#because it’s scary to put yourself out there

[headspace-hotel]

I've been reading some more of the works of eugenicists while thinking about the state of education about this ideology. Yes, "Eugenics" is a dirty word nowadays; in my opinion, it's not nearly dirty enough.

Here's a fact to make your head spin: Eugenics wasn't about killing people. Yes, it ended up killing people, and if you examine the way eugenics has influenced the world, you realize it still does kill people, but the architects of eugenics weren't leading with, "My fellow countrymen, we should On Purpose Kill People."

The reason that's important is, people keep coming up with ideas labeled (by their critics) "uncomfortably similar to eugenics"--- ideas for a compassionate, scientifically-grounded way of improving humanity by understanding the heredity of good and bad traits and influencing the fertility rates of people with different genetic traits.

There is already a word for this kind of idea. That word is: eugenics. It is silly to set yourself apart from eugenicists by explicitly repudiating killing people or forcibly sterilizing them, when many founding eugenicists also explicitly repudiated killing people or forcibly sterilizing them.

Here is an Internet Archive link to "Heredity in relation to eugenics," a work by Charles Benedict Davenport, an early eugenicist. Please read at least the first four pages.

I'm afraid that his brief introduction to eugenics could sound, to the layperson, surprisingly less scary and disgusting than expected. Mister Davenport's word choices may provide a "red flag" to the reader: he refers to human babies as a "valuable crop," to marriage between people as "mating." The disquiet these word choices cause is because they dehumanize the subjects. Humans, from Davenport's perspective, are essentially the same as agricultural plants or animals, which in turn are assets, sources of economic gain---they are things.

Davenport articulates the contribution of a human being to the United States: "...forming a united, altruistic, God-serving, law-abiding, effective and productive nation." However, relatively few people are "fully effective" at this purpose, because a proportion of society is "non-productive"---either criminals or disabled, or among the people required to care for and control criminals and the disabled.

After you read the introduction of Davenport's book, read his wikipedia page. He was a Nazi. He was a Nazi until the day he died. He was rabidly and repugnantly racist, so much so that his later scientific works fudged together garbage conclusions that contradicted his actual data in order to prop up his racist beliefs. He lobbied Congress to restrict immigration into the USA, out of the belief that the immigrants would poison the blood of our country with inferior genetics.

Overwhelmingly, eugenicists were concerned with disability. They believed that disability would normally be eliminated by natural selection, and that caring for the disabled and allowing them to grow up and to have children would cause a steady increase in the proportion of society made up of disabled people---who were, as Davenport puts it, a "burden" on society.

Eugenicists were also concerned with race. They wanted to gather data that demonstrated what they already believed: that race was a biological reality, a reality that could only appear unclear or malleable because of harmful, aberrant, unnatural scenarios, namely miscegenation or race mixing. Basically, race was both a natural reality, and in need of enforcement.

But eugenicist ideology was not just about the inferiority of disabled people or people of color. Eugenicists thought of their ideas as a science and thought of themselves as scientists, and they broadly addressed virtually everything we would now consider a matter of "public health." Eugenicist writings almost universally address crime, and often don't recognize a clear distinction between crime and mental disability, or between either of those things and poverty. Criminals, disabled people and poor people were basically the same; they had something wrong with their genes that made them that way.

"Sexual deviance" is generally included in this, and Davenport explicitly references this in his introduction, where he says that "normal" people are not likely to have the kind of sex that leads to the transmission of STIs.

For many proponents (including Davenport), the key dogma of eugenics was that genes predetermined everything about a person. Tuberculosis was a huge problem at the time, and eugenicists were insisting that, although the disease was known to be bacterial, susceptibility to the disease was genetic, and therefore people who became sick with tuberculosis were genetically defective. Likewise if a child developed epilepsy after a head injury, the injury did not cause the epilepsy but instead revealed an inherent genetic weakness that was already there. This implied that spending resources on healing or rehabilitating anybody was a waste of time.

If you read more of Davenport's book, you will see that he makes some WILD statements---he asserts that artistic talent is a Mendelian trait controlled by a single gene, basically that you are either born an artist or you aren't. This seems absolutely absurd but, there is a good amount of popular belief in inherent aptitudes for art or music or math or what have you.

Eugenics isn't just about named prejudices like racism or ableism, it is even bigger than that, it is a set of beliefs encompassing how the potential and value of human beings is determined and how society should care for its members as a result of that.

[rebellum]

Keep your meds that you take as-needed next to where you spend most of your time. Mine are in a drawer right next to my computer.

You're not supposed to store meds in the bathroom because it gets hot and humid in their during showers

If you only occasionally use a cane, get a fold-up one and always carry it in your backpack. You can take it out on public transit, even if you have a seat, so that people don't judge you for sitting down. This is especially important if you're someone socially perceived as a young man.

There's no shame in "giving in" to your illness. Do what you need to do. Eg if you're having intrusive thoughts about a certain object, you don't have to force yourself to practice resisting it or practice moving on from those intrusive thoughts. It's okay to just put it in the other room so that you don't think about it. You dont need to constantly practice resistance, you need to practice active compassion towards yourself.

You can fill a pill bottle with various OTC pills are carry that around in your bag. Like I have a mixed-pill bottle that has advil, naproxen, and Tylenol in it, rather than bottles of those all separately.

This is just general life advice: it's good to buy things that will make everyday life more enjoyable. I know this sounds like "well, DUH" but guys I got a mechanical keyboard for Christmas and it makes me SO happy to use my keyboard. Invest in making your daily tools constantly enjoyable and pretty. Things can be better than 'good enough'

You don't need to be someone else's inspiration. You dont need to be the one pushing societal boundaries. It's okay to do what you want or to hide your illness if that's what makes you feel the most safe and comfortable. [Relevance: I'm a trans POC with mental health issues. I am in a position where I could help to normalise 'weirdness' like stimming, counting out loud, and being open about intrusive thoughts and hallucinations. It would be good to do that, because I'm a fashionable young middle class feminine person, so it would help to remove the association of those behaviours with drug users and unhoused individuals. If those behaviours are more normalized it also helps those people, since they are then seen as doing fewer 'bad' things. But it's scary! I'm an openly trans poc! If i get mistaken for being high I could have to deal with police. I'm not in America, I'm not in as much danger as Black Americans are, but I'm still at a much increased risk of arrest and violence. It's okay if I want to keep my mental health issues and neurodivergence on the down-low and not be some sort of activist.]

I've been disabled for almost 29 years. Here's what I've learned.

