs-behavior-awareness/

First I want to point out the word “deliberate.” You can’t accidentally groom someone, like I’ve seen multiple fandom police claim. Posting properly tagged and flagged nsfw fanart on a public forum like tumblr or twitter that allows nsfw content is NOT grooming. Grooming is a deliberate act. It involves intent. If an adult is sending private DMs of nsfw sexual fanart to a minor that they KNOW to be a minor, that is completely inappropriate and grooming behavior. Same goes for any nsfw sexual talk, like an adult having a nsfw rp chat with a minor, that’s wrong too. But simply posting/liking/sharing nsfw fandom content on a public website is not grooming.

That link has a longer list of red flag behaviors, along with examples, but here are three I want to especially point out.

A lot of these sites seem to write their info with the focus on young children being groomed, going by the language they use (”child’s natural curiosity”). But teenagers can definitely be groomed also, in the same ways. If an older partner is taking advantage of a vulnerable teen due to an abusive home life, or trying to isolate them from their family and friends, or overstepping any emotional/physical/sexual boundaries, that teen is very likely in a dangerous situation and needs to confide in a trusted friend, and eventually in a trusted adult, about it.

---

I also wanted to share this source as well, just as a general example of other signs of abuse in a relationship. The National Domestic Violence Hotline has a chart that lists common behavior patterns of an abusive, manipulative partner.

https://www.thehotline.org/is-this-abuse/abuse-defined/

This chart uses the example of a male abuser and a female victim, but they have another page and chart for lgbt+ relationships.

As their site says, this can apply to anyone. Age, gender, sexual orientation, it doesn’t matter, anyone is capable of being an abuser or being a victim. Notice how this has similar tactics as the child predator/groomer red flag list too, such as isolation.

Also notice the different manipulative behaviors in this chart. This chart is just a good rule of thumb for red flags in any kind of relationship, be it sexual, romantic, platonic or familial.

Here is another source that lists more red flag behaviors, but more specifically for teenage relationships.

https://www.teendvmonth.org/resources/signs-teen-dating-violence/

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With that in mind, here are some hypothetical scenarios. Let’s use a specific example of a 18 year old high school senior (12th grade) dating a 15 year old high school sophomore (10th grade).

This relationship could be bad if the senior is using the sophomore for their own personal gain. Taking advantage of the fact that the younger person is inexperienced when it comes to dating, and using that fact to manipulate them into a relationship. Maybe the senior isolates the sophomore from their family and friends, makes them feel guilty for wanting to hang out with friends, makes them quit their after-school sports activities or forces them to cancel plans with friends so that they can spend more time together. Maybe the older teen controls how they dress or what they do, or makes them do things that they’re uncomfortable with. All of those are signs of an abusive relationship. If the older teen doesn’t care about the younger teen or about their feelings and is just using them, obviously that is an unhealthy, abusive relationship. (*It’s important to note though, that this exact thing can happen between two people of the same age too. A partner who’s the same age as you can also be controlling and abusive. It can happen with friendships too, it doesn’t have to be limited to dating relationships.)

On the other hand, this senior/sophomore relationship very well could be a perfectly healthy one too. Maybe they are in the same after-school club and bonded through that. Maybe they’ve already known each other and have been friends for years, maybe their families are friends, etc. And they’ve recently started crushing on each other and decided to date. As long as they respect each other, it’s fine.

That’s why you need to know what is going on in a relationship before you judge. An age gap by itself is not proof enough that a relationship is bad or abusive or predatory. One of the partners needs to have ill-intent, and exhibit these abusive red flag behaviors.

---

So to sum up everything, if the ONLY thing in a relationship is that there is an age gap, but both people are otherwise peers and in the same age group/range, and none of the above red flags are present, your relationship is fine and you have nothing to worry about. You know you’re a good person, your partner is a good person, you have family and friends supporting the both of you, you care about and respect each other, then you’re fine.

You’re not a pedophile or a predator or any awful thing like that. Remember, those are deliberate acts and involve ill-intent. Please don’t let fandom police scare you. They’re internet strangers, they know NOTHING about you or your personal life or your relationships or your home life or your upbringing or your family and friends. They’re judging you based solely on the fact that there’s an age gap, and nothing else. They have nothing to go by. They’re not trying to educate others on healthy or unhealthy relationship dynamics. They’re just instilling fear in people to back up their own moral superiority or ship war or whatever tf is driving them to be like That and spread misinformation and make inaccurate generalizations. And they don’t seem to realize or care how dangerous it is that they’re telling teens that they’re predators when they’re not. They don’t care about victims. If they did, they’d be spreading helpful advice, but instead they’re just spreading fear and misinformation. Please stop listening to them. And please for all that is good, don’t take advice from them. Talk to adults in your personal life, if not a parent, then an older cousin or an aunt or uncle or teacher or counselor. Or Google it and find reputable sources for yourself. That is much more reliable than taking advice from people who throw around the word “pedophile” to describe a ship between two teenage anime characters. People need to use common sense and look at relationships on a case-by-case basis. And anti-shippers/fandom purity police are unable to do that.

To fandom police: stop telling teenagers that they’re a predator or pedophile for dating their schoolmate who’s two years younger than them. It’s none of your business, and don’t give me that “but if they’re hurting themselves or others, I need to say something” BS. You’re a stranger, you do not know their personal lives. You know nothing about what is going on except that an age gap is involved, that’s it, and that is not enough to jump to such a drastic conclusion and serious accusation. It’s not your place because you don’t know their life or their situation. Also frankly, it’s damn weird and highly inappropriate for you to be inserting yourselves into the personal lives of some random teenager on the internet that you don’t know (especially if you’re an adult). You think shippers are gross for “being invested in the love lives of fictional teens,” yet here you are trying to control the love lives of real life teens. Please get some perspective.

Edit: Another point I forgot to mention, so I’m tacking this onto the end.

Stop acting like all teens x-years-old are the exactly same as every other teen who is also x-years-old. “I’m 18 and I would NEVER date a 15 year old because they’re practically a baby and I’m such a mature adult already and-” Good for you, you want a cookie? Repeat after me: not everyone is the same as you. One 18 year old might be socially awkward but nice and with no dating experience at all, and would fair well with dating a 15 year old who also is in their first relationship. Another 18 year old might be really responsible for their age due to circumstances in their family life, and are fully capable of handling themselves and dating a 21 year old college classmate. Everyone is different. Two people of different ages may just “click” with each other, they’re on the same wavelength, or they have similar experiences, etc. Just because you personally wouldn’t date someone 2-3 years younger/older than yourself doesn’t mean 1) that it’s wrong, or 2) that others wouldn’t be okay with it for their own personal (and valid) reasons.

Again: it is not your business to interfere with an internet stranger’s personal life and relationships when the only thing you have to go off of is “there’s an age gap.” I’m begging y’all, please look at this with the nuance that it deserves. It is not black-and-white, and your black-and-white thinking is really messing up teenagers and making them feel bad about completely normal and healthy age-appropriate crushes or desires to date someone else.

[dudeandduchess]

Peach(es) and Cream [Tomioka Giyuu x F!Reader] Chapter 2

Rating: E! NSFW Characters: Tomioka Giyuu x F!Reader Chapters: 5/5 Summary: Wherein Giyuu is betrothed to a noble woman, and visits her with a present. Tags: Smut, Fluff, Short Series, Fingering, Creampie, Established Relationship, Arranged Marriage

Note: Hello, everyone! This chapter is slightly SFW; meaning there’s no heavy smut. Just some kissing action going on. Enjoy!

Giyuu’s eyes widened in surprise, as his face heated up with a blush. He scrambled up and away from (Y/n), which made him hiss as his sensitive length came springing back against his abdomen. “W-what?”

With a roll of her eyes, the (L/n) heiress propped herself up, before adjusting her kimono to cover her modesty. Frankly speaking, she expected her lover’s reaction to be a thousand times worse than a stuttered question; she was fully prepared for an affronted look on his face, and so much thinly veiled insults to come her way… but that wasn’t it. 

It didn’t mean that she wasn’t happy about the turn of events; far from it, really. (Y/n) was relieved, though a bit perturbed because her brother still kept hurling threats at Giyuu. From outside her bedroom, Toshiro had escalated to drawing his sword— judging by the gasps of terror from all the maids.

“Nothing. Never mind what I said, Tomioka.” His surname slipped from her lips with practiced ease— devoid of any honorifics, but still filled with respect. Had she called him by just his name with other people, everyone would have something to say about her blatant disrespect. 

She was so tired of people putting their noses in everyone else’s business, so she tried to be the epitome of a well-bred heiress. The less mistakes she made, the less people would talk about her behind her back.

Dark blue eyes pinned (Y/n) under their scrutiny, but she merely ignored it. After years of being engaged to the man, she was already used to his intense gaze. And she was also used to the nonchalant way that he tucked himself back into his pants; as if his world wasn’t just rocked on its axis. “Are you staying the night? Should I ask Yuriko to prepare a room for you?” 

He didn’t have any missions at the moment, so it was practically a no-brainer for him: he wanted to stay with (Y/n), so he would. They had so much lost time to make up for, anyway. “I’d like to stay here… in your room. With you.”

‘That answer was certainly different,’ (Y/n) thought to herself, while she tried to calm her suddenly racing heart. She looked unruffled about the sudden turn of events, but deep down she feared as though her brain had already melted with the sheer effort she put into trying to formulate a coherent sentence. “I… alright.”

“Toshiro-sama, please! My mistress is tending to her betrothed.” Yuriko’s voice rang out over the din of frantic voices, which made (Y/n) smile. She knew that she could always count on Yuriko, despite the younger woman’s childish antics to get her and Giyuu even closer. “Tomioka-sama is heavily injured and he needs to rest. I’m politely asking you to step back for now.”

