#might delete this because i have a fear that any post of mine i don’t want them to see will end up in a fucking phan twitter vid

[tohruies]

cocobei! 🤗 i hope this doesn’t sound weird or creepy, but earlier when watching the scene where tohru laughed and teared up when kyo and yuki began arguing like usual made me think of that line from your karasu post (which is tabico coded to meee :D) : ‘you smile when you cry and you cry at everything’

which leads me to wonder about how would he react when you first tear up over your perfectly swetened morning tea or a delectable bite into a fruit … how precious he must find your ability to find beauty in everything! 🥺💞 hefjdksn okay i’m sorry for rambling in your inbox and probably not making sense TT i can’t help but keep thinking of you whenever tohru shows up on my screen haha 🥹🤗 please don’t feel obligated to answer and you’re welcome to delete this ask! mwah i love you 💗

cutie kai!!!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 hello! oh my gosh—i hope it’s okay for me to ask you about how you’re enjoying furuba so far!!! :D i saw you make a post about relating your past to arisa, she is truly so softhearted, and she does remind me of you in a lot of ways!! 💗 though i am especially excited for you to meet isuzu in season 2 hehe… i want to say more but i shall not spoil!!!!!! 🤫 i’m curious to know who your favourite character is :3 do you have any scenes you find especially memorable!! who’s your favourite zodiac member of those you have meet thus far!!!!!

i am so sorry LOL i am turning this into an interrogation!! 🙈 i’m just very curious and excited to see you talk about furuba hehe :3 no pressure to share your answers or anything of course!!!! but my curiosity is genuine, so i would love to talk about it if you feel like it too (*^▽^*)

🥺 i will talk about the tabico portion of this ask below the cut if that is okay!!!!

kai…!!!!!! ‘you smile when you cry and you cry at everything’—you made me cry with this ask for several reasons /pos!! 🥺🩷 aaaa, to be quite honest i think karasu might be very alarmed by seeing my sudden tears AOKWEHK it’s very likely that he would think to himself that he did something wrong 🥺 having to tell him that i’m only crying over something as silly as a bite of food sounds very embarrassing to me ajddkddj but i would tell him anyway and silently fear his judgement! 🥹🥹

i think at the start (ie, before we develop truly deep romantic feelings for each other) he might find it to be a weakness or vulnerability of mine—just because he himself is similar in this regard of being able to appreciate all the menial joys of life (though definitely not to my extreme of tears AOSJSJK ;w;), and i see him teasing me for it—calling me a crybaby and asking me why i’m crying all the damn time LOL!!! but as we get closer and we begin to fall in love, he starts to think of it as a strength 🥺 and in turn he begins to love this aspect of himself too!!!! it’s very special to think about because i imagine that through loving parts of my personality, he grows to accept and eventually love those parts of his own 🥺💗

[6okuto-moved]

Hey Nia! Can I just say you’re rewriting is amazing, especially for Last Legacy. I submitted a post last week and tumblr likes to delete mine for some reason. It was about Felix x Mc x Rime poly. While I love healthy and loving representation of Poly I can help but feel that Mc might feel insecure at times. I mean they know they love Mc but they have such an intense history that sometimes the Mc feel like they don’t fit in. can you maybe do headcanons on them finding out that the Mc feels like this. Thank you!

note: UR amazing #getgot #aprilfoolsprank FBSJFHB but tumblr is such a silly little website i think.

you know when you enter the cycle of little moments where you feel like you don't fit in/feel awkward, you get a little quieter, wait for it to end, then it settles in the back of your head and starts to culminate every time it happens again, and then you keep pulling away just to avoid it but then you just feel worse,, and then at some point it's the straw that breaks the camel's back (sends you into a bit of an insecure breakdown). yeah.

felix might want to take a bit to think about how to confront them but rime cancels it out. better to figure it out quicker, isn't it?

"mc, have you been feeling alright?" mc tenses and looks up from the couch at rime and felix, "...hm? yeah, why?" "well...we feel as though you've been distant recently."

"oh...well i've been a little busy recently." "you know we work and live together, right?" rime quirks a brow, noting that they definitely didn't have anything they had to work on right now.

"if something's bothering you then maybe we can help, love," felix says softly, noticing the tension in their shoulders. mc bites their lip a little, speaking softly back, "i don't want to ruin anything, is all."

rime and felix share a look at their word choice before rime slowly takes a seat next to them. "sweetheart, i'm almost 100% positive that there's nothing you could say that would 'ruin' anything."

"it's...dumb, really." "it's not dumb if it's making you feel this bad." "you can talk to us, darling."

ironing their will because it seems like there isn't an escape at this point, mc takes a breath to try to stop their wavering voice,

"sometimes i feel like i shouldn't be with you guys." seeing the expression on felix and rime's faces, mc's eyes widen and they stutter, "sorry, that—not because i don't want to be. it's just, like..."

"i know you both love me, but it doesn't change the fact you knew each other way longer than you've known me. and i know you can't change that, and i know that doesn't mean you love me any less. but sometimes i listen to you guys talk about stuff i wasn't there for and i almost feel like i'm...intruding? like maybe you'd be better without me there."

"that's why i've been acting distant lately...i didn't want either of you to worry or feel guilty or anything, so, i don't know. i'm sorry."

there's a null that followers after their apology as all 3 of them sit and process what they said

felix gets it. rime probably gets it, too, in his own way. all of them have dealt with a fear that maybe they don't fit in, or they've missed out on something, that something with them is...wrong

mc is about to apologize again, for making things awkward or bringing it up, but then felix wraps his arms around them, pulling their face into his chest

"i'm sorry you didn't feel comfortable bringing this up sooner." "...it wasn't your fault, felix." "maybe, but i still wish we were able to make you feel safer."

mc looks down and starts to play with their hands, not going unnoticed by rime.

"hey," he tilts their head up at him. he runs his knuckles across their cheek and holds their face as they lean into his hand, "felix and i might have memories from the academy, but it isn't like we aren't going to make more with you, you know."

"and i think that'll be a lot better for him considering anytime i try to bring up an embarrassing story he wants to hit me." "because you're a menace." "weren't you two the ones who said violence isn't the answer?"

mc laughs at that, making felix and rime turn. they both smile knowing that they feel a little better now, even if the guilt hasn't completely washed away.

"wanna make some memories right now?" "rime." "what? i was talking about getting lunch—what were you two thinking of?" "maybe i really should break up with you" "you wouldn't even dream of that."

^ but seriously, they make sure to think of things to do with mc that their school days couldn't compare to . anytime they notice they're reminiscing while mc watches, one of them starts to include them into the conversation somehow. like, rime glancing over and going "mc, darling, tell felix over here that his plan was not smart or thought out in any way possible."

just a couple of considerate loving guys u know.

tags // @evanox @felixescellun @rimeliker @demon-paradise @pst-02 @diamo-chan @chubbywasouski @god-is-trans @sweet-milky-tea705 @felixismytrophywife @bananacockatiel @yoyo-campfire @felinvu @sleezzsister @lonelylittlecowboy @hestia-marie @lordbugs @azahelmz

the taglist form :D

[lovee-infected]

Hi there! How would the twst boys react to their s/o being slapped by Eliza 😂. Thanks for feeding us the wonderful headcanons! 💜

I love writing for such brilliant ideas , enjoy !

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle goes blank for a second , unsure what to say or how to react : Half of him wanted to act in and condemn ghosts for their arrogance to lay a hand on you but on the other hand , he knew that he didn't have the right to ; It was their brides choice and she did have the right to do it - which wasn't really pleasant -

You give him a sad look , expecting a show of mercy of sympathy , but he didn't move an eyebrow

You run to a silent corner to cry , and he comes after you . Riddle gives you a hug and apologizes that he couldn't help anything back then

He criticizes your movements as well , how you didn't present yourself properly and why Eliza could've changed her mind

But in the end ; he gives you a small reminder : " Perfect or not , know that you're enough for me ,"

Trey Clover

He got slapped himself so he understands how the world flashed before your eyes for a second

You look a bit down about failing so easily while you were trying to help ; but so did Trey . You get each other on that point

He barely notices it but he literally doesn't know how to flirt , but he tries his best to cheer you up "Ah don't give me that face ! At least you were waaay better than me,"

Well , maybe you weren't such an overly perfect being but neither was Trey , he was just an ordinary guy you'll get to see everyday ; not a stunning prince . It seems like the two of you come from a rather similar level

Perhaps that's why the two of you get along pretty well

Cater Diamond

You didn't expect him to even put his phone down for you but he eventually did ; you find it pretty odd to see him this eager about anything without wanting to share it via Internet , but it also means that he does care for you

He doesn't bother touching your cheek and asking if it hurts

He plants a small kiss on your blushing face and then goes salty again : " So glad that she didn't get you , means you're still all mine ! "

He brings up his phone and before you could've recognized , takes a selfie of him kissing an all shocked you . You beg him to delete it but he isn't listening , but he insures you that this one's a private issue so he won't post it ; perhaps the first selfie he isn't going to share anywhere

Ace Trappola

Trey and Riddle grab his body and mouth before he could do something stupid , how dare she , how dare she slaps you !?

Ace ws already tired of this drama with the hopelessly romantic bride , and you were the final shock .

" SHE IS A HUNDRED TIMES BETTER THAN Y-" Ace tries to shout at Eliza but Riddle grabs him by collar and puts a hand on his mouth : "YOU IDIOT WHAT ARE YOU..."

You come to calm him down , insisting that it's really nothing important , you didn't care . He still seems to be really pissed off at Eliza : " Huh , does she really think that she's any big deal ? My- girls are really crappy sometimes ,-"

Ace refuses to believe that you don't feel any offended so he pulls you to his embrace and keeps on sending you positive vibes non-stop : " You're gorgeous (y/n)! I mean it ! You're smart , talented , dignified ..."

Deuce Spade

He is low-key happy that you two join him at the losers bench . At least you won't now see him as the awkward loser he was in front of Eliza ; not too much to say

"So you too got slapped ?" he tells you he has no idea how to start the conversation

He knows that he is supposed to do something better but he is just blank about it

One half of him wants to hug you and tell that it's fine , then ask if you think he's awkward or something . But the other half just doesn't know what to say

He says that you two must learn some social skills together , that's the most he can do to flirt now : He soft boy

Leona Kingscholar

He actually doesn't mind insulting you a little for getting slapped . He's pissed off himself so he appreciates teasing you

From putting on a cocky smile and smirking to playing with you using sarcastic words

His very last sarcasm seems to be the worst : " I can say that you are way lower than royal standards ,"

But he puts a different end to his words : "...But since I as well got rejected , I guess we're now rejected mates ,"

Is it his sarcastic way of saying a small "I love you" ? Yes it is

Ruggie Bucchi

He didn't bother to come and try proposing , but wasn't expecting for you to try either . He lets out one of his Hyena-like giggles and comes to you

" Was that bride this savage ? Then I'm thankful that I didn't show up ! " he sneakers

He disappears for a second and comes back with an ice-pack : " Geez , it's my third time doing it today . Come over ," he tells you

He already did it for Leona and Jack because he was told to , but he is all ready to give you all those services and more to you

He does enjoy teasing you , but nursing you in situations like this is another hubby of him , after all you're an exception

Jack Howl

He kinda feels guilty about you getting slapped ; he shouldn't have let you tried it anyway . The possibility of you making it was low and you weren't a NRC student anyway

He knows that everyone else were the same but when it was you who got slapped right in front of everyone , he fears it being an issue

He quickly checks on you to see if you're fine and or need a doctor

He is a bit worried about your face swelling so he takes you school's nurse

On your way back , you thank him because of caring for you and he starts to blush and denies it all : " What do you mean ? It was nothing important . No need to thank ,"

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul grabs your hand , wishes Idia a happy marriage and the two of you leave the rest in the middle of chaos

He nags under the lips , telling how he wished others to let him turn her into a little clam

He telles you what an unfortunate soul Eliza is , not only did she die on her marriage day but she also lost perfect lover such as you

He doesn't care about the rest now , so he decides to leave them on their own and instead , have some free time with you

While you wear having some tea at mostrolounge , he shakes head and insults Eliza : " You are surely too much for her , my dear (y/n) . Ghosts always envy humans ; specially when it comes to someone as great as you ~"

Jade Leech

Eliza is now pretty odd to him , first she dislikes the flowers , and now , she rejects you ? Ghosts seem to be even weirder than surface creatures , he thinks

He understands the high standards required while choosing a partner , but you don't seem to lack anything ? How strange

He even cares to ask Eliza about what she might have disliked about you since you don't seem to have any problems , but he avoids it anyway because he isn't ready to get secondly slapped

He offers you a short walk with a bright smile , and you accept

" Miss Eliza surely has weird standards , (y/n) sweetie . You were perfect enough to win ,"

Too bad Crowley insists on them respecting their ghost visitors as long as the stay , Jade is really encouraged to give them a lesson . But uh , he has to have a hold of himself as Octavinelle's vice dorm leader

" Too bad she is dead , flowers would have had an interesting effect if she weren't ," he sighs

Floyd Leech

This bride is getting on his nerves , loud , dumb , in love with a blue , awkward chicken and finds silly excuses to reject everyone proposing to her. If she weren't dead , Floyd would wish her to be . Some brats are better dead

He doesn't see any need to spoil you , but he decides to spill somevtea since it was you " Don't worry shrimpy . You may not be perfect , but she's worse than you , " he flirts .He gives you a tight hug and squeezes you , rambling that it's because Eliza didn't let him do that

He actually finds the red mark on your face cute , saying that it makes your skin color just similar to a shrimp .

He can't help loving your -shrimp-like face - and so , he lowers his head and gives it a small kiss

Vil Schoenheit

If Eliza were alive , Vil would love it now to burn her alive in a huge dig of poison . Or maybe feed him to the dogs , both seem nice

He gently holds your face within his hands and carefully looks at the mark Eliza left behind

He curses under the lips and then pulls you into a soft hug : " Don't mind her love , lowly creatures are unworthy of true beauty , don't let their though bring you down," he mumbles

He absolutely hates being disrespected like this , so he leaves it to Rook and Epel ; though he doubts them being any helpful

He takes you to Pomefiore for firstly , making sure that your slapped face won't swell and then , giving you a full day spa . From extreme showers to putting on your makeup

When you're done , he stares at you through the mirror and smiles : " What an idiot she was to lose this stunning beauty of yours ,"

Rook Hunt

This bride keeps fascinating him , first Vil and now you ? Good god , she is pathetic

Rook really looks up to both of you as a symbol of beauty , grace and in general , perfection . Seeing the two of you being insulted like this is a real pitty

He is being relied on as one of the only four guys who didn't get slapped so he sadly doesn't have much time to comfort you now ; so he comes up with a new idea :

He asks you to give him the pleasure and be his : Bride model ; he has got plenty of tricks up his sleeve , but he still needs to practice them on someone

His long and beautiful poem which was hiding an I love you within its words , and his brilliance ways of winning one's heart leave you speechless ; not ever imagining that he might be this much of a romance man

He practices literally anything he was planning to do with you , and then comes up with the final words : " Dearest (y/n) , would you give me the honor of being your servant of love for eternity ? "

Epel Felmier

You got...what ? Epel was a normal guy at least in his own opinion , Vil senpai was surely beautiful but...not perfect either . But why you ? You didn't seem to have any specific problems . He doesn't like this thing with proposing anyways , so he was hoping someone , specially you , to succeed before he has to...

He is supposed to be practicing dos and don'ts of being a perfect groom , but he just can't do it without checking on you

He comes to you and gives you a tight hug , asking if you're alright

He confesses that he as well is now really scared since he has never even kissed a girl before , but he's going to try his best and put an end into this

He isn't the best of his own , but if a prince on a white horse is what this Ghost needed , he is going to make it , and prove it to you that he can

Kalim al asim

He doesn't know what is going on when you face him with your half red face , he gasps and worriedly starts asking questions : was there a fight ? Did you get hurt ? Was someone trying to bully you ? Who on earth had dared to do this to you !?