Tablets sink and capsules float. Separate out your tablets and capsules when you go to take them. Tip your head down when taking capsules and up when taking tablets. Liquigels don't matter, they kinda stay in the middle of whatever liquid is in your mouth.

If your pill tastes bad, coat it with a bit of butter or margarine. I learned this from my mom, who learned it from a pharmacist.

Being in pain every day isn't normal. Average people experience pain during exceptional moments, like when they stub their toe or jam their finger in a door, not when they sit cross-legged.

Make a medical binder. Make multiple medical binders. I have a small one that comes with me to appointments and two big ones that stay at home, one with old stuff and one with more recent stuff.

Find your icons. Some of mine include Daya Betty (drag queen with diabetes), Stef Sanjati (influencer with Waardenburg syndrome and ADHD), and Hank Green (guy with ulcerative colitis who... does a bunch of stuff). They don't have to be disabled in the same way as you. They don't even have to be real people. Put their pictures up somewhere if you want; I've been meaning to decorate my medical binders with pictures of my icons.

Take a bin, box, bag, basket, whatever and fill it with items to cope with. This can be stuff for mentally coping like colouring books or play clay or stuff for physically coping like pain medicine or physio tape.

Decorate your shit! My cane for at home has a plushie backpack clip hanging from the end of the handle and my cane for going places is covered in stickers. All of my medical binders have fun scrapbooking paper on the outside. Sometimes, I put stickers and washi tape on my inhalers and pill bottles. I used my Cricut to decorate my coping bin with quotes from my icons, like "I've seen enough of Ba Sing Se" and "I need you to be angrier with that bell".

If a flare-up is making you unable to eat or keep food down, consider going to the ER. A pharmacist once told me that since my eye flares can make me so nauseous that I cannot eat, then I need to go to the hospital when that happens.

Cola works wonders for nausea. I have mini cans of Diet Pepsi in my coping bin.

Shortbread is one of the only things I can eat when nauseous. Giant Tiger sells individually-wrapped servings of shortbread around Christmas or the British import store sells them year-round. I also keep these in my coping bin.

Unless it violates a pain contract or something, don't be afraid to go behind your doctor's back to get something they are refusing you. I got my cardiologist referral by getting in with a different NP at my primary care clinic than who I usually saw. I switched from Seroquel to Abilify by visiting a walk-in.

If you have a condition affecting your abdomen in some way (GI issues, reproductive problems, y'know) then invest in track pants that are too big. I bought some for my laparoscopy over a year ago and they've been handy for pelvic pain days, too. I've also heard loose pants are good for after colonoscopies.

Do whatever works, even if it's weird. I've sat on the floor of the Eaton Centre to take my pills. I've shoved heating pads down my front waistband to reach my uterus.

High-top Converse are good for weak ankles. I almost exclusively wear them.

You can reuse your pill bottles for stuff. I use my jumbo ones to store makeup sponges and my long skinny ones to hold a travel-size amount of Q-Tips.

Just because your diagnostics come back with nothing, it doesn't mean nothing is wrong. Maybe you were checking the wrong thing, or the diagnostic tool wasn't sensitive enough. I have bradycardia episodes even though multiple cardiac tests caught nothing. I probably have endometriosis even though my gynecologist didn't see anything.

You can bring your comfort item to appointments, and it's generally a green flag when someone talks to you about it. I brought a Squishmallow turkey (named Ulana) to my laparoscopy and they had her wearing my mask when I woke up. I brought a Build-A-Bear cat (named Blinx) to another procedure and a nurse told me that everyone in the hall on the way to the procedure room saw him and were talking about how cute he was. Both of those ended up being positive experiences and every person who talked to me about my plushies was nice to me. If you don't feel comfortable having it visible to your provider during the appointment, you can hide it in your bag and just know it's there, or if you're in a video appointment, you can hold it below frame in your lap.

Get a small bucket, fill it with stuff, and stick it in your bed (if you have room for it). I filled a bucket with Ensure, juice boxes, oatmeal bars, lotion, my rescue inhaler, etc. in October 2023 in anticipation of my laparoscopy and I still have it in my bed as of January 2025.

If your disability impacts your impulse control (e.g. ADHD, bipolar disorder), you should consider setting limits around your spending -- no more than X dollars at a time, nothing online unless it's absolutely necessary, and so on. Or, run these purchases by someone you trust before committing to them; I use my BFF groupchat to help talk sense into myself when I buy stuff.

Feel free to add on what you've learned about disability!

[jjaehyunnxie]

drabble gf!reader x bf!jaemin, where reader is on her period

! MDNI, period sex, mentions of: throwing up, blood, fainting.

Jaemin who nods in an understanding way with a soft smile whenever you crash out and end up yelling at him due to your drastic mood swings. He understands you don't feel well, and tries to find all means possible to make you feel as heard and validated as possible. But also he just finds your angry side adorable.

Jaemin who buys you heat pads because he knows that above all the pills you take, heat pads are still the cure to your unbearable cramps.

Jaemin who tries his best to stay beside you whenever you're not feeling well. Giving head pats, holding you in his arms and rubbing his thumb gently on your shoulder, whispering sweet praises and soft words, or even playing your favorite song on the speakers.

Jaemin who's always by your side when your cramps get so bad you have to throw up. He holds your hair up as you puke in the toilet, completely spent and exhausted. "There we go. Let it all out, princess. You're doing great." Then, he'd help you gargle water while also wiping your tears and comforting you with hugs. "I know, I know. It's scary. But you did so well."

Jaemin who loves coming home from work to see you cuddled up, asleep, in bed with his cats. Something about seeing you so peaceful, arms carefully wrapped around Luna, the others curled up elsewhere near you, fills his heart with adoration. He's quick to shower and get in bed with you.

Jaemin who prepares all of your favorite meals when you're too weak to do anything. He'd look up recommended meals for that time of the month and make them all for you.

Jaemin who got so worried the first time you fainted due to rapid loss of blood. When he heard the sudden thud from the bathroom, he rushed over, knocking with pure fear in his voice. When you didn't answer, he opened the door with a warning only to find you on the floor. You woke up quickly once he shook you back to life, his eyes widened with worry. "Oh gosh, thank god, you're okay..." he'd sigh heavily before giving you a cup of water and insisting you stay in bed the whole day.

Jaemin who now knows you sometimes have a tendency to not let yourself rest and you always want to prioritise your work over your health so he takes matters into his own hands, calling your boss and explaining to him that you need to take a few days rest. Although you complain whenever he does this, you end up thanking him because, really, you were too weak to do any work.