A giggle slipped through the (h/c) haired woman’s lips, which she immediately silenced by pressing the tips of her fingers to her lips. Her handmaiden was now lying out of her ass, unless a couple of bruises and some fractured ribs were heavy injuries— considering Giyuu’s occupation. 

“You must have had quite the fall…” 

Giyuu’s intense gaze had let up at that conversational piece, which put his expression back to his normal, apathetic one. “The tree was on a cliff.”

(Y/n) couldn’t help it, a small smile crossed her face at the butterflies that invaded her stomach. To know that he had risked that much just to get her something that she loved, well… if that wasn’t sweet, then she didn’t know what was.

“I’ll take care of you,” She whispered through the fond smile, before scurrying to one of her chests and procuring the medicine box that she kept just for him. With that in hand, she sat back down across from him and took out the supplies that she needed. It helped that he had already taken off his haori and uniform top ealier; it saved them some time.

Slowly, with nimble fingers, she rubbed a soothing salve across her lover’s skin. The feel of his hard muscles beneath her hands made her body hot for him, but she pushed the urge to have a repeat of earlier to the back of her mind. And when she was done rubbing the balm into his shoulders, she gave in to the tiniest urge to place a kiss along his jaw. 

In response, Giyuu tensed up, before relaxing as his lover started sucking and nibbling at the side of his neck. A quiet sigh escaped his lips, just as his mind focused on the heavenly feel of her kisses upon him. 

He wanted to tell her that he loved her as well, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to hurt her like that; to give her his heart, and also reaffirm it with his words, only to have death constantly hanging above his head. That would be unfair to her; much more unfair than not saying the words. 

Maybe, when the war against Kibutsuji Muzan was over, he could say it back.

For now, he could settle for saying it in his head.

‘I love you, (Y/n).’

  ***

 “It’s been weeks since your last visit, Tomioka-san,” (L/n) Eiji began conversationally, all while picking at the piece of simmered salmon laid out in front of him. He was about to continue, when his eldest— and only— son cut him off.

“Yes, you should have never returned,” Toshiro snapped, which earned the ire of both his family members. Still, he went on— seemingly undeterred by the deadly glares that (Y/n) and their father aimed at him. “Stayed away from my sister; the farther the better.” 

With a scowl on her face, (Y/n) shot at her brother, “Onii-san, don’t disrespect Tomioka-san like that.”

“(Y/n)-chan, there are a lot more men out there; ones that don’t put themselves on the line on a daily basis. Ones that don’t kill demons for a living.” 

Giyuu paid no mind to the older male’s chatter, as it was a regular topic when he visited (Y/n). He had already grown desensitized to the scathing remarks and thinly veiled threats that his betrothed’s brother always spat at him, but he’d be damned if he didn’t admit that it was starting to get annoying.

“We may as well get married tomorrow, just to spite you,” The sole woman in the room answered with an irate click of her tongue.

“Toshiro, kami-sama help me, I will disown you if you keep this up,” Eiji gave the ultimatum, which surprised everyone— even Giyuu himself. Never had the head of the (L/n) clan ever issued such a threat, and it served to silence the babbling Toshiro into a dumbstruck stupor. “Tomioka-san is as part of this family as you are; and we owe him more than this…”

“Gochiso sama deshita,” Giyuu muttered softly, before putting his chopsticks back against the rest that was set up on the table. “May I be excused?”

“Ah yes, of course, Tomioka-san,” The (L/n) patriarch answered, before silencing his son with a well-aimed glare. 

“May I be excused as well, otou-san?” (Y/n) asked in a tone that brooked no room for arguments.

Blue eyes eyed her suspiciously, but flitted back to the well-illuminated garden a few ways away. The sun was barely setting over the horizon, and with the chill of the night starting to draw closer, it seemed a good time as any for the Demon Slayer to squeeze in a leisurely walk. 

And to also patrol for the demon that he had sensed lurking around the area. 

The demonic presence was extremely faint, but it was there. He would have to see about getting a new set of Wisteria charms for the (L/n) estate.

“Tomioka-san, please wait for me,” (Y/n) called softly, as she hastened after the man himself. It stung that he had snubbed her, but that was Giyuu’s normal attitude. The (h/c) haired woman would be more worried had he started acting any differently. 

To her genuine surprise, the raven-haired man did stop and wait for her. And beside herself, a flustered smile crossed her lips as she picked up the pace to get to him. Normally, he would ignore her and keep walking— which irritated her to no end.

But it seemed that her confession from earlier had stirred something inside him; enough to get him to be more considerate of her feelings. And that made her happy; ecstatic, even.

Still, even the feeling of walking beside him wasn’t enough for her. So, she glanced down at their hands that were mere inches apart, only to jump almost a foot in the air when she looked up and saw Giyuu’s intense stare pinned on her.

She had been caught.

“D-Do you…” The Demon Slayer stuttered out, just as a bright blush colored his cheeks. He immediately snapped his gaze forward, and proceeded to glower at the poor cobblestone path. “Do you want to hold my hand?”

Butterflies immediately assaulted (Y/n)’s stomach at that. They had done things much more lascivious than holding hands but, for some reason, the mere question served to fluster the (h/c) haired woman. She had never even felt flustered when Giyuu ate her out; but to have the simplest and most innocent of questions be the catalyst to making her heart pound was laughable.

Gingerly, (Y/n) reached out and slid her hand into her lover’s, averting her gaze from the scene as if it was the most lascivious thing in the world. When really, she was looking away so that Giyuu wouldn’t see the blush that had taken over her face, even going as far as to heat up the tips of her ears.

Giyuu’s hand felt rough and hard in hers, but she couldn’t deny the fact that it made her feel safe. The man himself might have been glacial and awkward at best, but his touch was anything but; it was warm and comforting— like getting back home after being away for so long. 

And so, their walk around the spacious garden was spent in relative silence, until they sat down on the stone bench beneath the barren sakura tree. Their hands were still entwined, and (Y/n) had taken to cradling her lover’s left hand in her lap— admiring the way that his larger hand curled around her own dainty one.

The silence between them was thick, but it was anything but awkward; it was relaxing, like a small piece of solace in the chaotic world that they lived in. 

From where he sat, Giyuu shamelessly ogled his lover. His eyes ran over her distinctly delicate features; the slight upward tilt of her eyes, the high arches of her cheek bones, her cute nose, and those pillowy-soft lips of hers. He loved every inch of her, and the words were burning on the tip of his tongue, yet he could never allow himself to be the cause of her eventual grief. 

He could, however, afford to admit one harmless truth to her. Just that one time, he could be honest with her. 

“The reason I came here…” Giyuu began softly, hesitantly. His throat got all thick, but he swallowed past the lump inside it and gathered up the courage to admit his main agenda.

(Y/n)’s eyes stared into him earnestly; the curiosity in them shining brightly beneath the rays of the setting sun. And even though he felt as if he couldn’t speak, he pushed past the dreadful feeling and spoke, “Was because I missed you, (Y/n).”

Her answering smile was enough to knock the breath out of him; it was so radiant in and of itself that he felt himself returning her expression with a milder one of his own. It was as if the entire world had stopped turning, and there was only her.

And it was at that moment that he realized just how much he loved her; it was too much that he felt himself falling for her all over again.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

[aerinmelina]

Growing up, I used to spend summers with my mom’s parents. They lived in a lakeside community which was also near an ocean, and I enjoyed fishing and swimming and boating and crabbing and such as a teenager.

Anyway. During the summer between my 6th and 7th grade years, my parents bought a house and decided to surprise me by having it all ready by the time I came home from my grandparents’ house at the end of the season. I remember walking into the house - I’d been there before, because it had previously been owned by friends of ours - and my mom said we were house-sitting when I asked her why we were here when our friends weren’t. She then led me from room to room and kept asking questions like, “Why do you think they put this in here?” and “Why do you think they painted this room pink?”

I wasn’t stupid. I know that Something Was Up. I just never imagined that my parents would have bought a house at all, let alone this one.

“Maybe they’re expecting a daughter?” I said. It wasn’t a baseless assumption; the couple who had owned the house previously were young and the wife had been pregnant.

“No, it’s because this is your room now!”

My thoughts at the time?

Pink. Oh my gosh. It’s pink. Whyyyyyyy.

Hang on. Is my mom letting me move in with this family? I mean. I’ll miss my dad and brother. But like. Why this family? I like them fine, but I don’t want to live with them.

(^^That is literally how far fetched I believed the idea of my parents owning a house was. They were terrible with money. The worst. And houses cost money. Lots of it.)

Anyway. My mom was offended that I was offended because my room was bright pink when, at the time, I was going through this tomboy phase and liked all things blue and black and she knew that and she painted my room anyway in her attempt to “girlify” me, which was not lost on me at all, and which I was equally annoyed with.

I digress. I had a new, pink bedroom in a new-to-us house. With a back yard. Which wasn’t next to a metal factory, so that meant my brother and I could actually play outside without like. Worrying about getting metal shavings imbedded in our feet. (Story for another day.)

Along with this move came a switch in middle schools. My parents fought hard to keep my brother in his elementary school, but they didn’t even ask to try and keep me in my middle school. I was 12. I would have to make brand new friends. I was pretty shy. I was not happy about this. At all.

I remember going to my new school to fill out enrollment forms and such. The school was literally 3 minutes away from our new house, just up the street; I would be walking to and from school every day, something which I was actually kind of looking forward to. If I could look forward to anything. I hated this. I didn’t ask to move. Our apartment had been just fine.