You explain the whole issue with he ghost bride and how almost everyone got slapped , making him calm down a bit

He now wants to have a word with this bride , it's rude to slap people just because you don't like them and that really bugs Kalim

Jamil stops him by reminding that it's none of Scarabia's business and as the dorm leader , he has to stay here taking care of more important stuff

Kalim has to agree but he isn't quite satisfied , but he comes up with another way to cheer you up :

" Imagine you're the bride and I'm proposing to you , let's see if I get slapped or not ! "

Jamil Viper

Just as Kalim , he can't imagine why you got slapped for at first but when you explain , he chills a bit

Most of the brides Jamil know gave in to marriage after being given tons of gold and jewelry , but since it is with a ghost , he wondered what might actually attract her. Princesses have to marry people from the same level as themselves , probably a prince or someone pretty rich ; so he isn't really fascinated that you and others all got slapped

He can't help it much , but perhaps insulting all other guys losing their chance is something he would appreciate talking about . It isn't clear if he wants you to feel better by neglecting every other guy or is just trying to chill a bit ; anyways it's joyful for you to talk and having him spending some time with you alone

Idia Shroud

Idia is locked inside the room ,, but he hears sound of you trying to propose to Eliza . His feeling are a bit complicated , both hopeful that Eliza would give up on him because of you and jealous of Eliza , whom you proposed to. No one's here to see him can freely admire your beautiful words coming one after one , and then an unexpected sound : You got slapped

Idia now has lost both his very last hope to get freed and his temper : His hair is slightly turning read . This crazy bride made him lose the global championship league of his favorite video game (since he was tied up by her ) and now slaps you !?

His thoughts are really wild now , especially because of how he can't do anything at all . He wishes he could see you and tell how beautiful and great he thinks your proposal was , hopeful that it'll make you smile

You still went out of his way and tried to free him , and that was more than enough for Idia . All he wishes is to see one more time and get to tell how he feels for you♥

Ortho Shroud

This ghost : Kidnapped his brother and now , slaps you

Who says robots can't feel anything ? Because now , Ortho is mad

He really does want to hack all of NRC's servers and share pictures of ghosts who dare kidnapping and insulting students without the principal doing anything . That'd be an end to Mr Crowley's career but since he isn't doing anything serious , he deserves it

You apologize him because of failing to save his brother , but he just gives you a hug telling how scared he is

You and Idia are the most important people in his life , he just can't stand having you hurt . Not even imagining what he might do if he loses any of you

Malleus Draconia

He wasn't there to recognize this any sooner , but Lilia and Sebek did tell him everything .He shouldn't show up in front of any other students (because they might spoil his real name ) and shouldn't show up in front of any ghosts (because they may catch him and force him to propose ). He was thinking of meeting you in front of ramshackle drom ; your regular corner but since there as well is haunted by the ghosts , he can't help but to wait for this drama to cool down

When you finally return to Ramshackle dorm in the middle of the night , your unexpected guest , tsuno-tarou , is waiting for you

You are suspicious that you didn't see him at all today , so he explains that due to some reasons he couldn't make it . He says hat he doesn't really know what had happened since he stayed in dorm all day , so you go on telling everything from the very beginning . He already knows everything but wants to hear it all from you one more time . He likes to see what they all might've looked like into your eyes . When you're done telling him the story , he giggles and asks one more question ; just curious to see how you'll answer : " So didn't you try proposing , or did you as well get slapped...?"

Lilia Vanrouge

This day was getting more and more complicated... First getting rejected for being too cute and having his 500+ year reputation ruined like this and now , you being the second to get slapped ; this isn't fair

He can help but to let his tears fall , if he's too cute then it's fine for him to cry . Sebek and you freak out in fear of him being through some sort of serious pain or injury , then he just laughs and tells you that he's alright . He just needed to comfort himself but freeing those tears

He doesn't see any need of today getting worse , so he doesn't mind flirting a bit . He jokes on whatever you rejected for not being more frustrating than being too cute and laughs

He thinks that you may like to talk more , so he brings up a more interesting issue : His hundred years experience with women

You are fascinated at how many times he has joined ladies for dances or drinking , yet has never been on a serious relationship

He's actually trying to spill more tea of his low experiements with relationships , hopeful that you get his point

Silver

You return along with Lilia and Sebek. , all of having half of your face red . Silver wasn't there to know what was going on or why Sebek is shouting at him for being a coward not trying to propose like a real man . Poor boy is just blank

Lilia takes Sebek along with him and leaves the two of you alone , so you start telling everything over . He tries his best to hide his laugh at the point where Sebek got slapped but he failed , then Lilia and finally , you

You tell him that you really feel frustrated about failing others and not being good enough , but it makes Silver gently laugh : " Well , from Leona Senpai to Mr . Vil , they all got slapped one by one , doesn't it sound a bit weird ? "

You surely don't get hos point so he continues : " When someone keeps rejecting everyone one by one , it means that they don't really know what they want. They're seeking perfection ; but no one's ever perfect enough for them . Through lovers would still love each other aside lacking too much on their own , and that's what makes their love last : They complete each other "

His words really move you and make you ask how he can tell all these words so beautifully

He gives you small smile and adds : " Well , it's because I've experienced it all with you "

Sebek Zigvolt

Having both master Malleus and you insulted on the same day : This is too much !

You shouldn't have been the one forced propose while others like Silver were laying comfortably on a sofa dreaming of rainforests and colorful birds , it wasn't your right !

He doesn't even ask , he immediately takes you to the nurse office to put a stick on your slapped face . You insist that it's be too much but he isn't listening

He then , apologizes for about an hour for not talking you out of something that wasn't even your duty and promises that there won't be a next time on it

You really get concerned at how stressed out this boy suddenly gets over nothing , so you cut him off by pulling yourself to his embrace and giving him a hug . He freezes at first , but then relaxes and hugs back

" Promise that I'll never let you down (y/n) , never"

♦♥♠♣

Tagging : @lilyholo @yourlittlerunt @minteasketches @epher-posts @takumipineapplexd @yandere-of-your-dreams

[ticklish-touch]

Character FAQ’s

Any questions along this strain will not be answered as I’ve gotten them very frequently in the past, or am just not comfortable answering them!

Can (X character) tickle/tease/flirt with me? (Alternatively: Can I tickle (X character)?)

Would they tickle you? Would they want to be tickled? Absolutely. You don’t even need to ask.

But I, an introverted artist behind a screen that doesn’t know you as a person, am not always comfortable indulging strangers on the internet. General questions about how they tickle their playmates are totally fine.

For example:

https://ticklish-touch.tumblr.com/post/674571370847469568/i-have-a-question-for-kenni-i-would-be-so-happy

Can Kenni/Rags make people more ticklish?

Yep! They have magic that can temporarily make someone who isn’t ticklish at all as ticklish as they want. They also have ticklish healing magic!

What if someone doesn’t like being tickled? What would Kenni and Rags (or your other OCs) do?

Tbh I’m not really sure why so many people come onto a tickle blog and ask “but what if they don’t like tickles”? My characters don’t go after people who are legit terrified of being tickled. Most of my non-human OCs are empaths and mind-readers, after all. Otherwise, if there’s someone who wants to overcome their fear so they can get tickled, then my OCs would be careful not to push too far past someone’s boundaries. Rags usually sends Kenni their way first to soften them up, before he attempts his crazy antics to lighten their mood.

My story “Afraid to Laugh” is the best example of this. Not to toot my own horn, but I am still pretty proud of how it turned out.

https://www.deviantart.com/ticklishtouch/art/Afraid-to-Laugh-Tickle-Therapy-736656060

https://www.deviantart.com/ticklishtouch/art/Afraid-to-Laugh-Retaliation-748048427

Who is your most sadistic Ler?

Ragaeli, Shikhar and Mikhail are pretty tied. They’re just, sadistic in different ways. Rags really plays into the “stark-raving lunatic that will tickle you half into madness” archetype. Shikhar is 100% into Domming & BDSM-play; Mikhail’s a terrible tease and extremely greedy for laughter.

I totally ship Kenni & Rags, is this okay?

That’s fine by me, but, keep in mind that Rags is aromantic and neither one of them have any interest in settling down with anyone as a life partner. Their relationship really can’t be compared to a ‘traditional’ romantic relationship between humans. It’s more of like... A very strong bond/friendship & friendly rivalry that happens to get kinky sometimes. 

Does Mikhail have his body back?

I’ve gotten this one a surprising amount of times, and it honestly flatters me that I have followers that have been around that long to know this part of his lore/character motives. Buuut no, and I’ll probably never get around to writing him getting his body back. I might just... Magically make it canon someday, lmao

But I like the idea of a vampire ghost because there’s an overabundance of regular vamps out there already.

How would (X character with sensitive disposition) react to (X thing with fucked up themes)?

Can we... not do this, please? I’ve had to delete so many questions like this (mostly regarding “How would Kenni react to horror?”) I know some people thrive on creating angst for their OCs, but I personally get very uncomfortable thinking about purposefully exposing mine to something that I know would really upset them. 

Can (X character) comfort me/ give me advice? I’m having a rough time.

Please don’t use my inbox or my OCs as your therapist’s office.

How would (X character) react to someone who has trauma? (Whether it be tickle-related or otherwise)

Again: Not a therapist’s office. My characters, who are literal gods and immortals, may be equipped to address things like PTSD, DID, BPD, trauma, etc. but I am not. That’s not what this blog is for. And I have my own share of mental illness to deal with. I also don’t want to accidentally spread any misinformation, nor do I want to indirectly put other people into a bad headspace reading about strangers’ trauma.

Your askbox is closed, can I send you a question in your DMs or on your DeviantArt?

Please don’t do this. The reason I close my askbox in the first place is because I either want to catch up with what I currently have, or just don’t feel like accepting them at that time, and I would like you to respect that. I want to be fair to people who asked their questions first. Any persistent attempts to try to make me answer is just going to make me ignore you.

*asterisk RP starters*

Nice try.

I don’t mind if you include small asterisk actions in your question, because I often have my OCs respond similarly. But pls don’t take that to mean that I want to continue out a scene in my inbox.

Blacklist:

I will not answer or talk about any of the following, so please do not ask or prompt me with:

Pregnancy

Suicidal / heavy depressive talk

Animal harm

Politics

Gore, horror

Vore

Menstruation

Suffocation

Smoke & fire, house fires

Sexual violence/abuse

Orgasm denial

DDlg, infantilism

Non-con

[eirian-houpe]

The Monday Menu

Week 2 of August, next week I start back to work... teacher workdays, but still... 

So, what news...? I FINALLY did it.  I cut myself free from a certain horrible fic website. Deleted ALL my fics, and I’m just waiting for them to tell me how to close the account, and it will all be gone. (There’s no button to do that.) Fear not, however, I am moving everything to AO3. Some of the great exodus has begun already, I’m working through a Stargate Atlantis fic, and a UC: Undercover fic right now, and the others will come in time.

I wrote a little bit last week about how I feel guilty when I indulge myself an allow myself to write. I know I shouldn’t.  It’s a HUGE part of my self-care routine, but I still do. So if anyone catches me doing that guilt thing - please call me out.

Still waiting on those Behind the Scenes requests? Also, nothing happened on Thursday or Saturday last week because I didn’t get any prompts for TTT or Saturday Secret. Sad really. Is the fandom sleeping?

Here’s the plan for this week (and an explanation of each thing for those that are new to my Tumblr), though I might be making some changes.

Monday - The Monday Menu - what it says on the box. A plan for the week.

Tuesday - TMI Tuesday. - Ask me… go on, anything.  Ask my characters -they’ll answer. Nothing is off limits, but be sure you want the answer before you ask the question.

Wednesday - WIP Wednesday - Current state of my works in progress. So many - and still clmbing!

Thursday - Three Things Thursday - any fic of mine is fair game. Doesn’t have to be Rumbelle, I have Rushbelle, a bunch of crossovers, some shows people might no know, some ST: DSC, some SGA and some Tolkien too… ask three things, I dare ya…! Please… This is also the day I’ll do the ‘Behind the Scenes’ post, which might just end up as part of the TTT post.

Friday - Final Line Friday. - Assuming I manage to write anything, I will post a word cloud, and the last line that I have written right before I post this.

Saturday - Saturday Secret - another one of those where you can ask about any fic, and I’ll tell (or show) you a secret. Feel free to follow up with conversation or guesses.  I will tell you if you get something right. Again, no one took me up on the offer… so we might also have to think of another ‘SA’ post.

Sunday - Seven Sentence Sunday. - yeah, I have to write something to be able to post this.

Writing this week - Disparate Pathways is at the head of the list, followed by Not Yours to Keep, and then maybe if there’s time, What the Actual Fuck! I’m also being poked at about a fic that has the working Title “Only Remembered for What We Have Done.”  I think that title is likely to change, but probably not by much.  You might get to see chapter 1 of that fic sooner than I had anticipated.

As always my inbox is open for thoughts, questions, asks… I don’t restrict people to any particular day of the week, and I - like most fic authors - love to discuss things to do with fics and fandom.

I just want to add a shout out to those readers who have left me Kudos these last several days.  It has not gone un-noticed.  love you guys for those votes of confidence..

Talk to me, peeps! My inbox is lonely,

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 001. the unexpected.

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ intro | the unexpected | a mother’s nightmare  ↪

mia’s speaks:

Okay, so before we start the story. I’d just like to explain that this may be a slow burn kinda thing because I fully want everyone to understand yn’s point of view after she ran away six years ago. We will eventually enter Atsumu’s point of view along the story, but for now, I hope you guys like this! Let me know what you guys think! 

It had been six years and to this day, it still haunts you. Well, what they say is true anyway. Everything you run away from will eventually continue to haunt you until you decide to face it head-on. Needless to say, you were feeling pretty pathetic. Six years later, and that is still what you felt to this day. Pathetically sad.

The cool air emitting from the air conditioner set up in the living room, mixed with the early morning cold winter atmosphere that engulfed most of Japan with its beautiful white coat, brushes against the patches of exposed skin causing you to shiver slightly, silently cursing to yourself for forgetting to turn the appliance off during the night before. You had awoken too early for your liking, the sun barely peeking as you left the comforts of your bed to grab a cup of coffee. You were never a morning person, only because it was the time where you were often left with your thoughts as the time slot was usually unproductive.

During such unproductive hours, your thoughts usually consumed you. If it weren't about work or the handful of people you hold close to your heart, it often leads you to thoughts of your life six years ago. You wondered what it would be like if you hadn't opted to run away from reality a few years back during your high school years. Your train of thought often wandered to countless possibilities if you had faced your problems earlier on. To you now, running away seemed almost petty. Well, sorta.

Would you have been happy? Would they have accepted things? Would you have grown apart? Would they have pushed you away?

Sadly, you'd never know. This is only because you fear the truth so you refuse to return and seek certain answers that no doubt will only lead to ultimate disaster. You fear the consequences of your actions. To simply put, you were a coward.

It had been six years and to this day, it still haunts you. Well, what they say is true anyway. Everything you run away from will eventually continue to haunt you until you decide to face it head-on. Needless to say, you were feeling pretty pathetic. Six years later, and that is still what you felt to this day. Pathetically sad.

You move your gaze away from the hot cup of coffee on the kitchen counter over to glance out of the window from your apartment, watching the dark skies slowly fade away to signal a brand new day on the horizon, the sun painting the sky a bright calming hue. Any minute now, your friends that had decided to crash at your place during the previous night are bound to wake up. Your tiny space had become some sort of safe haven for when they needed to hide away from their own problems, or when they needed you to nurse their drunken states.