Jaemin who's always ready to assure you about how beautiful you are whenever your period gives you body dysmorphia. "Look in the mirror for me" he'd say with a soft yet firm voice, making you face your full-body mirror while he stays behind, holding your waist gently. "You're so beautiful, princess. I fall in love with you every time I see this gorgeous body of yours." he'd whisper in your ear while tracing your curves before giving your cheek a loving kiss.

Jaemin who never has to ask you for which size pads, or what specific pills you need, or what snacks you're craving, because he just knows you that well.

Jaemin who has an app installed on his phone to track your period so he's always ready for any phase you might be in; be it your moody period or your overly horny ovulation week.

Jaemin who's ready to do anything you want him to do whenever you're on your period. Be it make you meals, change your clothes, shower you, praise you, give you kisses, and even sing you songs. You often find yourself with your head on his chest as he sings you songs to put you to sleep.

Jaemin who absolutely loves period sex. He just loves showing you how much adoration he has for you, even in this state where you feel the most disgusting. He'd prep the sheets with a cloth so no blood stains your bed before giving you the most gentle and passionate love-making session ever. Thrusting in you at a calm pace, absolutely no intention of rushing anything. Stripping your clothes while pressing kisses on every inch of your body, worshipping and cherishing it. "You're so beautiful. I love you...fuck, I love you so much, princess." he'd say between grunts. Just as he's about to cum, he quickly pulls out, releasing on your stomach as he continues to thrust his fingers in you, pushing you to your orgasm as well.

Jaemin who always excels in aftercare. He never leaves you hanging after sex, no matter how tired he might be. Whether its by carrying you to the tub to give you a warm shower, or by wiping you down with a wet cloth, he always makes sure to leave you sparkly clean and smelling like red roses.

Jaemin who adores how high your sex drive is after your period. How you always wake him up by grinding your hips on him, or how you never forget to give him a certain look only he knows. He enjoys seeing you so needy for him and is always ready and excited to give you exactly what you want.

[idciminlove]

FIGHTER.

Part Four - Blue

Kang Dae Ho x f!reader

Cinnamonacid on AO3

Warnings - fights, blood, anxiety, anger issues, angst, slight daddy issues, scary men, etc.

During the vote, things take a turn for the worst.

You did as told. Clicked the red “x” button to leave, and went over onto your side, watching anxiously as the other players casted their votes. Everything stopped once player 230 voted, with 456 speaking out once again. You stood behind him, watching as the other players pressed him for information asking, How did he know about the first game? Was he a plant? Was he working for the other side?

It didn’t make sense. If he was, then why was he so desperately trying to warn you? Why was he trying to save you? Everyone was shouting and arguing, and then- he explained it.

He had done it all before. Played these games, won the money. He was the last one left, and all the other players died. 456 players, 456 people, and only one made it out. If you keep playing, you’re all going to die. You’re going to die. You don’t want to die.

Your chest felt tight. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Panic and dread made your stomach twist, your lungs constricting. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

And then player 230 stepped forward, out of the group of blue “o”s who wanted to stay. “If you’ve played these games, then you can give us some tips, and help us all win.”

“He’s won this. We can all win. Let’s make some money!” Player 100, the old insolent man added, the one who had been shouting at 456 this whole time.

They were cheering now. Cheering for another game. Make some money. As if they aren’t making money off of other people’s deaths. As if other people wouldn’t have to die for them to make this money. Player 230 was cheering. He was smiling, and he still had blood on his face. Blood from the innocent people he killed. Blood from that man you knew. The man who believed in you.

You clenched your fists and gritted your teeth. Breathe. Just Breathe.

You tried to hold back, tried to calm yourself. But you couldn’t. The fuse was lit, and you exploded.

“Are you fucking stupid?” You snapped, stepping in front of 456, face to face with 230. “Do you think this is a joke? You’re making money off of other people’s deaths. You’re killing each other. You want to listen to him? He shoved people during the game. Innocent people that had families, wives and children. He killed them and for what? Because he thought it was a joke? Thought it was funny to push people around?”

You started to shove him. “You want to push people around asshole? You think it’s fun? I’ll show you fun.”

He smirked at you. You saw red. You slapped him. Slapped him so hard that he stumbled backward slightly, his cheek imprinted into a bright red shape of your hand. The other players gasped in surprise. You went to hit him again, but another player, his friend, 124, grabbed your arm, trying to intervene. “Alright, easy now-”

“Don’t touch me!” Your instincts kicked in, and you drove your elbow right into his face. He doubled over and grabbed his nose, watching the blood drip onto his hand. He snapped.

“You psycho bitch, I’ll fucking kill you!” The players on your side rushed to your aide, one of the men holding him back.

“I’d like to see you try!” Someone held you back, and you fought against them, eager to get more hits on 124, ready to fight. Ready to hurt someone, and make them feel the pain you had been put through, that that innocent man had been put through. The guards intervened, pointing their guns at you and 124.

The man who stood held you back stood in front of you now, holding you by the shoulders, looking you in the eye. You recognized him as player 456. “Calm down. I know you’re frustrated, I am too, but this isn’t something worth dying over.”

You gazed past him, at the guards pointing the guns at you. You glowered at them, before looking back at 456. You could see the sadness in his eyes. The loss. The look of a broken man. One you knew too well.

You took a deep breath. The fire inside you dimmed down to a dull roar. You shrugged his hands off your shoulders, stepping back into the crowd. The guards lowered their guns.

“Starting now, any further actions that interfere with the voting process will not be allowed.”

–

O - 183

X - 182

You had no other choice. You had to stay here and play another game. Where you could get killed. Where you probably would get killed. You walked back to your bunk, feeling the devastation, fear, and anxiety run through you.

You heard your name being called. You turned back, seeing Dae-Ho, the blue “o” patch clear on his chest. As if things couldn’t get any worse. Betrayal and anger bubbled in your stomach.

“I saw what happened, and I wanted to-”

“Are you serious? You voted to stay? After what we just went through?” You didn’t even let him finish his sentence.

“I just thought we made a good team and-”

“And what? You think we’d win the games together? You heard what 456 said. We’re all going to die here. We don’t even know each other. We’re not a team. We’re not friends. We’re not anything. So if you want to stay and get killed, that’s fine by me. Just leave me out of it.”

You could see the hurt on his face from your words. You didn’t mean them. You really didn’t. You were just…scared. You wanted to survive this place. The last thing you needed was to depend on someone else surviving too.

“Okay…Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” You turned away, unable to watch him walk off. It was for the best. You don’t need anyone now. You just need to live and get the money for your mom.