Anyway. Sitting in the main office at the new school, I was given a list of elective classes and was told to number them in order of my all-star favorite to please-don’t-put-me-in-this-class least favorite. The office staff told me that because I was enrolling so late, a lot of the classes had already filled up, but they would do their best to put me in the classes I wanted to take along with the standard courses that every student would be taking. I looked at the list. Choir :), Accelerated P.E. (wow that sounded like a nightmare), Art :), Metal Shop!!, Wood Shop!!, Drama (nah), Speech (Super Nope!!!), and a few others which I’ve forgotten by now.

My list went something like this:

Choir

Wood Shop

Art

Metal Shop

Accelerated P.E.

Drama

Speech

Speech was at the absolute bottom of my list. The office staff told me that the teacher for Drama and Speech was amazing, talked him up, and asked me why I didn’t want to take that class. I said I was shy and had a fear of public speaking. Duh. They kind of grimaced and looked at each other, then said, “We’ll do our best,” and sent my mom and I on our way back home.

I wasn’t surprised when I saw Speech on my class list a week or so later. I wouldn’t have it until second semester, thankfully, but I was already dreading it.

Seventh grade at this new school wound up being a lot of fun, if I’m being perfectly honest. I hated being the new kid at first, but made friends with another new kid who was way more outgoing than I was, and together we eventually made friends with more people. I have lots of stories to share there, but today I wanted to talk about Speech Class.

My speech teacher was, well… let’s call him Mr. Jones. He was outgoing, had clear expectations, was pretty mellow, and honestly? He was charismatic and the entire student body loved him.

I was a nervous wreck when I stepped into his classroom for the first time (and for most of the following times thereafter as well). For whatever reason, I had no problems singing solos in front of the whole school (and I did so twice that year), but the idea of public speaking was petrifying. And I even had lots of opportunities to practice that through both my church and school.

(I know I’m not alone in this sentiment.)

One of the first things Mr. Jones told us was that by the end of the semester, we would be able to deliver speeches and oral reports without using “filler words” such as “like”, “um”, and “er.” He also told us that our vocabulary would expand considerably, thanks to weekly tests he would be giving us (noooo). And we would be delivering speeches to one another on a weekly basis as well, on a variety of different subjects, and those speeches would increase in length as the semester drew on. All students were to compliment each presenting student on something they did well with each speech they gave, and critique would be solely left to Mr. Jones to provide. (Which was good, because let’s face it, 7th grade kids can be positively evil to each other.) Mr. Jones made it clear that we were not to judge or criticize anyone else’s speeches, and told us that he trusted us to keep each other’s speeches confidential. He explained that he wanted his classroom to be a safe place for us to talk about whatever we wanted; things we enjoyed, books we loved, problems we had, negative life experiences, positive life experiences, etc.

These were all very important factors which, honestly, influenced and changed my life for the better. I’ll get into that in a bit.

Mr. Jones’ class was tough. And I was terrified. I tried to drop his class, but was assured by the office that all of the other half-year elective classes were full; I didn’t have any other options. So I bit the bullet and decided to try my best. I would call no more attention to myself than I absolutely had to, I would try to not fail the vocabulary tests, and I would listen to others and provide sincere compliments. I would also - gulp - do my best at giving public speaking a shot.

I don’t exactly remember the method which Mr. Jones used in order to get us to stop using “filler words” in our speeches, but it worked. I don’t remember specific vocabulary words I was forced to memorize, but he was right; my understanding of the English language, and the number of words in my arsenal, greatly expanded. And I learned several important lessons:

Courage doesn’t mean that there’s an absence of fear. It means that you follow through with what you know is right, regardless of however much fear you are feeling.

Sometimes we are given tasks which we feel are way above our ability to manage. These are times when we must challenge ourselves to rise to the occasion.

(Going along with #2) You never know what you are capable of until you are put to the test. You’d be surprised at what you can personally accomplish.

Other people have different experiences than you; you can choose to listen and learn from their experiences, and you can 100000% do so without being a jerkface to them, too.

Teenagers are capable of respecting the people around them, are capable of empathy, and are capable of keeping confidentiality/maintaining bonds of trust. These are powers which teenagers do possess, and powers which they absolutely can control, utilize, and choose to exercise. (I was deeply impressed by my fellow classmates.)

One semester of a speech class didn’t cure my fear of public speaking. Not at all. But it did give me valid tools which I still use to this day. It gave me a lot of confidence in my capabilities to gather my thoughts on a piece of paper, organize them into a cohesive flow, and then be able to read those thoughts aloud without stumbling all over them. Mr. Jones laid the foundation for me to begin to think critically. To really consider my words before I write or say them. He drilled into my brain that I had a voice, and that it was a voice worth sharing and being listened to. Those are lessons I will never forget. And, because of Mr. Jones and everything I learned from him, I entered a career field which ultimately led to me speaking in public on a regular basis. I am a leader in my office. I provide training for our new and existing employees. I am aiming to become a manager within the next couple of years.

I’m still nervous when it comes to public speaking (especially during those times when I am speaking in a courtroom). I will probably always be nervous about it. I have been extremely close to vomiting from nerves in the past. But you know what? I’ve spoken before, I’ve survived, I’ve been successful at it, and I’ll do it again in the future. My confidence really started to blossom with my 7th grade speech class, where I received tons of practice, and that practice was further compounded by other speaking opportunities at school and church as well.

Mr. Jones was an excellent human being. He was well-loved for a million reasons. He believed in us, and we didn’t want to prove him wrong.

I believe in you, too. I say this, because I know that a lot of you need to hear it. I’m being sincere. I believe in you. You can do hard things. You can make it through.

[ladybalem]

She-slave's soul - a Confession about Balem Abrasax - part 2 of 3

* SMUT ALERT: 50 SHADES OF JUPITER'S SMUT AS FAR AS THE EYES CAN SEE * PLUS: ALERT OF PAIN. There's a little around here. If you don't like it, don't read it. You've been warned. * Pairing: Balem x OC (Malena) * <18+ it's still not enough for this. Keep it to read only when you're at the university, lol> * * * (continuing...)          Excited, Malena obeyed him, getting kneeled before Balem and with no delay she spread her lips and received his length between them with a vulgar moaning of  satisfaction as she worked to make it to stiff between her anxious lips, what didn't take no long to happen, while over Malena's head Balem was  finishing to tear off one of the long sleeves of her silver dress, remaining just with it in his right hand as he threw the rest of it away at the floor at the bed. And as Balem found himself ready, his sex growing between her lips in an  extraordinary way due to the  phenomenal attention his she-slave was dedicating it, taking the tore sleeve of her dress he just blindfolded Malena with it, tying it over her eyes. And she moaned in pleasure as, making her then to stop what she was doing, Balem held her by her hair, keeping Malena halted, and that way he began to move his hips with impetus against her face, who held herself to his thin thighs, just letting him to take her entire mouth, while she moaned. Never Balem would be able to put it entirely into Malena's mouth as he seemed to intend to do, and she was truly almost gagging at each thrust of him into  her throat; but to listen at his low tone and guttural moans while he was doing that to her was arousing Malena in a way that she abandoned herself to moan out loud as well, superficially breathing, cause the feeling of being possessed and used by him that way it was delicious for her to the point of that there was no words to express as she felt then. And seeming to guess her thoughts, Balem moaned to her in middle of the noises that were escaping from his throat wrapped by  the high metal collar:          - What is the feeling of being taken this way, slave? Do you enjoy this?          It was obvious that she wasn't able to respond him, but it was exactly this what excited Balem the most while doing her this question, and leaving her hair and exiting from her mouth, that for an instant just stayed opened as if her just like didn't comprehend why did he done that, Balem commanded:          - To the bed. On your knees and hands, slave.          Closing her mouth and swallowing Malena stretched one of her arms into the bed's way behind her, grabbling to it, and she lifted herself up slowly, turning into its direction, still stretching her arms forward, and as they reached the bluish camp Malena felt both of her hands to ascend up weightless, but Balem, pressing the button behind his right ear, turned off the system, and then she got to get over the bed, still blindfolded, the bunch of grapes falling at her side. And crawling Malena went to the center of the large bed, panting by now, and soon she felt he was getting over behind her, taking position on his knees at her back, palming his large hands on the palpitating and trembling shapes of her butts, fawning it in a circular caress until Balem to turn his hands and slide descending both of them palmed through her thighs until they reach Malena's bent knees' back, scratching her skin with his nails as he restarted to come up, repeating the caress as he reached the top again.          And then with the fingers of his left hand he pulled apart her fold lips, sliding in sequence the medium finger of his right through the middle of them, and clapping his tongue as he heard her to moan so deliciously and as he saw his she-slave to softly arch her spine, Balem whispered, with a voice that caused her a shiver at the basis of her spine:          - So wet - and he slid his finger inside, making it to bend inside her, that once again arched her back and moaned, and pulling it out and sliding it along her femininity again he turned to say - So warm. Your body is imploring for mine. Perfection.          - Oh, yes, my Lord, I  implore - Malena moaned - Take me to yourself, I  implore.          A black smile showed on his face, but he stood still a little back on his knees, placing both his large hands on her butts and that time placing apart her fold lips with his thumbs; and inclining down his head he pointed out his tongue and glided it along of her sex for whole from down to up, and being overrun by a trembling Malena moaned out loud:          - Oh! My Lord!          Balem smiled mysteriously over her sex, proud and satisfied of the power he exerted over her, turning to repeat what he have done once more as his she-slave moaned out loud:          - Each part of my body implores for yours, my Master. Each part of my body belongs to you, Lord Balem, use what's yours. I  implore!          And having that terrible wicked smirk still on his face, Balem with no warning penetrated her at once, pulling Malena to himself with his both hands with strength, his growing nails digging into her flesh at each thrusting. And she  abandoned herself moaning out loud, Balem deriving pleasure of the deliciously vulgar way she was expressing herself, and after some good number of deep thrusts given into her with strength, he stretched one of his arms, pulling Malena back by her hair, making her to lift her torso up, and panting the she-slave stood on her knees, falling her head aside as he was asking, roaring on Malena's ear:          - To whom do you belong, she-slave?          - To you, my Lord, solely to you, my Lord.          Balem then slid his free hand along her sweaty and trembling body, keeping on to thrust inside her even at that position, and holding one of her breasts, he tightened it - And will you belong to someone else some other day?          - No! I rather die than do such, my beloved Lord!          And in a single gesture Balem tore away the blindfold from Malena's eyes, pushing her forward and making her to fall on her hands again, restarting to thrust against her with strength.          - My Lord... - she spoke out loud, in ecstasy - Possess me, Lord Balem, possess me... I belong to you, my Lord!          Inebriated with the way Malena was submissive to him and with the fact she felt an incredible pleasure with that, panting between his locked teeth Lord Balem felt uncommon desires and desired to satisfy them right there and right then: Bringing his right thumb to his lips, licking it to lubricate it, without stopping thrusting into her, he softly forced his thumb to inside of her back entrance, introducing there just its tip, as Malena moaned slightly in pain by this time, and noticing this, he left to fall from his lips over her a long string of spit, under which warm touch she moaned in pleasure, but he soon forced his finger inside again, then introducing it for whole, and as Balem had never made this to her before the expectation aroused her, although Malena was still feeling pain.          And just don't managing for long the hot and extremely tight feeling his thumb was experiencing, Balem desired another thing, and getting out from her while removing his finger as well, he made to fall over her back entrance another long string of saliva, that was only what he had at hand at that moment to make use, quickly placing the tip of his length there. But when he forced it to the inside, Malena moaned and contorted herself in pain.          - Relax! - he commanded, both hands stroking along of her buttocks, before to lead them to the curve of her groins and pull his slave to himself. Tears drained from Malena's eyes as his length getting to bend he felt the difficulty to get in, Balem moaning in pleasure now as he was pulling her with a hand of his while with the other he was arranging and holding to himself, forcing his entrance millimeter by millimeter, and with a wicked voice he grunted - You said that every part of your body were mine, and you implored me to use what is mine - moaning out loud she sobbed then, tightening her eyes, feeling him to get in more and more - And THIS is what I want by now.          - My Lord, please, make use of  mercy! It hurts, my Lord!          - Implore me for doing this - he commanded, ignoring her request.          - Lord Balem!          Getting to keep his length straight and grinding his teeth, making strength against her he entered then to the end, closing his eyes tight shut and retorting his neck back as he let a grunting to scape out, and in a single movement he cringed his belly and just pulled a half out, what made her to moan out loud in agony, and he spoked loud:          - Oh, Malena! Perfection!          - My beloved Lord, please!          - Quiet! Relax! - and he spitted  once more, at that time disdainfully, on the half of his own sex that was out before to once again introduce it inside her, starting to thrust on as he was grunting loud, barely supporting the pressure made by her virgin ass around his so potent length, and little by little a strange mixing of pain and pleasure installed itself on Malena, who was still weeping, but that by now restarting to incline her  hips up into his direction as before, at each thrust. And the pain was step by step disappearing, and a pleasure she didn't judge before that would exist began to show itself to her very slowly. And inclining himself over her back, getting too on his hands above her, Balem with one of his large hands made Malena to turn her face as he licked up one of her cheeks:          - It pleases me the taste of your tears, my she-slave. (to be continued...)