Despite it sparking irritation within yourself, you could never bring yourself to deny them. The group had been nothing but a solid help for you the past six years when you fled from Hyōgo and where you settled yourself in the comforts of your late father's best friend back in Kanagawa, Suwa Riku, reconnecting with one of your childhood friends, Suwa Reiji. The loving Suwa family accepted you with open arms, practically calling you their own despite the situation you dug yourself in. Honestly, if they had turned you away, you would have probably ended up in the gutter somewhere in Japan as you had no other place to go. It wouldn't have even shocked you if they were to turn their backs at you when you had first came knocking on their front door, practically drenched from the pouring rain, it was barely enough to conceal the tears.

However, despite the past they barely knew, they accepted you with open arms without an ounce of judgment. If they were curious, they asked politely, and if certain questions were too difficult for you to answer, they respected your need for privacy.

When you had left everything behind in Hyōgo, you wanted to forget. You had deleted your previous profiles from any sort of social media platform that you had and changed your number when you had the chance. To everyone in Hyōgo, you completely disappeared, a mere ghost that residents either often gossiped about or have completely forgotten, it wasn't as if you were well known within the community, but—still, your disappearance had quite the impact. However, since no one has found you yet in the past six years, it probably meant that your mother didn't care. You assumed the same for your handful of friends. You stayed with the Suwa Family in Kanagawa for at least a year and a half, time for yourself and to get adjusted to your new life before you convinced yourself to get a job that will lead you to a somewhat peaceful life, you needed it for support, now more so than ever. Once again, you are in debt when your childhood friend Reiji offered you a job as a manager for their group. Of course, how could you say no? Despite the busy schedule, you managed enough, sometimes giving you the ability to be flexible.

Ah, yes. Suwa Reiji, the lead singer for the famous boy band, Galaxy Standard. The two of you had been friends before you had moved to Hyōgo when you were eight years old. Despite the distance between the two of you, when your father was still around since your fathers were close friends, the two of you did keep in touch. However, as you grew older and found new friends in Hyōgo, the need to keep in touch disappeared almost instantly. Thankfully, despite years of not having any contact with each other, the two of you reconnected, happy to be back in each other's lives.

The past six years, as you tried to find yourself and finally settle independently, Reiji was there.

And despite the exhausting job of managing a boy band, you adored it. It kept you occupied. Despite the boys being famous, you opted to keep your social media platforms private, or rather secret, only your friends and a few of Galaxy Standard's fans knew of it. Although the fans knew of your existence, you wanted your personal life private and thankfully, the management and fans respected that with the help from your friends who are aware of your situation. You wanted to stay hidden. Accompanying the boys in certain events, despite being a girl where it was typical for fangirls to grow upset because of the close contact with their idols, the fans respected you and often held polite conversations with you.

Yes, despite the troubles you have, you wouldn't deny the fact that you were indeed happy, but lately, something in the back of your mind has been irking you, making you feel extremely uneasy for not knowing what it could be. It frustrated you to no end.

"Someone looks like a vein in their head might pop," you hear Reiji tease as he approached. You roll your eyes before turning your attention over to the man that intruded your thoughts. Bless him, you were slowly becoming crazy with all the thinking. However, you weren't going to praise him or anything, despite Reiji's calm and humble personality towards others, he was a completely different person towards you; often teasing, most days very playful.

You snap back playfully, "Good morning to you, too." He occupies the seat across from you, despite stumbling to your apartment the previous night completely drunk from a party, the man before you showed no sign of a hungover, you were used to it by now. "Seriously, you and Shizuma need to find some other place to crash. I don't even know how you roped him into drinking, he was absolutely thrashed when the two of you arrived. Normally, he'd be the responsible one."

"Yeah, but once he starts drinking, there's no stopping him. And Nah," he chuckles as he leans against the counter, a yawn escaping his lips as he spoke midway, "Your place is comfy but also because I get to see the cute faces of my favourite nephews almost instantly, it's a bonus."

"Uncle Reiji!"

"Where's Uncle 'zuma?"

Speaking of the little devils. Both of your attentions snaps at the two identical figures that stepped out of their shared room and into the vicinity that you and Reiji occupied. 

The sight of their sleepy states warmed your heart at just how cute they have grown. Ah, yes. Your two boys. One of the two reasons why you preferred to keep your personal life, private. Of course, there was also Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro to think about. Your precious boys, your utmost priority. Everything you could ever want and more. They were the two that you could finally call home. As much as you know that your existence wouldn't be much of a big deal to the fans since you weren't entirely famous, you refused to let your boys get caught into any unnecessary drama that your friends have often got themselves into, so despite having famous uncles, you kept them shielded whenever you can. Of course, the fans of Galaxy Standard were aware of the existence of your little boys, often swooning when one of their idols were photographed with one of the twins. Needless to say, it always made the fans crazy, but you were grateful that the fans were respectful and never crossed the line whenever your boys were included.

Of course, the main reason why you wanted everything to be kept private was that you didn't want certain people to know the secret you've worked hard to stay hidden, but Japan was big, wasn't it? You often reassured yourself that it was impossible for paths to cross.

"Why are you looking for your Uncle Shizuma when I'm here?" Reiji asks, feigning hurt in his expression as both six-year-old boys approach, yawning and sleepily rubbing their eyes.

Atsuhiro, or rather Hiro, as he liked to be called sighs as he shakes his head at his uncle, "But Uncle 'zuma is the best."

"Now you take that back young man!" He scoffs as he playfully places his hands on his hips, "Who do you think raised you?"

The little boy tilts his head to the side as he watches his uncle in amusement of his antics, "Uncle 'zuma helped too! Mommy says he even helped out changing diapers which you didn't do!"

"But Uncle Reiji's the best! He always plays with us!" Atsuhiko, Hiko, retorts as he rushes over to his uncle to give him a high five, "Mommy, Uncle Rei said he's going to teach us some tricks like he did back then in Stride! Isn’t that cool?"

You send a glare towards the man that was mentioned by your son, who only avoided your gaze as he ruffles your son's hair, "Maybe something else. You can ask your uncles to teach you how to sing and dance like they always do, just not that dangerous sport."

Atsuhiko groans in protest while the other twin approaches you, wrapping his short arms around your leg, "Do you think they can teach us volleyball?"

"Oh yes!" Atsuhiko yells out happily agreeing with his twin, his dismay for his mother's earlier disapproval flying out the window as he looks at you with hope in his eyes, "Volleyball is so cool! Can we mommy?"

Almost instantly, a lump formed in the back of your throat at the mention of the mere sport, a reminder. It wasn't as if you were against the sport, but what caught you off guard was the interests your boys clearly showed. How ironic.

As you raised the two, whether at times you were alone or had help, you often pushed the twins away from certain reminders of your past. What was that? Anything that reminded you of your past in Hyōgo was pushed aside. It was rather petty, you knew that yourself but as the twin boys grew throughout the years, it didn't get unnoticed how their features screamed of the one and only Miya Atsumu. Well, you expected that—he is the father of your twin boys, but you silently prayed during your pregnancy and as you raised them that their features would come from your side of the family instead of his.

But of course, somehow you've upset the Gods for your pettiness. This was your consequence. A daily reminder. There's no denying of your love for your boys. They were your life and you wouldn't change anything because then they wouldn't exist. However, you've grown hateful of your past as years gone by. Your hatred for the awful memories had made it more difficult to forget.

You expected the interest in volleyball before they even mentioned it to you today. The clues in their shared room were enough for you to pick up that they were most likely to take after their father in a sense, not that they know of such.

Earlier, about two years prior when they first started in kindergarten, it was inevitable for such to talk about your families, you remember experiencing such back then despite it being foggy. They returned home, despite being young, they were smart for their age and bombarded you with questions without holding back; wondering about who was their father and where he was, or if Uncle Reiji or Uncle Shizuma were their fathers. Back then, you couldn't bring yourself to tell them the truth or even utter a single word about the man missing in their lives.

You experienced a whole week of silent treatment from your two boys because you refused to answer, their stubbornness hard as a rock. You refuse to answer their questions? Well, they, of course, fight back by refusing to talk to you. Oh, children, right? Of course, Reiji and Shizuma were a big help because to the twins, the two of your friends were practically the only father figures that they had. Since Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro refused to utter a word to you, they tried their best to talk to the twins, avoiding certain parts that they were too young to know about, and explained that when they grew up and they were ready to know, you would eventually let them know.

Bless the heavens because, after that, your two boys returned to their loving yet sneaky nature, never asking or mentioning about their father again. However, the majority of the conversations about their father were kept in secret between the two. Atsuhiro wanting to know more while Atsuhiko pushing the idea away, but not wanting to upset his brother, he keeps his dismay of their missing father from Atsuhiro, who grew more eager to find his father as years go by.

"What's with all the excitement at such an early hour? You two always have so much energy. What's this I hear about wanting to play volleyball?" Shizuma saves you from answering and you share a silent communication to send your gratitude for the interference.

Atsuhiro breaks out into a grin at the sight of his favourite uncle and immediately approaches him, "Uncle 'zuma, do you know how to play volleyball? Can you teach me and Hiko? Please?"

Shizuma chuckles in response, ruffling the little boy's messy locks, "I'm not that good but if you and your brother are serious about wanting to learn volleyball, I know a friend that may be of help."

"You do?" Atsuhiko asks, excitement in his voice.

You repeat, arching a brow in curiosity, "You do?"

"Well he's more of Asuma's friend than mine but we're good acquaintances," he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, "I'll see what I can do for my two favourite nephews."

"Yes!" The twins exclaim happily at the same time before running towards each other to share their routine handshake.

"Now that's settled," Reiji starts, clapping his hands together to grab the attention from everyone in the room, "Aren't you two supposed to be getting ready for your day with Grandpapa and Grandmama Suwa? You wouldn't want to keep those two waiting, I heard they have a really big day planned ahead for the two of you."

Ah, Grandpapa and Grandmama Suwa. Reiji's parents, and well—your substitute parents and the twins' substitute grandparents. Despite not being biologically related, they treated the three of you like a real family. They helped you throughout your pregnancy and at the same time raising your two boys. They did what any grandparent would do, discipline and spoil them. You wouldn't change it for the world. The love they had for your boys was overwhelming, and Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro completely adored their substitute grandparents just the same.

Atsuhiro releases a gasp from his lips at the realization of the big day, he had been excited, to say the least, rushing to get prepared whilst Atsuhiko frowns and stays rooted in where he stood, "But today's Uncle Asuma's birthday! I want to go too!"

"No can do, kiddo." Shizuma shakes his head, crossing his arms across his chest; an indication the twins are familiar with that meant it was not up for any negotiation. "You know this party isn't for little boys, your Uncle Asuma already told you this, but he promised to take both of you out tomorrow to make up for it. You and Hiro can celebrate his birthday tomorrow, I promise."

Atsuhiko releases a dramatic sigh, throwing his little hands in the air as he stomps his way to get ready, knowing that if he were to argue, he would inevitably lose. Oh well, he thought to himself, Grandpapa and Grandmama are the best anyway. 

"I don't know how you do it, 'zuma." You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Those two have become spoiled to the core because of all of us, yet when it comes to you and their Grandpapa Riku, they suddenly become little angelic-slash-monsters who obey every command."

Shizuma lets a grin spread on his lips, "Some things can't be taught. Anyway, I'll get going. I have to help prep Asuma's party. I'll see you guys there."

"I'll get going too," Reiji declares as he stands up from his seat, "Don't back out of the party, I'll drag you there if I have to, I swear."

You roll your eyes at them, more so at Reiji than Shizuma, shooing them with your hands as you follow them to the front door, "Yeah, whatever. I'll be there. Stop worrying."

Dropping the twins at the Suwa Residence after eating lunch together was often smooth sailing as the twins always adored spending the day with their substitute grandparents. However, Atsuhiko expressed his dismay of being left behind once again insisting of wanting to attend his Uncle Asuma's birthday party, you had to pry his hands away from his grip on your leg. Thankfully, you had help from his Grandpapa Riku, and after waving goodbye to a smiling Atsuhiro and a scowling Atsuhiko, you were off to get a few errands done before heading to Asuma's apartment to celebrate his birthday, taking your sweet time to avoid your favourite, yet rowdy bunch of friends, only because they probably wanted you to help them set up the party, which you didn't want to take part in.

Honestly, you could have chosen otherwise but decided against skipping the errands that would most probably pile up despite the break Galaxy Standard was having. Plus, you may or may not have, forgotten to get a gift for Asuma and if you showed up empty-handed, well, you weren't going to hear the end of it.

Hours went by as you got through your list of errands, you were left with messages and certain phone calls that you ignored throughout the day, you were finally able to buy a suitable gift for your friend. All there was left to do was show up to the party that was apparently already in full swing. Thankfully, your friend's lavish apartment was around the corner.

You waited for the traffic lights to signal the safe journey across the busy streets, your grip on the neatly wrapped gift on one hand slightly tightening against you as you shiver from Japan's cool winter breeze bustling through the air, something you're still obviously not very fond of. For as long as you can remember, you hated the cold. It was a bitter reminder of the times you were utterly alone. You always preferred the warm temperature, whether it was from a fireplace or someone else, it kept you from going numb, made to remind you of reality.

The sound of your phone ringing startles you from your thoughts and you pull the device from one of your pockets, Reiji's name flashing across the screen. You grumble to yourself of his impatience before answering the call, bringing the device up to press against your ear. Before you could utter a word, he beats you to it in a demanding tone, "Where are you? You're late."

"Hold your horses, Rei." You answer in irritation as you look up ahead to check the traffic lights that still had the signal to stay where you were, "I'm almost there. Be patient." However, you couldn't process the words Reiji muttered next from the other line. Someone calling out your name catching your attention, your eyes widening slightly at the realization of who it was. Immediately, you cut off Reiji's rambling from the other line and ended the call, slipping the phone back into your pocket as you feel your shoulder tense at his presence standing next to you. "Osamu."

"So it is you," he blinks in disbelief, his eyes drinking your features bit by bit to check if he was dreaming or not, "You look different, I barely recognized you if it weren't for your voice, but it really is you."

You nod stiffly, "I suppose I would since it has been six years and all. What are you doing all the way here in Kanagawa?"

Suddenly, a memory flashes across your mind. A memory of earlier in your apartment, Shizuma mentioning a friend who knew how to play volleyball. No, it couldn't be, right?

"Ah, I'm actually checking a few spots around here for my business," he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, "So Kanagawa, huh? This is where you've been hiding all this time?"

Your lips press into a thin line, feeling uneasy under his gaze. Of course, you would, you're practically hiding a really big secret. "I'm sorry, I don't have time to chat. I have plans and my friends are already egging me on for being late."

The traffic lights save you from a painful conversation, signalling that it was safe to cross but before you could take a step away, you feel him grasp onto your shoulder to pull you back. You turned your head to face him, ready to fight him off but you halted your actions at the sign of sadness his features displayed. You took the time to examine his features, your heart practically leaping as you were able to take in everything unlike seconds ago where you were purposely trying to leave. Of course, back then when you were friends, you considered Osamu as handsome. I mean, why wouldn't you? You were practically in love with his twin brother who you found extremely handsome at the time. However, that wasn't what ran through your mind. You began thinking that Atsumu probably looked just as good, and suddenly you felt a shitload of bricks slamming right down on your shoulders, the feeling of panic surging through your veins, wondering if Atsumu was around too that you failed to notice Osamu pull out a small card from his wallet, holding it out for you to take. He seemed to read your thoughts as he spoke to reassure you, "Don't worry. He's not here, but..." He trails off, looking at you with hope in his eyes, "take this, it has my number on it. When you're ready, I'm here to listen. I always have been. I want to know what you've been up to. I want to catch up."