–

Thanos’ cheek was still throbbing from your slap, and he could feel a slight bruise starting to form as he ran his fingers over it. For such a pretty little thing, you sure packed one hell of a punch. He gazed at you from across the dormitory, eyeing you, watching you unzip your jacket and place it on the edge of your bed, his eyes roaming over the curve of your body, admiring how the sweats hugged your ass. He played with the cross around his neck, smirking to himself.

Nam-gyu stood in front of him, leaning against the bedpost and blocking his view. “You doing alright man?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? I know that bitch hit me pretty hard. Damn near broke my nose.” Thanos hardly listened to him, gazing over his shoulder to look at you.

Nam-Gyu followed his gaze, looking over at you, before looking back at him, smirking. “You wanna do something to her? Hurt her for hurting us?”

Thanos gazed at you, before gazing back at him, bobbing his head along to an invisible rhythm. “Nah, man. We’ll get her later. The hottest chicks are always the feistiest.”

Nam-Gyu grinned. “So, what do you have in mind?”

[wrttenbyhan]

big argument

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

upset!fem reader x husband!han jisung

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

sorry guys for not posting for ages, but i’m back! sorry if this flopped, this isn't my best piece, i will get back to this and edit it if it has any mistakes!

“why would you say that?”

han bristled at your question, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"because it’s true! you never listen to me, you always do what you want, and you never consider my feelings or opinions!"

his voice rose in volume as he spoke, his frustration now palpable. you protested that you did care, but he just rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief.

“no, you don’t. every time we have an argument, it’s always about what you want. it’s always your way or the highway.”

he retorted, his tone becoming more heated.

“why do you think i married you then?”

you snapped back, shoving your left hand in his face so he could see your ring. you pull your hand back as he scoffed, his expression hardening further.

“don’t pull that card. just because you married me doesn't mean you suddenly care about my feelings or my opinions.”

“i’ve always cared. we both know that.”

han let out a huff, his expression still tense.

“really? then why does it always feel like you completely disregard my feelings and opinions whenever we have an argument?”

his eyes locked onto yours, his expression challenging. you screamed back that han always causes the arguments, and they’re always his fault and he clenched his jaw, his frustration reaching new heights.

“my fault?! how is it always my fault? i’m not the one who's constantly disregarding the other’s feelings and opinions!”

you retort,

“you always start the arguments!”

he shook his head, his expression disbelieving.

“i start the argument? don’t put all the blame on me! it takes two to argue, and you’re definitely not innocent in all this.”

“i didn’t start this. you did. i asked you to stop teasing me but you kept winding me up.”

he let out an exasperated sigh, his patience thinning.

“and why do you think i start these ‘fights’? it’s because you frustrate me, you never listen to me, and you always act like you know best!”

you explain to him how you just wanted him to stop teasing you earlier, but han? he rolled his eyes yet again, his annoyance mounting. you were basically ready to see steam coming out of his ears at any moment. it was almost scary how a cute and sweet boy could be like this.

“you’re being petty. it’s just playful banter, harmless teasing. i was just trying to lighten the mood, but you always have to overreact.”

you kept arguing back,

“when someone says stop, you stop, han.”

han bristled at your words, his expression hardening.

"oh, so now i’m supposed to just stop everything i’m doing just because you say so? don’t you think that’s a little controlling?"

“no, it’s called consent and boundaries.”

he scoffed at the mention of “consent and boundaries”.

“oh, please. this isn’t about consent and boundaries. it’s about you wanting me to walk on eggshells around you, always tiptoeing around your fragile feelings.”

you started to feel tears prickle your eyes, and before you know it, teardrops are tumbling down your cheeks like a waterfall. han’s expression softens as your tears start flowing, his anger slightly abating.

"hey... don't cry. i didn't mean to upset you.."

he tries to reach out, wanting to wipe your tears away, but you snatch your hand back, losing yourself in the moment. you shout,

“no! you always mean it. you never think before you speak, do you?”

his expression becomes more troubled, a mix of guilt and frustration flickering across his face.

“no, no. i don’t always mean it. i just... i don’t know, it’s just harmless jokes. i don’t mean to hurt your feelings i just....”

he trailed off, his eyes meeting yours, the sight of your tears causing him to waver in his conviction.

but you were already leaving. you ran out of the house, and hid in a bus stop nearby. it was raining, but you didn't care, neither did you care about being in your pajamas right now.

after a few minutes, you see your husband rushing towards you with a stressed and almost scared expression on his face. when he sees you cuddling yourself and tears in your eyes, han’s expression softened, and he let out a sigh. he looked at you with concern, his eyes tracing the tear stains on your cheeks.

raindrops clung to his long, dark eyelashes, and his hair was stuck to his forehead, giving him a disheveled appearance. his clothes were wet, and the rain had made them cling to his body, emphasizing his muscular physique.

he was still angry, but as he watched you cry, his anger melted away, replaced with worry. his grip on your arm loosened, and he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

his expression softened even more, and he moved closer to you, his hand still on your cheek. he studied your face, taking in the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“please stop crying,”

he whispered, his voice much gentler than before. his eyes searched your face, his expression a mix of concern and regret.

he hated seeing you cry, and it was clear that he was blaming himself for the argument.

the walk back home was filled with an uncomfortable silence. han kept a tight grip on your arm, guiding you through the rain.

his wet clothes stuck to his body, and his hair was still damp, hanging in his face. he didn't speak, his expression still brooding, but it was clear that his worry for you was overruling his anger.

once you arrived home, he ushered you inside, closing the door behind him. the rain continued to fall outside, the sound of it pounding against the windows.

after changing into warmer clothes, you sat down on the bed, and han took a seat next to you, his expression still tense.

there was a moment of silence between you, both of you unsure of who should speak first. he fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt, his eyes avoiding your gaze.

finally, he let out a sigh, his shoulders drooping.

“we need to talk about what happened,”

he said quietly, his voice was serious. he knew he messed up, and it was evident in the way he couldn't meet your eyes. he had been the one to start the argument, and he knew it.

han ran a hand through his damp hair, his expression showing a hint of guilt.

“look, i know i was out of line, okay?”

he said, his voice a bit gruff.

“i shouldn't have snapped at you like that, and i’m sorry.”

he noticed your nod, and a sense of relief washed over him. he was glad that you had acknowledged his apology, even if you still seemed upset.

han leaned back on his hands, his gaze roaming over your face. he could tell that you were still hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to make things right. he took a deep breath and continued, his voice quieter now.