[kaiunkaiku]

Welp, I wrote a fic | Ao3

Summary: Bakugou has a shit morning. Kirishima is a ray of sunshine. Aizawa does his duty as the unofficial father figure of the class.

Warnings: Implied PTSD, mentioned vomiting and nightmares, dissociation, chronic pain, my dialogue writing, also chaotic students. Some talk of trauma and therapy, reference to Todoroki’s bullshit family life

Enjoy!

Morning classes are no one’s favorites, except for perhaps Iida’s, but Aizawa, for all his hatred for the concept of doing anything before noon, doesn’t remember encountering this kind of a situation while teaching his current class. Mornings are, of course, in general quieter than the rowdy afternoons when the kids are fully awake, but he’s not quite used to the lack of annoyed grumbling, the occasional yell or the muffled, tired shushing that’s probably supposed to be discreet.

Instead, there’s only quiet whispering throughout the classroom, and a few glances thrown at the two empty desks. Aizawa is curious himself, and possibly a tad bit concerned, but maybe the kids are late.

The dorms being a five-minute walk away should have taken care of that problem, though. Of course he understands that sometimes students are late because of traffic or something he can conveniently put in the same category, but the dorms fixed even Kaminari’s perpetual lateness for the most part, and the majority of the class usually arrives in two or three groups.

If his memory serves him right, Aizawa doesn’t remember a single case of a student being absent and nobody bothering to notify him in the entirety of his teaching career. His students, especially in their first year, tend to be properly terrified of him at least enough not to skip class.

Then again, he still hasn’t expelled a single student from this class (although if it wasn’t for the current, inconvenient circumstances, Mineta would have been at least suspended a while ago for inappropriate behavior. He regrets not doing that at the beginning of the first year).

Right now, the empty seats of Kirishima and Bakugou seem to be glaring at him. It’s way too early for this, and maybe he could chalk it up to the boys being young and hormonal and in love, but Bakugou, despite his attitude and personality, is an exceptionally diligent student when compared to most of his peers.

But the possibility of them being late still stands, so Aizawa decides to give them a few more minutes to appear with a proper explanation and goes on to read Jirou’s argumentative essay on foreign language studying in elementary school.

He has three pages left, because this girl has opinions, when out of the corner of his eye he sees a shock of blonde hair approaching him with what looks suspiciously like a smartphone instead of a textbook or a notebook. Judging from the way Kaminari’s fingers fidget around the device and the slightly terrified look on his face, he’s well aware of the fact that phones are strictly banned in the classroom with the sole exception of searching information concerning an assignment, and this could very well end up with his phone in Aizawa’s desk drawer for the remainder of the day.

Aizawa does recall seeing Kaminari fiddling with his phone earlier, too – in fact, he can just as easily recall at least Sero, Ashido and Midoriya doing the same thing, with several of their classmates occasionally checking their phones. Maybe he should have done something fifteen minutes ago, but if no one falls asleep thanks to the blue light they keep staring at, he’ll forgive them before nine AM.

Looking at Kaminari’s anxious expression as he walks to the front of the class like he probably would to an executioner that hasn’t been given an order yet, Aizawa is starting to be fairly sure he won’t be seeing Kirishima or Bakugou in his classroom today. Behind Kaminari, a few other students are nervously glancing around and furiously tapping at their phones. Several phones vibrate simultaneously, telling Aizawa with certainty that they’re all screaming in their group chat. He briefly wonders what the thing is currently named, because he knows for a fact that at one point it was called Adopted by Aizawa and another Is nobody in this goddamn class straight (that one, Aizawa wonders himself, too, at times, but considering that he’s been in a relationship with a man for well over a decade, well, he supposes he doesn’t have much to say to that).

Kaminari’s phone buzzes, too, but he doesn’t even look at it, which leads to the logical conclusion that whatever the reason is for him to be bringing a phone to Aizawa instead of an exercise, it’s more important than what’s undoubtedly obnoxious, emoji-filled caps lock mess of “what the fuck are you doing” directed at Kaminari.

Deciding to give the kid a break, Aizawa sighs and looks up at Kaminari. He makes sure not to glare, because that would be counterproductive in this situation and just slow things down, and instead schools his expression into a neutral one.

“What is it?” he asks, not quite managing to keep the sleepiness from his voice. Kaminari glances down at his phone, the light of the screen briefly reflecting in his eyes, and then focuses his eyes on Aizawa’s face.

“Um,” Kaminari starts, already stuttering on the one syllable. “I, uh, well,” he mumbles, and his eyes wander somewhere behind Aizawa and then to the desk. Aizawa raises one eyebrow as Kaminari glances at his phone again. The rest of the classroom has gone silent – even the constant buzzing has stopped.

“Kirishima says Bakugou’s sick,” he then mumbles, words leaving his mouth fast and surprisingly quiet. “That’s pretty much all I can get out of him, but, I mean…” Kaminari drifts off, glancing nervously around again, and Aizawa is starting to suspect that he’s more afraid that Bakugou will blast through a window or a wall and continue on to blow up his head for even trying to suggest such a thing than he is of Aizawa confiscating his phone. “It’s gotta be pretty bad if he’s admitting it, right?”

Inclined to agree, Aizawa nods.

Kaminari is quiet for a moment, hands still fidgeting with his phone, and Aizawa looks at him expectantly. It’s still too early for this, and he’d like for Kaminari to continue if he’s going to. It takes way too long for Kaminari to take the hint before he clears his throat.

“So, uh, I figured I should probably tell you, since you’re the teacher and all, and, uh, yeah,” Kaminari continues, fidgeting. Aizawa almost feels sorry for the kid.

The rest of the class stares as Aizawa stands up from behind his desk. It’s unbelievably quiet, and while Aizawa appreciates them worrying for their classmates, he doesn’t really care for how obvious they are about it. They’re kids, of course, yes, but they’re also future pro heroes who should not look this concerned over what probably doesn’t warrant that level of concern.

It crosses his mind that he might not know something he probably should.

He straightens himself, taking note of his stiff arms – they’re always stiff, these days, and sore, and sometimes he can’t bend them properly – and sweeps his gaze across the classroom. Kaminari is still standing in front of him, fingers curled almost protectively around his phone.