At Osamu's reassurance, you feel your shoulders slowly relax as you take the card from him, your eyes scanning the printed numbers and words, Ongiri Miya, making you realize that he hadn't pursued Volleyball like his twin often rambled on. You flicker your gaze up to meet his once more and he gives you a small smile. You slowly nod as you slip the card into one of your back pockets, "I have to go."

He watches you leave, the smile he had instantly morphed into a frown as he watches you walk away once more and eventually disappear from his line of sight. He silently prayed that you would contact him when you could, wanting to reconnect with you after all these years, to know why you left. He promises to himself that when you do decide to reach out, that you wouldn't mention anything to his idiot brother.

He noted the shift of your body, how your shoulders relaxed at the mention of someone not being around, he knew that you had thought about his brother. And it only confirmed his suspicion of you leaving because of what his brother had done six years ago, the last day people saw you in Hyōgo. However, something still was missing, he still craved an answer. You couldn't have left just because of Atsumu's actions. So what was it?

Either way, he was determined to find out. You may have not known it then, but Osamu cared about you a lot. However, due to you being blinded by his twin brother's light, you failed to notice. He wasn't going to let you go this time, he'll find a way to get you back in his life. His phone blares his ringtone, snapping him out of his thoughts. As he brings his phone up, he grumbles underneath his breath at the sight of his brother's incoming call. Speak of the devil.

"What is it?"

He hears his brother whine from the other line, "Can't I just call my brother once in a while?"

"You only ever do that when you're in trouble or need something," he retorts with a roll of his eyes.

Atsumu laughs in response, "How'd the shop searching go? Anything interesting so far? When you coming back?"

"Hold up, what's with the questions?" He laughs at the sound of his brother's enthusiasm. It's true, they often disagreed with each other but when it came to supporting each other's passion, they were always there for the other. He shifts his gaze over to where you stood moments ago, a smile ghosting his lips at the memory of the brief conversation the two of you shared. "Yeah, maybe something interesting here in Kanagawa after all." He listens to his brother speak excitedly over the phone causing him to shake his head at the ridiculous tone. "Oh? He's here? Maybe I can hit him up..."

After the encounter with Osamu, you practically quickened your pace to Asuma's apartment, your heart beating erratically. You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until you were gasping for air. Luckily, the majority of Asuma's guests were preoccupied that they hadn't noticed your entrance. You were sure you looked embarrassing looking extremely flustered.

You hear your name being called and as soon as you caught your breath, you notice Shizuma calling you over, Asuma and Reiji along with someone you seem to recognize but can’t seem place in your mind. Walking over, your lips curl up to a small smile as you extend your arm to hand over Asuma's gift, "Happy Birthday, 'suma. Here's my gift."

Asuma's eyes instantly light up, retrieving the gift from you, "I was going to get mad at you for being late but since you have a gift for me, I'll let it slide. Did the boys pick this for me?"

"Gee, aren't I lucky." You drawl sarcastically, a laugh being shared within the group as you shake your head, "No, you think those two would let me give them your gift? They said they'll give it to you tomorrow when you take them out. Hiko was upset when I left him with his Grandpapa Riku, though. He had this cute little scowl." Your three friends laugh, imagining their nephew in their heads. You flicker your attention over to the person who was watching you interact with the others with amusement, you smile at him politely. "I'm sorry. How rude of me."

"Oh, right!" Shizuma speaks as soon as your name slips out of your mouth to introduce yourself, holding out your hand for a shake which he grabs, "This is the friend I was talking about that can teach the boys volleyball."

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" He starts with a grin as he shakes your hand firmly, his enthusiasm infectious. Releasing his grip on your hand, he sends a little wave, "Bokuto Koutarou I'm a friend of Asuma's. Shizuma here was just telling me about your boys and how they were interested in volleyball and I wouldn't mind helping them out."

Asuma adds, "He's a professional volleyball player for Japan's V.League in Division 1. MSBY Black Jackals was it?"

You watch as the man who you thought kind of resembled a horned owl nod his head towards Asuma's direction, something about him oddly familiar. You hum along, eyes widening slightly at the information. "Professional? Wow, colour me impressed. Wouldn't you be too busy to train two six-year-olds, then?"

"I'll speak for everyone who knows her two boys that they're absolute devils," Reiji chuckles with a shake of his head, "Fast learners though. We'd teach them how to run like in Stride if we could but their mother over here refuses."

You scoff, "Because that sport can be dangerous!"

"Stride, huh?" Bokuto butts in, interested. "But yes, I have some time to teach. I'm sure they'll be okay. I owe Asuma anyway. I don't mind."

The corners of your mouth twitch to an unsure smile. You didn't know if you were going to go through with this if you were honest, but it isn't exactly something you can reject as your three other friends were present, and they would do anything for their favourite set of twins, spoiled rotten those two were.

"Don't worry," Shizuma claims, nudging you with his elbow as he gives you a reassuring smile, "They'll be in good hands, one of us will find the time to attend their little training. We're not as busy lately due to our little holiday anyway."

You hum softly as you continue to examine Bokuto under your gaze before something in your mind clicks, eyes widening ever so slightly. “I think I know you! Weren’t you at the Christmas Party last year that Reiji held?” 

He nods with a grin, “I was actually. Asuma invited me and I went along with a couple of friends. Funny how we’ve crossed paths before and yet we’re only meeting now, ay?”

“Ah, yeah. I think I remember now, sort of.” you laugh, nodding your head in agreement, “That party was crazy anyway. I don’t think anyone wants to remember that crazy night. Especially Reiji.” 

The man mentioned scoffs, rolling his eyes. “That’s why whenever I plan parties it’s never at my place anymore.” He shudders at the memory, “Drunk bastards doing the nasty at my place. And that model’s awful moaning could be heard even when the music was blasting.” 

You scrunch up your face in disgust, “Thankfully I left early then,”

An awkward laugh escapes Bokuto’s lips as he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “Yeah about that...” 

“That was you?” you and Asuma let out a gasp, eyes widening while Shizuma bursts out laughing. Reiji on the other hand, obviously not amused at the information. 

“Dude, what the heck!” Reiji exclaims, brows furrowing, “The least you could have done was choose a guest bedroom rather than on my own bed!” 

“Oy!” he laughs, holding his hands out, “I didn’t say it was me. I was just saying I know who it was. It was one of my friends, but I’d rather not say who.” 

Asuma joins his older brother Shizuma in laughing at the side while you try your best to calm down Reiji by tugging on his arm. “Anyway, Bokuto. I think we should talk about the schedule of your training with my boys. I’m sure they’ll be excited when they find out someone will be training them volleyball.”

Somehow, a part of you was screaming at you, telling you that this wasn't going to end well. Of course, you didn't realize at the time that you would come to regret such a decision, not like you had any say against it either. Your little boys were spoiled rotten and often got their way whether through innocent means or their sneaky tactics. It didn't help that their group of uncles were wrapped around their little fingers.

Ah, yes. You hadn't realized it yet, but it was the start of a roller coaster ride.

[twinrowcitizennews]

snapshot

Note from the editor:

This is the first letter of this nature that I’ve received from someone who wanted their question published. Other than editing for formatting and grammar, it’s in their own words and their own words alone. Please send an email or ask if you know how to solve their problem-- and quickly. 

I have to warn you, this letter isn’t for those who are put on edge easily. Reader discretion is advised. 

I don’t know if I’ll still be around by the time this is posted, but that doesn’t matter. So long as this reaches whoever might need it. 

I first saw it last October. The 27th, I think. Kind of cliché for this sort of thing to be happening right around Halloween, but truth is stranger than fiction. It was late in the evening, almost nighttime, when I saw this stray dog roaming around in my front yard. I grabbed my dog’s leash and went to get it, thinking I could keep it in my backyard until I could find the owners, but the second I left the front step, it started off towards the bike trail. I sped up to a jog and followed it, hoping not to scare it off any further. 

The bike trail veers away from the neighborhood and through this piece of undeveloped land that separates the suburbs from a nearby farm. The dog was mostly sticking to the path, moving along at a trot, stopping every once in a while to look over its shoulder and wag its tail, like it was waiting for me to catch up before starting off again. After a few minutes of this, I called for it-- tried to whistle, asked it to heel, etc. It came over when I pretended to have a treat in my hand, holding my fist out like there was something inside. When it leaned over to sniff, I clipped a leash on its collar, a simple fabric band without any tags or ID. I’d never seen the dog before, so I got out my phone and took a picture of it to post to the neighborhood Facebook page, asking if anyone knew its owner, before walking it back to my place and letting it out in the fenced back yard. After feeding my own dog, I sat down to check Facebook to see if there was any response. 

No one recognized the dog from the photo. One comment asked me who was standing in the background. 

There hadn’t been anyone else in the woods, as far as I remembered, but I double-checked the photo anyway. In the background, about 20 feet away, it looked like there was a figure-- vague, kind of person-shaped if you squinted-- standing just to the side of the bike path. It was all indistinct and fuzzy. Probably just a smudge on the lens. I responded to the comment before trying to clean off the lens on my shirt, then taking another photo down the hallway to see if the smudge was gone. There didn’t seem to be anything. The rest of the night was relatively normal. 

The next morning, I ended up trying to clear out my camera roll, to save some room for any pictures I might take of my baby cousins in their costumes. I deleted a bunch of screenshots, old photos, and the image of the dog, before going to delete the hallway picture. 

The smudge was still there. Like before, it was around 20 or so feet from where I’d been standing when I took the photo, around the size and height of a person. Unlike before, it was peering around the corner from the door to the bathroom. 

I was freaked out some, to be honest.  I scrubbed the lens down with a Lysol wipe and took another photo down the hallway, trying to prove to myself it was just some sort of shadow. Nothing that would show up in the daylight. And it didn’t-- nothing strange, no smudge, just a block of sunlight from the windows. I didn’t delete the picture from the night before, though. Just in case. 

It was a few more weeks before I took another nighttime photo. My cousins are too young to stay up late, so they’d been out trick-or-treating around 5:00 in the evening, back before it was even dark, so I didn’t really take anything on Halloween. The dog was returned to its owner a few days after, so nothing there, either. 

It was around the middle of November when I ended up catching it again. I was on a nighttime walk and passed the home of this older couple down the road who always put up their outdoor Christmas decorations about a month too early. I wanted to get a picture of the setup-- they had this new animatronic Santa, sitting on a throne and waving to the road. I can promise that no one else was in the yard. I used the flash (on accident, but still), and if someone was there, I would have seen them. When I got home, I sent the picture to a friend of mine for her to make fun of. She messaged back with a few laughing emojis before asking who took the photo.  

(ID: Two texts from my friend reading “lol” and “really who took it”. My response says “wdym?”. She responded with two texts saying “I see you in the background, genius” and “just vibing by the garage”. End ID.)

I checked the photo again. By the house’s garage, a little under 20 feet from where I’d been, was a clearer, more distinct figure. For once, I could make out its face. 

I don’t know who or what it is, or how it got there, but it definitely looked like me. It was even wearing my clothing, had its hair done the same way, everything. Just standing there and smiling for the photo, like someone just out of frame was telling it to say cheese, looking right into the camera. 

I immediately turned all the lights on that I could reach. I almost deleted the photo, staring at it for too long, before closing out of Photos and reopening my camera. I figured this had to be some weird hallucination or something I was making up, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. I aimed the camera down the hall and took a video. Nothing. I checked it, sliding the scrub bar back and forth to inspect each individual frame. All of them were just empty, illuminated hallway. That didn’t shake the feeling, though, so I turned the hall light off and tried again. Nothing showed up on this video, either. I took a photo. 

It was there. Again. It wasn’t peeking out from around anything, just standing in the middle of the hallway, the same distance it had been from the camera in the yard. 

I didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. 

I ended up searching the internet as much as I could for anyone with similar experiences. I saw things about ghosts, things about illusions, things about solid doppelgangers that people saw with their own eyes and not through pictures, but nothing like this. Over the weeks and months that followed, I took investigating into my own hands. 

My fears were quieted some-- some-- when, after the first few nights, I realized that it wasn’t hurting me. It never even moved, staying in the same poses each night. The only change was, no matter where I was, inside or outside, it was always the same distance away.

I started taking pictures almost obsessively. Every day, every night, I tried something new. I tried every condition I could think of to see when and where this thing would show up. It became a part of my routine-- almost a companion. I’d even jokingly wish it goodnight. 

I could put walls between myself and it. At one point, I stood inside my closet and took a picture, only showing racks of coats and clothes. It could be seen through windows, if there was no room for it to appear indoors. I could take pictures out my bedroom window to show it standing right there outside the window on the front walk. It always looked exactly like me, down to the smallest detail, except for the face. It never had any expression other than a smile. No matter where I was, inside or outside, it could be there. I got pictures of it at home, at work, out of town. It never showed up in well-lit photos. Things in the dark with flash were okay, but it would just be a little indistinct. Dimmer lighting, pictures taken at night, all of that was free game. I never got a picture of it in daylight. 

Around February, I sat down and tried to sort all the successful photos into one album to clear up my camera roll. At this point, it was mostly just pictures of the thing, since I was sometimes taking up to dozens a night. I deleted all the failures, saving all the pictures of it into one album. That’s when I noticed.

It was getting closer.

I guess I had ignored it over the first months. It had been too gradual for me to notice, only an inch or two each night, but looking at all the photos in order, it was obvious. Instead of being around 20 feet away, the thing was closer to 15, still just standing and smiling.

I had to tell myself it was coincidence, or something I was imagining, or I think I would’ve done something I’d regret later just then. Now that I knew it could move, I didn’t really think of it as a friend anymore. 

I kept taking pictures throughout the following months. Only at night. It stopped showing up outside my bedroom window-- in retrospect, probably because the ground wasn’t close enough for it anymore. It stopped lurking at the end of the hallway, drawing nearer until it was standing right there in the living room. It started putting its hands against the glass of the kitchen windows. Then it started showing up at the kitchen table. 

I got desperate, some. I tried everything. I burned incense, I tried to talk to it, I bought fucking crystals. I’m an atheist, but I even considered calling a priest or something. All spring, I was constantly scrambling to find some way to get that thing to leave, or at least stop moving. Every night I took more pictures, too many, before scrolling through my photo album with a looming sense of dread. Nothing worked. It kept coming, slowly, always dressed like me and always doing that smile. It got close enough that I could see the whites of its eyes. I almost wish I could say that there was something messed up about it, something that made it obviously inhuman or dead or anything, but there wasn’t. It was just me, just exactly like me, and somehow that was worse. 

I’m sending this in now because it’s really close and I don’t know how to make it go away or if that’s even an option anymore. These past few nights, it’s been right in front of me-- I could reach out and touch it, if it was solid. Hell, I could probably feel its breath, if it had that. I’ve been taking pictures every hour or so, sometimes every couple of minutes.

Last night, around the fifth or sixth picture I took, it wasn’t there. Just gone. I took a few more pictures, and it didn’t matter where I was, it just wasn’t there. I don’t know why I did it, but I turned the camera around to selfie mode and took a shot. 

That thing was standing right behind me.

One of its hands was hovering right over my shoulder, like it was about to touch me. I freaked out and took another picture. It hadn’t moved more than a hair. I turned all the lights on and haven’t slept. 

I’m not sleeping tonight. I’m not turning any of the lights off. It can’t get to me if the lights are on, or I hope so. If anyone knows what to do or what this thing is, please respond. It might already be too late, but I don’t know what this thing will do or who it’ll go for when it’s done with me. I don’t have much advice to give, other than to sleep with the fucking lights on.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

warning: suicidal thoughts

An anon sent me an ask but the content might be unsettling / triggering to some of you, so I wanted to put it under keep reading and you can choose for yourself if you want to read it or not.

Remember, I'm not a doctor. I probably need therapy way more than you (you're reading the smut, I'm writing it XD).