“i lost my temper, and i said some things i didn’t mean. i know i overreacted, and i’m sorry for that.”

“it’s okay, honey.”

han let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. a small hint of a smile appeared on his face at your words.

“are you sure?”

he asked, his tone hopeful. he reached out, taking your hand in his, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand.

he looked into your eyes, searching for any trace of anger or resentment, but all he saw was a glimmer of forgiveness.

“yeah, i’m super sure.”

His smile widened, his shoulders visibly relaxing. He scooted closer to you, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. He let out a soft sigh, his fingers drawing small patterns on your hip.

“thank you for forgiving me,”

he whispered, his voice soft and sincere. he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

he wrapped his arms around you, returning the hug tightly. he burrowed his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of you.

han held you close, his arms like a comforting vice around your body. he could feel the tension ebbing away from both of you, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity.

he pressed a soft kiss on your temple, his lips lingering there, as if he was savoring the feeling of having you in his arms again.

“i love you so much, hannie.”

he chuckled softly at your words, feeling a wave of affection wash over him.

“hannie, seriously?”

he said, his voice playful. he pulled back from the hug a bit, tilting his head as he looked at you with a mixture of amusement and affection.

“and here i thought you couldn't get any cuter.”

he took your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek. his expression softened, and there was a hint of adoration in his eyes.

“i love you more, my cupcake.”

[sunnyuto]

Some tips we were given at work by an immigrant rights organization:

- Ask to see a JUDICIAL warrant. This is a warrant actually signed by a judge that has jurisdiction over your locale, NOT an administrative warrant signed by some middle manager at Homeland Security. ICE will try and pass administrative warrants off as judicial because they are banking on people not knowing the difference. Only a judicial warrant grants them the authority to conduct a search. They cannot enter private property without one.

— Businesses can sometimes fall into a gray area of public vs private property - if your doors are open and anyone can walk in, ICE can come inside even without a warrant, although they still cannot conduct a search. If your workplace is able to, keep your doors closed (and ideally locked) and make it clear that the premises are private property, not open to the public, and only available to clients on appointment (even if this is not strictly true).

- ICE can only legally detain people if they have evidence or probable cause of them having committed a crime. However, right now, this can be as little as having their full name or seeing foreign identification. It is better to carry no ID than foreign ID right now. Most states don’t require you to be able to immediately produce it anyway, and cops can’t force you to show ID if you’re not being detained.

- Keep in mind that being in the country “illegally” is NOT a criminal offense, it is a civil violation. No one is being inherently criminal by being here without the correct paperwork. That being said, the Trump administration and ICE are treating it as a criminal violation. This is not the time to be doing anything except following the letter of the law. Some of the biggest risks are moving violations - don’t do anything that might get you pulled over.

- Don’t say shit. If you are stopped by ICE, don’t say anything to them with the exception of the following four things:

— “Do you have a judicial warrant?”

— “Am I being detained?”

— “I am invoking my right to remain silent.”

— “I am invoking my right to an attorney.”

- EVERYONE in the United States is protected by the Constitution and is entitled to both its enumerated rights and the Miranda rights. Undocumented immigrants are still 100% entitled to an attorney, including a public defender. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, they’re lying to you.

- If you are not being detained, leave but DO NOT RUN. Running is all the evidence they need to arrest you. It’s going to be scary, but you HAVE to stay calm and WALK away. You do not need to wait for them to dismiss you to leave unless they are actively engaged with you. If you see them talking to someone down the street, you can turn and walk away then, you don’t need to (and shouldn’t) wait for them to get to you. They cannot force you to stay in a place if they aren’t detaining you and don’t have a warrant.

- FOR US WHITE PEOPLE, it is insanely important that we follow these same rules even though we are not the targets of these raids. Don’t do anything to put vulnerable folks in danger. Don’t speak to them more than necessary. Don’t give them any information, even about yourself. Be compliant but not cooperative. Do. Not. Help. Them. Keep them occupied so the people they’re targeting can leave out the back. It is vital that we make it clear where we stand and if need be, weaponize our privilege and our white bodies to protect our immigrant friends.

And really truly internalize this stuff, because you will need it. We were having a fully theoretical conversation about protocol yesterday morning and within five hours, ICE was in town and that theoretical discussion became full reality.

Here's what we know about the deportations.

What to look out for, what to know, and what to do

When I say ICE, I also mean anyone else who could possibly be working with them

Know

- if you are poc at all or even poc presenting, they will come after you as well. It's not only immigrants they are targeting

- they are starting this targeting schools and churches

- Sanctuary states are stepping in to protect their citizens, states that aren't (like Texas) is purposely turning a blind eye and will not help you, please check if you're in a safe state

- teachers are actively stepping in to protect their students

- classrooms and houses count as dwellings, people cannot come in dwellings by force (unless they have a warrant)

- if people mention "winter boots" they mean agents.

Look out

- ICE is in van's, those vans are unmarked and will not be obviously ICE workers

- if you go to school, ICE is (trying) to use social workers and CPS to take away kids, if they come in, watch who they are looking for. (For right now, CPS and social workers are refusing to work with ICE, but I would still be cautious)

- if you have a noticeable poc population wherever you go and live, watch it. Watch if people suddenly go missing or for whatever reason isn't seen for a day or 2

- Look on any form of media for reports of agents

These are the warrants you should be looking for

To do

- Do NOT open the door if ICE or those suspected of working for them come to a dwelling, they will force their way in once you do that. Keep the door closed.

- Do NOT run if you think you see them, running will make them think you are guilty and they will go after you.

- Treat them like cops, because they are. Like cops, you have to be extremely calm and collected with them because cops will use whatever reason they see fit to harm you. Do not yell, touch, raise your voice, and be extremely clear when you talk to them.

- ICE does not have you or anyone's best interest in heart, do NOT try to actually befriend them

- Walk in groups if you or someone you know is poc or an immigrant, it is harder to seclude and take someone if they aren't alone

- Get in touch with your community, it is harder to protect or be protected if you do not know who to be with

- you can legally and SHOULD record and take pictures of agents, once you do that, send those videos and pictures to anyone you know. If you post it to social media (which you should) put down the location they were seen.

It is INSANELY important that if you have any other tips or information that you put them down here.

Protect your fellow person, regardless of if you know or like them.

[spaceycat]

i fully sent this request to @l0relaii so check out their post!! but its just too good to not write about, i'm so sorry for the lack of posting !! <3

josh covering your mouth when fucking cuz he knows his family is right outside

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...