“Iida,” he starts, and said boy snaps into attention immediately. “I’m stepping out for a second. You and Yaoyorozu are in charge.” Iida vocalizes his understanding and Aizawa knows he’s going to come back to absolute chaos because that’s what his class is. “Kaminari, back to your seat. If I see your phone again today, I’m confiscating it,” he remembers to say, and Kaminari scrambles back to his seat so quickly he almost trips over his own feet.

According to the security system in place at the Heights Alliance, the building is mostly empty, with the notable exception of two people in Bakugou’s room. The system is connected to his phone, as it is to the phones of all the staff members that deal with the students on a daily basis, and this is so much better than having the bots inform him of everything back when the dorms were still brand new. The bots are bitchy.

He sends a quick message to Hizashi to please go check on his class if he can find the time, and tells him to take every cell phone he sees even though he knows Hizashi won’t do it.

The walk is short, and Aizawa soon finds himself in front of Bakugou’s room. He knocks three times and hears footsteps from the other side, and then he’s facing messy red hair, wide, red eyes, and sharp teeth, making up one Kirishima Eijirou, who has no socks on and hasn’t styled his hair up.

The visible tension in Kirishima’s shoulders drains away as he recognizes who he just opened the door to, and his whole frame slumps in relief.

“Sensei,” he breathes out, before Aizawa has time to say anything. Then his eyes widen. “Oh, crap, I’m so sorry, I swear we didn’t mean to skip and we’re not doing anything stupid during school hours,” Kirishima starts, and suddenly he’s rambling in a slightly panicked way. Aizawa decides Kirishima isn’t in trouble for this.

“I just, I couldn’t just leave him here alone,” Kirishima continues, eyes flicking to where Aizawa knows the bathroom is. Then he freezes, and Aizawa cranes his neck to see what Kirishima is looking at.

There’s a digital clock on the nightstand, and Kirishima manages to whisper a soft “fuck” before he turns back to face Aizawa, eyes wider and now looking decidedly scared. “I swear I didn’t realize it was already almost nine,” he says in a meek voice, and Aizawa finally raises his hand between them to silence him. Kirishima’s mouth snaps shut.

“You’re not in trouble,” he says, and Kirishima relaxes. “Just tell me what’s going on. You told Kaminari that Bakugou was sick?”

Moving away from the doorway, Kirishima starts explaining as he lets Aizawa in. There’s a massive All Might poster staring at him.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually know what’s wrong.” Kirishima moves his hands helplessly. “He had a nightmare, which is nothing new, really, he has those, I have those, I’m pretty sure everyone has those," and oh, that's probably what Aizawa should have known but didn't, "but he was really out of it after, and now that I think about it he may have had a panic attack. And he was feeling sick, and so we’ve been camping in the bathroom since then. I think it was like five in the morning. He’s thrown up a few times,” he explains, hands fidgeting, as he nudges the bathroom door open with his foot.

Bakugou looks absolutely miserable.

He’s curled up to himself, hugging his knees to his chest, leaning on the wall next to the toilet, and he doesn’t even glance at the door when it opens, instead staring at a fixed spot in front of him. He’s wearing what looks like a Crimson Riot hoodie that’s a little too big on him, and his knuckles are white. The room reeks of sickness.

Kirishima sits down on the floor next to Bakugou, moving softly, and presses a kiss to his temple. “Hey there,” he murmurs. “I came back, you’re fine,” he continues, fingers settling to Bakugou’s hair, and on some level he reminds Aizawa of Hizashi. Bakugou doesn’t react.

Crouching down sends a twinge of pain from his knees to his hips, because today is apparently a shit day pain-wise, but Aizawa does it anyway. Being on eye-level with Bakugou, the kid looks even worse; his eyes are bloodshot and lips chapped, and he looks very pale. A quick check confirms that Bakugou isn’t wearing his hearing aids, so he digs his memory for sign language – he hasn’t seen Hizashi’s parents in a while, so he hasn’t  used  it in a while. He’s not exactly fluent in JSL, but Bakugou can hear something, so he’s going to make this work.

“Bakugou,” he starts, and fuck, the kid flinches. But the vacant look in his eyes clears, if just a bit, and Bakugou turns to look at him instead of the wall. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Bakugou stares at him for a moment, a considering look in his eyes as if he’s trying to figure out something, and then swallows thickly. Kirishima hasn’t stopped running his fingers through Bakugou’s hair, and his previously free hand has slipped to hold Bakugou’s.

“I feel like shit and I want it to stop,” Bakugou croaks, tone detached and emotionless.

“Okay,” Aizawa replies, even though that did not answer his question. But Bakugou is clearly not lying, either. “I want to check if you have a fever, which means I’m going to touch your forehead,” he explains, trying to emphasize the words with a few key signs he doesn’t think he botches. He reaches a hand forward, but Bakugou interrupts him.

“I’m not sick,” he says, still without any emotion, but he sounds surprisingly convinced of this considering the unhealthy pallor of his skin and the fact that he’s been throwing up. Aizawa quirks an eyebrow.

“I’m going through some bullshit trauma response,” Bakugou continues, clutching Kirishima’s hand, “and it won’t stop.”

Which, okay, Aizawa can understand, because he’s been there, right down to describing the post-nightmare haze as bullshit trauma response when reality didn’t feel like reality and his body didn’t feel like his body. He can’t even imagine what it must be like to go through that at seventeen, because at the very least Aizawa himself was a proper adult and an actual, full-fledged, licenced hero with several years of experience when that particular brand of bullshit trauma response first hit him. Bakugou, on the other hand, is still a teenager, a student, a kid, and so is Kirishima.

He’s throwing Bakugou back to therapy starting tomorrow.

After the incident last fall, Aizawa made sure to force every single one of his students to sit down with a counselor. That lead to a few of his students agreeing to start therapy, and Aizawa keeps careful tabs on who’s going and how the rest of them are doing mentally; Bakugou quit at the end of the school year, Iida, Midoriya, Asui and Kirishima all sat a few sessions, Todoroki is still going, and if Aizawa is being honest, he doesn’t think Todoroki will ever get out of therapy. In any case, he does not need a repeat of a student having a mental breakdown and trying to kill a fellow student.

Looking at Bakugou now, Aizawa doesn’t think he’ll resist the idea too much.

Somehow, standing up is even worse than crouching down was. His knees protest, his ankles protest, his hips, his back, everything. It doesn’t matter, not right now. He’s an adult, and a teacher, and on duty.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he starts once he’s straightened up. Kirishima’s eyes snap up to him, while Bakugou continues to stare where Aizawa’s face just was. “I’m going to call the nurse’s office, and they’re going to send someone here to give Bakugou something to calm down. You’re both excused for the day,” he adds, because he figures Kirishima wouldn’t be able to concentrate in class anyway.

“They’re gonna sedate me,” Bakugou states bluntly, and there’s still the detached tone to his voice.

“Not if you don’t want to– “

“I don’t.”

“– but they’re still going to check you up to see if there’s something else wrong. Do you still feel sick?”

Bakugou nods slowly, and Aizawa resists the urge to sigh. The poor kid is in for a long day.

 XxX

Aizawa stays with the boys until a nurse whose name he doesn’t remember determines that Bakugou is dehydrated, exhausted, and indeed going through some bullshit trauma response; he’s damn near tachycardic, and apparently he’s been dissociating for hours. He won’t talk, so Kirishima provides information where he can – Bakugou still doesn’t seem to have a full grasp on everything that’s going on around him, not to mention what has been going on for the past few hours besides feeling horrible and confused.

In the end, the nurse gives him something to help with the nausea, and convinces him that a mild sedative is a better idea than continuing to feel like shit because he’s too wound up. Getting Bakugou up from the floor turns out to be the most difficult task, because he’s stiff as all hell and shaky on his feet. He doesn’t want to be touched, which is understandable but inconvenient, and once upright he wobbles and almost crashes into Kirishima.

Bakugou seems to fall asleep the second his head hits the pillow, and the nurse gives Kirishima some general instructions like keeping him hydrated and trying to get him to eat something, and tells him to call immediately if Bakugou starts getting worse or if his condition doesn’t improve in a few hours.

Finally walking back to the main building after reassuring Kirishima that yes, taking today off is fine and no, they’re not in trouble for not showing up to class, Aizawa swallows two painkillers dry and prepares himself for the mess that his class is likely to be when he returns.

 XxX

As expected, Aizawa comes back to absolute chaos.

Kaminari is draped over Sero in a vaguely disturbing angle. Midoriya and Todoroki are hunched over the former’s desk in what decidedly does not look like studying. There seems to be a dance party at the back of the classroom, attended by Ashido, Aoyama and Hagakure, with Jirou providing music. Iida and Yaoyorozu are both sitting at their seats looking defeated.

There’s a nice couch in the teachers’ lounge. He can take a nap there. It’s fine. Hizashi can do something about his class.

[stardyng]

I love your blog as a Sansa and Jonsa fan, and I can’t help but see your Harry x Sansa opinions while perusing. I didn’t read the books, so my question is - why isn’t the ship more popular if indeed Harry seems like a good match? I’ve read that Harry is an ass, does his character evolve to be a worthy match for Sansa? And finally, how important do you think his role is if he doesn’t even exist in the show? Please get back to me when you have free time! I’d really love to read your thoughts :)

There’s a multitude of reasons why Harry Hardyng, and the pairing itself aren’t popular, and I am painfully aware of the reasons. There are essentially two main reasons for this. 

First of all, Harry is not only a book only character, but he and Sansa only had one conversation with each other in a unpublished chapter that you can find online. In order to read that chapter, you have to have read the five other books. This makes the pairing itself quite inaccessible compared to a lot of her other pairings. Therefore, the people who even know that Harry The Heir exist are already low enough, with many of them already wanting her to be paired off with another character by the time they read the latest Sansa chapter. 