I'm just a person. But there was a time, long ago, when I wanted to scream into the abyss and I really wished the abyss could scream back.

It never did.

But this time is different, because this time someone chose me as their abyss and I'm choosing to scream back.

from anon:

What you write hits me so hard. The use of mental health is amazing and it makes me feel better to know someone else goes through this...but I wanna scream. I'm so alone. I don't want these thoughts anymore but its a weight I've had on me for weeks and I've nobody to talk to. Literally, no one. My friends have school in the morning, my parents don't want me to go downstairs. I'm in bed and I don't like this anymore.

I'm not expecting you to answer this post especially as its an anon one and you cannot privately answer because then it will have to be public and thats just an odd thing to have on your page but jesus... I needed to rant. I don't even know you and you don't know me.

But it hurts.

Everything fucking hurts and I don't wanna put up with it anymore. I will try my hardest not to end everything but its so fucking hard. I don't even know if I'm strong enough anymore.

I'll try not to.

I don't need to burden a stranger with my death....heh...

Sorry, I'll stop this stupid thing now.

Idk if I should even send this. Oh well...Imma do it anyway.

Also I hope you have an amazing day. You are a great human. :) Be Happy ~

Ah, where to begin.

All of my works have a part of me in them. There are bits and pieces of my story, my thoughts, my feelings, mixed with fiction. Even if you collected them all, you wouldn't know everything about me. I have avoided certain parts, deliberately been vague, chopped up and rewrote things.

You didn't come here for me. You came to read BTS smut (yeah, I see you, you ain't sneaky about it). You came to imagine choking on Jeon Jungkook's dick or getting fucked by Min Yoongi (or literally any other member; I'm just listing the two I write about most lol).

But I'm the writer.

And I can't help but put part of me in everything I write.

I know this feeling, the loneliness you speak of, even if you think I don't.

I don't know what it's like for you, but for me, it was always this way. Ever since I could remember, being surrounded by people and still feeling utterly alone was there. My childhood? Kinda shitty. The details don't matter - what matters is that the only solace I had was reading books. I read so fucking much when I was a kid, because I could not stand the loneliness that seemed eternal. I felt pain and I didn't know if it was because someone inflicted it upon me or if it was because I was doing it to myself, thinking that was what I deserved.

So I read.

And I started writing myself.

For me, this is solace. This is the place I can be anyone, anything, and I can create a world that is all mine. It is still lonely. Maybe even pathetic. Think about it, I'm literally writing porn about dudes in South Korea who don't know I exist and pretending they care about me (I'm aware that they don't). If they knew, at the very least they would be disappointed in me. Disgusted, or worse.

I've accepted I'm not a very good person.

But I also think that, maybe, just maybe, someone out there reading my stuff takes a pause and forgets about their worries, their fears, their sadness, and they feel 1% better. Maybe. I don't know. I'm not you. Maybe someone out there reads my stuff and they fall asleep dreaming about fucking BTS instead of being awake all night thinking about their pain.

Therapy? Mmm, a big stretch.

But it's something.

I'm not trying to save the world one BTS smut story at a time (LMAO what if that was my tagline tho). I'm just trying to work through my mind, my pain, and I'm posting it here. Maybe it helps you. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe you're only here to learn how to suck dick (I do write a lot of blowjob scenes, but honestly, it's practice XD).

The number of times I have typed and wanted to say something about myself to you, my readers, and then deleted it because I think, "nobody cares about you, they just care that you write porn."

It is reflected in this part of head+heart

“They’re taking so much from you... You keep giving. That’s dangerous. Their selfishness will hurt you. They’re think of you less and less as a person and more and more like a factory. They’ll treat you like a thing they’re entitled to and not like a human being with feelings.”

I'm not saying that's all of you. In fact, if you've read this far, it's definitely not you. But it exists. Not just me, but for BTS too. Anybody who is a creative goes through this feeling.

I am going to do what I continue to do. I won't pressure you into reading. I won't tell you how to live your life. I won't give you meaningless advice that you can't listen to right now because you're visiting the dark place and even good advice can get twisted there, morphed into something it's not because your mind is tricking you.

Life is cruel. Unfair things happen. You can't control it.

There are many paths in life. Everyone has good and bad in them. "Who said people are animals of wisdom? / For me, obviously, we are animals of regret." And yet. "There is nothing permanent in the world. / Everything is just a happening passing through." Happiness is not forever, but neither is pain. The you of right now is not permanent.

Living just to chase a perfect life will leave you unfulfilled. Living for the sake of living is harder. It seems meaningless. Happiness is so fleeting when pain is so crushing. Living to get hurt, living just to float along, living to constantly have to decide what is good and what is bad, only to figure out that the only person who can determine those things is you, because this is your life.

The only person who can live your life is you. You are the only person who can see your tomorrow. So, I ask you.

What if you live like that?

:)

[secondpubertyscene]

8.14.21

This year has been one of major change. In Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower, there’s this quote, “God is Change. Beware: God exists to shape and be shaped,” and I think for the first time since reading it, I get what was being said. While I subscribe to the idea that there is a higher power of some kind, I also believe that we (as in, us as individuals) have great power as well. That power lies in our ability to change, to grow, to persevere. This year has been one of major change, and we really have to talk about it.

It is easy to look at this last year and think, “Well, that fucking sucked” because frankly, it did indeed fucking suck. I could write you a list of things that brought me great pain this year, unbelievable, undeniable, unrelenting pain that still lingers now. But, see, the beauty of it all is that none of that pain happens in a vacuum. Along with the pain, I’ve come through it all with more wisdom, more compassion, more empathy, more gratitude, more peace, more love, and more confidence. I’d like to share how those things all are connected, but first I would like to acknowledge something.

While I don’t know for sure if this is just an American thing, it does seem very clear that Americans aren’t fantastic at processing grief, death, and pain collectively. We often are encouraged to suck it up, to shut up about it, to not make others uncomfortable with our tears and trauma. I believe this is in large part due to the fact that American Exceptionalism doesn’t quite allow us to acknowledge when our systems have failed us or when we are suffering in the “greatest country in the world.” I don’t intend on participating in that toxic positivity or to dismiss the seriousness of the year past. I simply intend on acknowledging the nuances of my experiences, the complexity of it all. Now, let’s begin.

Without recounting every moment in large detail (in part because that would be far too much and also because I don’t need to relieve my traumas today), the events of the last year have been as follows: 1) COVID hit, 2) I had a severe emotional breakdown that resulted in a short stay at the hospital, 3) my grandma passed away, 4) I broke up with my partner of a year, 5) I was officially diagnosed with adult ADHD (inattentive), 6) I got into a PhD program for sociology (fully-funded), and 7) I moved to Ohio (two weeks ago now). So much happened in what feels like a blink of an eye. When you’re a kid, you think a year lasts forever. Now, a year feels like a couple months!

Anyhow, all of these things had super intense negative impacts on my life and most of them had super intense positive impacts on my life. Let’s talk about how. I won’t say that COVID had any “positive” impact on my life, because it’s still currently making things difficult and it is still destroying lives (full worlds) every day. The emotional breakdown that I experienced shortly after COVID began, however, was the impetus for some of the greatest change I would ever make in my life. It began with new therapy, medication for the first time ever to treat my mental illnesses, and a new relationship with boundaries.

Out of this breakdown, I came to realize a few things. 1) I wasn’t really feeling most of my life up until that point. That isn’t to say that I didn’t feel at all or that I wasn’t aware of my feelings all the time, but to say that most of the time, I numbed everything out that was too hard to bear. I didn’t cry, I didn’t write, I didn’t even take the time to try to identify exactly what emotions I did feel. I just lived through it and waited until I felt better. Or, I would breakdown with rage and then feel better. Therapy, especially the group therapy I participated in for a couple weeks after leaving the hospital, changed that in huge ways for me.

Because I was able to sit in my pain, in my discomfort, I was able to actually work through some of my issues. I began to identify the areas in my life that made me genuinely unhappy and began to grant myself permission to feel disappointment. I granted myself the permission to expect more, to want more. I granted myself the permission to set boundaries without guilt or shame. I granted myself freedom. It is an ongoing journey of mistakes and back-peddling and trying again, but it is mine and I am proud of it. Had I not had that breakdown, I don’t know that I would be where I am now.

My grandma dying is one of the most painful things I’ve experienced and honestly, I haven’t dealt with it all the way yet. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her in person, I still am battling the feelings of guilt despite knowing that there likely was nothing I could have done, and my chest still feels heavy thinking about her. Even as I write this, I feel that pain. I know she is not truly gone and that she lives within me, but oh, I do miss her physical presence. The nagging, the phone calls, the hugs, the cooking, her soft hair and beautiful hands. I miss her. Because of her, though, I have been able to rehabilitate another relationship in my life. The relationship I share with my mother.

My mother is a lot of things, but for whatever reason I continually forgot that she too is a victim of hardship brought on by nothing but sheer luck. In this last year, she lost her mother, the man that she loved, multiple cousins, friends that went back to childhood, and who knows who else. She suffered a lot this year and she has suffered a lot over the course of her 61 years of life overall. For the first time, I have been able to really acknowledge her as a full being with a complex history and understand her as a person, rather than just as a parent. I’ve set new boundaries with her as a result, boundaries that have completely change the dynamic of our relationship and will continue to do so as we both learn more about each other. Gone are the days where she relies solely on me for emotional support or financial support. Gone are the days where she feels comfortable talking down to me and then expecting any kind of favors from me. She understands and respects that I am an adult, that I am independent, and that I can terminate our relationship should it get to a point where I feel unsafe again. While this might sound like a threat or even negative, it is in fact quite the contrary.

We now share the belief that I deserve better from her and that my continued relationship with her is founded upon our mutual growth. That’s a beautiful thing that arose from us being pulled together by the loss of someone we both loved more than we maybe even loved ourselves. Thankfully, though, I have come to love myself more than anyone else on this planet. This newfound self-love and respect resulted in the severing of my relationship with my partner.

I won’t pretend like my ex was this horrible person because she wasn’t. She was kind, loving, intelligent, hilarious, unique, complex, and so many other amazing things. I still love her with all of my heart and have thought about her every single day since we broke up. It is not for lack of love that our relationship came to a close. The issue was that I needed more than what she could give. I needed someone who could really sit in my shit with me without invalidating my feelings jokingly because they didn’t know what else to say. I needed someone who could make me feel safe and secure, not fearful and insecure. I needed someone who understood boundaries as openings for futures, not closed doors. I needed someone who could show up for me the way I showed up for them, even when they hurt me, even when they lied out of fear. She wasn’t able to do that. She wasn’t able to stick beside me during the worst days of my life. She wasn’t able to see me beyond our relationship. When my grandma passed and our relationship was on the rocks, she made it about us. She didn’t stop pestering me about our relationship for long enough to give me support on losing someone who meant the world to me. I couldn’t trust her after that and I also realized, I wasn’t required to.

Boundaries in that relationship weren’t healthy. I felt unseen, unprotected, and sometimes even unloved. While I am sure that she has grown even more since we have parted, the reality is that when I ended things, I knew that doing so was the most fair thing I could do for the both of us. This is because I deserve someone who sees my value inherently. I deserve someone who takes the time to understand me, to love me, to see me. Not just see me and them together, but me as an individual separate from them. More importantly, I needed to be able to ask for those things without feeling guilty or bad. As of now, I still don’t know that she sees me as me, as a singular person, and maybe she never will. That is okay. I still love her anyway. I just love me more now. As a part of that love I’ve grown for myself, I also now have sought out more help for myself. This seeking of resources led me to realizing that I was ADHD and helped me change my life.

Being diagnosed with ADHD at 21 felt absolutely ridiculous. How could I be ADHD when I can sit still most of the time and have a pretty decent amount of impulse control? The answers came from my psychiatrist, breaking down the stereotypical understanding of ADHD and allowing me to find myself within the diagnosis. Finding the right combination of medication has been difficult, but what hasn’t been hard at all is finding more resources that help me manage my symptoms. It’s because of some of these resources that I am able to sit here and write this.

A huge part of ADHD is this perfectionist mentality that makes it nearly impossible to start or complete some tasks. Every time I sat down to write in the past, I told myself that I absolutely had to write every single day, once a day, or I should just not do it. When it came to this blog especially, I had so much shame when I failed to post for a long time or had a lull, that I would either consider deleting the whole thing to start over, or just never posting again. I realize now that those were just cop outs for my brain, that I can write as little or as much as I want because it is for ME. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it doesn’t have to be anything but what I need it to be. Waiting for perfection would have me waiting forever because it’s simply not how my brain works. Accepting that is a large part of how I got into my PhD program.

I’m not going to lie. I am still trying to figure out all of the feelings I have regarding this PhD program. I am shocked that I got in, shocked that I got full-funding, shocked that I am now in Ohio, shocked that I am in my own apartment, and overall shocked that I’ve made it this far in general. While I do not believe that I am stupid or not capable of greatness, I am realizing that I’ve always seen myself pursuing something more straightforward. When I was younger, I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted to do even as those things changed. I knew what was required of me, I knew what I would ultimately do, and I took refuge in that. Doctors go to medical school. Chefs go to culinary school. Forensic anthropologists get masters degrees and do field work. It felt clear cut, straightforward, safe. This is uncharted territory. What do you do post PhD? What do you do DURING PhD years? I suppose I’ll just have to find out!

Anyhow, this year has been intense. Change is always present in our lives and sometimes it brings with gifts that we can only receive when we’re healed enough to take them. I’m hoping to keep healing, keep growing, keep loving, and keep going. I’m learning so much about myself and about the world. I’m loving myself more than I have in the past. I am incredibly proud of where I am. And I’m not done yet.

[infearandfaith777]

lil thang i wrote

Long post ahead y’all but who knows maybe you’re getting a preview to what will someday be a successful blogging or writing career and you’ll be glad that you knew me before i blew up the internet with my offensive views 🤪 lol just kidding i know I’m not that important haha!!

Over the course of the next few days I’m going to be posting all the photos that im always forgetting to post bc im deactivating my Facebook for the foreseeable future, and i would like to have my mass amount of backed up photos on here. Social media is a huge time sucking vortex for me in this stage of my life. It always has been (I’ve been in big tech’s clutches since i was in the 6th grade, i consider us all to be little lab rats of the ongoing social media experiment) I’ve been making a real effort to work on it the last few years. I’ve made progress, I’m just not seeing the full fruit and i know that it’s because I’m 1) stubborn and sinful 2) i choose my wants over what I know is right. I guess those are the same thing 🤪 My oh my, it’s so easy to slip. My biggest step for this year was deleting my Instagram a few months ago. i lied to myself when i said that it wouldn’t be a big deal to have the Facebook app on my phone since I’m not a fan of the layout/platform anyways. but what I’ve found is that slowly but surely, the time that i would’ve spent on Instagram is now being spent on here 🤷‍♀️ oy vey.

I know myself well enough to know that my self control when it comes to social media is an absolute mess, it doesn’t matter how hard i try. I keep failing at meeting my goal for how to spend my time online and I’m over it. for some people their social media usage/consumption isn’t a big deal because they know their limits and they’re mature enough to handle it but I’m not and it’s okay to admit that. we’ve built an attractive idol in the shape of a little square box of light and quite frankly I’m sick of mine. I don’t want to miss any of the beautiful season of life that I’m in. Socials aren’t adding to anything for me right now, as much as I’d like for them to and try for them to. They’re taking from me. Who knows, they’re likely taking from some of you too but we don’t usually question it because our culture is so addicted and it seems unrealistic to think of real life without an online life on the side.

time is God given, and short, and i want to steward mine well. Now, I have to clarify that I’m not bashing social media or it’s users. It might not seem like it from everything I’ve said thus far but I love social media. Really, truly i do. & that’s the heart of the problem, is that sometimes i fear that i love it more than i love God. It’s hard for me to be in the word sometimes, yet i have no problem hopping online and seeing what’s poppin. That’s messed up. I love the brilliance of everything at our fingertips. I love what it can be. But I hate what it often and usually is. it’s designed to keep you scrolling & i of all people understand the incredible difficulty in finding balance. They feed on our sinful desire for constant and instant gratification. Despite the coding, the use of the tool itself is a neutral party. It’s up to us how we use it, whether that be good or bad lies in our hands. Literally, your phone lies in your hands.