╰┈➤ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔 Pt. 1 /2𖤐.ᐟ

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: passenger princess (2:35) ✰ pairing: josh washington x fem!reader

✰ cw: swearing, kissing, porn w/ plot (in pt.2), hannah x sam is so real, they're canadian.. i forgot..

✰ word count: 0.8k+

✰ summary: josh, reader and josh's family were sitting for dinner, you needed josh right then and there and pulled him out halfway through dinner. read pt. 2

✰ a/n: sam x hannah exists here, the amount of canadian schools i had to look up was crazy... had to make this two parts because the fucking character limit hates me omg.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

༺colour chart༻ reader josh hannah mr washington mrs washington

Josh invited you down to his family's lodge up on the Blackwood Mountains, you weren't really expecting him to - considering you haven't met his parents yet, even if you've been dating for six months. You knew his sisters pretty well, you knew them before you even knew Josh which came as a shock when you found out your bestfriend Hannah was Josh's younger sister.

You and Josh arrived at the lodge pretty early in the morning, giving you time to investigate the place and settle in. The lodge was massive, to put it lightly that is. Your expedition was cut short, when Josh dragged you into a room. "Hey.." He'd run a hand through your hair, "You done exploring?" "No--" He cut you off when he moved towards to lock you into a kiss, you melted into it. That's when you pulled back, watching him chase your lips. "What are you doing?--" A whine left his lips, as you pulled back. "I'm having dinner with you and your family tonight for the first time, I highly doubt me being late will give off a good impression.." "I already told you, they don't give a shit - they'll love you.." "You can never be too cautious.." You'd place a short kiss to his lips to tide him over, before moving towards the door. "Hey--" He'd grab your hand, pulling you back towards him. "I love you.." "Love you too."

You were sitting in you and Josh's room. Sitting on the floor, facing the floor length mirror - curling your hair with an iron. Kind of nervous for the dinner, you knew Beth and Hannah would welcome you with open arms. But, Josh's parents seemed scary, I mean the man who made the horror movies you watched as a kid with your siblings will be sitting across from you and you have to act like you're not freaking out about it? That's when a knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. "Come in--" You'd call out, your gaze still focused on the mirror and your hair. Hannah opened the door walking in, "Hey--" You looked up at her through the mirror, "Hey.." You'd turn of the curling iron, placing it on the table next to you. "You nervous?" "Yeah, kinda.." "Sam was nervous too when she met them for the first time.." She'd move across the room to sit next to you. "Maybe I should've confided in her before this.." That made Hannah chuckle, her hands carding through the back of your hair - seperating the curls there. "You'll be okay, I know my parents will love you.." "I hope you're right.." She'd wrap her arms around you, pulling you close. "I always am.."

And that's how you found yourself, sitting beside Josh and facing his parents. To say you were nervous was an understatement. "So, Josh told us that you're studying law?" That broke you from your thoughts, as you felt Josh's hand move to your outer thigh, you looked over to him for a moment before looking back to his parents. Fiddling with the food on your plate with your fork, you spoke up again.. "Uh-- yeah, I'm studying my bachelor's degree in law and arts at UoA..." "University of Alberta?" "Mhm-" "I studied there for a semester before going to SAIT to study filmology and stem." "I was doing graphic and media arts, that's how we met--" You continued to speak to Josh's parents as you felt Josh's hand move to your inner thigh. Right now your thoughts were consumed by him, not really caring about his parents thoughts anymore. As their attention moved over to Hannah and Beth, you placed a hand overtop Josh's hand. That's when you announced, "Excuse me us for a moment-- I need Josh to show me where the bathrooms are.." "Oh-- okay.." His parents nodded, watching you practically drag their son out of the dining room. "Does she know she's going the wrong way?" "Just let them be--"

That's when you dragged Josh into one of the bathrooms you found on your previous investigation. "What's going on-- is everything okay?" "I just need you right now, Josh.." "O-Oh.. okay, yeah I can do that." He'd nod, letting you pull him into a kiss by his shirt. He placed his hands onto your hips, pushing you up against the door. His tongue licking against your bottom lip, a silent request. You opened your mouth, the kisses becoming open mouthed and sloppy. That's when he hoisted you up, your legs instinctly wrapping around his waist. Feeling his bulge against your core, a moan being dragged from your lips. His hands pushed up your shirt, pulling back from the kiss - pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the bathroom. Expert hands unclasped your bra, he'd slowly drag it off you. Tossing it aside, joining your shirt on the floor.

[heavencasteel420]

I think one of the more subtle yet pervasive mischaracterizations of Nancy is when people write/interpret her as not having insecurities about love, romance, sex, or popularity. So often she’s only allowed to have angst about:

Barb;

Sexism;

Jonathan and/or Steve being disappointing as boyfriends; or

Being a lesbian (only when she’s being interpreted/written as a lesbian, obviously).

And there’s nothing wrong with any of that, but people do things like exaggerate her popularity or act like she never worries about whether her love interests are really into her. Or, more rarely, they villainize her at least a little bit for wanting to be popular and have sex in S1. And it’s like you guys are leaving so much good stuff on the table!!!

[wis-art]

Any asshole who is exploiting this person's bpd and OCD and feeding them attention for this kind of behavior, you're guilty too and i dont like you either, i would like to see how you'd react when youre put on a spot of having to calm down a suicidal 19 year old who is coming and telling me all about the abuse she survived with you, to only be met with all of you believing the crazy stalker. She was bleeding on her fucking bed complaining about being cold and in pain right after the attempt, and it was all your fault that you did that to her, it was all your fault when this happened to my boyfriend.

But whatever, your ass would probably take milion screenshots of her misery entirely caused by you. I don't know what happened that night and neither does the girl you accuse of rape, yet conveniently you remember everything, you had sex with a woman so intoxicated she cannot remember anything from that night, i cant say you wanted the Sex, I'm saying she couldnt have consented to that Sex in any reasonable manner. And when I asked you to fill me in what happened what did you do, take pictures of me and spin it to make me the evil one in this situation despite it was between you and your ex that she felt so cut off from everybody, that you abused so much she felt like nothing more than Sex object, that she felt like she provides you no happiness other than sexual gratification and she LOVED YOU.

I was not involved in your bad Sex drug induced experience and yet youre harassing me and stir up so much vendetta because i didnt let your ex simply bleed out and kill herself right in front of me. Go fuck yourself, youre not the perfectly innocent victim, and why are you asking me to convict your ex publicly, so you can harass her more? So your friends can guilt trip her into suicide even more? She's no danger to you anymore all she can do now is share her experience. I saw you deny her apology repeatedly because its not good enough not letting her apologize to you and relentlessly bully her publicly for this situation until all her friends turn away from her.