Second of all, and this is one is going to hurt me, but Harry The Heir is a explicitly flawed character…or at least that’s what people seem to think based on what we know about him thus far. People have made elaborated essays on how terrible he is based on the little we know from him. Our introduction to him is him not wanting to have a walk with Sansa because she’s ‘’Littlefinger’s bastard’’, and later we come to find out that he has a child and another girl pregnant. He then proceeds to fat-shame one of his earlier lovers. So…a lot of people end up finishing that chapter really disliking him. I don’t blame them for their feelings, but I just don’t agree. 

However, I think that all of the characteristics and actions that people use in order to prove that he is a terrible person aren’t valid, because a lot of it ignores the fact that there is more to him, and the fact that he too was born and raised in the Westorosi society, and that the way he acts and the way he views certain things are impacted by that very fact. At the end of the day, a lot of Harry’s actions and thoughts can be understood if you acknowledge these two things. 

For starters, I think his negative reaction about having a walk with Sansa is not justified but understandable if we look at things from his perspective. He is forced into a match with a stranger who’s the daughter of a man he doesn’t like, and so he’s angry and says something that isn’t very nice. While he did use the slur ‘’bastard’’, I think that we should consider that perhaps, his problem wasn’t the fact that she was a bastard necessarily, but that he didn’t want to be engaged to anyone in the first place (he’s a 17 year old boy!!!) or simply the fact that she was Littlefinger’s child. It could also be the bastard thing, but to shame him for classism, when a lot of everyone’s favorite characters did or said classist things is completely unfair. They live in a society that promotes classist point of views, and most characters are in environments suffusing in classism. Jon, Catelyn and Sansa among many other protagonists in the story have said or thought things that are rather classist. 

Even when talking about the use of ‘’bastard’’ as a slur, we’ve seen a lot of sympathetic characters use it as well. Catelyn used it ( “I need none of your absolution, bastard.”), Tyrion used it numerous times, Arya used it (’’you’re nothing but a bastard boy!’’), Jaime used it, and Jon even used it as well (’’and we are coming for you, bastard.’’). To solely shame Harry for doing something that the majority of people in Westoros has done I think is rather unfair. 

With that out of the way, the whole situation with Harry The Heir, his sex life, and his own set of ‘’bastards’’ turn a lot of other people off. I’ve seen some people blatantly shame Harry for having sex which is a pretty terrible thing to do. I mean sure he could have use a contraceptive method, but him having casual sex on it’s own isn’t really that bad a thing. However, more people judge Harry in reason of the fact that they think he’s negligent of the women he has had sex with, and I disagree completely with that idea. 

Thing is that the women he has had sex with were not explicitly stated to be his lovers. They could very much just be people he has had casual sex with. This is what he has to say about the mother of his first child:

“Yes. Cissy was a pretty thing when I tumbled her, but childbirth left her as fat as a cow, so Lady Anya arranged for her to marry one of her men-at-arms. It is different with Saffron.” - Alayne I, TWOW

Well what I’m going to do is tell you had these things don’t mean. A lot of people like to say that he stopped being with Cissy because she was pregnant or became fat or some nonsense like that, when in reality, that isn’t stated anywhere. All that’s stated is that she became fat so Lady Anya arranged her to be with someone else. Harry The Heir wasn’t given a choice in any of this. He didn’t get to decide if we has going to stay with her or not. Shaming Harry for something that he didn’t get to decide is rather unfair. Plus, he knows what’s going on with the mother of his child, and the text implies that she is in a financially stable situation and is going to marry a man who will help her take care of the child. She’s completely fine and she doesn’t need him. 

Other people like to discredit him due to his fat shaming in this line. I would just like these people to get off their high horse that they’ve just decided to climb on. Several main protagonists in the story have made fat-shaming jokes or comments. Arya was not happy that she had to sit next to Tommen, ‘’the little fat one’’ instead of the comely prince Joffrey, Ned and Catelyn made some fun of Robert’s weight in the show, Arya called people ‘’grossly fat’’ numerous times, Jon describes Sam as the ‘’fat boy’’ in his head for a lot of his earlier chapters, Tyrion describes the High Septon as being ‘’ as fat as a house.’’, Olenna Tyrell, everyone’s favorite comedian makes a lot of fat-shaming comments and you could find a lot of other fat-shaming comments made by a multitude of characters both major and minor, both protagonists and antagonists in the series. Yet the only one seem to have a problem with is Harry which is completely is unfair, especially when unlike what people say, his comment wasn’t about him leaving her because she was fat, it was about Lady Anya giving her to someone specific because she was fat. 

Then, there’s the question of his second lover Saffron, who is also pregnant. The idea that he left his other lover because he’s negligent and is not willing to take care of his children is untrue not only because that was not the reason he was even separated from Cissy in the first place, but also because he is still around his second lover Saffron, who he has not said one negative thing about. He didn’t express any willingness to run away from her or anything. Therefore that bit of criticism is invalid as well. 

Therefore, at the end of the day, I think none of the things that people use as proof that he is supposedly an ass is valid. I mean sure, one of the minor characters seem to have reached that conclusion, but basing off what he has done and how he has acted with Sansa in their only conversation, I just don’t see it. It’s like how many of the characters in the story seem convinced that Sansa is stupid even though reading her chapters, she comes off as rather intelligent, except this time it’s Harry, who has been extremely respectful of Sansa, yet is apparently an ass. 

That brings me to the fact that Harry has treated Sansa far better than most of the characters in the story. Yes he initially dismissed her because she was Littlefinger’s daughter/bastard at first, but when they interacted later on, he was extremely courteous. He is her only possible love interest who not only apologized to her candidly for his previous actions (’’I was unforgivably rude to you in the yards…you must forgive me,’’), he actually changed his behavior after his apology unlike Tyrion or Ned, whose apology were simply justifications for their actions. Not only that but he called her pretty without being creepy about it, he has been completely honest with her even when she had asked extremely personal questions, he has absolutely no ulterior motives, he genuinely enjoy her as a person, laughs when she makes funny jokes and even complimented her intelligence. People act like he treats women like trash when he respected Sansa’s personal space and didn’t sexually harass her or objectify her in any manner, and even when he talked about his previous lover’s beauty, he was never objectifying or being creepy about it (“Saffron is very beautiful, I’ll have you know. Tall and slim, with big brown eyes and hair like honey.”)  

I think their interaction was really wonderful, because unlike so many of Sansa’s love interests, he actually genuinely respects her. He never dismissed what she had to say at the basis of her sex or anything like that. There’s also more personal reasons as to why I enjoy this ship. I think their dynamic is really enjoyable because I enjoy seeing Sansa tease him and make him blush and bewildered, and it’s evident to me that she is in complete control of the situation when they interact. Most of the times we’ve seen Sansa interact with another character, it’s that other character who is in control, and often use that control to do horrible things to her. However, in this situation, she not only has the agency, but he lets her have it. When she asks personal questions about his life, he answers. When she teases him and plays with him, he genuinely enjoys it. Like when she said he’s bad at conversation, he could have been all insulted, yet instead he laughs at her making fun of him. When she makes a suggestive comment, he grins. I don’t know how so many people can just dismiss the pairing when it’s so refreshing to see Sansa have such freedom in her relationship with someone else. 

So yeah, every criticism that people launch Harry’s way is invalid in my opinion. Some of them are blatantly false, a lot of them are baseless assumptions and others are things that so many of the other protagonists have done and said without as much criticism. I think that Harry has not been an ass to Sansa, and has been really courteous with her. Not only that, but he genuinely respects her and what she has to say unlike so many of the characters people want her to be with. To go even further, their dynamic is unlike every other Sansa dynamic that has some romantic vibes to them because she has a lot of freedom and agency in this particular relationship. I honestly can’t wait to see more of them together. 

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

This is the previous Ti anon, and I’d first like to say I apologize for coming off the way I did, as if I just really wanted to be typed as a Ti user; I didn’t mean to and was only experiencing frustration, as Ti was sort of a last resort, but I’m having trouble identifying whether or not I use it. I’ve no idea why, as I usually have no problem seeing it in other people (such as my confirmed INTP friend, who I recognized high Ti in immediately when he thought himself to be an INTJ),

but when it comes to myself my mind is blanking out on whether or not the definitions apply to me. Due to the misunderstanding, I’ll try to be clearer in this ask, so beginning with this, the question: Judging by the following things, do you think I use high Ti or high Fi, or any other judging function for that matter? I’ve narrowed it down to those two, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. I’m asking solely about the judging functions though because I’m nearly a hundred percent sure that I use dominant Ne and inferior Si, so nothing I say will pertain to those two functions (unless, somehow it does and you think I’m mistyped, in which case please feel free to correct me). I’m not at all sure if everything I’m about to list is really helpful, but: 1.) I think aloud, nearly lol the time. I’m constantly thinking while I’m speaking, as my head is far too messy to organize this stuff internally; the only time I ever release a semi-finished product is in writing because I often edit as I go 

2.) When I don’t understand something, I obsess over it. While I can usually still operate on the basis that that thing is true, in the background I will still try to figure it out on my own time. For example, I’ve more or less settled on being an ENTP due to no other types matching as far as I can see, but before I can truly move on, I need to have it confirmed, and I need to understand why. Otherwise I’ll always doubt it. Hence this ask. (The original question still stands though.)

3.) When I was younger, I always considered things on a logical basis, not anything else. My friend would have a problem, and rather than sympathize, I’d tell her how to fix it and expect her to stop being upset. Now, I’ve gotten a lot better at doing that and understanding that just because there’s a seemingly simple solution to me doesn’t mean they won’t still be upset, but I had to work on both considering others’ feelings when making a decision and taking into account their feelings in general communication. 