So what do you choose to do with it?

If you could see God sitting beside you watching what you’re looking at (which He IS but you know what i mean, if He was literally visible to your eye staring at the screen) would you at any point be ashamed of what you’re doing on your phone? I know there’s times that i would be.

How much time do you spend on it?

Can you answer those questions honestly and be at peace with the answer? If you can, great! 🤠

But if you’re like most of us and maybe less than pleased with your time usage or what you’re doing/looking at online, then what are some real changes you can make?

Is there something else could you be dedicating your time to? Something you always say you “don’t have enough time” for even though you have plenty of time to be online??? 🤔

Do you think you could limit your consumption if you tried or is the urge to scroll too powerful?

We could all stand to ask ourselves these things from time to time..

Im cutting off what I know is a sin for me. It might not be for you and that’s awesome. Either way we should be talking more about how social media has affected our society.

Maybe with a long hiatus, and a lot of prayer, God will help me to learn how to use my social media the way that i know i should. wisely, with MUCH greater self control, and always for His glory. 🤍

Colossians 3:17, ESV: "And whatever you do, in word or deed, do EVERYTHING in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."

(emphasis added)

Proverbs 15:3

The eyes of the Lord are in every place,

Watching the evil and the good.

Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. Keep your mouth free of perversity; keep corrupt talk far from your lips. Let your eyes look straight ahead; fix your gaze directly before you. Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways. Do not turn to the right or the left; keep your foot from evil (Proverbs 4:23-27)

“The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!

Matthew 6:22-23

“Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways.”

Psalm 119:37

“But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”

1 Corinthians 9:27

[nangbaby]

Have you possibly considered that being entitled to people’s time and energy is toxic? Or have you though about the fact that expecting people to exempt you from their boundaries might actually be harmful to others? Have your considered that your world view is not universal and other people see different meaning in actions depending on their own personal experience? To me, your opinions on blocking are extremely triggering. You are comparing getting blocked to people wanting you personally to stop existing and referencing suicide. Can you imagine how that opinion would hurt and exclude people who experience these things? Expecting a public space to revolve fully around your opinions excludes literally everyone who disagrees with you.

Have you ever thought people calling my desire to speak and be heard like them an "entitlement" just casual everyday bigotry I hear ("They always act entitled to something, pushing things down our throats.") and dislike?

You don't have to listen, but that doesn't mean you should segregate. You act as if me saying something triggers you when as a listener, it is your responsibility to choose to reply or not reply. Like a person complaining, you can choose not to join in but not shut them down.

If your boundaries mean I can't use the same public restroom as you and your friends, eat at the same restaurant, or occupy the same public space, then your boundaries need to be shut down. Your boundaries are not an excuse to discriminate, and if you are discriminating with your boundaries then you shouldn't have them.

There are plenty of people who believe I'm subhuman but that doesn't mean that I should be treated any differently because of their beliefs. If your belief is treating one random person with more respect than another, then it's hierarchical hate.

You mention that my views are triggering for you, then imply that I'm not capable of feeling any pain or hurt or fear because I don't allegedly feel the same way as you do. Never mind that I deleted nearly all of my blog posts mid-2015 beforehand because someone claiming "triggers" nearly bullies me to the point of non-existence. Never mind that to anyone who has blocked me that if I were to kill myself it would be no different than if they have blocked me as they wouldn't care and they would be correct that no one cares about me. Never mind my pain but I'm not encouraged to express it because of how it will make you feel.

That's the problem right there. Only certain people are allowed to express pain and find support in it, while others are shunned by it. If my complaint trigger other people, then their complaints trigger me. But if their complaints are valid then so are mine.

All I desire is to be treated as a person the same way as anyone else. That shouldn't be so hard.

[kevv]

a goodbye letter- abandoning current social media

i'm not the best at writing out my thoughts. forgive me if this feels scrambled and scraped together. my best friend, Fox, once said in abridged words; "it takes two to play out an abandonment fantasy, one to have it, and the other to follow suit".

i've known several handfuls of people who fear abandonment, or more specifically, being the one abandoned; scared that one day everyone in their life will take leave. and sometimes, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, they do. they leave in mass exodus, set into motion by one person who wants to set-forth their own abandonment fantasy– abandoning everyone else.

for me, my own fear of abandonment is not anyone abandoning me, i'm unbothered by people entering my life and leaving of their own accord; i'm scared i'll be the one to abandon everyone in my life. because i have. several times. i still do, even. i'll meet people in my lifetime that i loved harder than the universe itself, a deep love so terrifying i feel that it'll demolish cities and townships, friends and lovers and found-family. my skin will buzz and blaze alight with such an intense fear, a fear that i will ruin them and everything they are so i must run. it's unfounded, but it drives me away, and i fight tooth and nail to get to that escape route for those who won't let me leave quietly, until it ends in disaster. it's my own abandonment fantasy. i recall once, an ex-lover wanted me to stay. tried to lock the door and toss away the key, and said it hurt that i wanted an out. so i caused problems until i could break out through the window. not being allowed an option to leave made me feel like a feral, caged animal; because in the end, that's all i am. i hadn't done it on purpose. the need to escape everything had been there months prior. the events leading up to it had been fuzzy at best, sickly at worst, and i had been spoonfed misinformation. not on purpose, not in malicious intent, but still it struck genuine fear in my heart. like a feral animal, i want the option to roam. to come and go as i please. i can't be kept, i just want the trust that i'll find my way back eventually. if i feel contained, i scratch and bite until i'm released. but if you hold out your hand and wait patiently, i'll come to you. but don't ask me to stay. please don't ask me to stay. there's a lot that lead up to this current migration. the inability to be allowed to stand on my own two-feet and exist as just purely Kevin, not adjacent to someone, was a big one. still to this day i am asked about a youtuber i am no longer affiliated with by my own choice. i don't like attention, it's something i've said to her, said to many, and why i chose to never appear in her videos. which seems contradictory for an artist who posts on social media and previously did all of her older channel art. but maybe now i'm realizing that truthfully, i wanted recognition for me, not for others or for who i made myself sick in order to create content for. it's inescapable. i harbor no hard feelings anymore, i understand i was in the peak of my codependency and was willing to ruin myself for the benefit of another. to run myself broke and dry because at 19 years old i was still a child who didn't know how to handle the extent of his emotions. i want to apologize to penny. neither of us are really blameless, but we were inexperienced and young– still young. it's easy to not know what we're doing, to unintentionally take advantage of someone who was willing to burn themselves to give you warmth, or to latch onto an unfounded rumor and bare my teeth. i hope you're doing well, and i'm sorry. i'd like to give you a proper apology one day, when i'm more ready. that day is not today. sometimes i feel like there are four people living inside my brain, all with dissenting opinions and voices that i can't tell who i am anymore. i feel like i'm constantly contradicting myself because i don't know what my own thoughts are. i don't know who i am anymore. i don't know who i am anymore because i'm several different people all trying to be "kevin", all with different beliefs that go against a previous one. i prematurely deleted my twitter account for this reason, i couldn't stand a second more of being in a toxicity cycle i had previously taken part in, because sometimes that's all social media is. it's very... Online. i want to be one, unified person. whose thoughts and feelings are unadulterated by others surrounding him. additionally, there's the elephant in the room. some have already guessed it, suspected it, saw something like it coming from miles away. but for others who have known me for the past decade, it might be a surprise. someone once told me that words have power, and while at the time i disagreed, i'm starting to understand what she meant now. i've been afraid to speak it into existence, because it means it's real, and coming to terms with this unavoidable truth is a terrifying experience, one i need to face and stop running away from. 

i'm detransitioning. giving life to this phrase doesn't make me feel any better. words have power, and that power is to make me crumble and break. since as early as 4 years old, i felt as if i was born a boy who was just being raised as a girl. at 12 was when i learned about and started identifying as transgender. at 18 i legally changed my name. for a decade, i lived as a transgender man. i've mentioned this before, but i'm intersex. i have an androgen insensitivity syndrome. what this means is that androgens, male sex hormones, have no effect on me. they instantly are reconverted back into estrogen by my body. this has been a reoccurring nightmare of mine since i was 14, and having it become my reality is.. heartbreaking, to say the least, crushing a lifetime of dreams and wishes. i've tried testosterone, self-medicated in my teen years, and "officially" more recently. it has no effect on me. a friend of mine says i shouldn't give up hope until i properly see an endocrinologist about HRT, but the reality is– i know my body, and i know my condition. i don't grow body hair, and my body cannot masculinize. these are unavoidable truths. i don't need to spend hundreds of dollars to be told what i already know. HRT will not affect me; i will never be able to transition. any attempt will become a scientific study in which i'm a guinea pig. i don't want that. i will never pass for male. my voice is high, my body is undoubtably female, my face is feminine, and i'm 4'11". it's disheartening and i've shed many tears over it. for what feels like my whole life, i've longed for SRS/GRS, top surgery, a deeper voice, and a couple inches of height. i ache for body hair, masculine fat redistribution, and male pattern baldness. all the good and the bad associated with testosterone is what i so desperately yearn for with such a soul-crushing depravity. i am genuinely heartbroken. maybe it's my punishment for all the bad things i've believed in or done. it's what i'd deserve, i guess. this punishment. it is for those reasons that i feel like i can no longer find comfort in identifying as ftm, to struggle seeing myself as a man. it's crazy, i've referred to myself as male since early childhood, and now that i'm coming to terms with my intersex condition am i feeling wrong in every conceivably way of identity. truthfully, i don't even identify as anything anymore. i'm not nonbinary, cis, or i guess trans. i feel as if i just exist. i just am. you can still call me kevin. it's my name, my legal name– which i love to point out. i'm not changing it. it's the first time i made a decision purely for myself, and went through with it. i love my name. i don't think i will love anything about myself quite like my name. i chose it when i was 12, it was my first choice. i never wanted another name. i still don't. but i like nicknames, particularly kitty and K-K. you can call me those too. these have always been options available. i reiterate– i really like being called nicknames. (: you can still use male pronouns for me. i never minded being "misgendered" because, well, i never passed, and i made peace with that years and years ago. while being called she/her or otherwise will probably always leave a stale taste in my mouth, i've learned to accept the reality of what i am a long time ago. biologically female. you can still use male identifiers for me, like husband or boyfriend or whatever other male terms there are...... actually you'll have to pry those out of my cold dead hands. i will not accept being called a "girlfriend" i will literally go feral and foam at the mouth and bite your ankles until you take it back. there's comfort in these things that i'm not ready to let go of, and frankly, i don't think i'll ever feel ready to. moving forward, i don't really know what i'm going to do. right now i'm taking a break from the internet, so i can soul-search and truly find myself, in all senses of the word and every iteration that it can be built upon. i'll make a new twitter account when i'm ready to, probably. there's a lot more i want to say, to add onto this in addendum, and pour so much of myself into this until it spills out the sides and trickles down into tiny cracks. but truthfully, i don't know how to say it. i don't know its relevancy to this eulogy of an account, and quite honestly, there are still some things i can't find myself able to say. to speak into existence. to give power to those words. admitting aloud to a 6-year long love that burnt like candles catching a home on fire was intense enough (hi Charlotte it's you, it's you and it's always been you and everyone knows this). so maybe i'd rather keep some things to myself, perhaps. preferably. so i guess that's it. i've bared my heart and soul and skin and bones to whoever will read this piece of myself. it's the end to katidoj, one that's been a longtime coming. i've never been very good at staying in one place for very long. please take care, i love you. and i'll miss you. a piece of my heart left with you, here buried deep in this account. (pressing the submit button has never been so hard in my life.)

[chelledoggo]

Coming Clean

The past few days for me have been...eventful, to say the least.

But it's a new day, I've cooled down from the panic, and am ready to make my final, no-BS statement on this whole controversy. I feel like it needs to be done, and a few tweets on the subject isn't enough.

CW: Transphobia, Ableism, Suicide, Anxiety, Panic attacks, Depression, Rape and Murder mentions

On Sunday, July 12, 2020, I made a meme and posted it to Twitter. Essentially, the meme was comparing issues of mainstream trans and nonbinary people (being killed, being raped, being made fun of, being denied health care under Trump, etc...) to the online xenogender community, a community which I had not previously properly educated myself on.

Xenogenders, as I understand now, are gender identities that are used by some people, typically neurodivergent people, because they feel that these terms describe their gender identity better than the predetermined labels that are more commonly used. (cis, trans, nonbinary, agender, genderqueer, etc.) These identities are often based on unconventional factors, such as aesthetics, creatures, mythical beings, natural phenomena, and so on, and often use pronouns specially coined to compliment them.

In the meme, I depicted a very unflattering stereotype of xenogender youth, and used some tasteless terminology to describe how they present their developed gender identity to the world.

I won't bullshit you anymore. Here is the meme. (CW for Transphobia and Ableism; Rape and Murder mentions)

I posted it to Twitter, closed out, and took a nap. I didn't expect much to come out of it except for a few likes and retweets. I was obviously very wrong.

When I woke up and pulled up Twitter again, I was greeted to my notifications being flooded with replies upset by what I'd posted. Many of them were calling me out for ableism and transphobia. Some of them were just flinging insults and mocking me for my age/appearance/etc. Some of them were just fancams.

I'd finally seen the true impact of my actions.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a fear of angering others or becoming hateful and ignorant. I would never want to intentionally hurt innocent people, especially those of marginalized groups such as the trans and nonbinary communities. And as someone who is neurodivergent herself, I certainly wouldn't want to be willfully ableist. I've faced ableism in one form or another for my entire life.

People could also tell you that for pretty much my entire life, I've suffered with mental illnesses. I've been professionally diagnosed with depression, anxiety disorder, PTSD, and bipolar disorder. As such, I'm prone to panic attacks, outbursts, and suicidal ideation when under extreme distress.

As soon as I saw all the anger and hurt I'd caused, I started spiraling into a severe panic attack. I didn't realize how much this meant to a lot of people. A lot of young, neurodivergent people.

I felt like the scum of the earth. I fucked up, just like I've fucked up and made people hate me so many times before in the past. This is my life. Acting without thinking, and then unintentionally hurting people.

I immediately deleted the tweet and made an admittedly hasty apology.

When I'm in this state, however, I don't think clearly. My immediate reaction was that I was just too much of a fuck-up to go on living. I made a tweet saying I wanted to kill myself without any thought as to how that might be interpreted as guilt-tripping after I fucked up instead of taking responsibility.

Again, I was called out on it. So I deleted my suicidal tweets, too.

I then started posting tweet after tweet after tweet claiming that I was sorry and wanted to “be better.” But this barrage of tweets, as sincere as I thought they were at the time, came off as shallow damage control.

Once again, I was called out on this.

The next day, I tried once again to make a no-bullshit apology. I stated in plain english that I was indeed transphobic, ableist, and 100% in the wrong to make that meme, and that, while I still didn't fully understand xenogender identities, I would be respectful of them from now on.

There were plenty of people who were glad I apologized and learned from my mistakes, and I honestly felt a lot better for it.

I was hoping this would just be a fresh start, and things could slowly go back to normal for me and my friends.

However, there were also people angry at me for “bending the knee,” as they put it. I hid their replies to my apology because some of them (not all of them) were friends of mine, and I didn't want them getting attacked.