Leave me alone, i want nothing to do with you sawyer, youre scary and obsessive. You do nothing but harass people on the internet.

Why am i getting shit for taking care of a actively suicidal Trans girl who was accused by a serial abuser (who has abused my bf and their several exes) that they are a rapist and during a mental breakdown caused by the sheer stress and guilt caused by these accusations from a person who has done this exact accusation to many other Trans people and saying that i don't believe your accusations of this person being a rapist, you should have not lied about several people and you shouldnt have abused several mentally ill people and harass them into deleting their blogs.

Fuck you

I don't trust a single word a person who says something like this to a psychotic transgender woman.

[mishy-mashy]

Bruce is actually really attractive, and I have enough reasoning to make a list

He's:

Tall (. Tall enough to hit his head on the vault doorframe)

Long-legged

Has a straight nose bridge

Has high cheekbones (more noticeable in 2nd pic below)

Has a strong jawline

Sharp eyes, but they aren't small (plus eyebags if you're into that)

Overall, he has strong, attractive facial features

Has broad, refined shoulders. You can tell he works out (or he did, when he was alive)

Even has a thick, muscly neck

He has MUSCLE. Is SCULPTED. NOICE. VERY NOICE. (nice arms. Nice shoulders. Nice neck. Nice legs. Nice butt-)

(There are actually panels where you can see some of his muscles. Other than those already shown here, he's got bricky thighs-

-and in the panels where we first get his name dropped, he's got those shoulder blades too-)

The one time we see him smile, and he actually has a scary one

Has small, kinda sharp pupils, and his eyes remind me of a cat. We only ever saw him tense or defensive, so his resting/listening face is really cute

Other than the physical appearance stuff, he also:

Takes shit without batting an eye (patience, knowing it's just how Kudo is, etc)

Kudo being all "Cut the crap Bruce and give it to me straight", after Bruce tests his blood and is rightfully Concerned because they just faced AFO

Put up with Kudo's experimenting and testing over Yoichi's transferable Factor

Did ya'll see the look on Kudo's face when he realized he had Yoichi's Factor/will? Kudo was going to start in nonsense and Bruce just dealt with that.

Also something I noticed when looking back at the images here; Bruce has bandages on his arms in the void. But not when he faced AFO in the sewers.

Were he and Kudo cutting their arms open in their experimenting over Yoichi's theory? Is this why Kudo has two gauntlets instead of his one? Why we never see his bare arms in the void? That he always keeps his arms down so there's no slip?

Is smart enough to run blood tests, plus has enough common sense to pick Shinomori as his successor

He picked a guy who avoids society, has an Ability to detect danger so he can always stay away from AFO, is also a coward so he's never going to go throw himself into danger, even without knowing instinctively he stands no chance, etc.

Meanwhile, Kudo chose Bruce, who he played Hot Potato Yoichi with; but he did also trust Bruce, and put the only pure combative Ability in OFA through Bruce.

These two made their choices based on what they valued and saw the Factor needed.

Is logical, analytical, and calm.

He tried advising Midoriya on their Abilities in One For All, especially his own.

Midoriya then tried ignoring him about using Fa Jin for the first time, but found he was right, thinking: "Dammit!! I had [Lady Nagant] right where I wanted her, but... ugh! The Third was right. My parallel Quirk processes are all screwed up!" (ch. 314).

Plus, when Midoriya fixed his processing mistakes, Bruce was analyzing the way he reached his new conclusion. Pure facts, no bias, very calm, just saying it as it was.

We never see him panic. When he's caught by surprise in the sewers by AFO, Kudo, and Yoichi's little bubble event, he immediately reacts. He doesn't falter, he just knows he has to do something right now.

Was more willing to listen than Kudo to Yoichi's beckon, and probably was just following Kudo's rejection of Midoriya

While we don't see Kudo's face, we see Bruce's eyes when Yoichi calls on his heroes. Bruce was more open and receptive, or at least more impacted.

Bruce was also the one to start talking, while Kudo just kept quiet.

He actually communicates a lot

When Yoichi called them to support Midoriya, Bruce started talking to paint a picture of why they thought the way they did, so Yoichi understood where they were coming from.

(Though he seems to beat about the bush sometimes, since Kudo spoke up to be direct on how they couldn't just put their trust in some starry-eyed teenager. Plus, when Kudo tells him to just tell him what's wrong [double Factors])

When Midoriya first used Fa Jin against Nagant, Bruce came out just to tell him he knew what he was trying, but that Midoriya wasn't ready; and Midoriya found he was right. Midoriya just didn't want to listen to him then.

He asks Kudo for clarification after finding Kudo had two Factors in him after the sewer incident ("Just to be sure, All For One didn't touch you, right?") Kudo knew him well enough to go "stop beating around the bush and tell me", so Bruce was probably gonna start with questions, theories, and trying to understand everything in general, before saying "yeah you have two Factors. Don't know why".

Is strong-willed and loyal.

He followed Kudo, even to death, carrying on the cause he started until it ended with him.

Plus, when talking about how AFO needs a strong will to override OFA's own, we first see Bruce, Kudo, and Yoichi.

AFO couldn't steal OFA because the will was too strong for him, and that was back during Banjo's time. Since Shinomori never actually tried opposing AFO and just hid, we can assume the first Three (Yoichi, Kudo, Bruce) already had an accumulation of strong willpower that made OFA un-stealable. Those three are a strong enough foundation, and the main wills, that the other users just become bonuses.

Kudo, also saying that Midoriya needs allies with the same will and drive as him... hey Kudo, you're talking about yourself and your old allies, aren't you? That's why you look at Yoichi and Bruce when you say this.

Not only is Bruce attractive, but he's got good character. THE END.

[good-beanswrites]

john x fuuta ?👉👈 or 090309

I love the dynamic between them all, thank you for the request! I went with an earlier meeting for them (well, one of the first times Fuuta's aware of speaking with John, at least). As much as I joke about Fuuta being starstruck by his strength in the attack, I tried to take a more serious route for the "something to rely on" vibe.

John’s eyes flicked over Fuuta, sprawled out on his bedding and looking up expectantly.

“Man, you look like shit.”

Fuuta scowled deeper. “I asked for the reason you’re here in the middle of the fucking night, not your opinion.”

“That is the reason I came.”