4.) When I get stressed, I become a control freak. I obsess over small things, and I don’t let anyone do anything because they won’t do it as well as I do, and if I don’t do it well, I’d still rather it be my fault than theirs. This is shown most often when I wait and procrastinate too long on something and then someone offers to help; I almost always have a mini freak out and tell them not to touch anything, and I hate them hovering over my shoulder. 

5.) When upset, esp anger,I’m very dramatic; I explode and then I get over it. Even mild inconveniences often result in me being overdramatic, though I usually recognize I’m being overdramatic and try not to take anything at face value because I know I’m being irrational. I’m pretty open with most of my emotions, excluding sadness, but thats due to mental illness things that I won’t address. My mood fluctuates a lot, and everyone knows it. I can go from apathetic to happy in two seconds flat and will at least squeal.

Also, I’ve an extremely hard time acknowledging my emotions. I’m usually aware of them, but when it comes to acknowledging them, I’ve the bad habit of shoving them to the side until I absolutely have to deal with them, meaning they’re interfering to a point of it being a problem. When I do finally recognize them, I always shoot for the root of the problem and fix it before moving on, which isn’t always as simple as it sounds unfortunately. Wow, okay, that was an extremely long ask,which I also apologize for, but I’m hoping it gave you anything to work off of? If not though, could you at least tell me what to look for when trying to type myself as a Ti user? (If you’ve already done this elsewhere, my bad; I’ve scrolled through various tags of yours [entp, high ti, ti, etc.] and not been able to find one, which would be a mistake on my part.)

--------

Hi anon,

This paragraph is before I’ve done any typing and just quickly skimmedbut: if you’re having trouble probably the most significant aspect here is thateven after I’ve explicitly pointed out that your question is not “what is mytype” but rather “please type me as having Ti” the question you asked was still“how do I determine if I have Ti or not” and that’s not really how I type(which is also why you probably didn’t find anything on the blog). I tend notto go by “do I or do I not have this specific function”, but rather “whatfunctions do I seem to have based on this behavior.” Which is also not to saythis is the only way to type but it is the way I do it, so if you’re looking for someone to zero in on Ti I am probably not a good resource for that.

For the actual typing:

Thinking aloud is very associated with Te actually –the act of externalizing one’s thought process. I suppose it could beconsistent with a dominant extroverted perceiving function as well, but I wouldnot associate it with Ti. Editing as you go could be anything. I edit as I go.I suspect it’s just a matter of habit and preference.

Similarly, wanting to figure something out and having asense of curiosity about it isn’t exclusively Ti; most people are curious andmany are extremely curious and never entirely move on from things they couldn’tfigure out; however, I’d associate Ti with being less able to push it to aconcern to be dealt with in the background.

Focusing on the solution and not comfort is more generallytrue of thinkers, and stressing out and becoming very obsessed with control isI’d argue least true of Ti as a higher judging function – stressed Ti userseither tend to get very logically finicky but not controlling, or have emotionaloutbursts. The controlling aspect could be inferior Si but I’d actually expectto see this far more on the Te-Fi axis; either as high Te going into overdrive immediatelyand you leaning on your strengths, or as lower Te in a stress reaction.

Your emotional description is also making me think of highTe more so than anything high Ti to the point that I think it might be worthcontacting your INTP friend and rethinking their type. Many thinkers tend toignore their emotions to an extent but high Ti users tend to be somewhatunaware of them, whereas Te users are more likely to be aware but refuse toprocess, and especially to shove them aside (though to be fair that can just begood old-fashioned coping mechanisms and denial; I completely understand notwanting ot share mental illness information but as you mentioned that may be havingeffects on your emotional state that are not well explained by MBTI.

So: I would look at the Te doms.If you are absolutely positive you have dominant Ne, I would next considerother factors outside of MBTI; while you’re not necessarily a typical ENFP from this ask you do have some separation of expression vs. felt emotions and I wouldn’t rule out a feeling type entirely, especially since you mentioned mental illness may have an influence on some of your behaviors (not because feelers are mentally ill but because there are known factors that might be influencing your behaviors such that you don’t seem like a typical feeler but could still be one).

[hcpefulmarshmallow]

Let’s talk about Nagito’s family, because in this house, we like to suffer, I guess. I’ve toyed with a few different ideas and themes, some of which I eventually encountered too many errors in to keep, and some which I ultimately decided work. Everything below will henceforth serve as the official basis for how I portray family ties and Ko’s past on this blog, and I’ll try to be as matter-of-fact about it as I can, but...you know me. It’s worth mentioning that I’m not judging anyone’s real-life situation, nor am I judging anyone else’s interpretation of how Ko’s life went down. Interpretation first, reasoning another time if you really want to stick around for that hot mess. I tried to be as self-explanatory as I could, and linked back to my own posts in places that needed it, but if there’s anything that I feel is worth delving into later, I will. I kinda wanted to make something that ties into and explains who he is now, and ties as seamlessly as I can manage into what he’s told us; but also sounds exactly like the kind of thing that’d happen to this poor bastard, if you know what I mean. 

Hc: Nagito’s parents were very well-off, hard-working and successful. However, they were also very distant - from their son and their own respective families - and cold. They had Nagito not because they especially wanted children per se, but rather to have someone to pass on their name and legacy. Being the type of people to care a lot about status, they wanted their child to grow up to be every bit as intelligent, well-respected and successful as them. Intelligent, he certainly was, and without ever really trying; but Nagito never had much interest in what his parents did. Like most little boys, he wanted to do something cool and exciting. A big part of his childhood was spent wanting to be a pilot, but that’s hardly an elite job, now, is it?

 Rather than see if he grows out of it, or better yet accept their son for who he is, Nagito’s parents actively discouraged him from anything they didn’t approve of by shunning him until and unless he acted the way they wanted him to; perfect, polite, smart, and most of all, unemotional. They would dismiss his feelings and ignore his various attention-grabbing escapades; and this on top of their busy work schedules lead Nagito to believe he was just an inherently bad child. That, and how his parents would look down on non-elites; instilling the worthy and worthless mindset in their son, as well as his belief that you shouldn’t try if you know you’ll fail. 

 Nagito felt helpless to drop his interests for them. No matter how much he studied and tried to change his mind, he couldn’t change his heart. He continued to like dogs, and planes, and childish things. He felt doomed to disappoint, leading him to believe that worth is instilled at birth, and if you are worthless, there’s nothing you can do. He coupled himself with lowly trash, and thus began his worship of those made for greatness, and those who achieve greatness despite their hangups. Over time, this developed into the warped obsession with talent we all know of. 

 Nagito’s parents eventually caved to their son’s constant harping for a pet, seeing it as a chance to perhaps make him mature a bit, and certainly to get him off their tails all the time. Being a kid who didn’t make friends easily and was left to his own devices a lot - only adding to his perceived inadequacies - he treasured his new companion like the most precious thing in the world. And, well, we all know how that played out. 

 He named the dog Lucky - because irony’s a bitch - and he was the first thing to show such undying love and loyalty to Nagito. What he couldn’t get from his parents; comfort, support, attention; he got from his dog. This, of course, made the pup’s death, which Nagito always blamed himself for, all the more devastating, never mind the careless driver or lack of adult supervision. Since this was his first incident of major bad luck, a force which would go on to destroy everything he touches, he blames himself wholeheartedly for everything that followed. 

 After losing his best friend and emotional crutch, Nagito became severely depressed. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t even pick up a book. This lead to him becoming quite ill, and actually being hospitalised. After that health scare, his parents finally took notice of how terribly their son was suffering, and made an effort for the first time in his life. They didn’t become good parents overnight, but they tried. The odd pat on the shoulder here, a “how was your day?” there, even a family outing to an amusement park, which Nagito considers one of the best days of his childhood. 

 But the more time they spent with Nagito, the more things seemed to go wrong. Little things, like coffee spills ruining their expensive clothing, to big things like giant deals falling through. And these things only happened when he was around. Subconsciously or consciously, he still doesn’t know, they distanced themselves from him once more. This double-rejection was devastating, annihilating whatever self-worth the young elementary schooler still had. 

 The only reason they took him to San Cristóbal was due to a business retreat that encouraged families to come along. Appearances still meant more than anything. The trip itself was uneventful, but it was on the flight home that this plane-loving wannabe-pilot lost his mother and father, and gained a lifelong fear of flying, and a cemented suspicion that had been growing for some time now that all the bad things that kept happening were all his fault. All because of a meteor the size of a fist (that possibly caused the plane to crash; and personally I think he may have been a sole survivor).  

 After the deaths of his parents, Nagito was shunted from relative to relative, though understand that term is used in a strictly biological sense. Most of these people he’d met maybe once or twice, if at all. The freedom to which he so often refers to as a result of his parents dying is both freedom from being constantly afraid for his mother and father, but also freedom to do almost whatever he wanted. He was, essentially, a stranger to these people, who all already had their own lives and jobs and children. Nagito long suspected that the only reason anyone took him at all was because no one wants to be the asshole that won’t take in their orphaned kid cousin or nephew or whatever.

 (NB: My basis for that he had a lot of family but not many close friends, please recall; we see how his luck targets people close to him, yet he goes out of his way to mention that his luck only targeted him directly and gave him a terminal illness when he had no relatives left. His luck began in elementary school or possibly earlier when his dog died, and he was diagnosed right before entering Hope’s Peak. Personally, I think the idea of him having a lot of relatives he’s not close to makes sense, and it’d just be his luck that they’re all dickheads.)