Some of my friends took this as “throwing them under the bus,” and were angry at me for it. A few of them decided they didn't want to be my friends anymore.

My friends, whether I agree with them on everything or not, mean a lot to me. They are really the only emotional support I have. I suffer from abandonment issues and my mental illness symptoms spike whenever I lose people I consider close friends.

So I lashed out at them for not respecting my decisions. I felt like they didn't really care about my mental health or my emotional wellbeing. I was hurt. Hurt just like I hurt everyone with the meme that started this whole nightmare.

I then, once again, started posting suicidal tweets. I talked about wanting to “chug a bottle of pills” and “go out like etika.” I actually attempted to strangle myself with a bathrobe belt. But, of course, I'm an all-talk-no-action coward when it comes to suicide.

After this, something just kind of fizzled out inside of me. I came to the conclusion that as much as I wanted to just make everyone happy, I couldn't. I couldn't make everyone believe that I was sorry, and I couldn't make everyone stop seeing me as just someone who wanted to “bend the knee” to avoid backlash.

So I was done. I gave up. I didn't care anymore. I was numb.

I made one last series of tweets stating just that, announced I was taking a break from twitter to heal, privated my account, and left. (I also made a tweet asking for people to report the person who screenshotted my meme and got people on me, but then I got called out for targeting a minor, and deleted this tweet as well.)

That brings us to right now.

I decided that I needed to really sit down, gather up all my thoughts, and recount the entire series of events. I just want everything that happened, including my words and actions, to be understood.

I'm not a bad person. I'm not an ableist or a transphobe. But I am a human. A human who makes mistakes. And when I make mistakes, I want to learn and do right by the people I've hurt.

I'm also a person with an extremely fragile mental and emotional state. A person who doesn't think clearly under pressure. A person who's had to put up with a lifetime of feeling like a failure who should honestly just cease to exist.

The bottom line here is this: I've gone through the suffering that I needed to go through. I realized the consequences of my ignorance. I've tried and am still trying my best to do right by everyone. I need to get this thing off my chest, confess to my sins, and finally let this whole thing go. So I can heal. So that everyone I hurt and everyone who got caught up in this can heal.

I would be lying if I said I completely understood xenogenders at this point. I probably never will. But I don't need to understand. I just need to be respectful. Because at the end of the day, no one's hurting anyone by identifying with a xenogender identity. They're just people trying to find themselves, just like I am. Who the hell am I to put them down? I'm neurodivergent. I've been young. I should know better.

I sincerely apologize to the xenogender community, to the LGBT+ community, to my friends, and to everyone that got caught up in this.

I love you all.

TL;DR: Made a shitty meme. Didn't do my research on xenogenders. Was ableist/transphobic. Had a severe mental health breakdown. Alienated everyone. Am genuinely sorry.

NOTE: At the time of posting this, my Twitter is still on private, and I’m afraid to unprivate it just yet. I would appreciate it if my friends could share this so it can get out there.

[hexmione]

Ronmione Missing Moment

A/N: During quarantine I’ve been brewing up some Ronmione ideas. I’m currently rereading Order of The Phoenix and I’ve recently watched Chamber of Secrets. I’ve thought of a little missing moment. This is my first REAL Ronmione oneshot. I might’ve differed from the books a bit, but I hope you enjoy!

A/N pt2: A/N: You might be thinking, “Hey, I’ve seen this!” If you’ve seen this, it was probably on my other blog @gryyffindork​. I deleted most of my writing on that account and moved it onto this account!

Summary: After the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Ron finds himself in the same place he was three years prior… at Hermione’s bedside.

Word Count: 1,634

Date Posted: june 12th, 2020

Date Reposted: August 26th, 2020

*gif not mine!*

—

They were still in the Department of Mysteries. Why the hell were they still in the Department of Mysteries? Where was the Order? Where was Hermione?

The thought of Hermione brought him back to life. Ron looked around wildly for Hermione, but then he saw her. He watched in horror as a jet of green light was released from Dolohov’s wand, “Hermione!” he yelled.

Ron quickly sat up in his hospital bed. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He spun around quickly and muffled a groan of pain. He looked down at his arms, and everything came flooding back to him:  

Sirius

The Department of Mysteries

The brains

The Order

Death Eaters

Harry, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Hermione

Hermione

Hermione

Hermione

Her name ran through his mind like a silent prayer. He finally caught sight of her in her hospital bed and let out a shaky breath. Neville, Luna, Harry, and Ginny had left the hospital wing earlier that morning, the only beds that were occupied were his and Hermione’s.

Hermione hadn’t woken up yet. Madame Pomfrey assured him that she would wake up soon, “She’s a fighter, Mr. Weasley. She just needs to recover,” She had said. He had given her a weak smile as he allowed her to apply the cold cream and bandages to his arms.

Ron looked around for any sign of Madame Pomfrey before slowly swinging his legs over his bed. He sucked in a breath as his feet touched the cold floor. His arms were burning, but he didn’t care, he needed to be with Hermione.

As he sat on the wooden chair next to her bed, he held back a sob. How could he have let this happen? How could he be so useless? He should’ve protected her. He swore that he would protect her.

Ron couldn’t help but think back to their second year. He had taken Harry’s invisibility cloak without telling him. He didn’t care. He needed to see Hermione. He remembered thinking that Hermione would’ve scolded him for wandering the castle after hours, but that was his Hermione.

His Hermione. When had Hermione become his?

Ron remembered speaking to her petrified self and holding back that same sob, “I’m so sorry Hermione. I know you can’t hear me, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for every foul thing I’ve ever said to you. I’m sorry for not protecting you. Harry and I, we need you. I need you,” he took a deep breath, “we’re going to save you, we’re going to find a way. You’re going to come back to me.” Ron remembered gripping her hand so hard, his knuckles almost turned white.

Ron fell asleep by her bedside that night. He expected McGonagall to be furious, but instead, she gave him a weak, thin-lipped smile, “Head to the Gryffindor Common Room, Mr.Weasley. I’m sure Mr. Potter is wondering where you are."

From then on, Ron had promised to himself that no matter what, he would always protect Hermione.

Now, almost three years later, he had broken that promise. As he sat next to her bedside, he slowly stroked her hair. They were no longer children, how could they be?

He finally felt the hot tears streaming down his face. He quickly wiped them away. Crying was not going to bring back Hermione.

He needed her to wake up. He wouldn’t be able to survive without her.

He took another deep breath, "Hermione?” He whispered, “please, I need you to wake up."

He watched anxiously, but there was no change. The only sound was her steady breathing.

"Please, Hermione,” he begged, the desperation in his voice becoming clear, “just open your eyes.  I’ll even read Hogwarts: A History."

He watched her anxiously once more. There was no movement, there was no sound.

Ron ran his fingers through his hair as he allowed the tears to spill out of his eyes once more. The pain in his arms was nothing compared to the slow burn that was filling his chest. How could he continue to fight without her?

Ron was thrown out of his thoughts as he heard a small groan come from Hermione’s bed. Ron quickly looked up and found two, dark brown eyes staring back at him.

"Hermione!” He exclaimed. She let out a small grunt of pain as she tried to sit up, “no, Hermione, let me.” He quickly grabbed a pillow from an empty bed and placed it behind her. She winced as she leaned back.

“Bloody hell, Hermione. Thank Merlin. I’ve been going mad, I was worried you were never going to wake up.”

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but she immediately winced, "Chest… hurts,” she stammered. Ron felt his spirits dim as he watched her face fill with pain.

“Do you want me to get Madame Pomfrey?” He asked hurriedly, already getting out of his seat.

Hermione pulled his arm down, “No, please… stay.” She whispered.

As Ron sat back down, she studied his face, “Were you crying?” She asked softly, as she wiped a fallen tear off his face.

Ron felt his ears go red, “I - well… maybe."

Hermione flashed him a soft smile, "Ron, I’m okay,” she paused for a moment, and Ron watched fear pass through her eyes, “The others? Are the others okay?” She said, gripping his hand tightly.

Ron hesitated for a moment, she had already gone through so much, how would she react to Sirius?

“Ron? What about the others?” Hermione said in a more demanding tone, which snapped him out of his thoughts once more.

Ron cleared his throat, “The others are all right. Neville, Harry, Luna, and Ginny left early this morning. I have to stay because of my stupid arms,” he said as he raised his bandaged arms.

“Oh Ron!” Hermione cried, “Is it painful? What happened? Are you alright?"

Ron chuckled, it was the first time he had laughed in days, "Relax, Hermione,” Ron looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling ashamed, “I don’t remember what happened. I went mad after I was hit by a spell. Ginny said that I summoned a brain and it attacked my arms and my chest. Madame Pomfrey says I’ll be okay, I’ll just have scars."

Before Hermione could respond, Ron let out a sigh, "I was completely useless, ‘Mione. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you."

"Ron! You’re not useless! You protected Ginny and Luna. You’re a hero, Ronald Weasley,” Hermione said, gripping his hand tighter than before.

He looked up and saw her struggling to catch her breath, “Hermione, I really should get Madame Pomfrey. You’re clearly in pain.”

“No,” she said, pulling him back down, “tell me the rest."

Ron swallowed, "The prophecy was smashed. The Order came and took the rest of the Death Eaters,” Ron continued to stroke her hair, “Bellatrix got away. You-Know-Who and Dumbledore fought."

"What about Sirius? Where was Sirius?” Hermione asked. Ron couldn’t bear to look at her.

“Sirius… well… he…” Ron felt his throat close up.

“Sirius what?” Hermione whispered. Ron couldn’t help but think that she already knew the answer.

Ron looked up at Hermione, her eyes already shining with tears, “No! He can’t be! What about Harry?"

"He’s trying to push through,” Ron answered, “He needs us."

Hermione nodded, "Ron,” she said softly, “can you lay with me?"

Ron looked at her in shock, he felt his heart flutter, "Um - yeah… sure."

Hermione moved over a bit on her bed, making a space big enough for Ron. Ron slowly slid next to her trying not to hurt her. Once Ron was settled in her bed, Hermione leaned against his chest. Ron wondered if she could hear how fast his heart was beating.

After a moment of silence, Ron spoke, "I dreamt that y-you died,” Ron stammered, his heart hammering at his confession.

Hermione turned her head to look at him, “I’m okay, Ron,” she grabbed one of his hands, “see?” She said as she placed his hand on her heart. Ron wondered if it normally beat that fast.

“Hermione, you have to promise me something,” Ron said shakily.

“Of course, what is it?"

"Promise me, that no matter what, we’ll never leave each other.”

“I won’t,” Hermione whispered, sounding breathless.

“Hermione, I mean it. I can’t do this without you,” the desperation in his voice coming back.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ron,” Hermione said, her nose was scarily close to his.

“Harry needs us. We’re going to need each other,” Ron said, his voice almost becoming as breathless as hers.

“We’re going to be there for him, and we’re going to be there for each other."

Ron nodded and looked down at Hermione. Hermione gave him another one of her fabulous smiles before kissing him on the corner of his mouth. Ron’s eyes widened in shock before he gave her a quick smile back. He returned the favor by giving her a quick peck on the corner of her mouth.

"Hermione, you need to rest,” Ron said with a yawn.

Hermione sighed, “Alright."

Ron moved to get off her bed but she stopped him, "Can you stay?” She asked, her eyes pleading.

It was Ron’s turn to give her a smile, “I’ll always stay."

As the pair drifted off the sleep, Ron gave Hermione a quick kiss on her head. He inhaled the scent of her hair as he fell asleep.

—

When Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall found Ron holding Hermione close to his chest as they slept, Professor McGonagall couldn’t help but remember that they had been there before. The same room, the same bed, the same girl, and the same boy.

It was then when Professor McGonagall realized that Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had a fate that was written in stone.

[tsukaramachi]

Valentine Dilemma (Yuuto x reader)

Ah the month of love or loneliness, February. The time where partners celebrate their love, the time when it’s the best chance to convey hidden feelings, and also the worst time to be alone. But for a young boy named Yuuto, it’s one of the most stressful things in his life. Not because he has to plan how to confess his feelings, but the dread that someone else might do it before him. After going online to look for inspiration on how to make the month special for (Y/N), he came across a thread that focused on valentines from the past. 

One person expressed their sorrow about them planning too much to the point that their surprise ended in vain when they found the person of their affection being confessed to by another. Sadly accepting the other person’s feelings and leaving the poster to spend a sad night alone. Another had planned too little and had been outdone by another with a more grand display of love. Someone else even ranted about how their love letter ended up in the wrong locker and having to deal with an awkward misunderstanding.

After spending a night filling his head with horrific and sad stories of unrequited love, the white haired boy’s head filled up with a thousand responsibilities on how his surprise could end up a failure.

A sigh left the boy’s lips as he twirled the light pink mechanical pencil in between his fingers. A clean sheet of paper in front of him, it mocked him with it’s blank state. Wanting to make a very special surprise for you, Yuuto had to leave right after school and sacrifice his time with you to come up for an idea for Valentine’s day. He had many ideas on what he could do, but the reason why he didn’t jot any of them down is due to the fear of them ending up a disaster. 

First, he came up with the idea of making you homemade chocolates. He thought it would be nice to decorate a big heart with different designs with the words “Will you be mine?” but the idea seemed too cliche. The idea had also made him flush a deep red for how embarrassing the idea was. So, he scrapped it and thought up of another. A date with just the both of you at the movies, it’s a casual idea and he thought it would be a good way to just be able to sit next to you. But the only available movies in theaters were…not really romantic. They’re anything but romantic and he wasn’t so sure on inviting you to a movie about a talking blue hedgehog. 

Making an album full of photos containing you was a good idea at first, but he realized that he had none of himself to pair with yours. He had only taken photos of you during school on his digital camera or phone, but only of you. He never took any of himself because he isn’t the most handsome guy. Also, whenever you would want to take a photo with him, the closeness of the both of you would make him blush and love around. Ruining the photo and him cropping himself out of it. He would never delete them though. You’re very photogenic and whatever picture he took of you came out amazing, but if he was in it… it would become blurred or it the camera had caught him making a weird face. While he would love another album full of your smiles, he knew that you wouldn’t really want an album full of just you without any friends or family.

Bringing you to a nice dinner was another, but he wasn’t sure on what restaurant to go to. Taking you to the local lookout to see the stars with you under the night sky was a close one. But when he had checked the weather forecast for the 14th, it was going to be too cloudy. Whatever idea he came up with, every single one of them had a flaw. So, he came up with a plan. Not wanting you to suspect him of anything. Yuuto decided to help out with the school’s Valentine’s day event to figure out the best gift for you.

——————————–

Walking into school, you sigh at the sight of the various red, pink, and white decorations that cover the halls. It’s your senior year and you’re still single. Hanging your head down low, you trudge across the floor. Where ever you look, students are carrying balloons, roses, stuffed animals, and even one kid is carrying around a giant poster with a blowed up picture of some girl.

As you go over to your locker, a small red card with the words “Happy Valentine’s day!” is scribbled across it, but you’re unfazed by it for how all the other lockers around you have the exact same card or something similar taped to their lockers. The same thing happens every year and you know this because it’s your senior year in high school. You experienced the same thing every Valentine’s Day and you even used to help out the student council by making some. cards for students.

Taking the piece of paper, you open it up to find it containing a valentines pun. It’s not really special so you toss it into your locker and you notice how empty it is. A gasp comes from your right, shifting your eyes to the right, a girl that looks to be younger than you has her hands up to her mouth.

A pile of cards is stacked inside her locker and a couple fall out from how unstable the stack it. A small pang of pain hits your heart as you envy her. Not because she got a lot of cards-well yes that’s one of the reasons, but also because of how she also received cards from her friends. As she closes her locker, you can see that it’s decorated with small post-it notes with cute small messages signed from her friends.