Somehow, amid all the other things he had to worry about given the horror of the past few days and exile that followed, Mikoto had still found the time to lose sleep over Fuuta’s condition. John had always liked the guy, but he wasn’t in the business of watching over people he didn’t truly care about. He didn’t know what Mikoto saw in him to cause such an overreaction.

Though, with the futon dragged to the bars of the cell, and bathing him in the dim light of the guard’s tower, it was becoming clear that Mikoto’s concern was indeed warranted. Fuuta appeared deathly. The fresh injuries had been bandaged, but there were stains where blood was beginning to seep through. His eye – the one that had survived the ordeal – was bloodshot and rimmed with dark bags. His hair was as tangled as the rumpled hoodie it poked out of.

Fuuta was still staring in anticipation. It took John a moment to understand why. 

“You recognize me.”

“No shit. Mikoto came in here like a fumbling idiot earlier today. He wanted to make sure I was okay or whatever. Like I’d be okay after what happened!” He paused, a clanging from someone else’s cell briefly distracting him. “But you… the way you carry yourself… it’s different.”

“Not that different. I’m here for the same reason.”

The plan was simple. Once Fuuta slept, Mikoto would relax, and everyone would be happy. If it turned out to be his injuries keeping him awake, John didn’t mind crushing Fuuta’s pride and explaining his weakness to the doctor to get more painkillers. If it was noisy neighbors, he’d teach one of those girls a lesson the following day. If the problem was just plain insomnia, well, John’s swinging arm was still completely functional...

“I just want to make sure you’re sleeping.”

“Don’t tell me you’re as disgustingly sentimental as him.”

John’s expression twitched. He didn’t appreciate the condescension. That was Mikoto’s most admirable trait, after all – offering help to others even when he was falling apart himself. He was so selfless, so self-sacrificial. It was no wonder John felt compelled to do the same for him. But Fuuta…

“Ugh, he’s always trying to be buddy-buddy with everyone around here, it makes me sick. Nice words don’t do shit. Look where his friendship with Kotoko got him, eh? That’s what these fools still don’t understand – you need to face these things head-on.”

“Oi, don’t be hard on me just for caring.” He didn’t say it as any sort of gentle encouragement; it was a command, and Fuuta understood. He snapped his attention away from where he’d been peering around the bars. “The world needs more people with that kindness. That optimistic view of life, of others, no matter what – it’s why I’ll do everything I can to save me.”

Silence stretched after the intense comment. Fuuta was looking away again, and John couldn’t read him. When he did speak, his voice came out more defeated than expected.

“Tch. Well. Not all of us have that luxury.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

His eyebrows raised.

Cheeks reddening, Fuuta hurried to add, “I mean someone to have your back like that. I wish I could be half as relaxed as that, but I can’t afford to let my guard down. I need to be strong myself, I don’t have anyone else to take care of my problems for me.”

It hit him suddenly, that everything came down to that. Relief washed over him, now that a clear, easy, (and nonviolent) solution had presented itself.

“What if you did? I could take over your little sentry duty for the night.”

“W-what do you –?”

He gestured to where Fuuta was laying. “No need to play dumb. You’ve been keeping an eye on everything, even the other side of the guard’s tower. The sounds from around cell eight have caught your attention. You’re positioned so you can see cell six, but haven’t moved all the way over, because cell ten has easiest access from the right.”

“The others would say it’s pointless, or that they’re handling it. I’m not buying it, though. I don’t care if they say it’s crazy of me to do.”

“I think…” John’s posture softened. “I think it’s very selfless of you.”

He was constantly amazed at Fuuta’s tendency to react to everything as if it were some world-shattering statement just told to him.

“So?” He prodded before Fuuta’s expression could grow any more wide-eyed. “How about it?”

 “I mean… they told me about the attacks… what you did…”

John set his jaw. No matter how many times it had happened in the past few days, it still stung to see how quickly people turned against him because of the fight. He thought they all had come to terms with each other’s capabilities for violence, but as usual, the moment he showed his true face, the world turned against him.

Of course Fuuta could never relax knowing such a violent and unpredictable person was sitting right beside him through the night. It was a miracle he hadn’t panicked immediately at the sight of yet another cold, towering figure appearing at his door in the middle of the night.

John stretched his right arm across his chest. It looked like his original solution still stood. Fuuta said problems should be faced head-on. Surely he’d understand this was for his own good.

“…Yeah, okay.” Fuuta gave a decisive nod. He beckoned with a jerk of his head. “I trust you.”

“I –” John blinked. “What?”

“You understand me. You understand what it takes to be in a place like this.” His gaze flit away momentarily. “You’re incredibly strong. You’re prepared, and have good instincts, and your confidence is –" Noticing how intently John was listening, he interrupted himself to bark, “but don’t think I couldn’t handle this on my own! It’s only because you offered, and it’s a smart move. I’ll just sleep for a bit, we can take shifts. Wake me in three hours, okay?”

“Fine by me.” A little lying was definitely better than what else he’d had in mind.

Fuuta moved his futon over a few feet so John could settle into his carefully chosen spot on the ground. Everything was all set to begin keeping watch, until a new sound rose up to drown out the other noises in the panopticon – soft snoring from beside him.

He glanced over in disbelief at the instantaneous security Fuuta had sunk into. All the tension had melted away from his face and shoulders. He lay completely at peace.

John had achieved his goal. He should be celebrating. Instead, he couldn’t help heaving a heavy sigh.

How did he end up with two self-destructive idiots to watch over?

[leguin]

i did think about richard siken saying there's no such thing as unrequited love, just unrequited desire for probably longer than i should've, but idk. feelings are complicated. 'unrequited' is complicated. i've never felt so consistently failed by language before...

[vampmilf]

did i ever mention btw that this hotel didnt even have an allergy list for the sold food before i asked the boss for it and she was like "hm yeah ive never seen anything like that here, i dont know if we have one" like be so real with me right now. if i was a guest asking and got this answer i could get you shut down with two phone calls.

[starteas]

I’ve started to feel much more anxious regarding my internet presence as my audience grows and Lumi starts to develop further…

[allieinarden]

You know that problem horror fiction has where if you do the “the real horror is real life” well enough, when the actual horror pokes its head out it just seems really goofy by comparison? Like it’s so unrelatable it verges on comedy relief?

[angustully]

unfortunately it's 10pm and i'm awake so i do be thinking about how i will probably die alone bc nobody will ever like me back the way i like them... and the most pathetic part is this isn't even like im pining after someone in particular right now im just thinking about the magnolia "i really do have love to give i just don't know where to put it" scene and its just like UUGGGHHHHHHH i need to be euthanized. or kissed