 But of course, every time, something would happen. Some major disaster, and only ever when Nagito was around. And he would always benefit it in some way. He never goes into detail, but sometimes it involved a financial loss, sometimes a physical one, once or twice or maybe many more, even death. He quickly gained a reputation, and relatives became more and more reluctant to accept him. Furthermore, not a single aunt or uncle among them were especially loving. No one ever stopped to maybe ask this kid if he was okay, help him through his grief, ease his guilt or burden. He was no less an accessory than he’d ever been. Sometimes the family members were fine. They’d mostly ignore him, sometimes hold a conversation, until The Thing inevitably happened. Sometimes they were downright horrible. After a particularly violent episode with a drunk Uncle, Nagito ran, and that’s when he was found and kidnapped. 

 After that, he was deemed a troubled child, and placed in a home. The other children isolated him; this strange kid that strange things happened around, with a penchant for mumbling to himself. He never really minded. They were just like the rest of the people he’d known -- filler, and nothing more. Eventually he, fell ill. This was when he received his terminal diagnosis, and shortly after, acceptance letter into Hope’s Peak.

[witchlingsway]

Bindings, Curses, Hexes, & Jinxes Masterpost

Since a lot of these spells are taking up my blog randomly I decided to add them all as links for easier viewing. NONE of these are mine, just spells I reblogged and was interested in.

Constantly Updated(Last Update: 06/18/2017)

Basic Info

A Quick Spell to Dispel Previous Spells

Blowing Out Candles

Magic Failure: Why Wasn’t My Spell Successful?

Taglocks and Magical Links

The Very Best of Taglocks - An object that forms a link with the individual to be manipulated.

To Break a Spell You’ve Cast(2)

To Reverse a Spell

Why Aren’t My Spells Working? - A break-down of why your magickal intent may not be taking effect in your life.

Witchcraft 101: Taglocks

Basic Info: Specific

A few ways to protect yourself when casting curses, hexes and bindings.

Basic Revenge Magic

Diagnosis of the Evil Eye

Difference Between a Jinx, Hex and a Curse.

Basic Info.: Bindings

Binding Spells - Brief Introduction

Bindings, Bindings, Bindings! - About the different types of bindings and how they can be used.

What Are Binding Spells Used For?

Basic Info.: Curses

Cursing 101

Don’t Want to Curse Anyone? - Satisfying Magical Alternatives to Cursing.

Misfired Curses (And How to Avoid Them)

On Cursing.. - Pro-cursing.

Self Care After Cursing

Basic Info.: Hexes

Why Hexing is the Answer.

Ingredients

Potential Curse Ingredients

Curse Removal

Anti-Curse Powder

Cayenne Hex Breaker

Charm - Curse/Spell Breaker - The ingredients can be used in a single spell around the boarder of your house if you do not want to make many charms. The ingredients can also be used in war water as another effective curse breaking ward or purifier for your property or home. Or you can make several charms and place them at the corners of your house/yard/room, or carry one with you.

Curse Removal & Reversal - A Few Methods of Curse-Removal.

Curse Turner Powder

Hexbreaker Powder

I think someone cursed me :( How do I get rid of it before things get worse? - An ask.

Old Mother Redcap’s Black as Night Curse Removal Scrub

Simple Hex/Curse Reversal - This is an aggressive reversal spell intended to harm or hurt whoever hexed you. This spell also has instructions for a simple hex negation instead of a full reversal.

Two Traditional Ways to Remove a Curse

Bindings

A Houseplant Spell to Bind Bad Behaviors - I got a request to do a post about draining negative energies and letting someone grow into positivity again. Specifically, it related to helping someone overcome an addiction.

Anon's Binding Powder

A Quick Binding Technique

A Triple Charm to Bind and Bring Justice - This charm (from Old Norse Charms, Spoken Spells, and rhymes by Thor and Audrey Sheil) requires a piece of red yarn. As each sister is invoked, a knot is tied. The yarn will be knotted nine times by the end of the spell.

Basic Binding

Bee Nice Stinging Binding Curse - This is a great curse to use on someone that acts like an asshole. It is a binding curse that will sting them whenever they are mean to others, and will lessen when they are nice.

Bind and Break Curse - A curse to bind someone, submerge them in their own negativity, and then break them.

Binding Poppet

“Blood” and Dirt Binding Spell - This spell is ideal for when you’re unable to do anything practical to make a harasser stop, or other efforts have failed. This works as both a binding and banishment. No harm befalls the target by doing this, unless they attempt to harm you or your loved ones (the negative energy will be sent back to them).

Bohemian Witch’s Self Binding Spell - The aim of this binding spell is to exorcise weakness in denying bad habits, influences, and interactions in your life.

Bone’s Bubble Bursting Binding/Curse Jar

Button Eyes - Curse to “Blind” your subject, so they no longer wish to spy upon you.

Cunning Celt’s Simple Binding Spell

“Do you have a spell to bind a fellow witch from doing harm, specifically to stop her from taking other people’s free will?” "What you are looking for is called a binding spell. Binding spells work only for binding her from hurting you, or a friend. It won’t stop her from hurting people in general." - An Ask.

Honey Binding Spell - Binding spells should always be a last resort when all other attempts to stop someone from doing harm have failed. This particular one is gentle but firm and will not hurt them (or yourself).

Ice Binding Spell

Make Them Choke: Binding Curse - This is a curse I’d recommend using against abusers or people threatening you, less of a ‘learn your lesson’ curse and more of a ‘revenge and power’ curse.

Mirror Box Binding - A potent and effective way to bind someone to the effects of that which they cause. Through the means laid out below, the target of this working will be made to reap all that they sew, in that whatever they put out, be it malice, indifference or charity, will be returned upon them from all about. Know then that this binding has a silver lining, in that should the offending party made bound mend their ways, and do good and compassionate things, the same will then begin to reflect back into their lives.

Paint the Mirrors Black: Binding/Banishing Thing - This spell is to help you forget about an ex-partner / lover who was abusive, or just a negative presence in your life. You can also use this spell to help yourself move on from a bad relationship.

Shut the Fuck Up - A binding poppet to silence those who like to gossip, slander, or just won’t shut up.

Simple Binding Spell

Supernatural Iron Chained Binding Curse - To be used on a witch who you feel is abusing their abilities, used to limit or cut off their powers. It will not hurt them, but prevent them from using their magical powers for a short period of time.

The Hanged Man Binding Spell - This spell is not to be done and or taken lightly. It is to be used when all other protection spells do not seem to be working and you are afraid for your life or the lives of others. This is also used for other witches that you feel may harm you.

The Kraken’s Tentacles, Binding Spell

The Swamp: Binding & Curse

To Bind Their Words - A poppet spell against yelling. For when you deal with rude customers.

Ways to Cast Binding Spells - There are many ways to bind. Each has its own subtle differences.

You Cannot Touch Her Curse/Binding - This curse is particularly for people who have done harm in the past, and as such already known to be a potential threat. The idea is to keep the person from speaking to or approaching the one you’re trying to protect, and to make them feel watched and judged for their past actions.

Curses

I had to break up the Curses Masterpost because there were too many links and they were making this post all wonky.

Curses Masterpost

Popular Culture Curses Masterpost

Hexes

Ants Nest Hex - This is an old spell my Nan used to hex people on a regular basis. This spell is to cause financial discord and an unsettled house. Again please thnk through how this hex will effect the household, are you sure they deserve it?

A Condom/Hex Curse for Sexual Harrassment

Catcall Hex Stone - This is not in itself a protection amulet, though it could be formulated to include the facility. As is, it is just to punish any transgressors – best when paired with an autonomous protection amulet.

Darkness Hex - Do not use this spell unless your intention is to cause complete havoc. There is no reversing the spell, so make sure that this is a last resort, and you will not regret doing it later.

Hazy Smog Hex - This is a hex to wear a person down and make them fatigued and tired. The hex will weigh the person down more and more every time they do something negative towards you (or others).

Hear Not, See Not, Speak Not. - This is a hex that can be used for that exceedingly intrusive colleague, “friend,” or even family member who cannot seem to comprehend boundaries. As the name suggest, this hex prevents the victim from overstepping their bounds by rendering your presence (or rather, their perceptions) hidden.

Hex Ball

Hexing in a Pinch - Sometimes it seems like people are at their nastiest when sitting down for a meal at a restaurant. If you’ve ever seen someone being awful while out and thought “I wish I had some hexing magic on me right now,” here’s a quick spell for you.

“Lorem Ipsum” Hex - Essentially it works by causing messing up the targets ability to communicate accurately.

Revenge on Cheaters Hex

Shut Your Mouth Hex - Meant To Silence People Who Spew Hated and Slander.

The Siren's "Learn Your Lesson" Hex - This is a hex that will cause your target to learn their lesson and make their blunders come to light, whether it be fucking with you, a loved one, a friend, whatever. This hex will make them learn.

Walk a Mile Hex - “… meant not to damn (for the sole purpose of damnation), but to enlighten through disciplinary action. To force someone to see through the eyes of another, for the oppressor to feel his/her own oppression – to walk a mile in another person’s shoes…” Three variations.

Year Long Hex

Jinxes

Misc

Simple Shut Up Powder - This powder is used to forcibly shut the mouth and stop gossip and slander originating from a foe. Not something you want to use on someone you consider to be a friend who just speaks out of turn every once in a while. Use in cases where the gossip is damaging to you and or others.

Banishing Jar Spell - Let someone be annoying or difficult in their own world, and stay away from you.

Banishing Powders - Basic Banishing Powder and Begone Banishing Powder

Bitch Be Gone Powder - Sprinkle around doors and windows to banish unwanted energy and to prevent the entrance of these energies in the future.

Fighting Powder - Sprinkle this magical powder around those you wish to ignite bickering and arguments.

Witch Tips

Casting a curse? Perform a cleanse in the space afterwards so that the negative residue from the spell doesn’t hang around and cause hindrances in your own life.

[tsukifairy]

Long Island Divorce Attorneys

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