“Happy Valentine’s Day stinky >:)” and “You’re my butter half” with a drawing of a stick of butter cut in two are just a couple of the things you see on her locker. You find it sweet that her friends did that for her and it doesn’t mean that you don’t have friends. You just know that they’re lazy about doing stuff for the holiday, but it would’ve been nice to at least have a greeting from them. But you didn’t prepare anything special either so you can’t really complain.

You take your notebooks out for your classes for the day. When you close your locker, you turn to leave but you abruptly bump your head into a pink mass. Taking a step back, you rub your forehead to soothe the sore area. The thing, animal, or whoever it is waves their hands frantically. Trying to figure out whoever is in front of you. You take a step back to fully see who it is since they’re taller than you.

“Ha?” You furrow your brows at the thing before you. Someone dressed up in a pink bear suit holding heart shaped balloons.

The person tenses up and gives you a robotic wave. They seem nervous.

You wave back to them and excuse yourself as you awkwardly walk around them to go to your first class. While you focus on making your way through the obstacles of couples standing annoyingly in the middle of the hallway, the pink mascot watches you leave their vision.

Throughout the rest of the day, something strange keeps happening to you. Where ever you go, you would find that same pink bear. When you went to your first period. It was there to help with someone confessing their love by holding up a sign as a guy gave his crush a bouquet of roses. In your second period, it was handing out valentine’s day cards from anonymous senders addressed to their valentine’s. During your free period, you would find it peeking behind the corner and you could clearly see it. Everyone could, but some people would run up to it asking for its assistance in summing up the courage to confess to their special someone. While you were walking to your next class orto the bathroom, you could see it being dragged around the school. But every single time, it would always be looking at you.

When lunch came, you found out that that the bear was actually something the student council came up with. A mascot for the holiday to help promote events and students to express their feelings. Anyone could send in a request to ask for help from the pink friend. Some teachers who are married even had its help in sending gifts to their partners on the other side of the campus or to the office. You think I it’s a cute idea, but you’re more curious about who would take up such a role.

Running around the school in a big pink suit must be exhausting and it seems like only the same person is wearing the suit. Maybe one of the more athletic kids are doing it? They would be better suited to do such a thing, but you’re just guessing. It’s not one of the janitors since you could clearly see them going around the school fixing up decorations and brushing away excess confetti and trash littering the hallways. The members in the student council are certainly not it because they’re too busy doing the requests and there’s not that much for them. You do have hunch though as to whom it might be. You haven’t seen any of your close friends and you know that o e of them has a crush on one of the SC members. So you have a feeling that they might’ve offered their help. Which is nice of them, but it left you alone during lunch since your other friends seem to be missing as well.

——————————–

As everyone rushes to get home, you put away your things in your locker. While the day had been hectic, it was interesting to see the different surprises everyone did. Though you just wished that someone would’ve at least greeted you. Some teachers did, but they don’t count in your book.

Slamming your locker shut, you’re about to head out to leave but you once again find the pink mascot peeking over a corner while facing your direction. But instead of ducking out of view from you, they signal you to come closer. Feeling bored, you do so and walk over to it. They offer you their hand or paw, you aren’t sure since it looks just like a big mitten but you take it. As you’re led away, you’re taken to small random destinations throughout the school. The first spot is your homeroom. No one is inside, but on your desk is a small pink rabbit plush with a red ribbon tied around its neck.

The person in the costume walks over to it and hands it to you. You take it and give it a small squeeze. Its soft plush fur rubs against your cheek and it’s pleasant to the touch. You admire how cute and huggable it is, but the bear offers you their paw again. Now with a small stuffed animal in your other hand, you take their paw again to be led to another place.

In the cafeteria you found a big heart shaped sign with sweet messages from your friends. Near the girl’s bathroom, you found a gift basket with face masks, shampoos, scented candles, and other toiletries for you to use. In the hallway in front of your locker, a bouquet of pink, red, and white roses and carnations laid waiting for you. Everywhere you went, something was waiting for you and with every gift. You’re surprised everytime with something different. Cards, more stuffed animals, keychains, chocolates, and other gifts were scattered around the school waiting for you.

In the areas that had more people, they would actually not touch the gifts because a member from the student council would watch over it until you and the bear arrived. At one point there were too many gifts so the person in the suit had to bring over a red wagon so your arms would be free from the various gifts you received.

The last place you were lead to was the roof, which made you really surprised since no one is really allowed on the roof except staff and the janitors when they need to throw back down stray volleyballs and baseballs for the sports teams.

While you’re carefully lead to the side of the building facing the open free area in the middle of your school, the bear faces towards you. They take off the head of the costume, and you can’t really tell who it is. Panting heavily from exhaustion with fogged up goggles, a white surgical mask, and messy white hair in all directions. You try to hold in your laughter as the person struggles to take off the equipment. Their hair bad gotten tangled to their goggles and you had to help free them, but they would try and still you for some reason.

You persist in trying to take if off of them while they stutter over how sweaty they are and how you’ll feel icky after touching their hair. But you do it anyway. As you take off the surgical mask, you can see their lips had gotten a dry. Telling them to wait a moment, you take out a chap stick you got in one of the gifts that you received and put it over their lips. You smile as you hear them nervously stutter out a small “Thank you” When you take off their goggles, you can see the red ruby eyes you love so much.

White strands of hair cling to Yuuto’s face as you help wipe off the sweat that accumulated underneath his bangs all the while as a deep blush scatters across his cheeks.

“Ah I’m so sorry (Y/N)…” Yuuto says, you brush a strand of his hear behind his ear as you wipe the side of his cheek with a clean napkin, “I didn’t expect that to happen and I was going to take off all that stuff before hand before bringing you up here but uhm, I forgot to do it earlier…”

“What’re you apologizing for? I don’t mind helping you at all especially since you’ve been running around school all day. Also,” you pinch his cheek slightly, “You need to rely on others more! You’re crazy for not taking any breaks! I even saw you help the janitors clean up that huge chocolate cake that someone dropped in the hallway!”

“B-But they needed my help…and I couldn’t take a break!”

You quick a brow at his statement, “Hm and why is that?”

With a small sigh, Yuuto takes off the mittens covering his hands. Taking a hold of yours into his, “I-I wanted to make this day special for you, but I couldn’t come up with the right surprise for you…so I asked the student council if they could help me with any ideas and they proposed that I should be the helper mascot on Valentines day to get some inspiration. I got carried away though and no one else could do it so…”

“You got stuck in helping out all day?”

He let’s out a small nervous laugh, “Yeah…but you know. You mean so much to me and…” his hold tightens a bit, “And I have so much love for you but there’s not enough ways that I can express just how much you’re always on my mind. So I ordered a bunch of gifts for you and your friends helped me out too! Each place we visited, are places I have found memories of you (Y/N).”

You feel a bit confused, “But we went went through the whole school.”

“Ah haha… that’s because I got carried away. Every time I see you, hear your voice, and feel your touch is special to me. That’s why I took you all around the school and I even got extra gifts for you for all the people that I helped…but I want you to know that, I love you (Y/N)! You always cloud up my thoughts and I can never stop thinking about you and I-”

Before Yuuto finishes his sentence, you plant a kiss on his lips. It was quick, but it was enough to leave the boy left in awe and you smile.

“I’m thankful that you think of me that way, but next time don’t overwork yourself okay?”

“O-Okay, I promise!”

Yuuto engulfs you into a hug and you almost stumble over. You laugh as you feel him nuzzle his face into your neck, but you’re startled by the sound of cheering from down below. Looking towards the opening area, you can see other people cheering and your friends int he center giving you a thumbs up. You can see that a bunch of them have their phones out. They recorded the whole thing…

You can feel your cheeks heat up as you hide your face into Yuuto’s shoulder from the crowd. You feel embarrassed that that the whole exchange was recorded, but you’re also happy that someone would go this far for you.

[red-will]

I don't know what to do with good white people.

I've been surrounded by good white people my whole life. Good white people living in my neighborhood, who returned our dog when he got loose; good white teachers in elementary school who pushed books into my hands; good white professors at Stanford, a Bay Area bastion of goodwhiteness, who recommended me M.F.A. programs where I met good white writers, liberal enough for a Portlandia sketch.

I should be grateful for this. Who, in generations of my family, has ever been surrounded by so many good white people? My mother was born to sharecroppers in Louisiana; she used to measure her feet with a piece of string because they could not try on shoes in the store. She tells me of a white policeman who humiliated her mother by forcing her to empty her purse on the store counter just so he could watch her few coins spiral out.

Two summers ago, my mother showed me the welfare reports written about her family. The welfare officer, a white woman, observed my family with a careful, anthropological eye. She described the children, including my mother, as "nice and clean." She asked personal questions (did my grandmother have a boyfriend?) and wrote her findings in a detached tone. She wondered why my grandmother, an illiterate Black mother of nine living in the Jim Crow South, struggled to find a steady job. Maybe, she wrote in her loopy scrawl, my grandmother wasn't searching hard enough.

This faded report is the type of official document a historian might consult if he were re-constructing the story of my family. The author, this white welfare officer, writes as if she is an objective observer, but she tells a well-worn story of Black women who refuse to work and instead depend on welfare. Occasionally, her clinical tone breaks down. Once, she notes that my mother is pretty. She probably considered herself a good white person.

In the wake of the Darren Wilson non-indictment, I've only deleted one racist Facebook friend. This friend, as barely a friend as a high school classmate can be, re-posted a rant calling rioters niggers. (She was not a good white person.) Most of my white friends have responded to recent events with empathy or outrage. Some have joined protests. Others have posted Criming While White stories, a hashtag that has been criticized for detracting from Black voices. Look at me, the hashtag screams, I know that I am privileged. I am a good white person. Join me and remind others that you are a good white person too.

Over the past two weeks, I've seen good white people congratulate themselves for deleting racist friends or debating family members or performing small acts of kindness to Black people. Sometimes I think I'd prefer racist trolling to this grade of self-aggrandizement. A racist troll is easy to dismiss. He does not think decency is enough. Sometimes I think good white people expect to be rewarded for their decency. We are not like those other white people. See how enlightened and aware we are? See how we are good?

Over the past two weeks, I have fluctuated between anger and grief. I feel surrounded by Black death. What a privilege, to concern yourself with seeming good while the rest of us want to seem worthy of life.

When my father was a young man, he was arrested at gunpoint. He was a Deputy District Attorney at the time, driving home one night from bible study when LAPD pulled him over. A traffic violation, he'd thought, until officers swarmed his car with shotguns aimed at his head. The cops refused to look in his wallet at his badge. They cuffed him and threw him on the curb.

My father is mostly thankful that he'd stayed calm. In his shock, he had done nothing. That's what he believes saved his life.

I think about this while I watch Eric Garner die. For months, I avoided the video, until we arrived at another officer non-indictment. Now I've seen the video of Garner's death, as well as a second video I find even more disturbing. This second video, taken immediately after Garner has been killed by a banned chokehold, shows officers attempting to speak to him, asking him to respond to EMTs. They do not yet know that he is dead, and there's something about this moment, officers shuffling around as an EMT seeks a pulse, that is so bafflingly and frustratingly human, so different from the five officers lunging and wrangling Garner to the ground.

In the wake of this non-indictment, a surprising coalition of detractors has emerged. Not just black and brown students hitting the streets in protest but conservative stalwarts, like Bill O'Reilly or John Boehner, criticizing the lack of justice. Even George W. Bush weighed in, calling the grand jury's decision "sad." But even though many find Garner's death wrong, others refuse to believe that race played a role. His death was the result of overzealous policing, a series of bad individual choices. It would have happened to a white guy. The same way in Cleveland, a 12-year-old Black boy named Tamir Rice was killed by officers for playing with a toy gun. An unfortunate tragedy, but not racial. Any white kid playing with a realistic-looking toy gun would have been killed too.

Darren Wilson has been unrepentant about taking Mike Brown's life. He insists he could not have done anything differently. Daniel Pantaleo has offered condolences to the Garner family, admitting that he "feels very bad" about Garner's death.

"It is never my intention to harm anyone," he said.

I don't know which is worse, the unrepentant killer or the man who insists to the end that he meant well.

A year ago, outside the Orange County airport, a white woman cut in front of me at the luggage check. She had been standing next to me, and soon as the luggage handlers called next, she swooped up her things and went to the counter. She'd cut me because I was black. Or maybe because I was young. Maybe she was running late for her flight or maybe she was just rude. She would've cut me if I had been a white woman like her. She would've cut me if I had been anyone.

Of course, the woman ended up on my flight, and of course, she was seated right next to me. Before the flight took off, she turned to me and said, "I'm sorry if I cut you earlier. I didn't see you standing there."

I often hear good white people ask why people of color must make everything about race, as if we enjoy considering racism as a motivation. I wish I never had to cycle through these small interactions and wonder: Am I overthinking? Am I just being paranoid? It's exhausting.

"It was a lot simpler in the rural South," my mother tells me. "White people let you know right away where you stood."

The problem is that you can never know someone else's intentions. And sometimes I feel like I live in a world where I'm forced to parse through the intentions of people who have no interest in knowing mine. A grand jury believed that Darren Wilson was a good officer doing his job. This same grand jury believed than an eighteen-year-old kid in a monstrous rage charged into a hailstorm of bullets toward a cop's gun.

Wilson described Michael Brown as a black brute, a demon. No one questioned Michael Brown's intentions. A stereotype does not have complex, individual motivations. A stereotype, treated as such, can be forced into whatever action we expect.

I spent a four hour flight trying not to wonder about the white woman's intentions. But why would she think about mine? She didn't even see me.

In elementary school, my older sister came home one day crying. She had learned about the Ku Klux Klan in class that day and she was afraid that men in white hoods would attack us. My father told her there was nothing to worry about.

"If a Klansman sat at this table right now," he said, "I'd laugh right in his face."

My mother tells stories of Klansmen riding at night, of how her grandmother worried when the doctor's son—a white boy—visited her youngest sister because she feared the Klan would burn down their home. When I was a child, I only saw the Klan in made-for-TV civil rights movies or on theatrical episodes of Jerry Springer. My parents knew what we would later learn, that in the nineties, in our California home, surrounded by good white people, we had more to fear than racism that announces itself.

We all want to believe in progress, in history that marches forward in a neat line, in transcended differences and growing acceptance, in how good the good white people have become. So we expect racism to appear, cartoonishly evil like a Disney villain. As if a racist cop is one who wakes in the morning, twirling his mustache and rubbing his hands together as he plots how to destroy black lives.

I don't think Darren Wilson or Daniel Pantaleo set out to kill Black men. I'm sure the cops who arrested my father meant well. But what good are your good intentions if they kill us?

When my friends and I discuss people we dislike, we often end our conversations with, "But he means well."

We always land here, because we want to affirm ourselves as fair, non-judgmental people who examine a person not only by what he does but also by what he intends to. After all, aren't all of us standing in the gap between who we are and who we try to be? Isn't it human to allow those we dislike—even those who harm us—a residence in this space as well?

"You know what? He means well," we say. We lean on this, and the phrase is so condescending, so cloyingly sweet, so hollow, that I'd almost rather anyone say anything else about me than how awful I am despite how good I intend to be.

I think about this during a car ride last weekend with my dad, where he tells me what happened once the cops finally realized they had arrested the wrong man. They picked him up from the curb, brushed him off.

"Sorry, buddy," an officer said, unlocking his handcuffs.

They'd made an honest mistake. He'd fit the description. Well, of course he did. The description is always the same. The police escorted my father onto the road. My father, not yet my father, drove all the way home without remembering to turn his headlights on.

Brit Bennett recently earned her M.F.A. in creative writing at the the Helen Zell Writers' Program at the University of Michigan. She is currently a Zell Postgraduate Fellow, where she is working on her first novel.